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toosicktoocare · 3 years

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emergency contact

pt 1 of 2 and also found on ao3!

(i promise i’m not ignoring my prompts- this idea just kinda popped into my head)

“Hi, may I speak with Mr. Evan Buckley?”

Frowning, Buck pulls the phone away from his ear. He doesn’t know the number; however, the area code is local, so he can probably rule out a scam call. At least, he thinks, the woman on the other line sounds very much real and not a robotic recording about to lead in with a cruise ship he didn’t sign up for.

“Uh, yeah. This is Buck—I mean Evan. This is Evan Buckley.” He clears his throat. He can hear a lot of background noise—a lot of muffled speaking, intercoms crackling. He’s heard it before, but he’s struggling to equate the noise to a particular memory, only having a small rock of dread burrowing low in his stomach to go by.

“Hi, Mr. Buckley. I’m Nurse Johns at LA General. I have you listed as the second emergency contact for Christopher Diaz.”

Buck’s stomach bottoms out, leaving him nauseous, weightless, and far too cold despite the LA sun beating in through his window and warming his bed. He shivers and forces himself upright in bed, muscles rigid, jaw a tense, jutted line.

“His father,” Buck starts into the phone, shaky, “Eddie—Edmundo Diaz—”

“—didn’t answer. You’re next on the list. Sir, if this is incorrect, I’ll need to move on to the next person—”

“—no!” Buck jerks to his feet, nudging abandoned clothes around with his foot until he finds a pair of gym shorts. “I’m… His father’s on a shift with the LAFD. Is Chris okay? What’s going on?” Composure, he thinks, is out the window. Then again, he’s never been capable of the whole ‘cool, calm, and collected’ thing when it comes to Chris. He snags the same shirt he tossed to the floor when he climbed into bed this morning after his 24-hour, a short-sleeved, blue shirt, and slips it over of his head, careful of his phone.

“Sir, I can’t disclose that over the phone.”

“Right,” Buck mutters, nodding more to himself. “I’m on my way now. Tell Chris—tell him Bucky’s on the way, okay?” He ends the call, taking the steps down from his loft two at a time. He’s only faintly aware that he’s shaking, and the rock of dread’s grown triple in size and sits heavily against his gut. He fumbles with his keys, pockets his wallet, and just remembers to slip on a pair of sandals. If he weren’t moving against a rush of fear, he’d take the time to give a mental ‘look who’s laughing now’ to everyone who’s made fun of the sandals in the last two months since he purchased them, but, the fear is a cold hand that’s pulling on him, disrupting his thoughts, chiseling against his composure.

He doesn’t dwell. He races out of his apartment, and in seconds, he’s in his jeep and whipping out of his parking spot. He knows LA well, knows the traffic patterns, and he’s unfortunately hitting lunch rush, which, he thinks, is probably similar to some twisted second layer of hell. He wishes, more than anything in this second, that he had an engine, that he could dominate the road with the power of a siren, but his jeep will have to suffice. Still, his grip on his steering wheel is tight, his knuckles fading white, when he hits the first of many red lights.

He uses hands-free to call Eddie, not surprised to get his voicemail after only two rings.

“Eddie! Chris is in the hospital—They didn’t give me any details, and I’m on my way now. They called you first. I’m next on the list?” Buck pauses briefly on that, gets lost in that fact, but then he shakes his head. “Look, he’s at LA General—just get there when you can, okay?”

He ends the calls, somehow feeling even worse, and then he tries Bobby. Logically, he knows that if Eddie’s not answering, Bobby probably won’t either. Still, when he’s teetering on the edge of panic, Bobby can talk him down, can ease him safely back to the present.

“Buck?”

Buck’s foot slips a little too hard on the gas, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Bobby? Bobby! Where’s Eddie?”

“Currently? He’s probably making his way back to a second story window, hopefully with one of the victims of an expansive house fire.” A pause. “What’s going on, Buck?”

Buck peers around, swallows back a groan at the cars on every side of him. “Look, can you get Eddie to LA General ASAP?”

“You’re at LA General? Are you hurt?”

“No! I mean, I will be, but it’s not me—it’s Christopher. Bobby, I don’t…” Buck sighs, drags a free hand down his face. He can feel his lungs constricting. The pressure of panic’s a bitch.

“They didn’t say anything over the phone. They tried Eddie first, and then they called me. I’m—”

“—Buck, take a breath. I’ll get Eddie there as soon as possible. You be careful driving there, okay? Keep us updated.”

Buck comes back down to earth with a low breath that’s been trapped in his lungs. “Thanks, Bobby,” he says, and he means it, pushing his gratitude hard into the two words. The call ends, and Buck forces his focus onto the road, onto making it to the hospital in one piece because Christopher needs him.

***

Concussion.

