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raggaraddy · 3 years

Text

I'd Die Fighting

Request from @dramaclub-thin: Mafia BTS where the reader is shot for/because of them.

A/N: Thank you for your request! I really like the concept, and kind of got carried away with the stories and now they're too long. So I'll release them as individuals as I finish them. I hope you like them! ^-^

If anyone else wants to request you can here.

Mafia Bangtan Other parts:

Namjoon

Yoongi

Taehyung

Jungkook

Summary: Pinned down by the cops, you know you're the only one who can stop Jimin from getting himself killed.

Trigger Warnings: Police shooting, gun usage, blood, violence, death, ambiguous ending.

Jimin

Mafia! Jimin

You were in the middle of a scheduled pick up, collecting the gang's share of the profits for the month. There had already been 3 today and all had gone as routine as the times before. You're in a residential building site, parked in one of the driveways, and on a Sunday too, so it's nice and quiet and empty. There was no reason to think that this stop would be any different than the last.

That was until the lights and sounds of police sirens filled the street.

You could only watch on in dread as 4 cop cars sped into the driveway trapping you and the two men into a box. With a 10-foot foundation wall behind you and building walls on either side, you were now realizing that this location wasn't so much secure, as it was an obvious dead end.

Looking back in the side-view mirror, you can see Jimin with the dealer. The guy panics instantly, pulling out his gun without a chance to even aim it before he is blown away. There are dozens of deafening shots all at once and the guy, no older than you, drops down dead.

Barely able to contain your terror, you are not able to do anything but to watch helplessly as Jimin dives behind the rear of the car to avoid the stray bullets.

Slowly, the officers start down the concrete path, closing in tighter, all of them with their guns drawn, all of them looking alarmed and ready to fire. With this many cops, you know neither of you stands a chance. There is no escape here, not without a miracle. But you know Jimin. You know he isn't going to just give in. He's said it before, he's said it often. He might die, but he'll die fighting before he dies in a cage.

The officer coming closest to the car bangs on the hood to draw your attention making you jump. "Stay in the car," He mouths the words.

You can't abide. If you don't do something Jimin is going to get himself killed. He may be willing to die, but you're not willing to lose him. You shake your head hard, swinging the car door open, stepping out tensely with your hands upright. Your arms and legs are shaking with pure adrenaline, relying on nothing but a prayer that they don't shoot you right now.

"Get back in the car." "Stay in the car." "Miss, get back in the car." A sea of loud, demanding voices shout at you all at once. While your survival instinct is telling you to obey the angry people with guns, you ignore them all. Your instinct-your love for Jimin is greater than your fear.

Walking paced steps backwards, you're watchfully eyeing them. They're still pressing forwards, but they have slowed substantially. Half of the group aiming more aggressively, and the other half pointing their guns at you more hesitantly. Calls of stay in the car turn into orders to get on the ground. But you can't, you won't.

Coming in line with the back of the car, Jimin is knelt behind it his gun in hand. "Y/n! What the fuck are doing?!" he snaps, eyes full of worry.

He may bluster to everyone else, but you know the full expression. In private he'd whisper the ending to you and only you. 'I'd die fighting before I ever die in a cage. And I'll spend my life locked up before I ever see you hurt.'

"Get back in the car!" He growls.

"No," you whisper.

"Get back in the car!"

"No."

"Oh for fucks sake, will you just listen to me for once!" He growls, running his hand back through his hair, about to lose any composer he has remaining.

"No!" You shout, your eyes darting from the cops to Jimin and back.

He roars, grabbing your shirt, yanking you down the ground beside him. The commands of the police heighten and start coming more frequently as they steadily begin to entrap the two of you again.

"I'm gonna beat the hell outta you after this." He shouts, reaching over the top of the car to fire a slew of shots, not aiming to hit anyone but just trying to keep the cops away.

"Fine. Do it. But just let there be an after." You plead, eyes filling with tears. "Put the gun down. Please!"

"What?! No!"

"Come out with your hands up or we open fire." A far off voice, coming through a speaker, gives a sickening order.

Jimin's harsh defiant look turns to one of pure fright and frenzy. He knows if they're shooting at him, they're shooting at you.

His hand scrunches in the scruff of your shirt, dragging you flat to the ground further out of harms-way, using the same momentum to launch himself into the open, weapon ready. He gets only 2 shot off before they retaliate with more than half a dozen. Not all connect, one catching his leg, another his shoulder. The hits double him over, making him drop the gun.

It all happens before you are able to even turn back over. The sight of him struck has you screaming, acting rashly and impulsively. You wail his name clambering to your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck. Lifting him upright, you're covering him with your body as much as you possibly can. You don't pause think what might happen right now if the officers began to fire again. You only know you need to save him from them. Save him from himself. Pushing him with your chest, you force him back more and more until his body hits the foundation wall. You turn yourself around towards the encroaching men and women, shoving your weight roughly against him. To shield him, and trying your best to keep him pinned to the bricks so he is unable to act suddenly or foolishly.

Thankfully the cops still seem hesitant to shoot at you. Although you don't trust it for it to last much longer.

Your stomach drops, feeling a warm wetness dripping over the exposed skin on your upper back. Jimin's shoulder is bleeding heavily down you.

This is so fucking bad.

"Stop, please stop, Baby!" You whisper to Jimin, nearly unable to form the words due to the shake in your voice. It's just the two of you opposing 7 armed police officer. You know he hates the thought of defeat, he may even hate you for this, but neither of you has any way of winning this standoff.

His forehead presses to the back of your head, his hot breath fanning down your neck. In the smallest motions, you feel him nod against you.

Raising them in surrender, his arms come out from behind you. There's a sharp pain in your side with a sudden booming sound. It knocks your breath away. You whine, your hand squeezing tighter against his legs, into the fabric of his jeans.

"Y/n?" Jimin knows what's happening before you do.

One of the officers mistook Jimins actions as hostile and got twitchy with his gun.

You gasp slumping back into him, your legs weakening. He catches you, lowering with you as you fall to the floor. "Baby!"

Jimin looks up to the cop who fired. He's memorizing every detail of their face. Already having resigned to hunt them down and make them suffer.

Finally able to inhale, you cry out a low scream, pain spreading from your stomach up. "Jimin," you cry clawing his arm, fingers wrapped in his sleeve.

The swarm of police starts to move more frantically. A knee flies at Jimin sending him into the wall, separating him from you. Without him, you fall flat into the dirt. To your right one of the men is forcing Jimin to the ground with a knee trying to flatten him. But he isn't giving in, fighting and struggling against the weight, desperately trying to get back to you.

Even as there are three of them versus only Jimin, he is still putting up enough resistance that they are unable to fully hold him.

"Y/n!" He yells, as one of his arms is pinned behind his back, driving him heavily into the dirt. "Get the fuck off!" he snarls.

Your throat feels full. You're starting to choke, spluttering blood out and down your cheeks. Your hands clutching your stomach are wet and slippery from blood. The heavy amounts of it pouring from you making you weaker with each passing second.

"Alright!" There's a heavy thump as Jimin stops resisting and is plunged aggressively into the floor. "Just help her! Help her!" With all of the pain and fear you're feeling, it's the pure panic in Jimin's voice that finally brings you to tears.

Rolling your head towards him, his chin is dug into the concrete floor, his skin and clothes red with blood, his face pale and flush, his eyes red and teary with emotion. With him no longer fighting they are able to cuff his hands. They haul him to his feet, carrying his weight. He yells in pain, his cries turning into pleas for you, calling again and again for someone, anyone to help you.

One of the officers comes to your side pressing firmly on your wound making you shriek, spitting out even more blood. They speak into their walkie-talkie describing your state and injuries calling for an ambulance. Explaining that a male will be coming to the hospital by a police cruiser.

In front of you, the others are dragging a limping Jimin away. Being pulled from you he begins his fight again, battling to not leave you. But he's too injured and restricted to combat them much more. Only able to call out to you over and over.

Even as the car doors close on him, you can still hear him shouting your name. Even as you lose consciousness you can still hear the echo of his voice.

#bts #bts fanfic #bangtan #jimin #park jimin #yandere jimin #bts jimin #yandere bts #yandere bangtan #mafia jimin #bts requests #bts reactions #bts mafia imagine

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cherry-lipbalm · 3 years

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double trouble. spencer reid.

4.8k words.

masterlist

where y/n pulls the short straw and has to double up with spencer.

There is a chart within the BAU: a solid, concise graph that portrays, arguably the most, vital information within the FBI. Intricately designed, Garcia and Y/N had managed to construct a comprehensible guide to who in the team was the most pleasant to share a room with. At first it was a joke, originated from a slow day of nothing but paperwork Y/N had spent in Garcia's lair. Conversations arose, and soon after so did the chart.

It's built up on categories such as conversation, tidiness, sleeping conditions and even hygiene. There are ten available points per category, and Emily loses said ten points for sleeping conditions because her snores can be heard from China. The points are the basis of the game, essential in order to rank the team individually and compile them into a list of favourability. Spencer is at the bottom of that list.

"I don't get it, I'm a delight," Spencer argued, strolling alongside Morgan up the small flight of stairs to the BAU room. Another case had forced them to prepare for the jet in 30 minutes, but Hotch and the rest of the team had very different perspectives on preparation. Especially after what he said when they entered the room.

"Okay, before we start you should know I called ahead to book a hotel and they had limited rooms. We all have one but you're going to have to double up."

Y/N had never seen an American Western movie before, but she imagined that the cliché standoff looked a lot like what happened in the BAU room subsequent to that announcement. Those that had been sitting launched to their feet, uncaring to the chairs rolling free behind them. If someone was holding something it dropped onto the table, or even the floor. Communication faltered, and all anyone dared to do was stare at each other.

When Hotch looked up from his file, he had to do a double take because of the drastic change in atmosphere. His team were all standing metres apart; Y/N had a hand over her gun.

"I think we all know what this calls for," she said.

"Get it," Morgan gestured to the back of the room. Y/N's movement caused a surge of motion as everyone sat at the table attentively. Hotch tried to turn the attention back to the screen with the crime scene photos, but even JJ was more focused on the whiteboard rolling into the room.

Y/N stood by it's side, and on her way forced Hotch into a seat. She grabbed the top corner and flipped it over to reveal the coloured array of pie charts, bullet-points and bar charts.

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Spencer whined from the back of the room.

"I don't see why you've obviously spent more time and effort on this than any of your cases," Hotch added.

"Okay, you two are just jealous because you're at the bottom of the list," Y/N snarked, then addressed the team. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today, in holy matrimony, to judge your fellow coworkers and deem who is the least likeable. Spoiler alert: it's Spencer."

At this, the aforementioned agent threw his pen directly at Y/N's head. She shrieked, then turned to him with a glare as she tried to untangle it from her hair. He laughed wholeheartedly, and the team snickered not only at Spencer's attack but the way they were so obviously and obliviously in love with each other.

"This chart makes no sense! I mean, how do I only have five points for hygiene? We all know I'm the cleanest out of everyone here."

"I agree with you Spencer," Y/N said, "your hygiene is at a ten point standard but unfortunately people don’t want to compete with said ten point standard, so that loses you five points, gorgeous.”

Spencer didn't reply (only sulked into his seat), half because he's shocked by the injustice of the chart and the other half because he's shocked Y/N just called him gorgeous.

"Alright! The hat, please," She exclaimed, enticing Spencer from his trance. Garcia presented the fedora over the table, and Y/N began talking immediately when she saw Hotch's mouth open in objection because were they really using the fedora from the unsub they caught last week?

Only four people took turns in picking names out of the hat; ever since in incident in '04 where lack of coordination made for everyone picking a name of someone who had already picked someone else. It resulted in a few brawls when Morgan wouldn't budge from his choice of Garcia even though his name had been pulled by Reid.

It never took them long to pick names out of desperation, considering the name-picking determined how the next 24 + hours were going to go. So when Y/N picked out Spencer's name, no one blamed her when she practically collapsed to the floor.

"That's karma," Spencer said upon her unraveling.

"I thought you didn't believe in karma," she sneered, stomping back onto her feet.

"In situations like these it seems to be the only viable explanation."

Y/N just rolled her eyes at him on her way out of the room, muttering under her breath that she'll be briefed when she's aboard, because she needed a moment alone for a pep-talk on how murdering your colleague apparently isn't socially acceptable.

On her way out, faintly in the background, Morgan caught sight of Emily and JJ fist-bumping victoriously, and realised that Y/N's demise more than certainly involved some foul play. Oh well, he thought, it'll make for good entertainment.

———

"Science shows us that we feel more personally connected with people who have similar postures, vocal rhythms, facial expressions and even eye blinking. If you consciously sync these factors your brain activity could follow, resulting in what many people call 'clicking' wi-"

"I cannot believe you asked me why you lost seven points for conversation and then followed with that."

"What? What's wrong with science?"

"Oh, Spence, you're so gorgeous but so oblivious," Y/N sighed, exhausted from a mixture of jet lag and Spencer's enthusiastic take on the science of conversation. They had only just stepped foot in the room, and she was already drained from the mere thought of having to bunk with him for the next however many hours.

Y/N is quick to throw her things down as soon as they enter the room. She dumps her suitcase by the door and launches a few more things on the cabinets around her, then tries to ignore Spencer's sounds of distaste as she does this. She's frankly too tired to care, and jumps onto the bed without thinking; she's so enervated she doesn't even realise there's only the one bed.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" Spencer suddenly asks despite the silence that passed and the obvious fact that Y/N is trying to get some shut eye.

All he receives is an incomprehensible mumble from under the pillows, but he takes it as a response anyway.

"Why do you keep, uh, keep calling me 'gorgeous' I mean, I'm not, uh..." he stammers, fidgeting with the room key in his hands while he stands in front of the wardrobe to make it seem like he's doing something and doesn't care as much as he does.

"I'd say it's pretty self explanatory."

He senses the fatigue in her voice, so just leaves it with a shrug of his shoulders and a content smile, then goes to organising his array of sweater vests onto the hangers. When he's done with this, he turns around to make himself a coffee; taking a different approach to the jet lag than Y/N.

At the thought of her, he looks up to see her sprawled out across the bed. She's clutching onto a pillow and seems so relaxed that Spencer has to look away for a moment because he's more than certain he shouldn't be seeing a coworker like this. Nevertheless, he smiles upon her peaceful ambience, and hopes the boiling kettle doesn't disturb her too much.

When it's done brewing, Spencer sips the coffee cautiously and strides over to a small chair in the corner of the room. Here, Y/N's slumped figure is directly in his view, so he can't help but see her so casually on the bed. Wait, the bed... oh shit.

He knows that the chances of him getting the bed are slim. For one, Y/N's pretty much already claimed that territory, and, even if she hadn't, Spencer knew she'd put up one hell of a fight for it. He only hoped there were some extra blankets and pillows that could aid in making the floor at least somewhat comfortable.

"So, uh, Rock Paper Scissors for the bed?" He asks, then slurps his coffee. His voice rouses Y/N for a moment, and he's sure she's dozed back off again until his words sink in and she turns around to him with bleary eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"One bed. Two people," he says nervously and gestures to the space between them.

And it takes Y/N a moment. She looks from Spencer to the bed, then stares at the pillows for a long while, then she looks at Spencer again, then the bed. Then, she lets out a blood-curdling cry so loud that Reid has to cover his ears.

"Why!" She screams, slamming her hands down on the mattress. Spencer can't help but laugh, snickering behind his hand which only infuriates Y/N more.

"Okay, okay!" He moves to calm her down when he can practically see the steam coming out of her ears, "rock paper scissors, come on."

"Oh, I don't want to do that, Spence," she whines.

"Why? 'Cause you know you'll lose?" With his patronisation he raises an eyebrow at her when he approaches the end of the bed, his fist already raised. His condescension makes Y/N irrefutably stubborn, and she knows he's doing it on purpose -because he always does- but she doesn't care when it means she has a chance to beat Spencer at something.

"Fine," she grumbles. She sweeps the hair from her face and sits up straight, shuffling to the end of the bed and letting her legs dangle down; they brush against Spencer's own and he clears his throat amid the contact.

The slap of her fist against her palm indicates the beginning of the game. Y/N knows that she's unlikely to win, because Spencer is bound to have calculated some sure-fire plan to succeed in every round of Rock Paper Scissors.

This is why, when Spencer pulls paper and she pulls scissors, she screams in delight.

"No," Spencer says bluntly, then demands, "best out of three."

"Oh no," she chuckles, "it's never been that way before, it isn't now, gorgeous."

Spencer throws his head back in a groan, kneeling on the floor in defeat. He stays there because he figures he ought to become acquainted with it.

———

When nighttime rolls around, Y/N is pretty excited. She's already texted the BAU group chat a record seventeen times about the matter, yet somehow the team hasn't gotten sick of it thus far, and may even be more exhilarated than she is. It's the one good thing to come out of sharing a room with Spencer: that she gets to watch him wiggle in discomfort on his makeshift bed of blankets and pillows on the floor.

Except, when it comes down to it, it isn't that fun at all.

He's wriggling, yes, but it's doesn't exactly fulfil her with any satisfaction; if anything, it's just sad. He struggles to reach any form, never mind pinnacle, of relaxation, and Y/N actually feels pretty guilty at the subordination. So when the clock hits midnight and she's still hearing Spencer grunting when he hits a certain incessant bump in the carpet, she gives in and sits up.

Upon the sudden sound of bedsheets rustling, Spencer freezes because he thinks he's going to get shouted at, but it's the opposite that scares him even more.

"Do you want to get in bed?" Her voice sounds, the hush penetrating through the air.

Immediately Spencer rises; he wants nothing more than to take her up on her offer, but he is, unfortunately, chivalrous.

"No, no, it's okay," he whispers back, already delving back under his covers.

"Spencer. Just take the bed, I can't sleep with you tossing and turning," she says, hoping the complaint will cover up her caring behaviour.

"Be careful, Y/L/N, it almost sounds like you care."

"Shut up, do you want the bed or not?"

"I do but, unlike you, I'm actually a good person and wouldn't want to see you lying on the floor-"

"Uh, I'm offering you the bed, aren't I? That's gotta earn me some brownie points," she remarked, now having turned on a lamp. "Besides, if you're that bothered about it, we'll just share."

This makes Spencer stop: his torso is turned abnormally in his angle to see Y/N behind him, the blankets feebly draping across him show the Doctor Who shirt he's wearing, and his hair is a tousled mess that Y/N just knows will take him hours to fix in the morning. Well, that was tomorrow's problem, she contemplated, right now the issue lied in who, if either of them, was going to sleep on the floor.

"Uh, share? You.. uh, you really wanna do that?"

"As long as you don't snore, or kick; whats the harm?"

Spencer avoids dumping information about the harm of them sleeping together: how this kind of physical contact releases oxytocin, a chemical compound in the brain that exhibits feelings of empathy, trust, relaxation and even reduces anxiety. He saves her this because it's just past midnight and he doubts she wants to hear about the scientific risk of them growing to like each other.

"Oh, okay," he agrees instead. He clambers up from his pile of blankets and clutches a pillow to his chest while he stumbles over. Y/N shuffles to one side and pulls the duvet back, and he's more than happy to get under warm, comfy sheets.

"Let me just make something clear," Y/N says while Spencer adjusts into the pillows. He doesn't do this for long because one is snatched from under his head. When he moves to object, he sees it being planted next to his arm, creating a definite border between them.

"Your side, my side," Y/N says sternly, "that clear?"

"Crystal."

———

It's around three am when Y/N stirs awake. At first she can't grasp what's roused her, but then she hears a noise, and assumes there's got to be some construction going on outside because what she hears is alike to the humming of machinery. When she gains a reasonable amount of consciousness, she realises the sound is a bit too close to home.

Her hand reaches out across the bed, and when she accidentally whacks Spencer on the chest, she worries she's awoken him, until the noise starts again and it's here she discovers it's coming from him.

Oh shit, she thinks, please don't tell me my co-worker is having a sex dream while I'm lying right next to him.

He isn't, but Y/N isn't sure the reality is any better.

The moaning sound he first emitted has progressed into some sort of panicked grunt, accompanied by occasional whines. Soon, his body is flinching away from an invisible force.

Y/N knows it's probably best to leave it, that if she wakes him up he might be too confused and scared, he'll be disoriented, but when he starts screaming, she doesn't have anything else to resort to.

"Spence, Spencer! Wake up, hey," she shakes him, and he's awake in seconds. Sitting up straight, Y/N sees him hitting things that aren't there; it's only when she turns the light on that he eventually calms down.

"I'm sorry," he croaks immediately. Then his head is in his hands as he leans on his knees, and Y/N is overcome with a feeling completely foreign to her in regard to Spencer: empathy.

"Don't be, it-... it's okay," her voice takes a calm turn, and she even puts a hand on his back because anything that happens after three am is as good as forgotten anyway.

"You were right, I'm sorry," Spencer mutters. "This'll lose me ten points for sleeping conditions, huh?"

His attempt at cracking a joke does make Y/N smile, but even he can tell it's one of pity.

"Don't be silly. Do you want to, uh, talk about it?"

"I just wanna sleep," he sighs, and falls back into the pillows. Y/N creases her brows in sympathy, then lies down next to him; she stares at the ceiling for a while, and the steadying of Spencer's breathing makes her think he fell asleep a while ago, so she leans to turn off the lamp before his voice breaks the silence.

"Can you keep the light on?"

His sudden ask makes Y/N jump, but she steadies under the softness of Spencer's voice. When she turns to him his eyes are barely open, but he can see the benevolent smile she's giving him; something he rarely sees from Y/N.

"Of course," she says, then lies back down into the indent she's made in the bed.

"Thanks," he replies, and Y/N notices this is the least she's ever heard Spencer talk.

"You know," she starts, "it's not silly to be afraid of the dark; it's basic human instinct. I mean, it's evolution: humans have a... a tendency to be afraid of the dark, our visual sense vanishes and we can't detect anything around us. It's primal instinct, or... something, I guess."

At the end of her ramble, she's afraid she's sent Spencer to sleep, because he's gone uncharacteristically placid, but -yet again- he surprises her.

"Now who's losing points for conversation?"

Y/N's laugh after this is so hearty and genuine that Spencer can't help but smile, grin even. His chest rumbles with a chuckle, and Y/N feels the mattress shake under their collaboration of laughter, when it dies down they're both still beaming.

"Maybe I've been hanging around you too much," she declares. It's a jab, but her cheek rests against the pillow when she turns her head to him because her smile is so wide, and Spencer reciprocates; the act is unfamiliar to the pair, but warming nonetheless.

When it goes silent, Y/N doesn't expect to sleep at all. The Pavlov affect of the light being on tricks her brain into thinking she should be wide awake (something she learnt from Spencer), so she lies there patiently; hands intertwined resting on her chest. She twiddles her thumbs, almost as if she's waiting for something to happen.

"I'm sorry you have nightmares," she mutters.

Spencer's eyes flutter open, and she goes to make another apology, this time for waking him, but he clears his throat so she lets him take the lead.

"S'Not your fault, I just, I don't know. I get these dreams, these weird dreams - ever since I was a kid. I guess they just... developed into nightmares since I joined the BAU," he mumbles. "We see some pretty bad stuff."

Y/N hums, "we do, don't we?"

Her speech doesn't warrant a response, so Spencer just smiles again and they both silently call it a night. Reid is asleep in seconds, which Y/N finds admirable, while she stays still for a while. The way the orange light is bouncing off Spencer's physique makes him look like he's centre stage of an oil painting. The detail she's gaining of his pores and his eyelashes from being so close to him is both daunting and beautiful at the same time. His resting body reminds her of the pieces on display in an art exhibit Spencer dragged her along to one day last autumn. She wonders if he took anyone else to that exhibit, and hopes he didn't.