It’s the only word Buck keeps coming back to. He’s being led down hallways that are too bright, too loud, and annoyingly familiar, and the nurse is explaining that Christopher took a tumble at school and is currently being monitored for a possible concussion. Buck nods when appropriate, offers a few non-verbal affirmatives, and then he’s stopping before two large, glass windows, and behind them, Chris is sitting in bed chatting with another nurse. His hand finds the glass, fingers spread out, anxiety spread even to his palms.

“You’re welcome to go in. We’ve told him you’re coming.”

Buck nods absently. He’s going to go in—of course, he’s going to go in. He just needs to take a single second to fully capture the image of Christopher alive and breathing in his mind, an image that can break through the muddle, clear his head, bring breath back to his lungs.

“Mr. Buckley?”

“Sorry,” Buck mutters, nodding. He turns when the nurse opens the door for him, and he wills away any and all fear etched deep in his face the second he crosses over into the room.

“Bucky!”

“Chris!” Buck’s no stranger to concussions, so though animated, he keeps his voice soft, and he walks toward the end of the bed, glancing at the clipboard. “How’re you feeling, bud?” He asks, satisfied to see that the doctor’s notes are promising.

“My head hurts.”

“I bet it does,” Buck mutters, sympathetic, and he drops onto the edge of the bed, one hand resting atop Christopher’s covered knee. “What happened?”

“Me and Caleb were playing firefighter, and I fell down a step.”

Buck sucks in a sharp breath, holds it in his lungs to brace for the familiar wave of guilt that’s soon to tangle in his breath, jab past his rib cage to his lungs. “Is that so?” He settles for, breathless, and Christopher’s face falls, his eyes dropping to his lap.

“Don’t tell dad. He’ll get mad.”

“Chris—”

“—Mr. Buckley, I presume?”

Buck’s never been more thankful for a doctor to walk in for he wasn’t sure how to unpackage Christopher’s quiet plea in a way that wouldn’t be considered as overstepping Eddie’s parental authority but also in a way that wouldn’t have Christopher demanding he leave.

“Uh, yeah—It’s Buck.”

“Okay, Buck. Want the good news?”

“Will it be followed by bad news?” Buck asks, one brow arched, stomach twisting. “Because his father—”

“—no bad news today,” the doctor interrupts, and Buck huffs out a quiet sigh of relief and gives Christopher’s knee a squeeze. He gives a nod, and the doctor plucks the clipboard up.

“Christopher’s been cleared of a concussion. He’s got a few scrapes and bruises, and his head will probably hurt for a few more hours, but otherwise, he’s fine. I’ll leave a note at the front desk to begin the discharge papers. He should be out within the hour.”

“Thanks, Doc,” Buck mutters, and he nods when the doctor and nurses exit, giving him space to breathe; though, he’s not sure how much he can actually breath encompassed in four, blinding walls that bring back a pressing dark cloud of memories.

“Buck?”

Buck blinks slowly, peels his gaze from the door to see Christopher smiling softly at him, poking at his side.

“Can you lay with me?”

Buck eyes the small bed, mentally works round the best way to squeeze in, to maximize Christopher’s comfort, and he slips his sandals off and climbs onto the bed, impossibly gentle when he adjusts Chris. When he’s got Christopher against his chest, he sighs, and Christopher sighs with him, content, safe.

***

“That’s the last of them, Cap,” Eddie coughs lightly, tugs his helmet off. His lungs burn faintly from smoke inhalation. It’s not bad by any means, but he’s dabbling with the idea of having Hen look him over anyway.

“Should I help with fire…” Eddie’s words trail off when the 122 pulls up onto the scene, their members already hopping out of the engine and working the hose. “Was backup necessary?” He glances back over his shoulder. Sure, the fire’s large, but he doesn’t think it’s classified as a level high enough to warrant local support.

“Are you okay?”

Eddie whips back around, squints at Bobby. “Yeah, why?”

“Let me clarify: are you okay to leave the scene right this second, or do you need to a look-over now?”

Eddie’s still struggling to read Bobby’s tone for it’s always frighteningly composed, even in the face of emergency. “I’m okay now.” He nods slowly, and then Bobby’s turning on his heel and wordlessly gesturing him toward the engine.

He slips into the back, pausing to see Bobby sitting in the back with him, stationed across from him.

“Cap, what—”

“—have a seat.”

Eddie sits slowly, slips his headphones on, and then the engine’s roaring to life beneath him and pulling away from the scene. He’s alone with Bobby because Hen and Chimney left earlier with a patient, and he can’t shake the feeling that he’s in trouble for something. He replays his actions at the house fire, yet he can’t find an error that would warrant a private conversation with Bobby.

“Buck called,” Bobby finally says, and Eddie drags his gaze from the cars moving onto the road shoulders, now finally tuning in to the fact that the sirens are wailing overhead still, the engine demanding the street with the shrill sounds and flashing lights. The sirens shouldn’t be on unless…

“Is he okay?”

“Buck’s fine. The hospital called him because Christopher was brought in. They tried you, and he was next on the emergency contact list.”

There’s dread, Eddie thinks. Dread when he rides up to a call and gathers the first, initial assessment of the situation. And then there’s bone-deep, crippling fear—fear that twists in his gut, pools into his lungs, walls around his heart. It drains the blood from his face, freezes his muscles, steals his breath, and buries his mind in a series of what if scenarios that range from grim to downright terrifying.

“Eddie, breathe.”

He does, but only because his mind is trained to respond on command to Bobby’s voice. The breath he sucks in his short and cold, and he finally reaches in his pocket for his phone. He’s got four missed calls, three voicemails, and a series of texts from Buck, all fairly close in time to the other.

He goes through the texts—he won’t be able to hear the voicemails right now, and he really doesn’t think he’ll be able to stomach Buck’s panicked, broken voice.

[From: Buck] Chris is okay. He fell at school and hit his head

[From: Buck] no concussion. Doc said he can be discharged within the hour

[From: Buck] I’ve checked him over. There’s a bruise on his side I want to keep an eye on but otherwise he’s okay

[From: Buck] we should talk about why he fell

[From: Buck] but not until later! Sorry that last text sounded weird…

[From: Buck] discharge in 20 minutes. I’ll bring him back to yours if you aren’t able to come yet. I still have the spare key you gave me

He’s blinks around the tears pooling in his eyes, swallows thickly. “Buck said he’s okay. He fell at school.” He’s aware his voice is shaking, and then Bobby claps him on the knee.

“That’s a good thing.”

It is, Eddie thinks, swiping the back of his hand over his eyes. He works on his breathing, controlling it, counting breaths, but when they pull up to the hospital, the fear comes back, muted now, but still there, always there.

He hops out of the engine, Bobby not far behind, and in just seconds, a nurse is guiding them back. When he reaches the door and looks beyond the glass to see Christopher curled up against Buck’s chest, he breathes, deeply and fully, for the first time since he pulled himself up into the engine. Relief, he thinks, is the singular image of the two most important people in his life safe and together.

***

“Christopher!”

Buck whips his gaze from his phone where he’s got a story pulled up to read to Christopher, and he slowly turns Chris over just as Eddie rounds the bed and pulls Chris to his chest tightly. He notes, to himself, that Eddie’s in full turnout gear, that he’s got soot smudges on his face, that his jaw is a set, unwavering line jutting against his skin.

“Daddy!”

“¿Estás bien, hijo?”

“Sí.”

Buck wordlessly slips from the bed, toes his feet into his sandals. He crosses his arms and backs away from the scene, feeling all too overwhelmed, suddenly suffocated despite the brush of relief before him, and then Eddie’s looking toward him, frowning, eyes unreadable, and Buck offers a small smile.

“The discharge papers,” he motions toward a stack of papers on the end of the hospital bed. “I’ll bring my jeep around.”

“Wait, Buck—”

Buck slips out of the room, eyes cast to the ground, and he bumps right into someone, his hand coming up to fist around the turnout jacket and his head dropping against a shoulder.

“You okay, Buck?”

There are so many ways Buck wants to say no, but the one that’s most alarming, one that’s been a nagging twinge in his lungs, is the one he opts for. “I don’t think I can breathe.” His voice is breathless, and then Bobby’s guiding him with a hand to his back toward the nearest exit. The second he bursts through the double doors, he sucks in a sharp gasp that breaks way to a few coughs, and he’s being gently eased onto the edge of the sidewalk.

“Easy, Buck. Breathe with me, okay?”

Buck meets Bobby’s eyes, nods, and drags his gaze down to Bobby’s chest, watching the steady rise and fall, mimicking it, until the fog clouding his brain breaks, leaving him far too tired. His shoulders slump, and Bobby claps a hand to his shoulder.

“What’s going on?”

“I didn’t know…” Buck sighs, dropping his face into his palms. He can hear his therapist’s voice reminding him that he’ll feel better if he’s more open with others. “I’m really overwhelmed right now.” He can feel Bobby’s hand tighten around his shoulder, a wordless sign to continue. “Just… Getting that call that Chris is in the hospital really freaked me out. I know he’s fine, but just… He’s the last person I ever want to see in a hospital bed.”

“Now you know how I feel every time I get a call that you’re in the hospital.”

“Bobby,” Buck groans, lifting his head to match Bobby’s smile.

“You look tired—I don’t imagine you got much sleep before the call?”

“A few hours,” Buck admits, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Not sure I’ll get back to sleep anytime soon. I’m exhausted, but it’s definitely going to take some time for the adrenaline to die down.”

“Do you need me to take Eddie and Chris back?”

“Nah,” Buck drags himself up to his feet, yawning. “I’m going to need to physically see Christopher safe in bed before I can even think about unwinding.” He can see one of the engines not far off in the parking lot, and he laughs quietly. “Though, I bet Chris would love to be back in the truck.” He frowns at Bobby’s turnover gear. “Did you leave right after a call?”

“I requested the 122 to come in for backup.”