She soundlessly admires the rise of his chest: the melody of his breathing amid the chagrin of an occasional nose whistle. His hair, once a foreseeable inconvenience, is now an abundance of, what Y/N can only describe as, natural radiance; it's all curls and frizz and length that she's begged him to never lay a hand on. She can't help but run a hand through it. When she does, it's a lot softer than she expected and makes her think, wow I've really got to find out what conditioner he is using while she's untangling any knots she comes across. It only results in more frizz but he'll gel it back with product in the morning (much to Y/N's disappointment).

The noise he exudes when Y/N scratches his scalp makes her heart melt immediately. It is the sound of innocence wrapped up in a ball of revere, the way it comes from his chest and catches in the back of his throat in a small, naive whine. Then he subconsciously curls into her hold and is practically purring when she continues to scrape her fingernails gently across his head.

The ambivalence of it all is what makes Y/N stop. Spencer Reid isn't the kind of guy she ever anticipated to have a crush on. He didn't fit into the pattern of her list of exes, not even one feature of him came close to anything of her usual type. Where she'd normally be taken to movies and dinners, Spencer ventured with her to museums, public symposiums, art exhibits. Y/N can't resist fondly reminiscing on a library trip they took last week that resulted in them checking out each of their favourite books for one another. And while, on paper, this was romantic and harmonious, they were strictly platonic. Barely that; they took the piss out of each other at every opportunity, not even always as a joke. Y/N had collapsed in sorrow when she pulled his name out of the hat.

But the smile on Spencer's face... his serene expression and soft hair makes Y/N's knees weak for a totally different reason. And she figures this feeling trumps whatever feigned resentment she has been portraying over the years.

Fine, she thought, stubborn as always when it came to Spencer, I'll tell him when he wakes up. She began to bask in the peace that came before whatever storm could potentially riot tomorrow when she told Spencer how she felt. She guessed she had at least a few hours to relish in their friendship and the love they had built.

She guessed wrong.

Spencer's eyes were fluttering open before Y/N had even began conjuring up what she was going to say. Unfortunately, when she made a plan she stuck to it; she was beginning to see why her stubbornness could be such an unattractive quality.

Spencer squinted harshly with the light, and the first thing he managed to see clearly was the discreet panic in Y/N's eyes. He took a quick survey of the room to eliminate what visible factors that could reason her alarm; when he ruled out any unsub with a gun to her head, he relaxed.

Rubbing his eyes, he looked to the window, and it didn't seem to be daylight yet.

"Haven't you been to sleep?" He asked, more than prepared to educate her in the necessities of getting a good night's rest.

"Not yet. You've only been out a few minutes," she said softly, retracting her hand from his locks. Here, Spencer realised he didn't like the feeling of Y/N's absence.

"Oh," he hummed, "I was dreaming. I think Darth Vader was there..."

Y/N chuckled lightheartedly, "of course he was."

Spencer seemed willing to remain awake, but time was limited and Y/N wasn't sure when he'd be dozing off again. So, she made her move.

"Listen, I wasn't going to say anything until morning but, you're awake so I may as well tell you now..."

He's visibly intrigued; with a quirked eyebrow and digging the knuckle-joint of his finger in a rubbing motion in the corner of his eye to try and gain some sense of vivacity. Still, all he can respond with is a drone.

"And I don't want this to, I don't know, freak you out? Or to make anything awkward, so if it does, we can just... pretend this never happened, okay? I mean it."

This manages to obtain Y/N the attention she needs, because, without delay, Spencer has both eyes open and his eyebrows are knitted together in mostly concern. Now, with his eager expression, Y/N wishes he had stayed nonchalant.

"What's wrong?"

"I just... I guess. I mean, I like you? I think? I know, really. I just - you're not like any other guy, and I like that, that's a good thing! I mean, what other guy knows how to build a rocket and make a coin appear behind your ear?"

Spencer chuckles, and his eyes are wide and bright like he's been suddenly granted passage to a whole new world. Mouth agape with wonder, he's like a child being told he can finally play on the big-kid swings: buzzing with excitement and anticipation, just like said rockets he launches and gets in trouble with Hotch for.

"You mean like this?" He asks and leans forward to brandish a dime from behind Y/N's earlobe.

"Okay, like, who does that!" She screeches way too loudly for three am. When she clasps a hand over her mouth Spencer chortles and slowly removes her grasp. He's timid, so initially only presses a chaste kiss to her knuckles, then feels the ambience in the room shift; suddenly everything has devolved from blushing antics and stumbles of words to serenity in a matter of seconds.

Spencer's pecks adhere to Y/N's hands, lingering on the skin of her knuckles and occasionally peppering to her palms. It isn't until a few kisses later that he brings himself to move closer, and even here his courage only brings him to her cheek.

When the corner of his lips press lustfully upon her face, Y/N doesn't hesitate in turning her head ever so slightly. His lips part, and he breaks away to glance at her and make sure this isn't all one big misunderstanding. But her gaze is matched to his mouth, and soon her lips. In a fumble to close the (already compact) space between them, the kiss they share is warm and breathy, it's passionate and lewd, especially with the arrangement in which Spencer places his hands: cupping one side of her face and the placing the other at her neck so he can rest his fingertips in the hold atop Y/N's spine.

Wherever his fingers touch leaves a trail of goosebumps which Y/N hopes never diminish; she wants every piece of evidence she can muster of Spencer's caresses, however this changes when Spencer's lips begin on the formidable task of her neck.

"Stop," she pants, and the hands that had inevitably reached his hair again are now pushing slightly on his shoulders. Her request makes Spencer drop his hands immediately.

"I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't. It was nice. I just, I don't want everyone to see," she gestured to the red patch that had already formed above her clavicle where Spencer had only been nibbling a moment prior.

"Right, yeah," he breathed. A giddy smile forced its way onto his face when he looked at the way Y/N's lips had reddened and become swollen, especially her bottom (now essentially permanent) pout originated from the persistence of Spencer's tendency to drag his teeth along her lip and enclose it in a bite.

"You know, I predicted this would happen. Scientifically, people are a lot more likely to be attracted to one another after sleeping together. Subconsciously, we feel more capable in our ability to trust that person because we've been so vulnerable and open in a compromising position. The oxytocin we get from sharing physical contact like that is the same we produce in an orgasm."

"Oh," Y/N squeaked, while Spencer lay there with a proud smile on his face, not really registering the effect he'd had on her by using the word 'orgasm'.

"Oxytocin is heavily released during kissing too, so... I guess we're pretty bonded."

Y/N chuckled, smiling at his blushed cheeks. "I guess we are."

"It's, uh, it's actually also called the 'cuddle hormone' because it's primarily recognised as being released during hugging.”

"And that's your way of asking me if I want to cuddle?"

Spencer's smile was unmissable: shifting nervously between tight-lipped and beaming wide, his eyes were the only part of his countenance that stilled; locked on Y/N.

"Yes, I, uh, I believe it is."

She tried to suppress her grin, but it was no use.

"Big spoon or little spoon?" She asked.

"Oh, little spoon... obviously."

fin.

#spencer reid gifset #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid imagines #Spencer reid one shots #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid x reader

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anystalker707 · 3 years

Text

Spicy horror

Pairing: Frank x [fem] Reader Word count: ~ 4 000 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's Halloween, and (y/n) and Frank finally confess their crushes to each other when binge watching horror movies on Frank's place. Kind of content: Praising / Protected / Oral

Requested by @thisisjustforrequestingfanfics (can't tag you, sorry hhh my T*mblr is acting weird)

a/n - I'm sorry that I coudn't proofread, I might do it soon; I was supposed to be asleep rn

"You're just annoying, old man," I tease with a grin. "But don't whine or else you'll ruin the makeup!" I continue spreading the white concealer over his face, careful to get it on the corners around his nose and around his eye, though not to irritate his eyes.

"No, fuck you," Frank groans, his face twitching to suppress any expression. "Why can't we watch it again tonight? They're the best movies! And stop calling me old man, it's just my birthday! I'm not decomposing or anything!" Despite his words, he smiles, opening his eyes once I pull away, leaning back against the chair of the desk – I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, I agree." I grab the eyeshadow palette from the desk and move closer to him again. "TCM is a great series and all, but can we not watch it for a single week? It's your birthday and we can watch literally any horror movie! And it can be special, like, not something we've watched a thousand times already to the point we already know most of the lines." I glare before motioning for him to close his eyes.

Frank sighs grumpily, leaning his head back. "What are you planning on, then? Alien? Jaws?" He lets out a weird cry when I slap the side of his head lightly, though he is soon chuckling.

"And then you complain when I say how annoying you are!" I spread the dark eyeshadow over his eyes, humming. "It's been a while since we've watched The Howling, Evil Dead, House of Wax. I mean, 'm not gonna complain if we decide on Alien and Jaws either." He hums, pouting. "Don't worry, you're still my favorite old man." I press a kiss to his head.

"I hate you," he laughs.

After a little bit of fake blood and retouching on my makeup, the two of us are leaving Frank's house to go to school, waving his mother goodbye. We don't look like what most of the kids will go dressed up as – not putting enough effort nor choosing the same themes as the jocks and popular people and not invisible enough just to throw on whatever in a black theme. Frank looks like a chill vampire with Bela Lugosi's Dracula references, though still looking like a punk, while I decided on one of my favorite characters. Nothing too extra, but still in the vibe.

"You look ridiculous with that hair slicked back." I kick one of the pebbles on the sidewalk. "I prefer the hedgehog or whatever it is in the normal state."

"I honestly feel like I could kill someone just from biting their jugular off." He grins, throwing his nose in the air – I can't help but to chuckle; he's adorable. "But not gonna be anyone from school, they're not worth it neither their blood would taste good." He twists his mouth. "I feel like most I'd get would be booze, botox and steroids."

"Damn," I snort, "awfully accurate. You're gonna starve, sorry."

Frank pouts, looking down, but a smirk soon tugs on his lips as he takes a step closer. "But you're not that bad, baby, you know?"

"Oh, fuck off!" I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue. "You just want to get in my jugular!"

Both of us burst out in chuckles and our conversation eventually dies down when we walk past the gates to inside the school, replaced by jokes at other people's costumes, sometimes needing to hold onto each other from laughter.

We walk into the first class, already a bit late, but all it does is to attract everyone's attention the moment we step in.

"Ridiculous, as always," some girl mutters under her breath. Funny.

Frank wraps a hand around the length of the coat to stupidly bring it to cover the lower part of his face, looking around with narrowed eyes then wide ones. "I smell not just a lot of blood here," he says in a low and raspy voice, "but also stupidity!" He points at the girl judgingly, making her twist her mouth disgusted.

"I hope Freddy Krueger visits you tonight," I say when walking past her, patting her shoulder. A scream comes from her when noticing the fake blood stain I leave behind on her white outfit, having Frank and I chuckling on our way to the back.

No one really pays attention to the classes – it's Halloween, we're even in stupid clothes and anxious for whatever is going to happen later in the day, so the teacher doesn't even bother scolding Frank and I for talking nonstop in the back of the classroom. To be honest, I think only the goody two shoes are actually doing something, sometimes turning around to glare at the others.

"Okay, okay, shut up for a minute!" I tell Frank, taking a look at the messy words over my notebook to check if I forgot to write something down. "We've got The Howling, Alien, Evil Dead, House of Wax, Dawn of the Dead, Funhouse, Pumpkinhead..."

"Fright Night," Frank continues, "Opera, Cannibal Holocaust, Texas Chainsaw–"

"I said no TCM! Fuck you," I curse, rushing to write everything down, crossing out TCM when I accidentaly write it down.

"Friday the 13th, Poltergeist, Near Dark and Elm Street," he finishes, glaring at me. He hits my shoulder, not enough to hurt. "I'll make you watch TCM with me until you have memorized every single frame of it!"

"Your TCM phase will have died down by then!" I twist my mouth bitterly. "Sorry to kill the hype, baby!" I throw my nose in the air with a chuckle at his sulky manners. He furrows his eyebrows, sucking in a breath for words he never really gets to say. "And we still got to watch all these goth movies and shows lying around! Do you think it was easy finding the 60s Addams family show on DVD? Or that one Frankenstein version on cassette." Okay, the last one was easy to find in a yard sale, but still, it was just luck.

"Okay, mommy, please just don't punish me," Frank says with a groan and a fake moan. I stare at him as he's not able to contain his laughter before starting to hit him with the notebook.

"Too bad you're not a good boy, hun."

For once, school ends up actually being nice and just because Frank and I were getting in the character sometimes and pissing people off. By lunch, he had pulled on some sunglasses and looked like the stupidest fucker while eating his sandwich and smudging more of the lipstick and fake blood around his lips. At some point, we had pretended to have a fight and pierce the other's chest with a pair of scissors just to squeeze a bag of fake blood at whoever walked by – mostly some of the jocks or plastics. So much fun.

The house is quiet when we arrive back at it, a couple hours after school ended, and we find out, later, a note from Frank's mom apologizing she can't be here during the rest of his birthday, though she's sure he'll have fun with me.

"Imma take a shower," I sigh, pointing upstairs.

"Sure," he hums, looking up from the note for a moment to smile at me.

Thankfully, I always leave some clothes at Frank's place because I'm here far too often and not always have the chance or disposition to go back home and grab some clothes. It doesn't prevent me from stealing his hoodie, however, and walking out of the bathroom without all of that sticky makeup or fake blood is the best thing ever. Later, Frank is the one to go take a shower while I take care of the food he had already started to prepare.

"Much better!" I raise my eyebrows at the sight of Frank with his hair back to normal and only a bit of black makeup smudges the underside of his eyes now.

"Y'know, I never said a single thing about how you looked," he mutters with his brow low, coming to lean against the counter, next to me, "still, you've been attacking me every chance you got!"

"Does it offend you?" I smile.

"No, but it still hurts!" He sniffles, a hand flat against his chest. "I know I'm too badass for you to handle, but you don't need to let it be that clear!"

I look at him from head to foot. "I hate you, y'know that?"

"Love you too, hun!" He grins and moves closer, cupping my face exaggeratedly to peck my cheek before we head upstairs with everything we need.

We turn the lights on to organize everything, soon sitting down against a pile of pillows and with food surrounding us, though most of it is on the bedside tables since Frank, mainly, gets extremely uncomfortable with it falling on the bed. It doesn't matter, though, since the food and half empty cans end up going forgotten halfway through the movie at the same time the chatter dies down and we watch The Evil Dead as if it was the first time.

Some funny part comes on – well, not exactly funny, but enough to make us chuckle quietly – and brings us back to reality, sighing and glancing at each other, adjusting our postures as we'd slid down the pillows.

Frank yawns.

"Already tired?" I tease, poking his shoulder.

"No." He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Getting tired is for losers." He does glance at the clock on his bedside table, however, and the red glowing numbers say it's six something.

"You're my favorite loser, then." I smirk lightly, exhaling.

Frank's eyebrows knit together as he looks at me, but then rolls his eyes. "Well, duh, of course I am! Who else? I'm the best." He scoots closer until his head is leaning on my shoulder and I can't help but to smile.

"No, I am," I groan, arms wrapped around him.

"I am!" He glares and, at some point, we end up in a wrestling match, pushing each other around the mattress among laughter and curses, which comes to a stop when we start getting too tired and I just let Frank lie down on top of me, head on my chest, still watching the movie. "Do you like anyone, (y/n)?" he asks suddenly. "Like, got a crush?"

Random. Why does he want to know? I mean, I do have a crush, but telling him about it is difficult.

"Um, yeah, I guess, why?" I blink, startled when he suddenly brings himself up on his elbows to stare at me.

"I swear to God I'll hunt them down if you forget about me because of them, do you understand?" Frank presses his forehead to mine. "You're the only one I got, sometimes I'm so worried you'll even leave me for whatever reason."

"What?" I breathe a chuckle, though there's not exactly anything funny here. "Never in my right mind would I do that! And you can't hunt my crush down if my crush is actually you," I laugh in a sudden rush of confidence, which wears out awfully quickly, leaving me lying there and rethinking every life choice.

"Me?" Frank widens his eyes. At the lack of answer, he takes a hold of my collar, straddling my hips. "Did I hear it right? Please, (y/n), (n/n), soulmate? I'm your goddamn crush? For how long?"

I shake my head lightly, shrugging. "Months? A long time."

"And you just told me now?" He cries, forehead pressed to my shoulder. "Slow motherfucker."

"I didn't want you to leave me either, c'mon!" I sigh in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "I remember that time a girl confessed to you and you'd simply vanish whenever she showed up. What if that was with me? I'd not be able to live like this, y'know that."

"Y'know, yeah, seeing it from that point..." Frank shrugs, bringing himself up to face me again. "Still, I wouldn't avoid you like that! Dunno, but it doesn't matter now because you just relieved me of months of suffering. Looking at these pretty lips without being able to kiss it." He furrows his eyebrows, eyes on my lips. "Can I kiss you, tho? Now that we feel stupid for all these months. Damn. At least I feel."

I breathe a chuckle. "Of course! Do you think I wasn't dying to do it either?"

Next thing I know are Frank's lips pressed against mine softly, soon growing firm with confidence. His fingers run along my neck lightly, in a caring manner, dropping to trace my collarbones.

"Also," Frank breathes, pulling away; his face never moves farther than a couple of inches whilst he adjusts his position, lying down beside me on the mattress. "Maybe it's wrong to say and I've always tried to say it in a subtle manner, but–" his eyes meet mine, "–you've got the body of a goddess! Like, dunno, sometimes you comment about not having an 'ideal', skinny body, but you're just so perfect," he groans, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"Frank!" I tap on his back lightly. It's not that I don't like what he said – no, damn, it sends my heart fluttering, this warmth taking over my chest –, but is it really the truth? I didn't think it was possible for anyone to tell me this.

"No, I'm telling the truth!" Frank grins. "Like, your thighs and all. I just want to squeeze and bite you! Not in a bad way, I mean." I must give him a funny look because of how flustered he grows, tongue playing with his lip ring as he looks away. "There's a lot to unpack, fuck, I thought it was obvious how I always sit there gazing at you and shit, but..."

"Likewise." I glare playfully, making him chuckle.

"Y'know–" Frank smiles lazily, "–this is the best birthday I've ever had, by far." He brushes his lips against mine softly, watching me through half lidded eyes. "Never knew you'd actually like me back. Never believed it was possible, to be honest."

"I never cogitated you like me," I breathe.

"Well, okay," he says, "we've already gotten through this. I think we should focus on now."

"I'm not the one who keeps bringing back past thoughts!" I chuckle at how he pouts, scowling funnily.

"Shut up, shut up, I get it!" Frank rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine before I can say anything, having me smiling against the kiss until returning it, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Now that we've finally kissed, keeping our lips off each others' feels almost impossible – letting go of each other feels almost impossible. "God fucking damnit," he groans under his breathe, moving to press kisses down my jaw, soon reaching my neck.

A sigh escapes my lips at the kisses, though it turns into quiet pleased sounds at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin and sometimes closing around it, sucking on it whilst all I can bring myself to do is tugging onto his hair. Suddenly, however, feeling his hands traveling down to my hips and squeezing them makes me gasp, probably reacting a bit more than I intended.

"What?" Frank pulls away at the same moment, eyes wide. "Did I do something wrong? Please– Damn, I'm so sorry!"

"N-No, no," I finally bring myself into speaking up, feeling my cheeks burn bright red. "I, um, I actually... liked it. A lot. Sorry if I scared you, I just wasn't expecting it. I don't mind, really," I insist as he continues looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"You sure?"

"Yeah!" I smile, bringing him for a quick kiss before he's trailing down my neck again.

Frank's hands go down my body, experimentally at first and then squeezing my hips again, receiving another reaction this time, including just a soft gasp as I push my hips up – a shiver runs down my spine with it, a nice one. Fuck.

"Damn..." Frank breathes, hands running down to my thighs then up again to slide under my shirt. "It's a bit early, maybe–" he shrugs, looking at me, "–but... is it okay if..."

Holy hell. "Of course," I say without thinking much – he continues to stare, so I nod.

"Fuck yeah," he mutters, lips against mine for a few seconds before he's pulling my shirt over my head and the expression on his face carries such admiration that I can't help but to feel embarrassed for a moment. He never lets me cover myself, nonetheless, hands flying to my waist to hold firmly onto it as he's pressing kisses from my stomach to my hip. "No, seriously–" he sits up again, "–how can someone be so perfect?" He seems to be talking mostly to himself, getting rid of his shirt.

"Dunno." I grin. "How does it feel to be so perfect, baby?"

Frank exhales shakily. "You'll be the death of me and I ain't even joking." He presses a kiss to my collarbone, starting to nibble down at the skin again, trailing down to my chest, lips sometimes lingering over my breasts – sure as hell he leaves a few marks behind, considering how invested he gets.

Something tells me he doesn't know what to focus on. His hands never stay in the same place for too long, going down my thighs then trailing up to my waistband, up my torso, and then he repeats it.

"C'mon," I mutter, placing his hands on my waistband. He's a bit hesitant, but quickly undoes the buttons and starts pulling it down – I help him, kicking the pants away in the end.

A string of curses slip past Frank's lips as he quickly gets rid of his jeans too and, when coming back, he kneels down between my legs this time, spreading them apart. Our lips are yet again locked in a kiss, different from the others, more heated up and urgent this time as we hold onto each other. I play with the hair on the back of his neck and tug onto it instead at the feeling of his hands around my ass, groping.

"Frank, damn," I breathe quietly for a second we pull apart and, opposite to earlier, he gets the hint and does it again, humming against my lips. Once he stops groping, his hands just run along my skin, up and down my body, sometimes lingering. The most lovesick look decorates his face when he pulls away. My heart.

I place my hands on Frank's shoulders as I sit up, changing our positions. He observes me with wide eyes and I smile at him before pressing kisses to his neck, leaving behind a hickey before I can go lower and lower until my fingers are around the waistband of his boxers and I pause, looking up at him, and continue after he nods.

Frank's already half hard, a breath hitching in his throat as, after discarding his boxers, I assume my previous position.

Even if it's not the first time I've done that, this nervousness still lies under my skin as I wrap a hand around him, pumping him lightly before wrapping my lips around the head experimentally. He breathes sharply.

Only halfway through it that I allow myself to look up at Frank, pausing for a moment after finding out he's been watching, propped up on his elbows, eyes focused on me and jaw slack, but I don't look away, hollowing my cheeks instead and watching him break under my gaze, letting go of all the tension for a second.

I repeat the motions a few times and pull away, licking up along the underside, around the tip, and he's suddenly pulling me away – eyes wide and face flushed this time.

Frank mumbles something I can't quite understand, but it doesn't really matter. He moves closer, both of us soon assuming the position we were in minutes ago, pressed against each other. Now, he removes my underwear and his hand slips between us, however.

Pleasure is sent ringing up my spine at the feeling of Frank's fingers slipping past my lips, quickly finding my clit and wasting no time on working his thumb on it while a couple of fingers tease my entrance. Moans just escape my throat easily after he breaks the kiss, mouthing his way until the inside of one of my thighs – he bites and sucks on the skin there. His tongue is suddenly there, then, against my clit, working around it before being replaced by his lips and my vision goes fucking blank when I can feel him sucking on it.

"Fuck," Frank curses once pulling away, moving to frantically rummage through the nightstand's drawer; I groan at the loss of touch, pushing my hips up into nothing.