Nodding absently, Buck looks back toward the doors they came from, and he crosses his arms, fingers digging into the skin. He knows that he’s taken all necessary steps when faced with an abrupt situation, yet he can’t shake the underlining burn in his stomach that he overstepped, that he didn’t get here fast enough, that he should have added a step, or even removed one, when getting here.

“You did good today, Buck.”

His shoulders slump, tension falling with them, and he huffs out a low sigh.

“Thanks, Bobby.”

***

“You keep looking at him like he’s going to disappear.”

Buck jumps; he didn’t hear the shower cut off, nor did he hear Eddie slip into Christopher’s room behind him.

“I keep thinking he might,” Buck whispers, and Eddie tugs at his arm, urging him up from the chair he’s got pulled up to Christopher’s bed. He lets Eddie guide him from the room, but when Eddie tries to ease him onto the couch, he digs his heels into the floor, and Eddie turns to him, brows furrowed.

“Buck—”

“—when were you planning on telling me I’m second on Christopher’s list of emergency contacts?”

Buck doesn’t miss the deep, calculated sigh Eddie breathes, and he opts to remain standing when Eddie sinks down onto the couch, only watching wordlessly as Eddie runs fingers through his damp hair.

“It was Chris’s idea.”

Buck blinks slowly. “What?”

“After the tsunami. When we were leaving the hospital, he mentioned how you saved him. He said he wanted you to be the person who comes to save him again.” Eddie pauses, rubs smally at the shirt fabric just above his chest. “I resisted at first—I told Christopher we couldn’t ask something that big of you, but I’ve seen countless times since then how far you’ll go for him, so I called and had you added second on the list.”

Eddie takes in a low breath, and Buck’s mutely envious because he can’t do the same.

“If I can’t get to him, it needs to be you.”

Buck’s struggling to pick something to focus on. His heart wants to chase the heat of Eddie’s words, yet the guilt, as it always is, is an overpowering force that leaves him shaking his head, backing up until the back of his leg hits the coffee table.

“It can’t be me.” He watches Eddie’s face fall, but Eddie still nods, understanding even now.

“I get it. I should have asked first. I know it’s a big responsibility—”

“—what?” Buck shakes his head again, crosses his arms. “It’s not the responsibility. You know I would do absolutely anything for that kid. It’s the fact that it’s my fault he ended up in the hospital today.”

Eddie cocks his head to the side, lips in a firm line, and Buck knows this look well—it’s Eddie’s way of signaling for Buck to continue, knowing well that Buck will finish on his own, that he doesn’t need verbal prompts to guide him toward his point.

“He was playing firefighter with one of his friends at school, and he fell down a step.”

The silence that follows feels thick enough to clog Buck’s lungs. He wants to sit—his legs are shaking, but if he sits, he can’t flee as fast, and he just knows Eddie’s going to ask him to leave, to not come back. And, Buck thinks, Eddie should. Eddie should yell at him for filling Christopher’s mind with stories from work, for encouraging this imaginative behavior that dropped him onto a hospital bed.

“Is that it?” Eddie says instead, calm, and Buck frowns, jaw opening and closing, struggling for words.

“I mean, I’m waiting for the part where you tell me how this is your fault,” Eddie clarifies, and Buck sinks onto the coffee table at this, not trusting his legs to hold him upright.

“Eddie, I’m constantly telling him stories from work, glorifying the job, painting all of these verbal, detailed images that fill his mind and plant ideas.”

“And you think I don’t?”

“Eddie—”

“—Buck, we have the same job. If Chris asks me what I did at work, I tell him. I spare him the calls that don’t go in our favor, but otherwise, I tell him.”

Buck blinks slowly, mind operating around 30% capacity, and Eddie leans forward, cupping a hand to Buck’s knee.

“No one’s at fault. Kid’s got one hell of an imagination.”

“Wait, hold on. You’re not mad?” Buck expected yelling. He expected to get kicked out of Eddie’s house, and yet, Eddie’s calm before him, relaxed, a little tired around the edges, but he’s showing no signs that he’s seconds from blowing up.

“There’s nothing to be mad about.”

Buck can only blink at Eddie. He’s faintly aware that his eyes are watering, and then Eddie’s pulling him back up by the arm.

“Okay, we all know by now that you get sappy when you’re tired.”

Buck stops in the doorway when Eddie steps into the bedroom, watching as Eddie pulls back the covers and motions toward the bed. He shakes his head, one hand gripping tightly at the doorframe.

“Eddie, I’m not taking your bed. You should be with Chris. I’ll go—”

“—Chris will want you here when he wakes up. Plus, it doesn’t take but basic math to realize you’re working on only four hours of sleep after a 24, so you’d be doing everyone a favor by shutting up and getting in the damn bed.”

“Eddie.”

“Buck.”

Buck holds Eddie’s gaze, breaking it after a few, heavy moments with a weighted sigh. He shuffles toward the bed, kicking off his sandals and climbing in on the side farthest from the door, knowing that the side closest to the door is reserved for Eddie, to accommodate Eddie’s needs to be the first to act if something happens.

The bed is heaven against his sore body, and the second his head hits the pillow, he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. The adrenaline is fully fleeing now, leaving him exhausted to the core in more ways than one. He blinks slowly, watching as Eddie climbs into the other side of the bed, sighing loudly, and he rolls toward Eddie, studying the way Eddie gingerly rubs at his chest for the second time.

“You give your oxygen mask to someone during the house fire?” Buck asks around a yawn, and Eddie nods.

“It wasn’t for long.”

“You didn’t get checked over.” It’s not a question; Buck knows, based on the sight of Eddie arriving at the hospital looking rough for wear and donned in full gear, but Eddie still responds.

“No, but I’m fine.”

Buck forces himself up on one elbow, frown deep, brows furrowed. “You should get checked out now. I can call Hen—”

“—did you forget I was a field medic?” Eddie arches a brow, and Buck sinks back against the pillow.

“No, you always find a time to remind me. You can’t check yourself over, though.”

“And how many times have you ignored a fractured rib because you ‘checked yourself over?’” Eddie fires back, and Buck groans, draping an arm over his eyes.

They fall silent, and Buck’s body is urging him to give in to the fatigue draping over him. Still, he can’t fully settle. The adrenaline of the last hour and a half is a flame that’s almost completely burned out. Still, it flickers smally, and he rolls onto his side, watching Eddie.

“The bruise on Christopher’s side. We should—”

“—I looked, and we iced it until he fell asleep. Now, please shut up and sleep.”

#911 fox #9-1-1 fox #buddie #fanfic #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #christopher diaz #Bobby Nash #whump #whumpfic #op is 100% not a dr #my writing #my 911 writing

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delicioussshame · 3 years

Text

And now, for something a bit different. Set in the Sugar Baby AU.

Shang Qinghua cannot believe Shen Yuan’s gall. How can he, a very unproductive member of society, dares to criticize Shang Qinghua’s output? At least he contributes something, unlike some people who are paid to look pretty.

And, apparently, do more than that now.

Good for him, really. Shang Qinghua has heard his fair share of horror stories about Luo Binghe, but since Shen Yuan cannot stop singing his praises in that oblivious way of his, he cannot be that bad.

Plus, you know, Luo Binghe is very, very hot. Hot enough that even Shen Yuan, famous for his ability to ignore even the most blatant double entendre, cannot deny it. Shang Qinghua can imagine much worst fates than having to fuck him.

Now, if Shang Qinghua could get him to share all the juicy details, he’s sure it would make for great inspiration.

Not that there is much chance of that happening, not with the way Shen Yuan clams up as soon as Shang Qinghua so much as hints about his sex life.

Shen Yuan is a hypocrite, that’s what he is. He sure isn’t shy about complaining about Shang Qinghua’s sex scenes, or every aspect of Shang Qinghua’s writing.

Well, Shang Qinghua isn’t going to let him get away with it. He’s going to hear about it too! He just has to-

“What are you doing.”

Shang Qingua drops his phone in his haste to shove it down his pockets, so he gets to scramble under his desk like an idiot right in front of his boss. Fucking great. “Nothing! I wasn’t doing anything!”

Mobei-Jun’s angry growl has no right to be this sexy. “You’re supposed to be working. Get to it.”

Shang Qinghua sits back at his desk as fast as possible, randomly pulling a file off his desk while opening one excel spreadsheet or another. “I will! I’ll do it! I’m doing it now! I’m sorry!” That’s what Shang Qinghua gets for maintaining an acquaintance with an old friend who doesn’t have to worry about office hours.

Then again, this is kind of his job? Mobei-Jun wanted him to keep an eye out for anything useful on Luo Binghe, so he’s technically not slacking! “Actually, I was just messaging Shen Yuan, trying to get the info you asked for! He’s not very open, but I’m working on it!” He doesn’t think Shen Yuan will ever give him something Mobei-Jun would benefit from, but not for the reasons he’d think. From the way Shen Yuan complains about Luo Binghe’s general disinterest in the business he’s somehow managing like he was born into it, which he very much wasn’t, it wouldn’t even cross Luo Binghe’s mind to keep Shen Yuan informed on the ins and outs.

So Shang Qinghua is trying to find a way to get Shen Yuan to ask for said intel, cause he has a feeling Luo Binghe would tell him everything without a second thought. For someone who decided to pay their sex partner instead of wooing them, which someone like Luo Binghe could certainly have managed, he seems utterly besotted.

“Can’t we just pay him for it? He’s fine with being a whore; why wouldn’t he accept cash for info?”

Shang Qinghua winces and ducks instinctively to evade the slap Shen Yuan would have given him if he’d called him a whore in his presence. “It’s not quite like that. Shen Yuan’s relationship with Luo Binghe is complicated. Yes, Luo Binghe is paying for him, but from what I’ve gathered, it was more to skip the wooing and get to the good parts faster.” At least that’s what Shang Qinghua thinks happened. Shen Yuan, again, isn’t the most open about the details.