Hearing the sound of foil being torn makes me understand what's happening, and I watch him rush to slip the condom on, giving us a moment to catch our breath before he's positioning himself, a hand on my hip whilst another holds himself up.

"Tell me if there's something wrong, okay?" he asks slowly, "I'll stop right away. Don't be afraid."

"Same to you," I say softly, cupping his face to pull him for a soft, quick kiss.

Frank smiles with a nod and looks down before I can feel him against my entrance, pushing in slowly. I wrap my arms around his shoulders tightly, feeling his chest vibrate against mine with the low moan coming from him, replaced by a sigh once he sinks in completely. He starts moving right away, hips jerking experimentally before attaining a heavy and slow pace which doesn't last long due to how needy we are already.

I gasp at how he thrusts in harder, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to hold him close and having my legs around his hips, instinctively.

Curses and praises are breathed into my ear among moans, somehow making the pleasure pool down in my lower stomach even more intensely, summed up to feeling his hands groping on my ass again, fingers sinking into the skin.

"You're just so perfect, (y/n)," he babbles, "and even better that now you're all mine."

Suppressing a louder moan turns out to be impossible at the feeling of Frank's hips reaching a certain angle and, soon, the answer I had in my slips away from my grasp and all there's left is just how good he feels. I travel a hand up to his hair, remembering how he reacted to it earlier, and tug on it in a form of response, though also wanting to hear how pathetically he moans at it.

"'M gonna cum," I manage to say before being cut off by a moan, arching my back.

"Me too, babe," he groans, "almost there."

Frank pauses, adjusting himself so a hand is under my thigh and another on the mattress for major support and his thrusts are suddenly harsher. I throw my head back at the same time, holding onto him tightly, and it doesn't take long for all the pleasure that had been building up so far to unravel at once – it apparently triggers the same on him, considering how tight his grasp gets whilst a higher pitched moan comes from him.

Coming down from the high, I feel almost numb, in a good way. Frank pulls away and I'm only aware of him when he's lying down next to me, both of us breathing heavily and unable to do anything aside from staring at the ceiling for a long moment.

"Damn, I love you so much, so much," he mumbles again.

I breathe a chuckle, feeling him cuddling up to me, arms wrapped around me. "And I love you, dumbass." I press a kiss to his head.

"My girlfriend now, right?" he asks. "Nevermind, you don't get to choose." He chuckles, though it quickly dies down. "Just kidding, okay? Tell me to and I'll fuck off."

I laugh, still breathless. "Of course I am. I didn't confess for nothing."

#frank iero x reader #frank iero imagine #frank iero #mcr #mcr fanfic #mcr x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #female reader #n*fw #my post #my chemical romance #fluff #smut #imagine #oneshot #requested

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musicallisto · 3 years

Note

hi!! congrats again on the absolutely amazing milestone loveee

i'd like to give u regulus black as a character for a writing sprint! (and if ur shuffle chooses a sad song.. my heart will break but SO BE IT)

if u aren't able to get around to this, no worries, do what makes u feel inspireddd

hi Rosie! I hope you enjoy this! luckily for you (and me both), it wasn't a sad song... but you might cry nonetheless.

Ϟ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 (𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤)

song: robbie williams - she's the one | 𝄞

author notes: regulus black deserves his chance at a happy ending and I am here to give it to him. this is an AU where no one died and Voldemort was defeated without the Potters' sacrifice and yada yada because who needs canon? not me.

features: female reader. tooth-rotting fluff. cute sirius makes a cameo.

𝐀 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 cascades on her shoulders with a slight twinkling sound every time her perfect head bobs to the rhythm. Her shiny hair casts a delicate shadow on her eyes, and she looks up at him, they light up with love like a ruby.

Is this what breathing in pure helium feels like? A dizzying lightness, like he's floating before the gates of heaven?

"You look incredible," Regulus murmurs next to her ear, leading her into a twirl.

"You've said that four times already, Reg."

"I can't help it. You truly look magnificent."

"That's five."

They both laugh, quietly, suspended above time in the middle of the vineyard. Above the wooden ceiling of the makeshift dancefloor, a hundred thousand stars and constellations hold their breath, taking in the sight of a pair of dazzling comets, softly combusting in their love for each other.

"I'm so lucky I have you," he whispers again, draping a hand over Y/N's waist.

He's half forgotten the steps, but she's always been a far better dancer than he was, even when they were young and tired and grappling with darkness and despair. And yet, in the middle of the war, in the ruin of a house, their hideout for the night, she'd take his hand and lead him into a slow dance on the beaten, creaking floorboards. Amidst the shattered chaos of the world, Y/N has been Regulus' blooming tree, the outline of a welcoming land after months at sea.

And the war is over now, and they are safe with their friends, getting married at a vineyard, two figures in pure white illuminated by the glow of fairy lights, but in truth, he has been safe ever since the nectar of Y/N's lips quenched his anger and soothed his fear.

"Look, we even got my brother to behave."

He spins Y/N under his arm so she can see the unprecedented event: Sirius is tapping his foot to the rhythm of the ballad, a glass on his hand and a dreamy smile on his lips. The boisterous young boy she's always known is long gone, if only for the night — for his brother's night, and she can read in his eyes all the tenderness and care he never allowed himself to show in his childhood.

"I think he's glad you turned out to be not so bad, after all."

A slight blush catches Regulus' cheeks, and he looks down. The guilt hasn't entirely subsided, despite his best efforts to make amends and serve the Order as best as he could.

"I'm so sorry—I was desperate and blinded..."

"I know, Reg. I know. Don't think about that. You have nothing to prove."

"I love you."

It slips out of his mouth effortlessly, in the casual detachment of words that have been uttered countless times, but never losing an ounce of their meaning. Her fingers in his and the creaking of his polished shoes on the floorboards are the only grips he retains on reality.

"I love you too, Regulus."

They stop for a moment, Y/N's hand buried in the crook of his neck, still holding hands, like marble lovers from times past, locked in an embrace for all eternity. He closes his eyes, savors Y/N's fragrance, of fresh roses and new beginnings, that comes to him in waves.

Then the music picks up, and he spins her around in a whimsical waltz as other dancers take the stage beside the bride and groom.

And the stars sigh well into the night.

tagging; @fives-cup-of-coffee @softeninglooks (all my writing) @swanimagines @bravelittlesunflower @randomfandomimagine @lxncelot @thisismiku @multifandomfix @heavcnslyre @amortensie (harry potter) @padfootno (marauders era)

#mywriting #900sprints #hp #harry potter #marauders era #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #marauders fanfic #marauders imagine #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #sirius black

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dancingazaleas · 3 years

Text

𖨆. 04 / all for us

summary: a few weeks later, you’re finally allowed to leave your room. however, you notice something that you later wish you hadn’t.

note: i had the worst headache whilst editing, i apologize for mistakes.

taglist: @the-sun-baby @voltairelesecond @baelo80 @uniquepickle

warnings/notes: cursing, last chapter was the calm before the storm, brutal assault, abuse, manipulation, blood, slight mind break, drugging, use of alcohol

YOU were surprised whenever erwin and levi told you that you'd been good enough to venture the house a little more a few weeks later. you had been doing the same thing as before, sitting in your room and crying, hanging with the two men for two hours, and back to being lonely.

right now, you were stuck in your room. staring out of the window into the garden with dull eyes, silent tears running down your face.

you want to go home and sleep in zeke's arms. you want to tell pieck you love her and you didn't mean what you'd said to her. you wanted to play goofy songs on the piano with bertholdt. you wanted to lay in the sun with porco and reiner while they both commit to a workout routine.

you'd do anything to have that again. anything.

you wiped away your tears whenever you heard footsteps. the door opened to reveal levi followed by his bear of a boyfriend. erwin had on a gentle smile while levi looked the same; irritated.

"c'mon, you're playing for me today," levi grunts and your eyes light up at the opportunity.

you haven't played any instrument since you were taken. your hands missed their place on the objects, fingers delicately strumming the strings or pressing on the keys. they missed their home, just like yourself.

you're glad that they hadn't caught any signs of you crying. if they had, you would've had to stay in the room and talk it out with them.

you obediently follow behind them, nightgown swishing as you walk excitedly. you watch them unlock a door that leads to your quarters, and for the first time you're in the living room without crying.

the living room is big and clean, so much to where you wonder if it's even been touched. you turn your gaze to the left, eyes acknowledge the large, black front door. your eyes widened while the voice in your head screams at you.

'RUN!!!' it says, 'THIS IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE!!’

your eyes dart down to look at the doorknobs and it's locks. the door was left unlocked.

you gulp down the ball starting to form in your throat and try to ignore how you've started to sweat. you look back at levi and erwin, who are not paying any mind to what you do. they made the mistake of not holding your chain and not having one of them walk behind you.

before you can even really think, you're gliding across the room to the door. swinging the door open just as levi and erwin turn to scream at you, and you almost feel your stomach drop at the view before you.

it's a long stone walkway with a gate sitting at the end, almost teasingly. you run quickly, ignoring how the rough stone scrapes roughly against the soles of your feet. the window is rushing through your hair and slapping against your face, something you relish in temporarily.

your legs are starting to ache from how fast you're pumping them, trying to get to the gate as quick as you can. the wind has you tearing up once more, but you reach up and wipe away the small tears.

you ignore the sound of levi's footsteps as well as his and erwin's angry screams, you're so close, you're almost there.

your mind flashes to porco and reiner for a brief moment. you thank them in your head, now happy with how the two would make you race with them during their workout routines sometimes.

you're almost there, your fingers even graze against the black metal of the fence. but your breath is being knocked out of your body as you're tugged backwards.

your chain. your chain was the cause of your demise, it had been loosely swinging behind you and over your shoulder as you ran.

your head along with your back slam against the stone, loud screams of pain bursting through your mouth. you're sliding towards the person your chain is being tugged by, nightgown now tearing apart because of the friction.

levi is above you, eyes looking almost animalistic along with an angry face that stares at you as he huffs to get his breath back. you lay in the fetal position, crying out at the tip of levi's shoe kicks into your stomach. it has you barfing, but as soon as you finish levi's hands are grabbing you by the hair and dragging you back to the house.

but halfway down the pathway, he lets go and it makes you nervous. his foot comes into contact with your nose, blooding immediately gushing out of it. you sob out after he kicks you in the same spot once more, you think you hear a crack.

his foot kicks at your ribs now, taking all the breath out of your body while your eyes go blank. you can't think, even as levi's knuckles connect with your jaw. you spit out blood and cry at the scratch you get from levi's wedding band.

his hand is tangled with your hair, and instead of trying to pull away, he uses it as leverage. he squats onto a knee, eyes widened as he slams your face into the stone. you screech, nails clawing at the rough terrain and look to erwin.

"HELP!!! HELP, PLEASE," you gargle out blood mixed with your spit, reaching a shaking hand to him.

"HE'S GONNA KILL ME, PLEASE," you wail just as levi hits you again.

"that's enough levi," erwin says, now standing behind levi and staring over his shoulder.

you look absolutely damaged. blood, spit, and tears smeared across your face and scrapes all over your fragile body. levi slams your head down one last time, detangling his hand from your hair and storming off.

erwin only sighs and takes you in his arms, ignoring how your whole body trembles the moment he touches it.

"you're ignorant," he shakes his head, "i told you that levi would hurt you if you tried to run, and you didn't listen."

he's placing you onto your bed after he's walked back inside, eyebrows furrowed and nostrils flared from irritation. his palm smacks you across your face, and you sob from the pain.

"let me tell you something," he murmurs into your ear, "even if you'd gotten passed the gates, we would've found you."

you're panting and sobbing, wanting erwin to step away from you.

"that little collar of your's has a tracker," he whispers, "you'll never be able to get away."

those are the last words you hear before you black out.

————

you sit in the bathtub a few days later, listening to the gentle singing of erwin as he drenches you in warm water.

it burns against your skin, something you'd pointed out, but they ignore. you supposed it's an extension of your punishment.

when you get out of the bath, erwin tends to your wounds. he puts on a new bandage over the cut on your face from levi's wedding band, and new bandages onto your arms and torso.

later that night, erwin finds you curled in a ball into the corner of your dark closet. hands protectively shielding your head and covering your ears, shoulders quivering as tears run down your face.

"darling," he frowns, "you've got to stop coming in here."

you don't answer, which doesn't surprise him, and only pull your hands closer to yourself. he knows you won't willingly get up, so he brings the tray into the closet.

"i have to feed you, i need you to comply," you relax, hesitantly taking your arms away from your head and lowering your knees onto the floor.

he feeds you in silence, the only noise being the air conditioner coming off and on as he spends his time in there. he notices how you struggle to swallow down your food, probably from how levi's kicks damaged your ribs along with your stomach. before he can leave, he hears your hoarse voice asking for an answer.

"erwin...," you say, "how... how did you guys kidnap me?"

erwin sighs a bit, deciding to get himself comfortable as he begins the story.

————

it was a rainy night, raindrops froze against your skin as they pelted towards the ground. erwin and levi, your newfound friends, had invited you to go drinking with them a couple of weeks prior. you accepted with hesitance, but the hesitance was thrown out of the window whenever you and pieck had gotten in a fight earlier that evening.

you needed to get your mind off of the heated argument, pieck told you that you're a fuck up while you said that you hate her. you knew that you would regret this in the morning, but right now you're way too sad to even give a fuck.

when you enter the club, you find levi and erwin sitting and talking to one another at the bar. they both already have drinks and look as handsome as ever.

you sing out a greeting as you take the stool between them, ordering yourself a fruity drink.

"glad you could make it," erwin smiled to you, bringing his transparent drink to his lips.

"i promised i'd be here! besides, after the night i've had, i deserve to get drunk. what are you two even drinking," you smirked while looking to levi, bumping your shoulder against his.

he rolled his eyes your antics, while erwin spoke, "levi isn't really able to get drunk, but he's drinking whiskey. i'm drinking bourbon. what happened?"

you sighed, but it's cut off whenever the bartender puts your drink onto the counter in front of you.

"my best friend and i got into a fight, something about the house we share and something her cat did. she said i was a fuck up, i said i hated her. we'll be crying and apologizing by tomorrow," you fanned your hand and take a swig of your drink.

erwin opened his mouth to say something, but you interrupt him with a hoot as you slam the glass back to the counter.

"that's strong!" you laughed, barely noticing how quickly you downed it, "can i have another one?!"

"you shouldn't drink too much," erwin said while he pats your back.

you can't yell at him since levi asks a question before you could, "wanna have shots?"

"yes, please! what should be get," you grinned, the both of you ignoring the disapproving look from erwin.

"kamikaze shots," he smirks, "unless you can't handle it."

"are you fuckin' kidding?! let's go, right now," you're overly excited, slightly buzzed as you move around.

said shots were placed before you and levi. you picked it up and clinked glasses with him as you laugh, slamming it back down to the counter and downing it with a grimace. you shouted out in excitement once again, throwing your hands into the air.

"let's fuckin' go!!"

"let's not," erwin pulled your hands back into your lap, which you giggle at.

levi orders you another drink, you don't exactly hear what it is even whenever the bartender puts it down in front of you. your words are slurring as you laugh and chat with the two of them, eyelids heavy as you feel yourself getting more and more tired.

"hey, (name)," levi pushed his knee against your's, spinning the liquid in his cup around.

"wh... what's up," you grinned stupidly whilst laying your head against the counter.

"we like you, romantically," the statement had you sobering up, eyes shooting open and head shooting up.

"huh? what'd you say? i think i'm really drunk now."

"i said what i said," erwin's slightly panicking over your shoulder, "would you want to be with us?"

you squinted your eyes, temples suddenly throbbing with pain. you came out to have fun, not this.

"no," you sighed sadly, "i don't like you guys like that. plus, i'd feel intrusive."

levi gave a drawn out hum as he takes your drink from the bartender and putting it onto the coaster before you.

"it's okay, don't worry," levi shrugged, hand retreating back to his glass of whiskey.

you sighed in relief and break into a smile, once again drowning yourself in the fruity drink levi's given you. when you slam it back down, you cringe and your face is pulled into a grimace once more.

the drink tasted weird, nothing like the name implied. you try to wrack what alcohol exactly tastes the way this one does, salty. it tastes salty. and it's not like it's only alcohol in the drink, at least you think.

your eyes shoot wide as you come to the realization. this is a rape-date drink. and you've just downed the drink within seconds.

your mouth opened, but nothing but gibberish comes out. the last thing you see before your eyes droop is levi's small smirk with arms opened wide.

————

the story has you recoiling into a ball again, tears streaming out of your face while erwin tries to put a hand on your shoulder.

levi inflicted so much pain. physical and mental. he's the one who got you drunk, he's the one who drugged you, he's the one who slapped you day one, and he's the one who beat you. and erwin helped. erwin ordered.

"don't touch me, please," you whisper, backing yourself further and further into the corner of the closet.

"please, i want to comfort you," he frowns, once again reaching his hand out.

"NO!!" you cry and slap his hand, immediately retracting from fear.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to," you fumble with your words and curl inwards more, "please don't hurt me again, please. i don't want to hurt anymore."

erwin's heart aches as you start to tremble, noticing how hard you were digging your nails into your scalp.

"it's okay," he says calmly, "i won't hurt you."

you choke out your words, "but levi will. he'll hurt me again."

erwin stays silent, knowing full well that you were correct. erwin was barely able to smack you without feeling bad, he couldn't imagine kicking you in the ribs. erwin can feel a ball in the back of his throat, picking up the tray in silence and leaving you alone.

you cry as you lay on the floor now, fetal position. you're going to fall asleep soon, and you're okay with you. you feel slightly more protected in the closet on the floor than in your bed.

your eyes are fluttering close.

you hope that you won't get hurt again.

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Return

It's been 2 years since you were last in Dublin. 2 years since you up and left without warning, saying goodbye to your life there and restarting somewhere completely new. Sometimes, you have to go backwards in order to move forwards.

Requested by @noctvrnalmoth I hope you like it!

*Featuring Jim from the Delinquent Season*

Stepping off the train into the platform, you sighed. It all looked the same, and yet so different. Pulling the buggy open, you gently strapped your sleeping son in and made your way to the taxi rank, your suitcase trailing behind you. A kind lady helped you with your bags and waited with you for an available taxi.

"You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders there, are you okay?" She sat next to you on the bench as your son murmured adorably in his sleep. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry..."

"No don't be sorry.. just been a long time since I came back here is all. Few loose ends to tie up." You glanced at your son's sleepy features as his eyes started to open. Beautiful, ocean blue eyes alongside his dark hair, growing more every day... The memories of that night flooding back before you took a large gulp of water from the bottle in your bag, forcing them back down. You'd done so well... 2 years and you'd built a new life in London. New friends, amazing new job allowing you to put that degree in marketing to good use - you were finally making a complete fresh start. But the secrets you had buried deep inside kept coming to the surface the more your son grew. He deserved to know his roots, who his father was, you knew that, but you couldn't do it.

Choking a tear back, you thanked the kind lady for helping you as a taxi pulled up and she helped you to get in.

Pulling up outside your cousin Natalie's townhouse in the city centre, she was waiting for you at the gate to help with Jackson and your bags. Grinning from ear to ear she pulled you in for a huge hug once you'd got inside and settled on her couch as Jackson sat in this new lady's lap tugging at her earrings.

"I can't believe I'm only just meeting him y/n.. he's the image of you!!" She kissed his cheek, bringing him up to look at him properly for the first time not over Skype.

"I never see it, I just see.... I just see him I guess..." You mind wandered to the man you actually saw, but you didn't let it slip.

"Those EYES!!! So blue and vibrant, just beautiful!" Natalie was swooning now, she'd never seen eyes that blue on a baby. Your eyes were brown, so he clearly inherited them from his father, although you had never revealed his identity - just a drunken one night stand and he wasn't involved. You weren't lying, technically...

After catching up properly, Natalie told you she'd planned a few people coming over to welcome you back that evening - nothing major, just a few friends from years ago that were keen to see you after so long away.

"Oh.. yes, that would be nice... Um, who's coming?"

"Well I think David and Amanda, possibly Caroline.. I think Liam is asking Jim too but I'm not sure if he's up for it - he's been through a tough time lately.." you caught a gasp in your throat at the sound of his name. Last you heard, through Natalie, he and Danielle were going through a rough patch. Cheating accusations on both sides, they'd agreed to a trial separation. "Apparently she isn't as broken hearted as once thought - already shacked up with someone new, fancy house on the coast, new Jag on the driveway, she's doing quite well for herself!" Your chin began to wobble, not unnoticed by Natalie, who placed Jackson in his bouncer on the floor and moved to place a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm fine Nat, honestly I'm good. It was a long time ago, things have changed. I'm not that silly little girl with a crush anymore..." Natalie looked into your eyes. Nothing ever got past her.

"Y/n.. when I said I'd never seen eyes that blue, I meant on a baby. Only one person I know has eyes like that, and I think you know too. Tell me the truth, please?" You were frozen, until tears escaped and you couldn't stop them. Jackson looked to see his mum crying and began crying too. Scooping him up, you held him close.

"It happened once... Just once Nat... And he doesn't know and he doesn't need to know, let's just leave it there, yeah?"

"What?? This is Jim's son? I was almost kidding y/n... How could you keep this from him for 2 years??" She was stood up now in complete shock. Jim wasn't just her friend, he was her husband's brother - this made things even more intense. The atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

"Please Nat... This wasn't easy okay? I was 21, I slept with a married man, and I got pregnant... Then mum died.. I had to go back to London to sort out the funeral and the will... I didn't want to be seen as the homewrecker that got herself knocked up..."

"And what about Jackson? Doesn't he deserve to know his father?"

"Of course... And he would.. when I was ready Nat. And I'm not ready..."

"Not ready for what?" Liam, Natalie's husband was stood in the doorway, as you heard the front door close. Now standing next to him was the man you were desperately trying to avoid... Jim stood behind him, eyes wide at the sight of you with a baby in your arms.

"Baby, we need to go pick up that delivery from the post office, remember the one we missed last week?" Natalie pulled a confused Liam out of the room, leaving his brother and you alone.

"Y/n... Hey.. um.. how are you?" You tried to smile in response but your heart was pounding in your chest, you could barely breathe.

"I.. yeah.. um, yeah I'm okay.." you glanced down at his hand.. the wedding ring was gone. "I'm sorry to hear about you and Olivia..."

"Probably for the best eh... We weren't exactly getting along, just stayed together for the kids I think. They're older now though, they're fine. Y/n.. where did you go? Why did you go?"

"My mum was ill... She'd had a stroke and they couldn't save her, I had to go... I just stayed.. and things happened.."

"You had a baby..." He looked at the little boy in your arms, feeling extremely nervous now. "He must be just over a year old, right?" You nodded.

"13 months.."

"And we... We had sex y/n.. the day before you left..." His own breath was faltering now as the dates in his mind started to catch up. Again, you nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. The realisation of what was happening dawned on Jim. He started to back away, before shaking his head and storming out of the house, the door slamming behind him making you and your son jump.

Your sobs came out in full force now, Liam and Natalie coming back into the room. Liam took Jackson into the kitchen to find him something to eat as Natalie held you.

"It's okay y/n... Give him time yeah? Poor guys just had the shock of his life, he'll come round." Your heart was sinking.. you hadn't meant for any of this to happen, but here it was. The memory of that afternoon had never left you, you hadn't even been able to move on - your son, for starters, looked just like him, how could you find love with anyone with the constant reminder of the man you'd never have around you 24/7.

Flashback

"I'm so sorry Jim, I didn't know who else to call..." You climbed into his car, cheeks burning as he picked you up from outside the pharmacy. You'd been walking along the road when a pothole in the pavement took you by surprise and you'd tripped, your ankle turning funny - the pain was horrific, but no one seemed to be answering your phone calls when you rang around for someone to come pick you up. Reluctantly, you'd dialled Jim's number, your cousin's brother in law. He'd given you his number the previous week, after offering to help you move into your new apartment later that month.

"No problem, I was just dropping the kids at school so I was only round the corner." He helped you into the car and drove you back to his house. "I figured your place is in boxes, no chance of a first aid kit either, I'm guessing?"

"No," You laughed. "Thank you so much.." you grimaced as you turned your foot round, trying to ease the pain.

"Definitely not broken, just need to rest it. I'll put the kettle on." Jim led you into the kitchen and sat you down at the kitchen table, and grabbed an ice pack from the fridge. Lifting your leg onto the chair opposite, he placed the ice pack onto your ankle. "Feeling okay?" He asked, flicking the kettle on and preparing two mugs of coffee.

"Much better.. thank you." Definitely better.. the physical contact from him was driving you insane, you had to swallow the blushes in your cheeks, praying he hadn't noticed.

"I've only got instant coffee... Hope that's okay - Danielle won't let me buy a coffee machine." He rolled his eyes. His wife was one of the tightest women he'd ever met.

"It's fine, thank you.. and I honestly can't thank you enough for coming to get me.. I can't believe how clumsy I am!"

"Hey those pavements are a nightmare - I'm surprised no one's broken a leg yet! Don't you be moving now, I'll take you back home once that swelling has gone down."

"How did you know how to fix it all?"

"I have a son, y/n, who at one stage a few years ago thought he was an actual superhero and would fling himself off anything to check if he could fly.. you learn the difference between a broken ankle and a twisted one pretty quick!" He laughed, remembering the time his son climbed the tallest tree in the park, giving him a heart attack before throwing himself from the top - luckily Jim caught him before he hit the floor.

"I think it's better now, Jim, I can try and walk." You said, after chatting for a while in the large kitchen.

"Let me help you.." he held your hands and guided you upright, your chests now pressed together as you placed your foot gingerly on the floor, testing it's strength. Stumbling slightly, Jim caught you, your bodies now even closer together. You could feel his heart racing, could he feel yours? His hands wrapping around yours, holding you up, an arm snaking round your waist. You looked up and found him looking right back at you, your face inches from his. Before you had time to think, you kissed him, before quickly pulling back.

"Shit I'm sorry... Oh god.. no... I'm sorry..." He took your hand in his and pulled you back to him, pressing his lips back to yours. This time you didn't pull back, your mouth opening allowing his tongue to dance against yours. Lifting you up, he sat you on top of the counter, his hands roaming your body hungrily.

"I can't... I shouldn't..." He murmured against your neck, the vibrations driving you wild with need. "You're so fucking beautiful y/n..." He ground your hips against yours, you could feel his erection through his jeans as you reached down to cup it through them, kneading it slightly. He growled, pulling your hand up to his chest, his heart hammering underneath his shirt. "You feel that? Feel how fast that's going?" Silently you took his hand and placed against your chest.

"Feel mine...." You pushed his hand down lower.. over your breast... Down your stomach and under the waistband of your skirt. His fingers found your folds, and he gasped your name. "I'm wet... I'm so fucking wet..." Lifting your skirt up, he pulled your underwear down. You relieved him of his jeans and they fell to the floor, revealing no underwear, just his huge, hard cock already leaking.

"I see you are too..." You ran a finger along the slit, taking some of the precum and lifting it to your mouth. "You taste good..."

"You want this...?" He asked, lining himself up against you. You nodded, and he pushed in easily, you gasped his name and threw your head back as he filled you completely. Pulling on your hips, he rocked you against him as he moved his own hips back and forth, fucking you against the countertop. You legs wrapped round his waist as his thrusts came harder, deeper, faster.

"Fuck... Right there... Jim... Oh god...." He bit down on your exposed neck, hands pushing against your still covered breasts, he moaned.

"Feels so good y/n... You feel so good... That's it baby, I need to feel you... Cum for me..." You leaned back, and eyes locked with his you drew a hand down to circle your clit as he moved inside you.

"Gonna make myself cum on you... Gonna cum hard for you... Faster Jim..." He pounded into you now, your moans echoing through the kitchen as you came over him, his release following seconds later. Both of you leaned your heads together as your worlds came back into focus.

Present Day

"Hey."

"Hey.." you'd agreed to meet Jim for a coffee a few days later. He'd called you the evening before, slightly tipsy which made you chuckle. Liam and Natalie were watching Jackson while the two of you caught up.

"How's the hangover?" You smiled, he grimaced.

"Well I've definitely felt fresher.. it was a bit of a shock y/n..."

"Listen.. for what it's worth.. I'm sorry. I didn't know I was pregnant until I was nearly 20weeks. With the stress of losing mum and the funeral, I hadn't had a period for a while but I thought it was just the stress.. then my friend convinced me to take a test and the doctors confirming it.. it was too late to do anything about it.. then I heard you and Danielle were trying for another baby and I just couldn't do it Jim.. I couldn't destroy your life like that.." your hands were shaking. He leaned over and took your hands in his.

"I understand y/n.. I do. I spent most of this week thinking about it. I don't blame you for what you did.. but I do wish you'd told me."

"I'd done enough damage Jim, sleeping with a married man? On his kitchen counter where he makes his kids breakfast? Where his wife makes her coffee in the morning? I couldn't face you.. I couldn't face what I'd done.."

"You know where my wife was, that morning?" He leaned back, smiling a little. "At her office, bent over the desk while her boss fucked her from behind. She called my number by accident while it happened. I didn't answer, obviously, I was busy.. but my voicemail picked up the whole thing. I'd had my suspicions for a long time, but that confirmed it. We were never trying for another baby - that's just what she told people to distract them from the fact we were clearly falling apart at the seams. Couldn't exactly be mad at her after what I'd done with you though."

"Did you tell her?"

"Yes, but she didn't know it was you. Then you up and left.. I thought there was no need to tell her who it was. I guess now we kinda have to, right?"

"Jim, I don't expect anything from you, okay? I have an inheritance from my mum, I'm fine for money, there's no need to be involved if it'll cause you problems.."

"No. You've kept him from me for nearly 2 years y/n, don't do this again, please? I'm not asking you to move in, I'm not asking for a relationship, I just want to get to know our boy.. that's all.. please?" You saw it in his eyes. It was there, for all to see. Was it love?

"I'll call Nat.. ask her to bring him over, maybe we could go for a walk?" Jim smiled, nodding. You made the call, and an hour later you were walking to the local park, Jim pushing the stroller. He took Jackson out of the buggy and placed him inside a baby swing, pushing him gently while pulling silly faces making him giggle. Your heart swelled watching them.

"He's incredible.. those eyes.."

"Your eyes, Jim." He looked up at you and smiled listening to his son's giggle, before he started becoming grouchy again.

"He's teething... Come on little man, let's get you back shall we?" Jim lifted him from the swing and placed his little finger in Jackson's mouth. He responded by sucking his gums along it, finding relief. You smiled, watching Him soothe your son's whimpers of pain as his teeth came through.

Making your way inside Natalie's house, you were surprised to find it empty. A note on the kitchen counter read that they'd gone out for the afternoon, they wouldn't be home until the evening. You warmed a bottle of milk for Jackson as Jim gave him some Calpol. Taking the bottle from you, he fed his son, as you watched, heart pounding as you watched the man you were still in love with take such good care of your baby. Within 15 minutes, Jackson was fed and had been rocked to sleep in his father's arms, you took him and placed him upstairs in his cot to nap. You knew he'd be out for at least an hour after all that fresh air. Walking back into the lounge, you found Jim sat on the sofa waiting for you.

"Come here, y/n..." You sat next to him as he turned to face you, hand gently caressing your cheek. "What are we going to do now?"

"I'm heading back to London tomorrow Jim..." His eyes glistened slightly. He'd just found his son, and now he was going again. He'd just got you back in his life, and now you were disappearing again...

"What can I do to make you stay?" His question took you by surprise. Stay?

"Jim, I..."

"I haven't stopped thinking about you.. about what happened 2 years ago. How long I'd wanted you, how long I'd dreamt of you, how I still dream of you even now.. and we share a son y/n.. I can't let you go again, it'd break me.."

"I'm half your age Jim! I'm barely older than your eldest child, how can this possibly work?" He answered with a kiss. Leaning forward to take your mouth against his, without thinking you returned it, linking your fingers with his as he pulled you into his lap.

"It'll work because we'll make it work.. nothing else matters.. all of that other stuff is irrelevant.." he felt you grind your hips against his and his erection was burning against his jeans. He needed you, now.

"And Danielle?"

"Is fucking a man old enough to be her own father - opinion invalid. I don't care about her, I care about you.. please.." he was aware of how desperate he sounded but he didn't care. He had his hand under your t-shirt against your breast, no bra in the way this time. Lifting you up, he carried you upstairs to the guest room you were staying in, and laid you down softly on the bed underneath him.

"Birth control?" He looked at you, smiling.

"The coil - don't worry, I'm covered this time.." You smiled back as he lifted your t-shirt over your head and kissed you again. The reason for being at the pharmacy 2 years ago was to collect your prescription for the pill - you'd not taken it for a couple of days after running out suddenly. After Jackson was born, you switched to a more efficient form of birth control.

Pulling your skirt down and off, along with your underwear, he nestled his face between your thighs, now parted by his hands.

"I want you to watch me y/n... Watch me as I make you cum..." Your core burning, you raised yourself up on your elbows as he blew a hot breath against your wet folds, causing you to shiver under him. He parted your lips with his fingers, before licking from your pulsing hole up to your clit, finding a rhythm that made you cry out and shudder underneath his tongue. Smiling, groaning into you, you tried to keep your eyes on him as he licked and sucked your throbbing clit in his mouth.

"Jim.. don't stop.. oh god..." You hadn't had sex since that afternoon 2 year ago, no one being good enough to compete with the man currently buried between your legs. No pleasure you'd given yourself since was a patch on this, and you felt that burning feeling in your stomach starting to rise. "I'm close... Mm... Fuck I'm close..." Your words barely a whisper but he heard them, pushing harder with his tongue as a finger entered you, hooking upwards to find that spot inside, the one you didn't think actually existed, but there it was.. you bucked against his mouth, coming hard and fast - you felt your liquids gush over his chin, there was no stopping them... "Aha... Oh god Jim... Fuck... Stop, it's too much..." He smiled, blowing another warm breath over you before moving back to your mouth. You could taste yourself on his lips, turning you on even more.

Flipping him onto his back, you lifted his clothes off him and kissed down his chest. Your core needed a breather before you took him inside you. Licking the top of his now rock hard cock, you slowly sank your lips down, taking him fully inside your mouth. You'd never had a strong gag reflex, and you enjoyed the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

"Holy fuck... Jesus y/n... That's it baby..." Up and down your head bobbed, swapping between hard and light sucks, your teeth gently scraping the underside of his cock and your fingers lightly playing with his balls underneath you. Every time you felt them tighten, you'd ease off, allowing him to catch his breath, before bringing him into your mouth again. After a few near explosions, he couldn't take anymore and lifted you off motioning for you to sit on him. "Ride me y/n..." You smiled, and sank your pussy onto him, allowing him to fill you. Slowly so as to adjust to his length, your hips moved, back and forth, up and down, finding the right rhythm for you both. He sat up, chests together and his hands under your thighs as he rotated his hips from underneath, driving his cock against that magical spot again.

"Yes... God that feels good... Jim..."

"I'm not gonna last long y/n..."

"That's okay.. we've got plenty of time to make up for this... Cum in me, give me all of you..." You felt his cock twitch inside you as he moved your hips faster. Leaning back, you rode him hard, the bed frame squeaking underneath as you both cried out, your climaxes arriving simultaneously. Coming back to rest your head against his, you clenched your core once more causing him to gasp as you drew yourself off him slowly. Lay down next to each other, he pulled you into his arms.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, kissing your head gently. "Plenty of time?"

"I meant it, Jim... I need to get back to London to sort a few things, put my flat up for sale.. my job... But yes. If you'll have us, we'll come back.." you looked into his eyes. He lifted your head to kiss you and you felt it. All the love you thought you'd never find, in the man you thought you'd never find it with.

Everything was going to be fine, you couldn't wait to start your life over again, this time for the last time.

@margoo0 @queenshelby @peakyscillian @cloudofdisney @ntmynouis @being-worthy

#delinquent season #jim delinquent season x y/n #cillian smut #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #cillian x smut

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everafterkeiji · 3 years

Text

Song: Hiccup by Valley

Summary: After encountering a road block in your relationship, what path will you take to wind up your broken heart with Iwaizumi?

Pairings: Hajime Iwaizumi x fem!reader

Genre/Warning: angst, cursing

Word count: 6k

A/N: i promise myself i was going to write some bokuto fluff but this song keeps bringing me back to iwa😣 also pls listen to this song<3

2 YEARS AGO

"Tooru."

You call out to him, knees to the floor clutching tightly on your shirt, droplets to the wooden surface. Oikawa harshly closes his eyes, unable to let his eyes rest on your weakened state. He takes a deep breath when he hears your mournful sob. He hears how you took in rough gasps of air so he drops the box from his hands as he rushes to you, his knee scraping from sliding to the floor as he takes you in his chest as you sobbed even more. Oikawa allowing his own tears to fall on your clothes.

He consistently caresses your hair, as your sniffles and cries of pain covered the eary atmosphere of your apartment.

"Tooru." You call out again, he closes his eyes as he leans his head on yours. He dreaded every second that passed knowing he shouldn't be the one to comfort you, but he knew your savior wasn't going to rescue you this time.

"Do you think he'll miss me?"

"I know he will, darling." He assures you, and you wipe your eyes gasping for air once again before speaking again. He lets his hand slide down to your back, patting it every now and then.

"But there's someone better huh?"

Oikawa bites his lip, and you take this silence as an answer you'd never forget. Your lips tug upwards, grinning at how it stung when it came from Oikawa. To Tooru, no one could replace you. He couldn't envision someone to love his brother the way you did and no amount of pain can top how much you cherished each other but he couldn't answer because he was unsure of the motives of the past ace.

"Thank you for staying." You whisper and he pulled you closer as he sighs, glancing at the apartment that appeared in their late night video calls. The same room where he saw the brightest smile that was painted on Iwaizumi, the eyes that carried passion whenever you'd pop up. Visiting the apartment for the first time, he didn't expect how- lifeless it felt.

"Always."

PRESENT

You stretched as you rolled over to the side, used to the ghost of him. You shouldn't be used to it, he should be there to occupy it everyday but every morning you were just greeted by the chilliness he brought you.

The sun sneakily shined upon your eyes as you immediately turn away, expecting the memories to strike your heart like it does whenever the sun flaunted its rays.

"You're mesmerizing." He whispers, his pointer finger inched its way down to your cheek, smiling to himself. You hummed in response, shuffling in the sheets as his heart pounders at the sight of your shoulder peeking through the thin material, with the sunlight decorating your skin with its beauty.

You opened your eyes only to be surprised by how bright the sun was making you close them immediately, giggling to yourself. Who knew his heart could melt even more? Once you've slowly opened your eyes again, you gaze at your Hajime placing a hand on his cheek. With his hand on your chin, he slowly lifts it so your lips meet with his as you smile, running your hand from his cheek to his hair, while closing your eyes at the

He pulls away as butterflies swarmed inside him, pushing back the string of hair that landed in your eyes.

"I love you."

"Forever?"

"And ever after."

You curse at the usual memory that would pass you every morning. It annoyed you how there wasn't a day where you weren't starting the morning this pissed off. Realistically speaking, you adored how your memories would bring life to your body once in a while but when love appears, pain tags along- making it hard to enjoy the only things that could take away the emptiness.

Without him, you could never bring yourself to close the curtains. A habit you've devastatingly brought upon yourself.

Whenever the sun rose and it's light surrounded your room, it was the closest embrace you could ever have from him.

You let your fingers graze over the longing sensation on your lips. Incapable of forgetting how every kiss from his plush lips made you high. Intoxicated with his devotion to you. Each having it's own unique way of bringing you stories from the way it synced with yours.

Do you ever think about coming back to kiss my mouth? You ask yourself, sadly letting go of your lips before stepping into the bathroom.

I miss the taste of you and it's always been you. Iwaizumi thinks to himself as he feels the tingle of coldness from his lips. Like you, he adored the way his mornings were blessings but his room looked like a grave for his emotions.

Curtains closed, not allowing to let the sun peak through since the light in his world wasn't there to bring back the life in his soulless apartment.

He steps out of bed entering his bathroom, brushing his teeth as he rubs his eyes with his free hand.

"S-shush! Baby- baby stop talking!" He says chuckling before placing the toothbrush in your mouth. You two were superbly drunk and it seems like even if Iwaizumi was drunk to the gods, he was still the responsible one in the relationship. You were already about to pass out but his loud laughter kept you awake.

"But Hajime- let me sleep already, you're so noisy bub." You pout but he chuckles again. You turn behind you try and sit on top of the counter but you slid off when you jumped. Iwaizumi shakes his head with a grin as he places his hand on your waist before effortlessly lifting you and placing you on the bathroom sink.

You continue to brush your teeth as he watches how your eyes would droop every second. You spit out the toothpaste before taking in some water and spitting it out as well. You wiped your mouth before bringing your arms outward. "Am I okay now babe? Hajime- honey I wanna sleep." You beg as he rolls his eyes taking you in his arms, like a bride.

"And what about you mister? Did you brush your teeth?" You teased, taking in the aroma of alcohol he had. He bit his lips trying not to laugh but he shakes his head, answering your question. You let out a gasp of betrayal as you hopped out of his arms grabbing the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it, but you hear his cackle making you laugh as well, addicted to how it made you join him in an instant.

"Princess, at least put it on the actual brush. Not the other end you dumbie." He states making you look down on your failure of an attempt. You let out an "Oh." and this brought tears to both of your eyes from laughing endlessly.

He gazes at his reflection through the mirror as he takes a deep breath. It felt like if he'd utter a word, his voice would already crack at the resurfaced moment. He scolds himself for having minimal change in a span of two years. He told himself that he shouldn't wallow in the grief but he endured it for days.

There wasn't a clear way for him to move on, especially when you drained him from all functions of his mind. The only thing that interests him to be happy was that he held on to the probability of meeting you again. Even if the chances were slim to none, he'd take anything that there is left just to see you again.

Though it seems like, he'd have to suffer longer just for it to happen.

Maybe I'd understand the things that you'd do. You whisper as you take another gulp of alcohol. It was Saturday, your supposed late night sessions with Iwaizumi but instead you were solo for today, and maybe for the rest of the years. You bitterly chuckle to yourself as you didn't bother to answer Oikawas call. Your phone kept going off, receiving dozens of messages and missed calls from the setter. He deeply hated Saturdays, or at least your version of it.

Whether you chose to bottle down every beer you had, or scream and get smothered in mascara stains from crying, or even worse, both. Sometimes you'd even mistaken Oikawa for Iwaizumi, and Oikawa allows it knowing it's a way for you to cope. He hated how far away he was but he strictly told you that if you were ever to pursue yourself to go to the club, he'd drop everything and book a ticket to you immediate, of course this was enough for you to listen especially when you'd feel guilty for wasting his time.

Oikawa knew better than to ask for Iwaizumis help. He remained a bridge for the two of you, knowing he'd encounter to different sides. Iwaizumi had him pick up his belongings in your apartment, denying to step foot in your room. In which brought Oikawa to tears at sight of his best friends past lover in such a disaster of a state. So granting Iwaizumis wish, he stayed.

"Why can't you do it? It's your apartment." Oikawa argued making Iwaizumi grunt in pain as he secretly wipes away the tears in his eyes. He sighs before facing the setter.

"She hates me, Oikawa." He says, staring directly at the boy. Oikawa scoffs but stares at the ground, hands to his side formed in a fist.

Is it that bad? He questions.

"Iwa- what happened?" He asks nervously but Iwaizumi only closes his eyes as he tries to get rid of the screams from the previous night.

"I'll tell you soon. When you see her, maybe you'll understand why I can't do this, why I can't face her. Just please do me one favor." The tone in his voice slowly lessens with the last sentence, making Oikawas heart ache for the two of you. Looking at Iwaizumis eyes, Oikawa could see the way he was holding back, but from what? There was a certain change in his usual stare- he looked lost.

Oikawa sits on the couch as he lets his hand gesture for Iwaizumi to speak. He couldn't say anything else but he hoped that Iwaizumi would take his silence as an answer already. Oikawa would do anything for Iwa, and if he was your other half, and Oikawa will do the same to you.

"Save her."

"From what, Iwa?"

"From what I've done."

Oikawa was impatiently waiting for your response but it seems you've decided to push him aside again. Although he was home, the distance from him to you was troublesome so he insisted to call you instead.

He assumed that last year you've gotten better since you spent you Saturday sleeping instead of drinking, but it progressively got worse.

"I mean, one drink wouldn't hurt right?"

He was dumbfounded when one drink turned into hundreds. He knew it was difficult to continue especially when you and Iwaizumi were having the time of your lives everytime. Whether you were extremely drunk, he knew that you two acted the complete same when you were sober. There wasn't a difference, meaning that's just how love worked between you two.

"Tooru- honey!" You shout as Iwaizumi pouts. It was your 4th anniversary and Oikawa decided to call to greet the lovely couple another successful year of your relationship.

"It's shittykawa to you, babe." Iwaizumi teases making Oikawa rolls his eyes. Through the camera, he sees you above Iwaizumi with arms wrapped around his neck without your chin resting on the boys head as he smiles, content to see that 4 years and love didn't change, not even a bit.

"Disgusting lovebirds, happy anniversary to you both!" Oikawa cheers as you giggle, blowing a kiss to him for greeting you two.

"Thank you Tooru-" your words were cut off by a gasp of realization as you shake Iwaizumi. Hajime takes in your excitement as he shakes his head at your actions.

"Hajime! There's no way you're not making Tooru as your best man- anyway! Tooru! This my official invitation for you to be his best man at our wedding!" Oikawa laughs as he raises his eyebrow to Iwaizumi who had a smirk on his lips.

"Well, I will be overly disappointed if I wasn't chosen. If Iwa-chan declines, I'll be your best man instead Y/N, or if you take my offer, I'll be the groom." He winks to you as you laugh before taking another sip of your drink. Iwaizumi flips off Oikawa and the setter only returns this by poking his tongue out to his best friend.

"So is that right, Iwa-chan? Will you finally bend the knee for the lovely lady?" With Oikawas question, you turn to Iwaizumi as if you were nervous. You bit your lip looking at your boyfriend before he pecks your lips catching you off guard as he looks at you with a smirk.

"I'd be a fool not to." He says making you squeal, as you immediately cover your face in your hands, embarassed by how red you got. Oikawa rolls his eyes, envious at the love you shared. Although, he is joyous that you've made Iwaizumi the happiest man he can be, even if you two weren't married yet, to Oikawa it looks like your relationship will only lead to the altar.

There wasn't a single doubt to that.

"Y/N! I thought you've forgotten how to pick up the phone again." He scolds you but his anger washes away when he sees you with red eyes and sniffling uncontrollably.

"Hajime." She calls out, as Oikawa sighs into his pillow realizing it's another night of him acting as Iwaizumi. He's already heard all the things you wanted to say to the missing boy and he accepted the fact that you'll never have the heart to say it to Iwaizumi himself.