Plus, Shang Qinghua can’t say it didn’t work. Luo Binghe managed to get Shen Yuan living with him and doing nothing but being available to him 24/7. That has to count as a success.

Mobei-Jun seems baffled. “You can do that?”

Shang Qinghua shrugs. “Most people wouldn’t be into it, but I can get behind it. If someone with Luo Binghe’s wealth and looks told me they wanted to finance my lifestyle in exchange of sex, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Good life, here I come!”

Shang Qinghua then remembers he’s talking to his boss and not one of his former college buddies. “Ha ha, not that I really would! I am devoted to my job! I wouldn’t leave it, so please don’t fire me!” He needs the money to live!

“I’d pay you.”

Shang Qinghua startles for a second, before his brain catches up to reality. “Ha ha, that’s a funny joke, Boss.” He doesn’t know why Mobei-Jun chose now to try to develop a sense of humor, but he’s not surprised that when he decides to do so, it’s at Shang Qinghua’s expense.

“Not a joke.” Mobei-Jun takes out his wallets and pulls out what has to be at least a couple thousands yuan, which he waves in the air almost threateningly. “Take it.”

Shang Qinghua is utterly flummoxed. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Shang Qinghua leans over the desk and tentatively takes the money.

In exchange, strong arms grab his waist, lifts him off the chair he was just sitting him like he could do it in his sleep, settles him on the desk and kisses him until Shang Qinghua has to push him back to breathe, because he cannot use his nose and his mouth at the same time right now. Not enough brain cells left.

“The hell?” says Shang Qinghua with all the eloquence he has left.

Then, his brain catches up with his mouth. If, for some unfathomable reason, Mobei-Jun has decided Shang Qinghua was worthy of him spending his money, Shang Qinghua will do the smartest thing he’s ever done and let him.

Why Mobei-Jun just didn’t use his words and tell Shang Qinghua he wanted him, Shang Qinghua will probably never know. It’s not like Shang Qinghua would have told him no. No matter what Shen Yuan says, he’s not stupid. The embodiment of all his fantasies wants to fuck him? Shang Qinghua is into that.

Oh god, Shen Yuan. He’s going to have to explain to him that latest development, will he?

…Naaah. He doesn’t need to know for now.

Anyway, what is there to explain?

…Is there something to explain? Mobei-Jun hasn’t spoken since Shang Qinghua freed himself, so maybe he’s reconsidering? Shit, maybe Shang Qinghua is a terrible kisser? Is he a terrible kisser? Is Mobei-Jun reconsidering? Of course he’s reconsidering. He’s not stupid either.

This train of thoughts is stopped by Mobei-Jun’s growling, grabbing his shoulders, pushing him down on the desk and devouring his mouth.

Shang Qinghua probably isn’t a terrible kisser then! Yes! Also Mobei-Jun isn’t reconsidering, so double yes!

That’s a good thing, because he’s pretty certain he’s going to need the money to replace the shirt Mobei-Jun is apparently very offended by, if the way he ripped it off Shang Qinghua, sending buttons flying everywhere, can be believed. Not that he cares about the shirt. Mobei-Jun can destroy all of them if he wants to. Especially if it’s always following by Mobei-Jun’s teeth getting very familiar with his chest.

Or the rest of him. Mobei-Jun is so lucky Shang Qinghua is both incredibly thirsty for him and suffering from long-term celibacy. He’s definitely willing to go despite the aggressive lack of foreplay.

Not that he can imagine a moment where Mobei-Jun almost tearing his pants open to get his mouth on his cock wouldn’t be welcomed. Shang Qinghua is always down for that. Very, very down for that.

Shang Qinghua balls his hands into fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, to stop himself from holding Mobei-Jun’s head. Mobei-Jun might bite them off.

Shang Qinghua also bites his tongue hard enough to bleed. The building is nice enough, but Shang Qinghua can be very loud. The last thing he wants is for some underling to come running and find them like this. He would feel guilty to have caused a death.

Soon enough, another pressing concern makes itself known. “Boss, ah, please, you should let me go.” Shang Qingqiu has never even dreamed of Mobei-Jun blowing him, but he sure doesn’t seem like the type to swallow, and he wants to keep his cock in working order. He might get to use it more later.

Mobei-Jun glares at him over his cock, which has no business being this hot. Shang Qinghua is sure he felt him twitch and leak on his tongue.

Hey, if Shang Qinghua is wrong and Mobei-Jun is the type to swallow, more power to him. Shang Qinghua isn’t exactly going to complain.

Shang Qinghua whites out when he finally comes, and then probably does so again when he opens his eyes and is faced with Mobei-Jun staring at him, a little whitish drop on the corner of his mouth.

Fuck, he just got blown by Mobei-Jun. When did his life become so great?