"Why do I miss you, now that you're out of my life?" You cried. Oikawa only rests his chin on the palm of his hand as you continued to pour your sadness upon him. You swing the bottle in your hands before downing another wave of liquor.

"I wanna know what you're doing tonight." You whisper as you take your phone, clicking on Iwaizumis contact but before you could, Oikawa spoke, knowing your next intentions.

"No, not again Y/N." He says but you shake your head your finger threatening to press it already.

"Y/N listen to me, Iwa would have contacted you right now but this isn't the time!" He argued but you scoffed, angry tears brimming in your eyes.

"No! Then when will that time come then! I've been waiting for so fucking long already! It's never gonna happen 'cause he's forgotten me- Fuck!" You shouted, taking Oikawa by surprise as you collapse to the floor once again, Oikawa coming back to the sight of you he wanted to forget.

"Y/N- babe I'm sorry-"

"Enough, Oikawa. If you could've been honest that Hajime's found another, then-then maybe I-" your voice cracks as you stressfully runs your fingers through your hair, gripping it tight in your hands as you let out another doleful sob, breaking Toorus heart.

"I don't know what do anymore." You whispered, your heart shattering in to even more finer pieces. You couldn't even put into words how you've been in torment for years.

It finally dawned on you that you weren't headed to the altar, you were headed in a different path.

Without him.

"Y/N- listen- Iwaizumi-" you ended the call leaving Oikawa stunned as he drops the phone in his hands in frustration and in regret. He decided to visit Iwaizumi, knowing it'd be hard to ever communicate with you again, especially that you've been struck by a wrong thought.

And no one else could handle you the way Hajime would.

"Iwa-chan."

"Oikawa? What is it?"

"I fucked up, I'm sorry."

Iwaizumi held his breath as Oikawa explained what happened. He couldn't wrap his head around the unintentional pain Oikawa has given you.

"Iwa, I'm so sorry." Tooru says, making Iwaizumi close his eyes visioning your features crushing at the idea of him having somebody by his side.

Hajimes eyes would never betray you. The only reflection that stayed in his eyes, was the future that was thrown away.

"Oikawa, hey it's okay, I understand." Iwaizumi says with a soft tone to assure Oikawa. Tooru would never intentionally hurt you, he was there to save you. Even if Iwaizumi didn't ask him to take care of you, Oikawa would do everything to bring a smile on your lips. As much love you have to Hajime, its the same amount you have to Oikawa.

"Leaving isn't bad because you're gonna come back with something even better and that's the best version of yourself."

It's your words that he counted on. He believed that he wasn't being selfish, or prideful. You made him believe that finding himself was enough to get him all the medals, the passion, and everything he wanted. So he'd want nothing more than to give thanks to you.

"Iwa."

Oikawa breaks the silence. Iwaizumi looks at him while biting down on his fingers, his heart beating too loudly at the thought of you.

"Why didn't you call her- not even giving her a proper goodbye." Tooru asks with masked anger in his tone. How could he help Hajime when he's blocking him from the truth?

"Iwaizumi. Answer me. For once." Oikawa begs, but once he's met with the silence, he's never been more eager to give in to anger.

"I just- I can't let it happen again, Oikawa. Not to her, not to us."

"Baby, what movie do you want to watch on Saturday? I've seen so many good ones lately." Iwaizumi turns to you with an exhausted expression. You were arranging the condiments in the cabinet, waiting for his response.

"Can't we- reschedule? I-I have something to go to-"

"You can't blow me off for the third time this week, Iwa." You spat, sick of the excuses. Has it really been three times? Iwaizumi questions as he leans on the couch, letting out a sigh. To which is a response you didn't expect to receive.

"I've been busy." He lied, he may not feel it, but there wasn't a single hesitation when he spoke. You memorize his schedules, his after meetings, the excused he's mentioned didn't even bother to make sense. It hurt how he was able to come up so easily, not even thinking about you'd be able to piece them all together.

"Or are you just tired, Iwaizumi?"

You asked rudely. He looks at you before rolling his eyes, covering your heart in bitterness at his pride.

"So what if I am?"

He talked back, hitting you with a bigger wave of emotions. You slammed the door of the cabinet, marching to him each step mixed with rage and pain.

"You're tired? Imagine what I've been feeling, Hajime!" You shout, volume picking up on your tone as this makes Iwaizumi stand up from the couch, not backing down at the power of your voice.

"Clingy? Needy? Pathetic? Tell me, does that sound any different to you?" He said it with so much disgust, strong enough to make you doubt everything you've fought for.

"So you don't give a fuck? Is that what you're so proud of, Iwaizumi? That you're so fucking insensitive?" He felt a tug on his heart when you called him that. It's been so long since he's heard you say it so- normal. As odd as it is, he couldn't hear his name the same again, especially when it came from you.

"Exactly! God I- Y/N. This is why-"

"WHAT IWAIZUMI!"

"This why I'm so fucking tired of you!" He shouted, not only did it create a barrier in your apartment, it brought up your past barrier that he broke down but now he's the cause of it to return.

"You're just- can you even make it on your own without me? It's like if I leave you'd- lose your shit! We need space!" He was fuming with confused anger as you feel your throat give out. You were shaking, your heart was too fast and unsteady, you weren't the same.

"But space is what you've been giving me! Coming home so late? Standing me up? You don't even fucking realize how many dates we missed!" He scoffs before running his fingers through his raven hair. Taking a step towards you, making you stand your ground as you tilt your head to meet with his empty eyes.

This isn't the man who could love you forever and ever after.

"So what! I've got so many things to do apart from dealing with your shit!" You stare back at him, weakened at how your heart couldn't handle it anymore.

You looked down, feeling the sting in your hands when your nails digged into the skin of your palm. He sits down on the couch, drained from the war full of shouting and the damage his heart was in.

Surprisingly, you sat beside him but there was such an intense distance between you.

He turns to you but chills ran up his spine when he sees how you look like you've agreed to everything he's said, making his eyes widen at the foreign feeling.

This is what he was scared of. Failing to find interest in the same routine, to find the energy to continue like he used to. Being worn out by how repetitive things were even when the love you both had was nowhere near boring.

In fact, it was exhilarating. You were both curious to try things together, that's what led you to even owning an apartment together, planning a future, even planning your marriage that was now a blur.

He trembled. Regret, anxiousness, exhaustion. He didn't expect himself to feel this way, especially to you, who he loved completely but felt a certain drift in his heart. He looks away from you as his eyes trail on the picture of you two. He couldn't hold it in his hands to look at how happy he looked, because he isn't the same anymore.

He's lost his way.

"D-did I..lack something?" She asks quietly. He gulps at her question. It was so heavy to him. How you asked him, questioning yourself in this relationship. With anxious hands, he wanted to reach out for you but his efforts were surpassed when he felt a wall between you and him.

"Am I worth.. to keep?"

Please, baby. He begs in his mind for you to stop. He couldn't register how he couldn't make himself speak. He was holding back too much, terrified that he was going to break you more and more with every word he'd toss to you.

"Then this is pointless isn't it?"

You both look at each other, both met with different expressions in your eyes. Iwaizumi could see how tired you were, how he knew you wouldn't be able to look at him the same way before, since he gave up first. While you can see how there wasn't a single lie in his eyes, the downfall was upon you.

No matter the space you give him, there can never be a spark to bring him back.

He bit his lip, facing the truth. Even he knew there isn't any other way.

"I know what you're gonna say, Hajime."

"Princess.. I'm sorry"

"Just go." It was impossible for him to follow your orders when all he wishes is to stay but then again, he's run out of reasons to.

"You gave up, Iwa!" Oikawa shouts, standing up to the boy. Iwaizumi lets his eyes wonder on the floor because he said nothing but the truth.

"There isn't anything I can-"

He's heard enough. You've asked Oikawa many heartbreaking questions. They were all unanswerable, and it pained him he couldn't give you at least one. He was in pain as much as you were. He hated how stupid Iwaizumi was for leaving you and choosing to cower away. He hated how you blamed yourself and slashing your heart because of Iwaizumi.

The tension has set fire to Oikawa and with years of loyalty between the two, Oikawa throws a heavy punch to Iwaizumi, disgusted of his actions.

Iwaizumi, completely at shocked at Oikawas punch, steps back a few times before his blood dropped on his fingers. Oikawa walks straight to Iwaizumi capturing his collar and pulling the boy upwards, nothing but rage consuming the setter.

"Did you love her then? Don't tell me this bullshit that you can't go back to her. Do you even wanna know what she asks me?" Iwaizumi removes Oikawas hands from his shirt, crumpling it in the process. Oikawa lets out a sarcastic laugh as he looks at Hajime.

"Ah, so you know how much shit you put her through? Then maybe you are an asshole but god- Iwa she loves you so much. If that isn't a good enough reason for you to talk to her, then I'll find somebody else for her." Oikawa threatens as Iwaizumi lets out a sob, nothing but regret that he hurt two of the most important people on his life.

"But what if it happens again?"

Iwaizumi asks, it was the only thing that held him back for returning into your arms. He isn't stable enough to return when the fear lingers in his head. What if he falls out of love? What if he gets tired again? Then you'll never want his presence again. He couldn't master up the courage because he too was scared of it.

He will not go through dozens of years just to be apart from you. He's already lost his mind to see you and Oikawa face the tragedy that he left you with. He felt nauseated with himself. How can he promise you forever when it was out of his grasp?

"Why don't you find out?"

It was a simple sentence that left Oikawas lips yet it brought Hajime to tears. It would've been that easy. If he didn't stay with his demons, then maybe you were here to offset his heart. After 2 years, isn't it too late to realize that he's never really ran out of love? It strengthened, but he was so afraid of battling with you like you did, hating how he was the man who shattered your overall being.

"Thank you, Oikawa."

He whispers as Oikawa takes a seat beside him, smiling that he brought the boy to realize the amount of time he's wasted by being surrounded by doubt. Oikawa pats the boys shoulder, sighing in relief that Iwaizumi was back.

"Always."

You swore to avoid your phone the entire day. As much as you wanted to apologize to Oikawa for the outburst, you just wanted a day of silence since your thoughts never give you the chance. Not only did you promise to avoid technology, you decided to avoid people as well, promising to yourself you'd rather stay inside in order to avoid the envy you had for other couples.

So here you are, tucked in your jacket, wrapped in your blanket waking up from a 4 hour nap. You yawned before squinting when you open your phone. It's 8pm and your stomach was nowhere near happy. Slowly standing up, you make your way to the kitchen opening the fridge seeing absolutely no hope to make a meal. Sighing lazily, you decided it'd be best to just buy some food.

After getting ready, you step out of your apartment as you drive to the place where you usually order. You admired how the moon lit your way. Opening your windows you smile when the cold whiff of air instantly surrounded your car. You loved the way your hair flew in the wind while you listened to the song playing.

Once you've finished your bought dinner, you decided to take a turn in your path. Now that it was late at night, you couldn't resist to visit a place you've been missing.

You take in a deep breath as you leaned on the metal bar, loving the way the view still took your breath away. You were face to face with the nightlights and the busy town below you. Not only was it stunning but it was a place to recall some of your favorite moments with him now that you were out of your comfortless of an apartment.

"Sorry for being late, Oikawa was an ass." Iwaizumi excuses himself as he stood beside you leaning on the rod, smiling once he takes in the lights. He turns to you before removing his jacket and placing it on your shoulders, a sweet gesture that had you blushing every time.

You couldn't refuse knowing he would've scolded you. Instead, you stood closer to him before leaning your head on his arm. With his hand, he interlaced his fingers with yours, as your heart flutters. He takes in your hand, placing a gentle kiss on it as you did the same with his hand making him twirl you in satisfaction. You giggle before landing on his chest as he leans down and places his warm hands to your cheeks as he leans in to take your lips with his.

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, reciprocating his kiss. He's given you hundreds of kisses before, how is this any different than the rest?

He pulls away, as your foreheads touch as you both painted a smile on your lips, feeling a slight tickle to it with how flustered you both were.

"I love you so much." He whispers, the first time he's ever let the three words slip from his mouth. Your hands make their way his hair, grabbing it lightly before nodding happily.

"I love you more, my Hajime."

Who knew that just by saying those three words, it was enough for you to believe in an ever after with him? Maybe you were wrong to fall for it even though he gave you a fragment of your so called forever.

You glanced beside you to see a vacant spot and you let out a disappointed sigh. You take in the sight of your fingers, missing the way it perfectly fit in his and how he held it with so much care, giving you an idea that he'd never let you go. Unfortunately he broke this bond but you still longed for his skin to be at contact with yours again.

You sat down placing your hand on the bench as you close your eyes leaning your back on it. You felt a shift of weight beside you, someone finally accompanying you in this lonely night but you've caught on the familiar scent of the stranger and you let the name slid off your tongue.

"Hajime."

He turns to you in shock that you knew it was him but you open your eyes, turning your head to be faced with the man you've been longing to see in two years. He looked the same, the same face who clouded your dreams. He was certainly your Hajime, the pretty boy you've adored since you were in high school.

Happy anniversary. You silently greet each other. How bittersweet, isn't it? What was meant to be your 6th year, turned into 2 years of avoiding each other.

And as you took in Iwaizumis appearance, he did the same with you. Loving the way your features clicked in his memory instantly. Was it even possible for you to be even more beautiful? To Iwaizumi, it was. He absolutely missed you, but why was his heart nervous?

What do I do? He asks himself. Small talk isn't what you deserved. God- you deserve so much more. Endless hours of talking, his embrace, his love, that's what you missed. He was willing to love you with everything he's got, now knowing he'll never run out of it because he isn't scared anymore.

"This isn't a dream is it?" You asked as you turn back to the sky counting the stars that was above you. He was glad you broke the silence, and he appreciated how there wasn't the same tension before. It felt so- serene and unique. Something he wishes it'd be a good sign for the both of you.

"I can't believe it either." He exclaims making you smile. You couldn't ask him how he's doing, not wanting to drag on a conversation you've waited years for to happen, you couldn't let it be bland and meaningless.

"We were something weren't we?" You asked with a soft smile. Iwaizumi chuckles beside you, as he sits closer to you. The cold air swirling around you two as well as the car noised filling in the comforting silence.

"God, I miss what that's like." Iwaizumi answers as you look at him. You looked down on the floor with tears appearing again, the same as Iwaizumi. You were both craving to hold each other but it didn't sit right to just rush into each other knowing there's so much to unpack.

Maybe it was a bit unexpected that you'd face him this way. Echoing through your ears was the conversation between you and Tooru about how the time never came. Now, you weren't even close to being prepared. You both imagined a proper conversation wherein you two would agree to meet up and talk things out. Yet subconsciously, you came to the same place at the same time not even knowing you'd meet. You lacked strength to bundle the words that you've always wanted to say to him and he felt the same way.

The last time you sat next to each other, that was when you parted. Now, back in the same position, it felt overwhelming. Seeing each other for the first time, both had you shocked and careful of your words. You wanted to scream how much you loved him, and he wanted to hold you in his arms to wash away the bleeding of your heart.

You loved how the universe made you two meet. It was quite painful that it had to be the place where you've shared so many memories with him. You didn't know if this was a blessing in disguise but you couldn't complain when the love of your life was here, beside you.

When he saw you, he felt like the sun shined above him like it did every morning. Where he had an angel to wake up next to, when he couldn't spot a single imperfection in your skin when the sun danced in your beauty.

And you've finally remembered the way his touch would bring you the assurance without words. His unexpected kisses, his sweet embrace, his smile that makes your heart run a marathon.

You're finally here. You both think, your hearts synced in how you've waited for this moment.

With your hand on the bench, he places his hand on top of yours, feeling like it was too fragile to hold but you didn't pull away. He takes in your features in the moonlight as his heart picks up the pace at the feeling that washes over him.

There isn't a barrier anymore.

Having the chance to hold your hand like this, he'll never take this for granted again. His everything, back in his touch, god how lucky he was. Remembering Oikawas words, one thing was clear to Iwaizumi, and that was the fact that he couldn't afford to have another hiccup in your relationship.

"We really fucked up this time." Iwaizumi comments making the both of you chuckle as he intertwines your hands with his, smiles on either your faces now that you've finally found the path to each other.

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acciocriativity · 3 years

Text

Spark of Happiness II ||Harry Potter

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: You already went through a lot in your life, but while dating Draco the world you knew has changed dramatically and it seems like it couldn’t get any worse...

Word Count: 2,7k

A/N: I just discovered that tumblr has a limit of words per post, that’s why I had to make a part two of this when it wasn’t supposed to be that way but I hope you’ll like it anyway.

Part I

I found myself in a sort of tunnel between nothing and everything, my body was molded several times like a play dough but in the hands of the universe, the only solid thing I had was Draco's cold hand, which I held tighter to help me through the pain. I also lost my sense of time, it seemed like an eternity in there, it never had an end.

Until the moment I felt my feet touch the ground again and my legs gave out, if it wasn't for Draco I would have fallen. I could hear his voice but could not make out any sound coming out of his mouth for a few seconds.

"Draco, I'm fine...just a little dizzy”, I clutched the sleeve of his shirt and I could see the concern in his eyes.

Every corner meticulously tidied and cleaned, worthy of a family like the Malfoy's, the room was particularly dark and cold, as if no one really spent time there, the only thing that decoration passed to me was anguish.

His arms still firmly around my waist, his face analyzing mine carefully.

"Are you sure you're alright?", he asked softly and I just nodded my head slightly and leaned on his shoulder, closing my eyes a little.

I hadn't realized that we were still in the presence of his parents, who watched the scene with sharp eyes but soon disappeared inside the house.

We were silent until a loud noise next to us made me lift my head and moved away from Draco, it was just a house elf carrying our bags upstairs.

"We can pick it up later, let's at least get some breakfast. It's still early”, he held my hand and I understood the meaning in his words.

"If you're sure, that's fine by me", I didn't have the guts to speak in a normal tone, as if the house was being watched constantly.

He called out to the elf, who came running downstairs eager to please his master and immediately followed the order to prepare breakfast for us. I couldn't relax even if his presence helped me, I was wondering if we could escape so easily, if they would just leave us alone.

Throughout breakfast I was tense in my chair, we both were and it would only end when we got out of there at once and for all.

We left the dining room to get our things a minute after we finished breakfast, since neither Narcisa nor Lucius had shown up again, with luck we could leave without either of them noticing for quite some time.

"Narcisa, we need to ... oh Draco and ...who is that?", I took a deep breath having to contain my startle when caught in the act.

The woman didn't seem impressed and walked over to us with a strange smile on her face. I had a few seconds to absorb her features but it was possible to feel a bad aura coming from her.

"Aren't you going to answer me? I'd forgotten, has your age of bringing girls home already came?", the cynical, amused smile didn't leave her lips.

"It is none of your business Bellatrix, as you see, my mother is not here", his direct and even rude tone caught me off guard, I had never seen him talk like that before.

"Oh, how cute, you're showing your claws to defend your girlfriend but only because you're Narcisa's son, don't ever think you can speak in that tone with me."

Before she could say anything else, other voices erupted out of nowhere, more people began to appear, paying less attention to our presence as the room became more crowded.

"Ah, it's time.You have to leave little girl, my lord doesn't like intruders", she said lord with a glint in her eyes that made me sick.

"Come on, I'll take you outside...", he saw the opportunity and immediately took my hand so we could get out of there.

"This girl looks so much like you Avery", a male voice spoke and in a few seconds all eyes were on me, analyzing me from head to toe.

It didn't take me long to recognize this Avery guy, he had the most shocked expression among all the people there.

The same color hair was the most I could tell from the distance, we all stood in silence not knowing what to say.

"Did you really have a daughter, you bastard?", another man said before punching him lightly on the shoulder.

"It's impossible, my parents don't have that last name and neither do I. Excuse me...I shouldn't be here", I squeezed Draco's hand tighter and made my way through the death eaters.

My heart was beating so fast that I was afraid they would be able to hear but no one stopped us from leaving since we really shouldn't be there, or at least, not me.

How long would we have before you-know-who arrived? I couldn't think about it, as soon as we reached the door we started to run, and run and run some more until our feet hurt. There was no time to breathe, to think, to stop.

We needed to get to the city, we needed a fireplace, we needed to get to my house but how? No one around would be kind enough to help us, so we walked a long way until we were far enough to the point that no one would recognize Draco.

We end up in a simple part of town, the houses were smaller and further apart from each other and all were on the side of the road. Obviously we were exposed there and there was nowhere else to go, so we had to take our chance.

"Let's knock on one of the doors, we can't walk all the way to London", I said standing in front of a little white house with a large and well-kept garden. "Someone who takes such good care of plants can't be bad, right?"

"Let's hope we don't pick the only bad HufflePuff in history", he said and I might have laughed if my worry wasn't so real.

We walked side by side, taking our last steps before our legs gave out from exhaustion. "Be at home, please be home...", I crossed my fingers as soon as he knocked on the door.

The door was opened by a little blonde girl, she just stuck her head out the door to see who was there, she gave a little scream and closed the door hard as soon as she saw us. We looked at each other without understanding what the hell had happened until another voice was heard inside the house, this time a lady opened the door and held it open.

"I'm sorry, do you guys need help?", she didn't have to look us up and down to guess that, we were soaked.

"Yes we do, we need to get to my house but it is too far, perhaps you have a flu net in your house, Mrs?", I spoke up as Draco was making too much effort even to stand upright.

"Yes I do, come on in, you guys can sit for a bit too. You look like you ran a marathon", she made room and we could see inside the house.

The furniture made of wood was modest but beautiful, the living room was well decorated and the wallpapers went in shades of yellow and blue. Draco seemed more impressed than I was since I'm used to this style, but contrary to what anyone would imagine the expression on his face was not bad at any time.

"Your house is beautiful Mrs., we don't want to trespass on your kindness but could we get a glass of water?", his voice even huskier than usual rang through the walls of the house and I was truly surprised and somewhat proud of his attitude.

"Sure, I'll get it, you can sit on the couch. You guys need it", I didn't wait a second to sit down and for Merlin's sake, I could spend the rest of eternity there.

"Forget about everything, I never want to get up from here again", he said almost crying with happiness and I had to laugh, I laughed a lot.

"Sorry love but it's really funny, you have to admit", I said, still laughing softly when the lady came back with two glasses full of water.

We drank as if we had spent 40 days in the desert and my feeling was not so different from that.

"I can bring you another glass if you like. I just don't understand how two teenagers could have ended up in this condition...", she looked genuinely concerned, we were very lucky.

"We had a problem, a huge problem and we need to get home as soon as possible", he said with certainty in his voice but made no effort to actually get up.

"Thank you very much, ma'am, we can’t thank you enough for helping us", I said with a smile right after I stood up, even though my whole body contested this decision.

"It was a pleasure dear, I hope you get home well. The flu powder is by the fireplace, go ahead", she smiled gently and took a step to the side.

I went ahead while Draco still seemed to muster the courage to stand up. The stone fireplace was small, there was no way we could both go at once.

"Draco, do you remember the address I told you about?", I turned back to look at him and he was still in the same position but now massaging his own foot, "Draco? Will you hurry up? I'll guarantee you a massage from an expert after we're home," and as if they were the magic words, he was at my side ready to leave in a flash.

I took a deep breath and we could hear a giggle coming from behind the couch, only the girl's big, bright eyes were in view but as soon as she realized she was caught she went back into hiding.

"Goodbye madam and goodbye little one,"I took a handful of the powder and walked into the fireplace. "Don't forget the correct pronunciation", I said to the blonde before throwing the powder on the floor and speaking my address out loud.

The last thing I saw were two pairs of blue eyes staring at me before I disappeared and the first thing I saw when I got home were my clothes covered with scoot and the angry voices of my parents came soon enough.

"What's all this racket! Y/N, you should be at Hogwarts right now. Now you're breaking school rules?", my mother said as soon as she arrived in the living room.

She was wearing an apron over the comfortable clothes she wore indoors, then I noticed the delicious smell coming from the kitchen, it was already lunchtime.

Before I could reply, I was pushed forward and almost lost my balance and fell on the small coffee table.

"Honey, what's happening here? Y/n? Draco? Get out of there right now, why did you come home early?", my dad was more confused than angry and I was even more relieved that they were both okay.

Even though I had a lot of explaining to do, I could only run to hug them without caring that I was getting them or even the floor of the room dirty.

Too many emotions consumed me, I had put too many people I cared about in danger and now no one would be truly safe there.

"Don't worry about it, Dumbledore let us leave early for Christmas but so much has happened, I'm so sorry, we're not safe here", my tears flowed without me realizing it, slowly the despair and fear that I had held all this time was consuming me.

"Love, come sit down, we are all fine and whatever has happened, we will work it out. Draco, sit here too.You both look so pale", the woman's angry voice turned to a honey-sweet tone but if I had looked into her eyes, I could have seen the concern in them.

"I'll get some tea, you need to calm down and rest, then we'll talk about whatever happened on the way here", my father got up and hurried out of the room after my favorite tea.

My mom kept hugging me from the right side, her presence was always enough to bring me comfort. Draco had sat down on my left side and the first thing I did was to intertwine his hand in mine and squeeze it lightly, he did it back to reassure me.

The conversation was postponed until after lunch, since we were too hungry to wait and too dirty, according to my mother.

We both took a shower and Draco wore some of my father's clothes as they would fit perfectly, then we went to eat and afterwards, in a calmer mood, we explained what had happened.

The look of horror on my parents' faces had broken my heart, I never told them anything about this dark side of the Wizarding World, especially when I was so close to it all. I wanted to protect them but now I had no other choice.

"I'm sorry I got you into this situation Mr. and Mrs. Lewis, I can stay somewhere else, I can think of a plan and fix it", he said this several times but neither I nor my parents agreed.

"This is absurd, no matter what happens. You're here as part of the family, we'll figure it out if we have to move out of here", my father interrupted for the second time my boyfriend tried to apologize, even though it wasn't his fault.

The conversation didn't last long because we soon came to the conclusion that the best idea would be to send a letter to Dumbledore, explain what happened and ask for help because no other wizard in the world could be better.

"Rest for a while now, as soon as we get an answer we will call you", my mother said from the kitchen. I tried to help with the dishes but she insisted that we deserved a longer rest.

Then I took Draco to my room, I left the door open because it would be better not to leave room for complaints from my father.

The decoration of the room was in several shades of blue, which was always my favorite color, blue from the walls to my closet.

"Let's get some sleep, I'm sure from now on our life won't be easy but it will be better than it was before", I said and lay down on the bed, leaving enough room.

His body snuggled up next to me in silence but I could almost hear the amount of negative thoughts going through his head.

"Hey, you can stop that. We deserve to be a little hopeful and even more so, rest. So you can tell your little head to think about other things, okay?", I put my arm around him and felt him do the same to me, until we were face to face.

"How could you possibly know what I'm thinking? You're horrible with silent spells", he said with a sly smile that opened into a satisfied grin at the sight of my angry expression.

"First of all, I know you very well so of course I know about your pessimism and second, I'm going to have a lot of time to learn and it's not like you're great so shut up", I replied as he laughed but soon, I was the one laughing after he fell off the bed, "Oops, sorry, it was just a little accident”.

That was the first night that he had more than 5 hours of sleep because we were truly safe with Dumbledore's protection. Until Christmas we stayed at my house and we had more truly happy moments in a span of 3 days than in the whole year and all I wished for was more of that forever.

Harry Potter Masterlist

#harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley #harry potter x reader #harry potter #george weasley #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy angst #george weasley x reader #masterlist #draco malfoy masterlist

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newmih · 3 years

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“I never thought I'd be so happy to find you”

Newt x reader female! minho x reader (friends)

Bonne lecture!

Y/N had been a runner for some time. However, she was still blaming herself for somehow forcing Minho's hand to become one. It was tiring, dangerous and as if that wasn't enough, she was away from Newt all day long.

Granted, they weren't dating, but who could blame her for finding the blonde attractive. Probably Gally... While she was in her thoughts, a noise woke her up: "Beep... Beep... Beep...". Her watch had just sounded 6:45 pm. It took Y/N a few seconds to realize the seriousness of the situation. The doors would close in a little more than 10 minutes. She then began to accelerate the step. She didn't want to get stuck and have to spend a night inside the labyrinth when no one had managed to come back, finally in one piece. They had all been killed by grievers . At the mere thought of them, a shiver ran down her back, due to her disgust and fear of monsters but also a sign of a bad omen.

There were only three corridors left to reach the exit when Y/N heard a noise. One of the most horrible sounds a runner has to hear while inside the walls. The doors were already starting to close. She started to run even faster, but because of a root that was lying around, she stumbled, lost her balance and fell. Still with the same eagerness, she got up. No time to insult her, she would do it another day. She finally got there, the last straight line, she put all the strength she had left.

"Y/N!!! Come on you gotta hurry! -Fucking Y/N we can't lose you!" The shouts of his friends encouraged him to continue.

When she finally arrived at the doors, the opening was already too narrow. If she was going to die, Y/N would rather do it fighting than being crushed. The last thing she saw between the doors was Newt's tearful face. It was the first time she'd seen him cry and she prayed it wouldn't be the last, though she much preferred it when he laughed.

The young woman sat down on the ground, tired from her run, and closed her eyes. She didn't open them again when she heard a scream from a non-human thing or when she heard metallic footsteps. She only opened them again when she heard someone shouting her name. She stood there in silence until she heard that cry again.

"Y/N! I don't know if you can hear me but if you can hear me run! Run and don't look back! And don't forget, run or die! "

Minho was always there to reassure her. The glader got up with difficulty and walked, she walked until she lost it. Suddenly, her shoe remained stuck to the ground and in spite of all the force that she put there, she did not succeed in removing it. She wondered then about the origin of what could stick her like that and had her answer by hearing another scream. Much more powerful and strong than the last time. It was getting closer. When she finally heard it in the next hallway, she tried to find a hiding place by looking around. Walls, walls, vines and more walls surrounded her. Her gaze returned to the vines and an idea crossed her mind. It was enough that she hid behind it while waiting for the griever to pass. She tried again to untie her shoe but it was a waste of time. Only one choice was offered to her now, well two: either she remained there and died, or she removed her foot of her shoe and had a little more chances to leave. After reflection, the second option was the best. However, as soon as she removed her foot from her boot, she realized that this was also a very bad idea. She retched violently because of the smell. But there was no time to vomit, she rushed to her hiding place and entered just as the monster was passing by in the hallway.From where she was, she saw its paws passing in front of her.

She had to find a better hiding place and for that, she had to get out of there. She took her courage in both hands and got up. She approached her shoe and pulled with all her strength. She fell on her buttocks but managed to get it off. She was about to burst with joy when she felt a liquid running down her hair. She looked up to see a clawed man between the walls. She stood up in a panic and ran to escape the beast that was already on her tail. As she turned to the right, she tried to put her shoe back on, which she was still holding in her hand. Bad idea, she fell back on the ground and took the opportunity to put her shoes on.

When she finished, and stood up, she realized that she could only use a dead end because a second griever had joined the chase. She tried not to show her fear. This was what the creators wanted so she wasn't going to give them the satisfaction. The creatures had slowed their steps as if to taunt her. Trying everything, she began to climb the wall. The ivy burned her hands, but she kept going anyway. The wall was actually a low wall and she reached the top faster than she thought possible.

Y/N then prayed that the griever could not climb the walls, but apparently his prayers were not heard as the first one began to follow her. When she saw this, she turned around and despite her fatigue ran until she almost fell. She was now in front of an abyss and could not turn back. She could already see her life passing by when an idea came to her mind. Taking what little courage she had left, she turned to her attackers and shouted: "Hey, you grey scrap heap! Come over here if you're looking for me!"

And as if they had a conscience and had heard the young woman's call, they moved so fast that Y/N was at first surprised and then a smile settled on her face. Before one of them could touch her, she threw herself to the side, burning a rib as she passed. They had no time to brake and fell. She dragged herself to the edge to see their bodies turning into dots and then disappearing from her sight.

Finally, she turned on her back with a grimace and rested at last. After a few minutes of silence, she shouted a cry of joy. She had succeeded. The sun was starting to rise and she was still alive.

...

Y/N may have managed to survive the night, but she was terribly tired. Only fear had kept her going until now. Yet she still had to find her way back. She was hungry, she felt dirty, she was hurt and she needed to hear his voice. She started walking again, dragging her feet. She didn't even know what she was doing, she was completely lost. She had gone through the labyrinth in length and breadth, it had almost no secret for her. She kept on going anyway, the terror of having to spend a night inside again pushed her to continue.

She didn't know how long she had been looking for the glade, but it seemed like hours. Y/N was beginning to lose hope that she would ever find her way out when she recognized the root that had caused her to fall the day before. She breathed a sigh of relief, thanked the heavens and then, true to her promise, pointed her fingers at the plant. She shouted all sorts of insults for having made her spend the night in the labyrinth. She was so concentrated on her task that she did not hear the footsteps behind her.

"Y/N?"

The young woman was startled and turned around quickly to find Minho a few steps away from her. She ran towards him and jumped into his arms, so happy was she to find her friend.

"My god! You're fucking alive! You're still alive! You did it! We thought we would never see you again! How did you do? -I ran like you shouted at me last night. Thank you because I think I would have died without your wise counsel. Although you didn't exactly make me feel better.

He smiled and put her back down on the floor.

"Come on, let's get back to the glade. We definitely need to break the news to the others."

Y/N followed him without answering but suddenly she collapsed to the ground. Tiredness got the better of her and the knowledge that everything would be all right for her finished her off. Minho's worried face appeared above her and without her having to say a word, he stooped down and took her in his arms.

The rest of the way went on without a word. Y/N had fallen asleep. Once they arrived at the glade, the Asian went directly to the infirmary, ignoring the questions of the other gladers.

[...]

When Y/N finally woke up, she found a blond man drooling on her hand. She thought the scene was cute and wanted to stay there and watch him for a while longer, but he finally woke up. The young woman saw at first a gleam of incomprehension passing in the glance of Newt then he made a grimace while rubbing his face. This one took advantage of it to wipe discreetly the hands on the sheet.

He finally looked her in the eye and asked:

"How do you feel? -Like someone who just spent a night awake. You know the grievers aren't so bad, I could almost adopt one, almost. "

The desperate look that her friend gave her was understandable. By dint of hanging out with Minho, he had ended up rubbing off on her. The blond repeated his question with a more serious and worried tone. Then Y/N decided to tell him the truth.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to be back on the block." Then taking courage she added: "To find you."

His last sentence took Newt unprepared and he turned into a fish. His head made her laugh which caused him a violent coughing fit. Pulling himself together quickly, he brought a glass of water to the young woman.

"You must have caught a cold or something. It gets cold at night in the maze." He paused and Y/N thought for a moment that he was going to dodge the conversation that was to take place. "I'm glad to have you back too. The truth is, I don' t know if I would have survived losing you."

This time, it was Y/N's turn to be speechless. She would never have believed that Newt cared so much about her. Newt continued to speak without noticing that the girl he loved had come closer to him. After having understood that nobody was immortal and that death could touch anyone at any time, he had decided to confess everything to the one of his heart.

"... I saw you and I thought you were beautiful right away. I wanted to get closer to you but Minho was already there. You became very close very quickly so I thought... I thought you were dating. Because you are both my friends, I didn't dare to tell you. It would have been really horrible of me to..." His tirade was cut off by a pair of soft lips on hers. Surprised at first, he didn't respond immediately, but eventually, he let go.

The two finally broke apart due to the lack of air and Newt rested his forehead on Y/N's. They smiled at each other. They smiled at each other. The silence was comfortable, no one needed to talk, that was it. They loved each other and they would never let go.

#the maze runner #x reader #le labyrinthe #the death cure #le remède mortel #la terre brûlée #the scorch trials #thomas #newt #minho #alby #gally #chuck #paige #teresa

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iammarylastar · 3 years

Text

9. FAREWELL

"So, you're leaving without saying goodbye?"

She said, her voice like a ghost.

Shit.

Cal leaned his hand on the door frame, his forehead followed and he closed his eyes. He could feel Jess trembling behind his back, he could foresee her face soaked in tears, her sobs stuck in her chest.

Shit.

Leaving her was the hardest thing he had ever done, he doubted he could gather the strength to walk out the door, but now she was awake, crying, he knew it would be impossible.

Yet, he had to.

"Chris?" She begged.

He had planned everything, every little detail, like he already had, to break Oyster out.

He got all his stuff ready: a car fueled up, the maps with all the secondary roads highlighted, 4 different options to cross the Canadian border. His backpack, enough military rations to survive for 2 weeks, in case he'd have to ditch the car and cover the distance by foot. A compass. An extra pair of trekking shoes, just in case. Water. Lighter. Headlamp. Emergency kit. US dollars. Canadian dollars.

No phone.

No pics, not even one of Jessica. He wouldn't risk to get caught and have her involved. Beside it would be too painful to look at her beautiful face. Dealing with her memory would be hard enough.

But he had no choice. More than 3 years he hadn't see his brother. 3 fucking long years he hadn't heard his voice. Teddy, his little brother, the reason he had kept living after their mom died, the one he had fought for. And kept fighting for.

He'd all planned in his head, playing every scenario again and again at night, all those sleepless nights, Jess cuddled against his chest. Looking blankly at the ceiling, on the hunt for what could happen, what could turn wrong, and come what may: keep walking.

Until he reaches Lac-Sainte-Marie, Quebec, 260 miles from here. Until he meets his brother again.

"Chris!" She yelped, like she was drowning.

For a millisecond, he thought he could just give up: forget his little ass of a brother, forget his oath to his mother, forget his responsibilities, drop on his knees and beg Jess to marry him, give her 3 kids, get a pet and live happily ever after. Why not? He deserved a little of happiness, didn't he?

"What is happening?" she whispered, her voice torn by sobs, like stabs in his back.

What the fuck was happening, good question. He was happening. That fucking deceiving Cal was freaking out and ruining everything again. Like it was meant to be.

Like he was meant to screw up every chance of happiness.

"I have to see him. Jess, he got back in touch with me. Those postcards. There must be a reason." He said under his breath, not daring to glance at her.

"Chris, you're still in probation! A single step out of the State and you're in parole violation! You're going to get caught and thrown into jail again!" She knew this argument wouldn't work with him, but she was a lawyer, well almost, she had to plead for her case.

"I know..." Chris whispered. The next words would be excruciating to pronounce.

"That's why I won't come back..."

"Noooo!" She totally broke down.

As he listened to her heart shattering into pieces, taking his own heart down, he couldn't help thinking about time.

It took her days to tame his fears, weeks to heal him for his trauma, months to forge deep, trustful ties between their hearts.

Ties they both thought were unbreakable.

And as it took a heartbeat to fall in love with her, he'd been quick to break her heart.

Now he was running out of time. With her. For Oyster. Fuck.

"At least wait for your probation period to be over! You'll be a free man and you could go wherever you want!" She begged.

Like he didn't know. Like he hadn't spent the last days counting how many days it would take to be reunited. Like he hadn't thought of it from top to bottom. Like he hadn't been obsessed and torn about that fucking choice he had to make.

"Three more years! Jess, I can't leave him alone for 3 more fucking years! He needs me!" He let his anger flow out of his chest.

"What about me????" She thundered, gripping her nightie where her heart ached, then pointing a furious index finger out.

"He's not a kid anymore! He made his choice! You don't owe him anything anymore! When are you going to start thinking about yourself? About us?"

Touché.

Cal wavered at her words. The more she spoke, the more his determination weakened. He had no choice but cling to his same old song.

"I'm his legal guardian, I promised mom I'd take care of him. I can't break my oath. Not again..."

It would have been easier if Chris was the selfish type. But he didn't choose Marine corps and law enforcement by mistake. He was a man of principle, loyal, honest, trustful. A man with Semper Fidelis inked in his flesh forever.

"Chris!!" Jess was burning with rage and desperation. She was fed up with his sempiternal lame excuses.

She would have slapped his face full force if she could have moved, again and again until he got it, but violence never fixed anything, she was dead certain of this.

Chris’ childhood to adulthood, his former job in the Marine corps, his time in jail, his whole damn life had been nothing but violence, he deserved better from her.

She breathed in and out slowly to calm her nerves down and regain control of her thoughts.

Give him what he needs, that's the only way...

"You're strong Chris. You're a good man! Why can't you see it?"

Cal shook his head, tears threatening again behind his lids.

"I failed. I failed to keep my mom alive. I failed to protect my brother. To serve my country... To make you happy. I don't deserve you..."

"When are you going to stop punishing yourself for things, you're not responsible for? Jesus, your mom died, who's to blame? Not you! You struggled to provide for your brother though you were barely an adult, Chris, you did your best! Oyster made some bad choices, his choices, he fucked up but it was not your fault!"

Gone his sweetheart of a girlfriend, he was facing a new, fierce, unstoppable soldier ready for anything for her love.

Anything. Maybe, even ready to throw everything away for him.

Cal slowly extended his hand to a trembling Jess. This gesture was a dangerous step back, he had promised himself not to touch her, not to smell her nor to get too close. No way he could leave this place without her if their hands were linked.

Jess nearly jumped forward to take it, intertwined her fingers so tightly with his, their knuckles turned white. She closed her other hand over their clasped ones, then pulled them against her cheek, nuzzling against the slightest piece of his skin she could.

The contact of her skin against his made him jolt. His plea slipped through his lips before his brain realized their impact.

"Come with me. I hate to put that on you but... Jess, come with me. I don't want to lose you..."

His words were like slaps in her face. Her jaw dropped down and the look she threw at him slapped him back.

Shit.

She thought she had won. She thought he had heard her words. She thought he would stay. Why would he have offered his hand otherwise?

"Wh..? But... Cal, what are you doing?"

"Come with me Jessica. Let's start a new life in Canada. I love you. I love you!"

His turn to wrap his hand around hers and pull her closer, so his gaze pierced hers, his taut body hovering over her. This could fix everything.

Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!!

Jessica froze in shock, her pupils widened. She would have left all she had behind to follow him. The solution was easy: just go with him!

Just go with him, and become an outlaw. Say goodbye to your family, your career, your dreams, your life. On the run forever with the man she loved. With no future but hiding and lying.

"And you saved your first 'I love you' for the day you leave me..." Jess whispered under her breath, defeated. He killed her hope the second before, and kept doing an excellent job to trample on her heart.

Her whole body slumped down; Cal had to tighten his grip on her hands to get her upright.

Her pale complexion and her trembling voice made her look like a ghost.

"No. I can't. You can't... do that. You can't drag me into a runaway and make me a fugitive. I... I'm... My family is here, my career is here, my life is here... with you!

If you really love me, STAY!"

Chris wobbled, his knees weak under him. She was right, he knew it. He was wrong, doing all wrong, as he always had done. Jessica saw her chance in his hesitation, and played her last card. Faithfulness, Chris' obsession.

"That's not what you promised me. Chris, you promised me..." she burst into tears again, clinging onto him like he was a lifeline. Their love was like the Titanic, they thought it beautiful and in submersible, but it was irremediably sinking in the middle of nowhere and will end up broken shipwreck.

Hold on Rose, you have a chance.

Sorry Jack, you're screwed.

Shit.

He promised her, that day he talked his heart out, in the wee hours of a beautiful day, lying in bed, slowly brushing her delicate face with his fingertips. That day he told her about his plans for the future, their future. Openly daydreaming of his will to marry her, build her a house, have kids with her, three he said, if she agreed. Plus, a dog. One day, he promised, when she would graduate and he would have a better job.

He solemnly promised her to make her happy, happy ever after.

"You deserve to be happy, Chris. We've been so happy together. For fuck sake, why couldn't we just be happy?"

Because happiness is not meant for me.

"Jess, I miss him so much... I have no choice."

"There's always a choice... Let me help!" She begged a last time, squeezing his hands even tightly.

Chris closed his eyes, his sigh shaky through his tight throat. Just do it. Say it.

Now.

"No. Not this time... Let me go, Jess, please..." Chris grudgingly untied their fingers but Jess kept gripping at him, his wrists, his arms, his hoodie. He patiently unhooked each of her attempt, gently but firmly holding her wrists together.

It was so hard, Jesus, to see her face, desperate and drowned in tears, to hear a plea, to hurt her so deeply. But it had to be done. Like ripping off a band-aid. Just do it.

"No, no, no, no, Chris, please, nooo!" She begged, she would have given anything, everything to have him think, find another way, change his fucking mind. To have him stay. Choose her.

All her expectations vanished when Cal took her hands in his large palms, bent to kiss them but just leant his forehead on them, shaken by both their sobs and cries. He knew he couldn't leave if his lips touched her skin again. She knew it too.

Slowly, too slowly, he extended his arms until her fists laid on her chest, her fingers writhing in pain, and stepped back. Unable to look a last time in her eyes, Cal turned his heels and grabbed the doorknob.

"What if I'm pregnant?"

He froze, like punched in his guts.

"What?" His world collapsed. He had all the scenarios figured out, even the worst, but not this one.

He had made love to her earlier that night, knowing it'd be the last time. He made it last long, savoring each second with her, kissing each piece of her body, learning each of her curves by heart with his fingertips. He made it sensual, passionate, beautiful. He had given her all, all of him.

He had laid on his back for hours, his love cuddled on his side, her arms around his chest, like to keep him from running away. Like she felt it.

He had stayed like this forever, staring at the ceiling, listening to her deep breathing, feeling her, smelling her, until he was drunk from her.

"I said, what if I'm pregnant." She stated again, interrupting his thoughts.

"Are you?" He blankly asked.

She might be. From tonight.

She could be. They've been careless for a couple of weeks, their desire so strong they skipped to put a condom on. They both silently agreed, since they had a talk about it: they wanted to spend their lives together and grow a family, one day or another...

Jess had tried the pill, but it hadn't fit her. She tried 3 different brands but every time something went wrong. Cal hated seeing her with cramps or moody and IUD was a big no no due to her young age, so he decided to take the responsibility of the birth control, and simply pulled out at the right time.

Which was, according to Jess, like a firework without the final. Several times, half of the time in fact, she trapped Cal between her legs so he came inside of her. She found it so sexy and powerful.

Sexy but likely give rise to a baby.

Their baby. His.

"You won't stay for me. Would you stay for your child?"

Bitch. She knew how push his button, where it hurt the most. Given what he was doing to her, it was fair.

His guts twisted painfully and nausea invaded his throat at the thought. His deepest nightmare resurfaced: a kid with no father to take care of them, ruffle their hair, tickle them until they're breathless from laughing, play football with them, hug them tight when they're scared or sad. A kid with no dad to love them. A kid like he'd been, grown up before his childhood even had started.

A missing father. That was what he would become if he left now. The worst of the worst. A man he promised himself to never be. Fucking never hurt someone like he'd been hurt.

He unsuccessfully was trying to clear his mind from sadness and anger to redo his math and remember when was her last period. Calculate the odds of a pregnancy. Rate his chance to stay.

Zero.

He sucked. He wasn’t worth anything.