Mobei-Jun kisses him again with no less urgency, which Shang Qinghua can sympathize with. He hasn’t done anything for his poor boss, has he? Time to remediate that.

___________

Shang Qinghua blinks repeatedly, trying to keep himself awake after the many, many rounds he’s just gone through.

His back is going to hurt like hell, isn’t it? And not just his back. He’ll probably be out of commission for days.

Doesn’t matter. So worth it. Even if it was a one-time thing, it’d still be worth it.

Is it a one-time thing? Does Shang Qinghua still have a job? Two jobs?

He should ask, right? It’s probably the right time to do so. Even Mobei-Jun probably is in a good mood after getting laid. “Boss?”

Mobei-Jun makes a noise Shang Qinghua decides to interpret as encouragement for him to continue. “Am I your sugar baby now? Do I have to come to work tomorrow?”

Mobei-Jun frowns.

Well, the whole thing was pretty spontaneous. There is probably no plan.

“You’re working tomorrow.”

Ahh, too bad. Well, it was nice while it lasted.

“I have to get you a replacement before you go.”

Shang Qinghua straightens up. “Just to be clear, that’s because you’re going to bankroll me personally, right? Not because I just lost my job for being unprofessional, right?”

Mobei-Jun nods.

Success! Shang Qinghua just won at life! He'll finally get to write whatever he wants instead of what sells! And he’s got a scorching not-boyfriend on top of it! Take that, Shen Yuan! You’re not the only one who can attract crazy rich guys! “Am I moving in with you? Or are we just not-dating? I’ll do whatever you want, no problem! Or wear whatever you want, cause this shirt is so dead I’m not sure how I’m going to leave this room, but I don’t care! You can do it again if you want to!”

Mobei-Jun throws his blazer in Shang Qinghua’s face like he’s an especially rude shoujo manga love interest. “Put this on. I’ll get back to you for the details, but you’ll be moving in with me.”

“Okay! I’ll be waiting!” He’ll wait forever if he has to. So worth it.

He’ll have to remember to buy Shen Yuan something to thank him for making this possible.

He’ll probably order him a bunch of the weirdest sex toys he can find and have them delivered anonymously to Luo Binghe. Shen Yuan will thank him someday.

Okay, he never will, but Shang Qinghua will know in his heart he did right by his friend.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #MoShang #That AU where LBH and SY fail to negociate their sugar relationship

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agathasangel · 3 years

Text

leave everything behind but me- part 1 (diane sherman x fem!reader)

Warnings: Diane is still extremely dangerous, TW for stalking, drugs, and illness (also brief vomit mention), hurt/comfort with a bit more hurt, this series may end up going in an NSFW direction but there isn’t any here, I really don’t know exactly where it’s going.

AU where pretty much everything in the movie is the same except the very last scene. Diane gets out of jail but isn’t able to find or contact Chloe. This is gonna be a series and probably way too long (I’m already writing part 2). Also I know there are a lot of Diane fics that are like this, sorry about that. But this is really fun to write so oh well.

Summary: You finally got the courage to run away and start a new life. Diane gets out of jail. She can’t find Chloe, but created a bond with another girl, you. And she would never, ever lose you. After all, you need her.

You were finally doing this. You were leaving your home behind and never looking back. You never had a good relationship with your parents, and now that you had graduated High School your parents were constantly threatening to kick you out. So instead, you decided to just leave. You had found a town on the east coast (across the country from your home state) and you had saved all your money from your job for the bus tickets, and found a roommate online, Anna. until you had finally announced to your parents that you were moving out. They acted relieved, like a huge burden was just taken off of their plate. But you knew they were secretly upset that they no longer would have someone to blame every inconvenience on.

You sat on the bus, listening to music and looking out the window. You noticed a silver minivan that happened to have been following you almost all day and on two different buses. You wondered where the driver of the minivan was going. Maybe whoever the driver was was running away too, but was lucky enough to have a car.

The bus stopped in Chicago, about halfway to your destination, and you had an eight hour layover that you had to manage to stay awake for despite the fact that you hadn’t slept in the past 24 hours. You decided to go to a cafe that was next to the bus station to get some coffee to pass the time and keep you up.

“I’ll just have a large coffee with cream and 1 sugar, please.”

“Great! That’ll be three-fifty.”

You searched in your wallet before realizing that you were completely out of cash that wasn’t going towards your bus ticket or room.

“...never mind”

“Hey, I can pay for you, don’t worry about it.” Said the woman standing behind you.

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“Don’t worry, its no big deal. Just come and sit with me.”

You had time. Besides, you wanted someone to talk to and this woman was quite attractive.

“Sure. Thank you.”

The woman ordered and led you to a table.

“So, what’s your name?”

“I’m (y/n). And you?”

You heard the barista say “Two coffees for Diane?” and the woman got up

“I guess that answers that?” you said.

Diane walked over to get the coffees and stirred in the cream and sugar into both of them.