Maybe living was the best he could do to save this child from himself. He was no better father than his own, unable to make a good decision.

Chris dropped his head, his hands tightened in fists, his eyes closed in a frown. He stopped breathing for a long time, until he made his decision.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, grabbing the doorknob.

That was it. She couldn't go, he couldn't stay. I guess that's just the way the story goes.

Such a waste.

Chris pushed the door open, wiped his tears with his sleeve and walked out, without a last glance at her.

#jai courtney #semper fi #fanfiction

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vanchlo · 3 years

Text

The Partner / Chapter Eleven, "The Abyss"

Word Count: 5.4k / Story Masterlist / Read The Assistant / Read on Wattpad / Song: / It's Not The Same Anymore by Rex Orange County (click to listen) / Warning: Sensitive and upsetting topics, such as death, grief, and miscarriage

"The day after my baby died what shocked me the most was the sun still rose, and the post still slipped through my mailbox, and I still got thirsty, and the birds still sang, and the traffic lights still changed colour . . but my world had stopped, my planet had stopped spinning."

- Zoe Clark-Coates

I tried to stay there, beside him and with him, but I couldn't. The stillness had returned and I was sucked into its world once again, watching time pass in front of me. Waking up was the hardest, knowing what I had come back to and not wanting to move, let alone leave the bed. It wasn't ours and I was glad for it, if it was the only thing that made me feel a hint of that. I couldn't imagine lying in ours and my recommended bed rest was welcomed.

I didn't try to fight it, the emptiness that swam around inside of me, silencing my ears to Harry's words. His questions and pleas for me to eat. Somehow, I sat there and I did, sometimes. I ate and laid on the couch, watching Friends with him. He didn't think I noticed, but I did. I saw how he skipped the episodes where Phoebe was pregnant as we watched the show through for what must be the third time. I wasn't asleep like he thought when he tearfully told my dad over the phone what had happened. His sister. My brother. I pretended again when Skye stopped over with food that Harry took quietly, and when Myles did too. I listened in the bedroom or on the couch, my eyes closed, as he cried to his mom and then his best friend. I was there listening, but I wasn't there feeling. I couldn't.

I'd lost count of how many times I'd blinked and Harry had been talking to me, going on to repeat himself for what- the fourth time? How was I supposed to know?, I think this time as he stares back at me, a not so secret sigh following his words.

"I'm sorry. What'd you say?"

"I said you need to eat," he repeats, nodding his head towards the plate of food I hadn't touched. I should've known. Despite it being our favorite tacos from Pedro's, I couldn't even stomach the idea of actually eating it. Sighing, he's shaking his head as he dumps another helping of their chips onto his plate. "I don't want to argue about this again. You need to eat, love."

"Neither do I, but I'm not hungry, Harry."

Snapping the lid back onto the nacho cheese sauce, his head is shaking back and forth. Watching his movements, he habitually bites at his bottom lip, seemingly coaxing the words back in.

"I didn't push when you weren't hungry at breakfast, but it's two in the afternoon, Becks. You-."

"I had a protein drink. I'm fine."

"How can you say that?!" his volume shocks me, hearing his words echo around the empty house. Gulping, I look away from his fiery eyes and to the food that makes my stomach turn. "You're not fine. All you've had to eat the last few days are a few bites at meals, and those stupid protein drinks. That can't be healthy. You need to eat because . . "

"Because why, Harry?" I speak up, bringing my eyes back to his. They avoid mine though as he stands across the island from me, rubbing his thumb along the tip of another finger. "You don't know, do you? You can't use the 'eating for two' excuse anymore, because I'm not . . eating for two, am I? I'm not . . not pregnant, so why should I need to eat? You don't have an answer, do you?"

"Because of you, Becks. You need to heal, your body needs the food and-," he begins to insist, but my sharp tongue can't be controlled.

"Trying to shove food down my throat and practically counting the number of bites I take is not going to heal my body, Harry," I retort, sliding off the barstool and stomping my way up the stairs.

Stopping at the landing, I'm not sure what led me up here, seeing as how we're sleeping downstairs now. Something about 'less exertion on my part and I haven't even stepped foot in our bedroom since then' being the reason for the move. The day we came home Harry had moved everything downstairs that we'd needed, and to the bathroom that we use now. It wasn't the same, but was anything anymore?

"Why can't you just talk to me?" he calls from the kitchen. Already, I'm shaking my head before he's finished. I take one step and then two, but I don't get any further when I see the door to the other guest bedroom. The room where they would have slept, and one that I most of all can't step foot in. My foot lifts but I place it back down, wishing I could but knowing that I can't. No, everything about the wound still felt too fresh and I know that I'm not ready to walk back into the nursery. But when could I ever be?

"I'm going to lie down," I mutter, passing the island where he stands, shoving the last of a taco past his lips.

Padding past the living room where the last of Beetlejuice plays with neither of us watching, I hope that he doesn't notice the gleam to my cheeks. I try to wipe it away quickly, and only when my face is buried into the pillow do I let my scream out. The one I'd been holding in all day as he watched me eat a few strawberries at breakfast, during the checkup at the doctor's, and zoning out watching the movie. Even if I'd wanted to, I couldn't stop the avalanche happening around my heart. It felt like the death of a loved one, because well, it was. There's the death and not even the funeral, and then what? Nobody ever talks about what comes after and how to deal with grief. Everything looked good at the doctor's visit and Harry asked a bajillion questions while I wasn't even sure what to say. I could tell he wanted to say something about how I'd been acting, but I silently thanked him for not doing so. Just like how I do the same now, knowing that he won't walk in as I cry myself to sleep for what, the fifth time in the last four days? No, it had been more than that.

I couldn't blame him, because even if he was here with his arms wrapped around me, I wouldn't know what to do. That feeling jumped off my tongue when I told him to go away yesterday when I lied about taking a nap. He'd only wanted to take one too perhaps, but I'd jumped down his throat. I didn't know what was happening to me, but there was hardly a small part of me that cared. I didn't even wish that I did.

Throat aching and eyes burning, I breathe in past the sniffles and stare out the window where light leaks in from. My baby. Our baby. I still couldn't believe that they were gone, our daughter. I'd never get to feel her kick or know what her smile looked like. I was sure it looked like his, lopsided with two dimples. That made my cheeks grow wetter, but it worsened when I thought of her name and the hollowness that came with it. I didn't stir when the door slowly creaked open, only staring at the new strip of light that interrupted the darkness.

"I'm going for a walk. Would you like to come?" Harry says, caution at the forefront of his voice. I couldn't find it in me to answer, not even when the next words came, making the line of yellow disappear entirely from my vision. "Alright, well I have my phone if you need anything . . I hope you sleep well, bug. I love you . . so much."

"Love you," I whispered, but it was too late. The yellow line had disappeared and so had he. It had only been four days since our baby had died and it felt like months, far too many. "Harry?" I call, sitting up to turn towards the door. Hastily wiping my hand under my eyes, I listen intently.

It's only moments before the wash of light returns, casting shadows along his face. His eyebrows fall into a questioning V and I try to ignore the extra tablespoon of sadness in his eyes.

"I love you too," I say tearfully, catching the tear before it falls from my eye.

A corner of his mouth itches upwards, but not quite, "I love you more, Becks." It sits on my tongue, impatient for its chance that I'm afraid doesn't come. "Were you gonna say something more?"

"No, just . . bundle up for your walk. It's cold."

"I will," he smiles, sending me a wink before closing the door quietly behind him. I remain in that pose, sitting up and watching the door, wishing he'd come back. I almost said it, but for some reason, I couldn't.

Why couldn't I just ask him to stay and to come and lie down with me? Because, he'd ask questions or want to talk about it, the thing that consumed us both, even if we tried to pretend otherwise. No, I was far past that. I never had the poker face that he did.

He didn't think that I heard him, but by now, we had gotten good at pretending in one way or another. Harry pretended like things were okay, and I pretended that I didn't hear him sobbing his eyes out in the bathroom as I laid in bed, faking being asleep yet another night. It tore at my heart but I didn't know how to tell my legs to move and cross the hallway to him. I acted as if I ate half of my plate at dinner, per our new deal, but I really only ate a quarter and threw the rest away. I pretended to not see the second glance he gave me when he walked in on me changing. I knew it but acted as if I didn't see the thinner reflection of myself, despite knowing how nutrition worked.

I ignored it a lot, but the next day when the doorbell rang yet again with a delivery man on the other side, it was enough. As I walked away from the door with another strong-smelling vase in hand, I couldn't fake it anymore. Seeing as how nothing was normal anymore, the kitchen table now overflowed with vases of flowers, us having not eaten there for weeks. My feet refused to move any closer to the hoard of a smell that now made my stomach turn.

I don't remember telling my body to do it, but suddenly, I'm watching in slow motion as the glass shatters at my feet. I couldn't tell you why I stood there, staring at the tendrils of water spreading on the floor. Neither could I explain away tossing the flowers into the garbage can with the note I never read. They all said the same thing. 'I'm sorry for your loss,' 'Thinking of you,' blah blah. Harry had been gone for a while, getting groceries at the market, and it was only a matter of time before he came back. I wasn't sure how I would explain this, and as I picked up the shards of glass, the guilt grew in my gut. The rumble of an engine outside made me jump, worrying it was Harry. Wincing, my palm suddenly burns and upon looking, scarlet soon seeps from a new cut.

I ignored his casual greeting ten minutes later, probably kicking the door closed behind him. He didn't say anything about the flowers, because for the first time in two weeks, I took out the trash after sweeping up the mess. I stuffed the blood-spotted rag in there too. When he pushed the bedroom door open with a long creak, I played pretend again, acting like I didn't hear his voice.

"You sleeping, bug?" his molasses voice mumbled, marked by the soft fall of his feet. I hadn't even heard them cross the room until they stopped behind me, and I felt his touch. "I hope you're having sweet dreams. I missed you, I do all of the time lately," he murmurs against my head.

I find it hard to not stir when his fingers drag against my temple with a lock of my hair. It had been something I'd gotten used to ignoring, but this time, as he pressed his lips to my temple, I wanted to reach out to him and grab hold, and never let go. The sensation only grew stronger as the sound of his footsteps disappeared, it all coming to a head. One that's only answered by a fitful of sobs racing past my lips, the first thing I'd felt in a while, next to the guilt at the flowers. Why couldn't I be okay? It stung, the words calling for him that I held back as I heard the sounds of cupboards opening and closing. I knew he would come. Did I really, after all I'd put him through? No, I didn't really know that. I wasn't sure of anything anymore, I realized, and it only made me sob harder.

Dinner was a doozy yet again. I'd come to dread meals. The stare-downs Harry would give me along with the protein drink he always shoved my way a good fifteen minutes after my last bite, if any. It was like clockwork yet again. This time, it was Strawberries and Cream, and as I grabbed for the bottle sitting in front of me, he stopped. No, this wasn't how it went. He usually took my plate and dumped it in the garbage, no longer sticking it in the fridge for later, because he knew that there wouldn't be one. Most of the time he only filled the plate half full, but today, I guess he'd gotten his hopes up and filled it high. Now, he didn't walk away and instead, stood there looking. At what I didn't notice until I followed his eyesight, immediately pulling the sleeve of my sweater over my hand.

"Hey, what happened to your hand?" Harry asks, nodding to the appendage that disappears like a frightened turtle into its shell. I didn't need him asking any more questions than before, or finding another reason to nag at me. "Love?"

"I-It's nothing, I just got a scratch."

"A scratch doesn't require gauze. Let me see," he insists, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. His touch is gentle but nonetheless, it feels foreign somehow, and I retract my hand from his. I catch his eye and look away, but it's too late, I've already seen how they look. How he looks at me, offended and scared all in one. "Buggie, did you . . did you do this to yourself?"

"What?" the word passes my lips in one breath, like a whoosh. Now, I'm looking at him and already, the regret has glazed over his eyes. His lips are parting with a save face, but it's too late now. "I didn't hurt myself, Harry. It's not like that. I-."

"Then what happened, Becks? Why can't you tell me, huh?" he huffs loudly, dropping his clean plate into a sink with a clash! It makes me jump and the sound of defeat from him makes him realize aloud. "I want you to talk to me, and . . I miss talking to you."

The cogs turn in my brain but the puzzle pieces with a few dozen missing ones refuse to lock together at the sound of his voice. What could I even say that would sound right? Nothing would, I know it. A quietness settles over the kitchen save for another trashy show on the tv behind us, my barstool squeaking underneath me. I could count the seconds that a word doesn't pass between us until my rebuttal is impossible to push down.

"Why won't you go to that session Dr. Baker set up for you?"

"I'm not hurting myself, Harry," I repeat, peeling my eyes from my naked fingers to look at the back of his head.

"Why won't you ever just give me an answer?" turning around, his lost green eyes fall on me. It felt like a long time ago, the way that very pair could pull words from my lips. Feelings. Kisses. Love. It digs past my own and deep into my chest, but it comes up empty-handed.

"I'm not going to a fucking shrink," I answer, remembering the bottle. Giving it a shake, I feel his eyes hot on the top of my head, waiting for me to give him something. That wasn't something I'd done for a long time, and not even the bare minimum.

"How come? You don't know that it won't help unless you try, Becks," I'm already shaking my head, sure to cause his eyes a roll or two at that. The sloshing of the liquid in my hand suffices my words, because they would have been a mess too. "I wish you'd at least give it a shot, you never know what will happen. It's sure to help to talk about . . her."

"I don't want to go, Harry. Please, just drop it."

Without looking at him, I can tell that he's not finished, even as I try to will the silence away with the glug of a drink.

"No, I'm not dropping it. This is important, Becks. You need to learn to talk about the baby. We need to."

Slamming the drink down onto the counter, the loud thud resonates with me, sounding louder than I'd intended. It reflects in his eyes when I meet them, wondering how they could still hold sunshine in them. I can't even remember what that feels like.

"Maybe I don't want to talk about her, Harry. Did you ever think about that? Maybe I don't want to go and talk to some stranger about how my baby died inside of me. A fucking stranger that probably has kids of her own or some man who's never even wanted children. They don't know and they can't know what I'm going through."

The artificial taste of the berries and cream had grown acrid on my tongue. Turning away from him with my feet leading, I could feel the one mouthful turning in my stomach.

"I can't do this any longer, buggie. I-I've lost our baby and now . . God, now I'm losing you and it's scaring the shit out of me," if my feet had continued, I wouldn't have kept walking. I'd known. I could feel the truth of his words ring in my bones, but hearing them spoken into the air was something else. "I don't know what to do anymore, Rebecca," the river had already begun to run in his voice. I was sure that if I stepped foot into it, I just might drown again too, and so I didn't. It tried to grab hold of me, but with every step taken away from him, its strength dwindled. The worsening ache in my chest at the sound I heard didn't lessen, not even when I threw myself under the covers and pillows. It filled my insides as a similar one poured from me.

It was as if last night had never happened. The entire thing almost, but not in the way I'd wished. No, I'd yearned for a lot of things in the last few weeks and not gotten them. When I awoke the next morning to the sounds of breakfast and the tv playing, it felt like some kind of joke when Harry walked into the bedroom soundlessly with a suit wrapped around him.

On his way back from what must have been finding his rings on the nightstand, he caught my eye as he slid them on. "Hey," he murmurs, a hollowness to his voice that felt deeper than last night. "I was hoping you'd wake up soon."

"Are you going to work?" the question came, piercing the taut air between us. We both already knew by the clothes he wore and the attempt he made to comb back his hair.

"Is that alright? It's just a partner meeting and some managing stuff. If you don't want me to-."

"No, it's fine. Drive safe," I mumble, turning to place my back to him. I could almost hear his nod, knowing it was there as the floor creaked underfoot.

"I will. Maybe I can grab some gnocchi soup on the way home for lunch. I shouldn't be more than a few hours."

My response didn't come and a further one from him didn't either. The sound of the bedroom door behind him did, as well as the front door and that of the garage. It had been next to never the first two weeks that the house was empty, save for me. Just in the last week, he had been leaving more for errands and grocery runs, no longer sufficing with deliveries to our front door. I'd only left the front door once, maybe twice, and that was for the checkup a few days after. A part of me wanted to just walk around the block, but the thought itself tired me out.

I couldn't remember how long he'd been gone by the time my stomach had rumbled. The last piece of cheesecake in the fridge and leftover pizza passed for lunch, if it was even that time. I couldn't do it anymore. Time. The light or lack of outside helped at times, but in our surrogate bedroom, the blackout shades didn't allude to night or day. I wasn't even sure of the time on the clock when he'd left, or even the calendar.

I hadn't turned the pages of one for a while now and upon seeing the date on my phone, it seemed foreign. Everything had at one point over the course of this all now, but the mysterious passing of it hadn't. I'd get the day of the week down and a few days later it would be a Monday again, unbeknownst to me how it could be. I grabbed another snack and was soon confused to find myself loading the dishwasher. Running it. Wiping down the counters. Washing blankets and fluffing pillows.

When I reached the top of the staircase, the blankets I needed just a few steps away, I didn't know how I had gotten here. As if in slow motion, I watched as the door swung open, the image slapping me in the face. I didn't have a clue how I had done it or how it had gotten past me to come up here to this room. The Room. Already, I saw the gift bags I knew to be filled with clothes and other gifts, the stuffed animals, small knitted blankets, and the picture frames with sonograms that once adorned the house. The image had already burned itself to the back of my eyes, only to be replaced by another moments later when the bed of my nightmares sat in front of me.

I didn't know why I'd gone to either place. The nursery and then our bedroom. It wasn't my refuge anymore because I wasn't sure if I still had one. Neither place was safe and my heart didn't feel it either when I pulled the covers over my head, an avalanche of tears making its way through my body. I didn't want to see any of that again. Being reminded of it all was something I couldn't handle, because I hadn't wanted it to be true.

The clock ticked and darkness remained in the room until it didn't. A new sound came, that of footsteps and with it was brought a light that I couldn't face. It built and grew, surmounting when I heard his voice and the crinkle of a bag.

"Hi, buggie. Are you awake? I brought home some lunch," I pushed it down again and again, but it was feeling next to impossible now.

"I'm not hungry."

"But I got your favorite muffin," he teases, crinkling of the bag following his words. The smell of the lemon cream hits my nose, but it doesn't phase me. No, the boiling underneath my skin is too different.

"I said I'm not hungry, Harry. What do you not get about that?!" I snap, pushing the bag away. "I can't believe you're already back to work. How can you just move on so quickly?" His loud sigh is unmistakable, as is the way he slams the bedroom door behind him.

The racing of my heart pounded in my ears as different sounds found their way to me. I laid there waiting and listening as he slammed doors and cursed, not immune to jumping when something shattered before a loud 'fuck!' of his came.

There hadn't been a sound for a while now when I pull back a blanket, at last not able to hear the pounding of my heart. I wasn't sure what I thought I was doing, knowing that there was no way around it. More like, him. Cautiously, I made my way past the tv playing a rerun of Saved By The Bell, and towards him. There weren't many things I'd memorized about Harry after knowing him for a few weeks, maybe shorter. I learned his cues early because I had to in order to work with him and to get somewhere, especially those alluding to his anger.

The broad back that faced me from where he sat at the island didn't tell me what I needed to know but the tension held in his shoulders did. So did the clicking of his tongue, the bouncing of his leg, and most of all, his shaking head and perturbed exhales.

"I saved you a muffin. It's in the fridge. I know that's how you like it . . Soup's in there too," the offer comes out slowly and off his forked tongue, one I know all too well. Perhaps it hadn't made an appearance yet, but it was right there, waiting. "No 'thank you, Harry' or 'how was work, my fiance?'"

"How was work, Harry? Who all asked about me? What lie did you tell them this time, my fiance?" I nearly retort, not afraid to show my horns. The lid to the jar of nuts gets stuck, but with a good twist, I get it. Pouring a handful into a plastic container, I let the next one fly before turning around. "What'd they say when you told them about our dead baby?"

The trained facade on his face washes away upon turning and quickly I realize what I've done. It's not enough though, because time has been against me for its entirety.

"You don't get to act like this. It's not okay to say that kind of shit, Becks," he tuts, wiping a napkin across his lips before standing with bowl in hand.

"But it's okay for you to go back to work already, Harry?!" the question explodes on my lips, but the volcano isn't quite done. "Our baby hasn't even been gone a month."

"You think I don't know that?!" his voice echoes off the walls around us, hitting my ears with an intensity that surprises me. If that hadn't, the expression on his face does. The anger that melts into something else. "Do you think I don't know how long our daughter's been gone, Rebecca? I wake up every morning with a new number in my head, no matter how hard I try not to. I know, okay? Twenty-three days our baby's been gone, Becks. You think I'm not having the same thoughts- feelings just because I don't show them . . And I'm not pulling a 'who has it worse' like our parents always have with us, but- but I lost a baby too, Becks! I also lost a child and you seem to forget that. I was supposed to become a dad in August to a little girl, but I never will now. I'll never meet our Phoebe Anne either."

His cheeks had long ago come to glisten as did his eyes that overflowed with them. I didn't remember mine becoming the same. Was it when something fell apart in my chest, or when the anger melted away into utter guilt? Maybe it was in between the missing puzzles piece falling into the picture and being unaware to dropping the bowl back onto the counter.

"We named her and we've never even called her that and- . . for lack of better words, it kills me. All of this fucking kills me, Becks, and I know how it's doing the same to you. It's taking you away from me and it's almost worse than the night I thought you were going to die, because I'm supposed to be able to control this. I'm the dad, almost the husband- I'm supposed to be able to fix all of this, but I can't. For once, I can't fucking make it all better and it terrifies me . . ," he trails off, crying quietly into his hands that he presses to his face. A weakness overwhelms me and I back up into the counter, afraid I can't hold myself up, but I already hadn't been able to. "Phoebe's gone and- I can hardly bear it. I know you didn't mean what you said just now, because I told Myles before I came that . . that I couldn't talk about it to anybody, Becks. If somebody had I know I would've started crying, because I did the fucking second I saw the sonogram on my desk. I went in to grab something and forgot it was there," he stops, holding onto the countertop as his adam's apple bobs after his words. Red like wild cherries, his lips press together tightly while tears run races over them and down his chin, as he stares at the floor, whimpering.

"I don't want this to break us, Becks- I already know it has and I can't . . I can't lose you. I have so many times and I couldn't handle it if it happened again, for real," his voice frays at the edges from the weight it sits under. The pounds of it feel dropped onto my shoulders when his eyes carry over to me, dripping with unspent words. "We lost our baby and I can't lose my best friend and love too, Becks. Please come back to me."

"I wish I knew how," the reply is a mere whisper but I know he hears. Even without words, he always does.

"You have to try, bug. We have to talk about her, I don't want her to be forgotten."

Bottom lip wobbling, my response is immediate, "Neither do I, Harry, but I don't- I don't know how to talk about her. It hurts so much. I still don't want any of this to be real."

Wiping the back of his hand against his nose, I hear his agreement in his eyes as he takes a step forward, "I wish every day that I could wake up and she's there and not . . not gone, but she's not coming back, Becks. And I'm so sorry," weeping, his voice is taken under by the current of the river flowing down his face. "We have to face it . . to talk about her and what happened. Or else, I don't see us getting through this."

When I realize what I'm doing, the look on his face tells all. Something sparks inside of me and I wish that I could stop shaking my head. That I could stop pulling away from him. "I can't, Harry. I'm not . . I'm not ready," I murmur, wishing I could say that I don't know when I will be. I don't because that would be a lie and although I'd broken so many rules already, I didn't want to lie to him.

Placing my back to him, I make my escape and drown out his sobs with the running water of the tub. I don't know if I'll ever be able to talk about her, and I know he's right. If we can't get past this, we may never make it back from it.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #harry au #lawyer romance #office romance #harry styles #harry styles wattpad #wattpad #fanfiction #young adult fiction #new book #hecky #pa harry #vanchlo writes

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hesesols · 4 years

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The Devil's Advocate

Day 19 and 21 of Ichiruki month 2020

Summary: Demons are a pain in the neck. Exhibit A: The pint-sized she-demon Ichigo’s stuck with until further notice.

Rating: T

FF/ao3

His mouth is bone dry.

Summer heat renders the humidity inside the tiny studio apartment stifling. Heat and sweat cling onto him like a second skin and the stupid electric fan does nothing to ease it.

It's barely three in the morning when he trudges over to his fridge and parks himself in front of the open doors. The blast of cold air hits his heated body nicely. He almost moans.

Instinctively, he grabs the bottle of orange juice from the side and takes a swig from it- only… it's empty?

He growls, "Rukia, what did we say about leaving the empty OJ in the fridge?"

The culprit spares him a lazy smirk from her end of the couch, violet cat-eyes gleaming from the faint glow of the TV. She tilts her head just so as she sticks her tongue out at him.

"Oops!"

Ichigo wearily sighs and slams the door shut, mumbling something about free-loading she-demons. His life is hardly picture perfect to begin with anyway with his job at the Metropolitan Police as a homicide detective. Work hours are long, and his mornings usually start off with unsolicited gruesome crime scene photos and a diluted concoction of coffee-water that is nowhere nearly as strong as he needs it to be.

Since Rukia moved in though, things seem to have gone from bad to worse.

His neighbours think she's his live-in girlfriend- sweet, albeit a little strange at times. Ichigo snorts. They don't know half of it.

The midget isn't even human.

Underneath a heavy layer of glamour, are two spiral-shaped horns- the colour of it blending near seamless with her nest of glossy black hair and of course, a very noticeable fork-tipped tail, flicking from side to side as she giggles at his obvious annoyance at the OJ-less situation.

Filling his cup with lukewarm tap water instead, he trudges over and nudges at her to move. Wordlessly settling next to her, he then proceeds to ignore her indignant yelp as he splays his long legs on the couch, taking up much of her space.

She huffs and glares at him, which earns her a careless roll of his eyes.

"What are you watching?"

Squinting slightly from the brightness, he scoffs as he realizes that she's watching a Spanish telenovela. Though watching may be an understatement in this case, Rukia is obsessed with them to the point where she becomes a little too invested in the torrid love affairs of the fictional characters on screen. By virtue of her otherworldly origins, she understands every language known to man and speaks in tongues; Ichigo doesn't and thinks it's a feat that he catches the names of the characters in passing.

He grabs the remote control, surprised when she viciously slaps his hand away and hisses, "Change the channel and I guarantee you won't live long enough to see the next dawn."

"I'd like to see you try."

Ichigo snorts and does it anyway. It's hard to take her seriously even with the whole glowing eyes business when she is so tiny that she barely comes to his shoulder.

As a demon, Rukia is surprisingly low maintenance- the most outrageous of her demands since she has gotten herself suspended in limbo in their plane of existence was for him to take her to a bunny café. That being said, she does however take her soaps and TV shows very seriously which explains her aggressiveness as she launches herself at him, her touch burning hot on naked skin as she grapples for the device.

"Give it back!"

Ichigo stretches, holding it in one hand just shy of her reach, taunting her.

"Why don't you make me, midget?"

Growling, she takes him up on his challenge. Violet eyes ablaze as she clambers over him on all four, chewing at her lower lip from the effort. It shouldn't even be possible Ichigo thinks, for demons to be this cute- ahem-fixated with earthly distractions but the press of her lithe body feels warm against him, deluding him into thinking for a second, that Rukia isn't some supernatural being from the nether realms powerful enough to send him flying with a snap of her fingers.

Sometimes, he feels she almost forgets about her inhuman advantages- on purpose. The puff of warm exhale from her makes his hair stand, the sight of her face so close to his jerks his thoughts away from his nonsensical musings. Her shirt hikes up and the collar that is way too loose on her easily falls off her shoulder, showing skin.

He bites the inside of his cheek. She needs to stop prancing around in his shirts.

She has her own clothes to wear. He bought her a full array of sundresses, pants, shirts and skirts. Ichigo thinks it's compulsion that makes her raid his closet and steal his clothes. It wouldn't have been quite so ridiculous if she wasn't so petite, making his worn-in T-shirts look more like dresses with the hem cut conspicuously shorter than normal on her thighs.

Ichigo looks away and takes a quick gulp of water. The heat is doing things to him.

He's not checking her out.

He swears. Honest to God.

He's not suicidal. He wouldn't put it above Rukia to claw his eyes out or alternatively damn him to the deepest pits of purgatories if she found out about him sneaking glances at her.

"Here!"

Ichigo throws the remote back at her, standing up abruptly without sparing her another glance. His skin feels warm- much warmer than it has any business of being under a demon's touch and his mouth dry. No touch of water will ever begin to quench this thirst and tame his racing heart but he is human enough to still try to run from the implications.

It's too hot to think. He grabs his keys and wallet.

"I'm heading out."

Rukia's voice rings up from the couch- cool, unaffected as always. Ichigo hates her a little for it, almost.

"This time of the day? Where are you going?"

"To get some OJ from the corner shop since someone finished it and couldn't even be bothered enough to replace it."

Her grin is impish, not a shred of remorse from her as she sighs and kicks back, reclaiming her sovereignty over the couch.

"Oh, could you grab some ice-cream while you're at it? I think we're all out too."

He grimaces, halts his process of shrugging on a shirt to yell back, "They're full of sugary crap. Too much of it and you're going to rot your teeth!"

Just before he sets foot outside though, he grumbles.

"What flavour do you want?"

The grin she flashes at him is annoying and indolent with her spread out on the couch, like a cat in the sun, pleased with her unchallenged access to her favourite soap and him running errands on her behalf.

The satisfaction practically purrs from her as she smirks and says, "Strawberries and cream."

His cheeks burn and he tells himself that he's too nice for his own good, staunchly refusing to even consider the possibility that she's got him wrapped around her pretty little fingers.

The streets of his neighbourhood are mostly deserted in the wee hours before dawn and the scarcity of people makes the air somewhat bearable despite the heat. He walks home in the dark, his groceries in a plastic bag hanging limply by his side.

Ichigo sighs. It's a horrible thing to be distracted by thoughts and downright disgraceful that it has taken him this long to realize that he's being followed.

He turns the next corner sharply and as expected, the heavy footsteps, the crunch against the gravel of the pavement follows. He hides behind the decrepit wall, bidding his time until the sound creeps close enough for him to make out the shadow of a hunkering man.

Now!

He leaps out from the shadow, swinging the heavily-laden bag like a weapon at his attacker.

The stranger decked from head to toe in black falters from the surprise attack. He is forced to take another step back as the weight hits him dead centre- quickly followed by a punch from Ichigo, letting out a pained groan as his world spins.

"Who sent y- the fuck!—"

The hood of his attacker slips off and Ichigo is more than a little shocked by the ghastly appearance of the creature underneath it. Whatever this thing is- it's not human. Yellow teeth- drool dripping from the corners of the gaping mouth and sunken cheeks make up the most sinister-looking skull-face he has ever seen. The thing's unfocused milky white eyes sharpened at him.

The creature throws itself at him, snarling with claws drawn out and aimed at his jugular.

Forced on the defensive, Ichigo doesn't hesitate. Instincts and years of experience have him throwing the bag of grocery at the ghoul as a distraction to buy him time. He takes off down the street in the opposite direction without looking back.

The bag rips, predictably; the contents of it spilling into the empty streets but it barely slows the creature down.

Outrunning him by a good minute, the creature lunges at him from his blind spot which he clumsily dodges. His back meets the wall of the alleyway, chipping off old paint and the uneven edges bite into his skin through his flimsy cotton shirt, drawing blood. He hisses in pain but there's barely even time to register it as the ghoul lunges again.

The strong jaw of the creature crushes the pieces of garbage Ichigo throws at it, rendering them into splinters. Its movements and attacks unrelenting and aimed to kill.

Weaponless as opposed to the creature's deadly bite and claws, Ichigo has neither the speed nor the agility to fully dodge the frenzied attacks. The odds are stacked against him and with every swipe and snarl; Ichigo feels his chances of survival dwindling.

He is crawling backwards on all four, back against the wall when his hand closes on a steel bar. He thanks the stars and whatever higher power there may be but knows that he is not out of the woods yet.

Grim determination sets in as his eyes harden.

He only gets one chance- one chance to get this right or he's dead and done for.

The ghoul rears up for its attack and Ichigo readies himself.

Mid-launch, the steel bar spears through the creature's twisted body. It gives a strangled cry, black blood oozing and dripping onto the pavement, over Ichigo's battered and bruised body. But Ichigo refuses to let go. He pushes it in deeper until he can hear the snap of muscles and soft tissues, and sees the metal protruding from the other side of the dead monster.

The ghoul flops over dead. Its weight settles on top of Ichigo and he eagerly hoists it off, eager to put some distance between them. The damn thing smells worse than the open sewage and rotten corpses.

Above him, there is an ominous roll of thunder and flashes of lightning that streak through the dark skies. Ichigo picks himself up wearily. He has no intention of being caught in the downpour.

Sharp pain shoots from his side as he hobbles. His hand comes up red and in disbelief, his eyes flit to the wound on his side, cut deep and the shred of cotton or what remains of his tattered shirt is soaked in the bloom of scarlet. The drip—drop of blood follows the pull of gravity, pattering onto the hot pavement.

He's been stabbed, he realizes belatedly and curses, that was his favourite shirt too.

Adrenaline fades and his legs give way from the blood loss.

A drop of something cool slides down his cheek before the torrent of rain follows, drenching him as he lays helpless on the deserted street, too weak to even yell for help.

He heaves a shaky breath, trying to make himself comfortable. The ache of the pain somehow dulling as the rain blurs his vision.

Cliché but he swears he sees his life flashing before him. And at the forefront of his strange musings and equally bizarre life cut short before his time, he remembers his first meeting with Rukia.

There's nothing quite like satanic cults and human sacrifices to brighten up the prospects of the day.

Ichigo grimaced, looking at the crime scene photos with a deep frown as he sipped at his coffee. He should have never taken up Ishida on his offer.

This case had all the makings of a ritual killing. Missing child, dead parent cut open with palms splayed, gruesome markings etched- he scowled; it reminded him too much of his own loss.

A tip-off from Anonymous led him to an abandoned warehouse not too far away from the Docks, the scene of the first murder.

"Don't do anything stupid," Ishida had cautioned him against it, "It's just another prank call. I sent a team out to canvas that area hours ago. There's nothing in that warehouse."

But Ichigo wasn't convinced. Gut instincts screamed at him to take a closer look at it but he also wasn't about to pick a fight when they should be focusing the bulk of their resources and time into finding the missing girl. The first 48 hours are crucial.

He's tough and packing. That made the second part of his decision a no-brainer as he slinked in past the locked gates and rusted metal fences— alone.

What he found inside the warehouse though was enough to make him balk.

"Nothing to report, my ass," he mumbled, carefully avoiding the pile of animal bones strewn along the doorway. He thought he heard the scurrying of rats and other critters as he made his way in deeper, unable to shake off the feeling of being watched.

There's something else in here. He could feel it in his bones.

He drew his weapon as he wandered into a room with what seemed to be a laid altar with offerings of dead flowers and questionable animal remains.

Heavy clouds of sulphur and incense filled the air, making his eyes water. In the centre of the room, was a circle, curious glyphs and runes drawn in red that he strongly suspected to be blood, candles with half-burnt ends flickering.

There's a pull at him towards the circle. He didn't resist it. The minute he crossed the threshold though, the candles were snuffed out and a blinding white light enveloped him. A strange ringing echoed through the room.

When his vision cleared, there was a girl with two horns and a tail standing in front of him, violet eyes searing into his as she bowed somewhat mockingly.

"Took you long enough. I was beginning to think that I'll waste away here for another week before someone shows up."

He stared, slack-jawed at her nudity or rather her lack of shame at her own state of undress.

She was unimpressed. Tapping her foot impatiently, she looked at him and said, "Well don't just stand there and gape. State the terms of your contract and we'll see if something can be arranged."

"Ichigo!"

The memory fades. The same pair of violet eyes are now boring deep into his.

"Rukia," he breathes. Talking is hard but he tries anyway. If it's to be his dying words, let them at least have meaning. Rukia- her existence and the events leading to her presence in his life are the only things that have ever made sense in a world said to have been created by an all-loving God and yet so full of injustice and hate.

"Stop talking! Damn it!"

He thinks she's smarter than that. He's lost too much blood now to ever come back whole. He is beyond saving at this point.

There's a light somewhere guiding him on. Maybe he'll see his mom after this; will she be proud of him- of what he's done with his life?

"I won't let you die."

There's a strange shimmering in the air. The shaft of light shining down on him is suddenly blotted out and he is falling-

Falling-

He slams back into his body and chokes.

The pain is a hundred times sharper and a million times more jarring than he remembers. Brown eyes snap open just in time to see Rukia's kneeling body enshrouded in a silver ashy glow of light; her hand plunged deep into his chest.

The rain plasters her hair to her face; her eyes an unholy combination of black sclera and violet irises. She growls from the effort as her fingers tirelessly trace rune after rune across his broken body. The burnished ring of gold on his chest glows and hums with each and every character added.

Ichigo can only watch on in stunned silence as a cascade of something iridescent is siphoned from her and pulled into him. He thinks he hears singing, sweeter than the song of a nightingale and so beautiful that he thinks he just might cry from it.

She grits her teeth.

"Do you trust me?"

He nods.

She presses her lips to his. He surges forward to meet her and tastes the saltiness of her tears, mingled with that of the rain. There's a cut on her lip from where she had been biting too hard and the taste of it- like honey, decadent and syrupy, lingers on his palate.

The pain- or rather the absence of it grows and he feels something being anchored into place.

His heart.

Her heart.

There's something between them that is beyond words and whatever she's done, Ichigo knows it's life-changing for the both of them. He knows somehow, staring at the identical marks of a glowing glyph on the back of their palm.

They're bonded.

But even the very word seems inadequate to express this shimmer between them. There's a sliver of her- something inhuman— nay, a dark voice whispers, better than human— within him and it makes the world incomprehensibly sharper in his eyes, the taste of the summer air sweet on his tongue and the warmth of her skin so achingly perfect against his own as he holds her.

Pink flesh peeks through his tattered shirt. He is once again healed, whole, rendered into something new in her presence.

"So," he licks his dry lips, "did Hector ever managed to tell Maria that he loves her?"

"You idiot!"

She is shaking her head, calling him names for his recklessness. At length, she stops, and heaving a sigh of deep relief, grins at him, canines showing.

"Welcome back to the world of living, Master."

FF/ao3

The 'I-accidentally-summoned-a-cute-demon-and-now-I-think-I'm-in-too-deep-to-let-her-go' AU

Also detective! Ichigo who solves crime with some help from the occult world- courtesy of his soulmate/familiar/contract partner demon! Rukia.

As always, review, like, reblog, comment or send me an ask to share random thoughts.

#ichiruki #ichirukimonth #irmonth2020 #Day 19: all my demons have your smile #day 21: supernatural #supernatural AU #fanfic #mine #the devil's advocate

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completemalum · 4 years

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You're My Favorite Place

Or alternatively, Four Times Calum Almost Kissed Michael and One Time He Did.

Genre: Fluff, some angst

Rating: Everyone

A/N: This oneshot is basically a collection of mini stories that all kind of connect to each other. Title based off Favorite Place by All Time Low.

2006, Age 10

It was another Michael and Calum Weekend Sleepover, and Michael had woken up crying due to one of his night terrors. Calum was currently cuddling Michael with Michael's face buried into Calum's neck. It wasn't unusual for them to cuddle like this. They usually ended up forgoing their sleeping bags and sharing a bed together. Plus, they were best friends. They saw nothing wrong with sharing a bed. But for some reason, this felt...different to Calum. Calum was no strangers to Michael's night terrors and was always willing to help calm him down. But for some reason, this time he felt like he needed to protect Michael. Which was weird, as Calum was scrawnier and quieter than Michael and Michael was pretty much Calum's bodyguard. And with the way Michael's hand was bunching up Calum's shirt and his nose pressed against Calum's neck, he had a strong urge to kiss Michael. But he told himself no, boys can't kiss other boys. And boys especially can't kiss their best friends. Plus, he liked girls...right? At that moment he wasn't quite sure if he had ever had a crush on a girl. But he didn't want to spend all night contemplating if he liked girls or not. What mattered was that he was there, with Michael. He opted for a quick kiss on the top of Michael's head once he was sure Michael had fallen asleep and cuddled close to him before falling asleep himself.

2008, Age 12

Calum knew two things: 1. He had a huge crush on Michael. And 2. He was bisexual. He learned the term "bisexual" after his older sister, Mali, came out to him about her secret girlfriend. And honestly, he was very comfortable with that label and quite proud about figuring out his sexuality. But of course, Michael didn't know. He couldn't know. Calum was so scared that him telling Michael that he likes boys would scare Michael off because what if Michael somehow found out about Calum's crush on him and didn't want to be friends anymore?? Calum couldn't bear the thought of that. So he kept his thoughts to himself, occasionally sneaking glances at Michael and smiling at the way Michael stuck his tongue out in concentration whenever they played video games together.

Calum was yanked out of his thoughts when Michael announced "It's hot in here, can we go watch TV downstairs or something?"

Calum shrugged "We could go outside and play football."

"Noooo, playing football with you isn't fair, you always win!" Michael whined, flinging himself dramatically onto Calum's bed.

"Now you know how I feel playing racing games with you." Calum retorted with a grin

"Fiiiine." Michael groaned as he got off the bed. Calum grinned and followed Michael downstairs, grabbing the football by the door before stepping into the backyard. "Same goal spots as usual?" Michael asked

Calum nodded and put the football on the ground, gently kicking it with his foot. "Same goals." He grinned before taking off with the ball towards the goal.

"Hey! No fair!" Michael yelled, chasing after Calum. Calum laughed as Michael started catching up with him. But Michael, being clumsy as he was, tripped over his own foot, sending him and Calum tumbling. When they landed, Michael had Calum pinned to the ground. Michael grinned at Calum "Totally meant to do that."

The thought of leaning up and kissing Michael crossed Calum's mind, and he blushed before quickly pushing the thought out of his head. "Uh, let's go inside and grab a snack." Calum hoped Michael wouldn't notice that they only played football for like two minutes.

Luckily, he didn't notice, as he shrugged and said "Okay." Before climbing off Calum and heading inside. Calum groaned softly to himself before following Michael in. Having a secret crush on your best friend is hard.

2011, Age 15

The band 5 Seconds of Summer was officially together, and while they were just a small YouTube channel with a couple hundred subscribers, they were happy to be doing what they were doing. They were about to start band practice at Michael's house. Calum was the first person there as usual, sat in the basement where they rehearsed tuning his bass. Michael came downstairs to join Calum, nervously picking at his nails. Calum looked up and noticed Michael's anxious habit. "You only pick at your nails when you're nervous. Are you okay?" He asked gently.

Michael nodded as he joined Calum on the couch "It's just...I need to tell you something. But you can't tell anyone. Not even Luke and Ashton. I'm not ready to tell them yet." Calum nodded with concern on his face but gestured for Michael to continue. Michael took a deep breath. "I think I'm gay. I've known for a while now...I just finally came to terms with it recently and I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I just...really hope this doesn't change things between us. I don't want to lose my friend because I like boys." Calum felt his heart leap with joy. He had a chance. Maybe. Michael liked boys so it's a start at least.

He put his hand on Michael's arm "Mike...nothing could change between us. You're my best friend and it'd be dumb if I didn't want to be friends with you anymore because you like boys. I'm really happy for you, thank you for telling me." Calum saw relief wash over Michael's face and he gave Michael's arm a comforting squeeze. God, how bad he wanted to kiss Michael right then. He opened his mouth to give Michael his own confession but right then Luke and Ashton came barreling down the stairs, arguing over some new video game. Calum squeezed Michael's hand before getting off the couch and grabbing his bass. How he wished he had the courage to tell Michael how he felt.

2015, Age 19

Michael was hurt. Bad. A fire cannon had malfunctioned during one of their shows and hit Michael in the face, catching his hair on fire and burning the left side of his face. Calum had gotten burned too while trying to help Michael, but once they were at the hospital he had insisted he was fine, so they put some cream on his arm to soothe the burn and wrapped it up. Ashton was outside making phone calls and Luke went downstairs to the cafeteria to get food. Calum had told Luke that he wasn't hungry and wanted to stay with Michael. Him and Michael sat in comfortable silence for a while before Michael spoke up.

"Cal?" He asked. Calum looked up and his heart broke. Michael's lip was quivering and tears were gathering in his eyes. "What if I have a scar on my face because of this? What if people think I'm ugly?" His voice shook as tears fell from his eyes.

"Mikey..." Calum said softly, standing up to sit on the bed. He put his hand on Michael's cheek and wiped away a tear with his thumb "You could never be ugly. Not to me, at least." Michael smiled softly, leaning into Calum's touch.

"Thank you for being here with me. And holding my hand on our way here. You're the only person able to keep my grounded."

Calum smiled and intertwined his and Michael's fingers and kissed his hand "I'd do anything for you." He still hadn't confessed his feelings to Michael yet, but he had become bolder with his physical affection for Michael and he knew Michael wouldn't think anything of the hand kiss. Before either of them could say anything, Luke came back with food, causing them to part. Calum cast one more longing glance at Michael before helping Luke get the food out.

2018, Age 22

5SOS was in the process of finishing up their 3rd album, Youngblood. They only had a few songs left to record and were recording the song "Why Don't You Love Me" and Michael was singing his solo in the song. All four of them were in the studio that day, but Calum was watching Michael for most of it. But he could've sworn that Michael was staring at him for most of his solo. After Michael finished, their producer suggested they take a break to get lunch. They all started to file out of the room, but Calum gently grabbed Michael's arm to stop him. He shoved his hands in his pockets before saying "Who's the song about, Mike?"

Michael looked taken aback "I-I don't know what you mean..."

Calum scoffed "I know you better than that. Every song you write involves some aspect of your life. You dont just casually write a song like that. And I noticed you glancing over at us. So, who's the lucky guy?"

Michael dropped his head and said in a voice that Calum almost didn't hear "You."

Calum's heart stopped "What?"

Michael sighed and lifted his head "The song is about you. I've been in love with you since we were 16. I wrote this song a few years ago. I'd hoped getting my feelings out would help me get over you, but-"

Michael was interrupted by Calum lunging forward and pressing his lips to Michael's. Michael made a noise of surprise before kissing back. The kiss was desperate and filled with years of unspoken words. Calum's fingers were tangled in Michael's hair and Michael was desperately gripping Calum's shirt. Calum didn't want to pull away, but he finally did when he needed to breathe. He rested his forehead against Michael's as they both panted, trying to catch their breath. After a few minutes, Calum whispered "I've dreamt of kissing you every night for ten years." Michael smiled and rubbed Calum's sides before whispering "I love you, Hood."

#this was so long and ended so abruptly asdfghjkl #malum #malum is real #otp: promise? i promise #malum fluff #calum hood #michael clifford #5sos #5sos fluff #5 seconds of summer #favorite place #all time low

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