She gave you one of the coffees and said “Yes, my name is Diane Sherman. Are you from around here?”

“Oh no, I’m from the west coast. I’m on a bus trip, moving across the country. Fresh start, you know. And you?”

“I have been too, actually. Well, except I’ve been driving. Why do you need a fresh start?”

“My parents and I have a rough relationship. I just graduated High School and I didn’t feel like there was a reason to stay. What about you?”

“I’m sorry about that, (y/n). I actually lost my daughter recently, I’ve been incredibly lonely. I’m hoping for a new start, and some new connections.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Diane, that’s terrible.” You wondered what happened to her daughter, but thought it was best not to pry into this woman’s life.

“I’ll get through it. Maybe I’ll find someone else I can take care of. Someone who really needs it.”

Diane asked you more questions about your family, life, interests, everything. You felt like this woman had a genuine interest in you that you never felt from anyone else. You liked it. But as you talked you realized that the coffee wasn’t waking you up, if anything you felt even more tired. Maybe you just had to wait.

“I haven’t slept in so long, I’m so tired. Thank you for getting this coffee for me. It was nice to meet you, Diane.” You said, sad that your paths may never cross again.

“(Y/n), wait.”

You turned back to her.

“I have an idea. I have a motel room with two beds for tonight. Why don’t you sleep there and we forget about the buses, you can just ride with me.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve bought a house and I’m going there, but I can take you wherever you’d like, there’s no rush. I understand you may be suspicious as a younger woman when an older person asks you to ride with them and stay in their hotel room but I promise I only ask because, well honestly, I’m lonely and need someone to take care of.”

It was probably the sleep deprivation, but you believed her. You got into her silver minivan and drove to a nearby motel. When you got in the room you immediately dropped all your stuff and flopped down onto the bed, exhausted.

“Hey, sweetie, you can shower in the morning if you want to but you should at least change into pajamas.” said Diane. You found the energy to take your clothes off and put on an oversized t-shirt as you listened to Diane sing in the shower. You fell asleep to the sounds of the running shower and the older woman’s slightly off-key singing.

When you woke up, Diane was reading and sipping some coffee. You noticed she had also gotten you one.

“Morning, sweetheart. Now, I’m not in much of a rush to get out of here so just take your time. Drink your coffee and then take a shower, alright?”

“Sounds good!” You said, starting to drink your coffee.

“Great. I’m looking forward to spending more time with you, (y/n). I think maybe we were destined to meet. You without loving parents and me, in desperate need of someone to love and care for.”

“Maybe..”

You couldn’t explain why, but you did like this strange woman. She seemed kind, and she was very pretty, which couldn’t have hurt. The only reason you said yes to her last night was because you needed sleep so badly but now that you were fully rested, you couldn’t say you regretted it. You walked to the shower and felt a bit lightheaded. While you were in the shower you started to feel weak and you finally fell over.

As soon as she heard the thud of your body to the shower floor, Diane ran into the bathroom.

“(Y/N)? What happened? Are you ok?”

“I... I fell... I don’t know why.” You said, a bit embarrassed of the woman seeing your naked body like this

“Ok, let’s get you dried off and dressed, then I think we have to get some food into you.” and Diane helped you up, helped you dry off and took out your most comfortable-looking clothes and put them on you. This whole thing made you feel like a child, but you almost didn’t mind. It’s not like you’ve ever been taken care of like this before.

“Lean on me if you need to, I’ll come back for the luggage after you’re in the car.” You held onto Diane’s arm all the way to the front seat of the car.

“Just wait here, okay love?”

She got both your suitcase and hers and but them back in the car. You noticed that her suitcase that was in your room was not the only one she had, and she in fact had several suitcases, and lots of bags. She was older and more established than you, of course she had more things than you did.

She drove until you found a diner where the two of you could get breakfast. She helped you out of the car and told her to at least hold her hand while you walked.

“I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, maybe eating something will make you feel better.”

“Yeah, I hope so. I’ve never felt like this before, I really hope I’m not sick.”

“I don’t think that’s it.”

While you ate you talked, and Diane gave you a pill that she said might make you feel better. You took it and you did start feeling a little bit better.

“Is it working? Do you feel ready to go?”

“I think so”

And so you left the diner with Diane feeling a little bit better. She kept her hands on you to guide you as you went to the car, just in case.

“I’m ok now. But thanks, Diane.”

“Of course.” She grabbed your hand for a second and smiled at you and your heart skipped a beat. Why did you feel this way?

Diane drove for several hours until you fell asleep again. When she woke you up you were in a hotel parking lot in a small town you didn’t recognize.

“Where are we?”

“I think we’re somewhere in central Pennsylvania. We have a lot more driving to do, but it’s getting late. Let’s get some dinner and get you to bed.”

That night was relaxing and easy. Diane ordered room service and you ate while sitting on her bed together and watching a movie. The two of you began to cuddle and you ended up falling asleep in the older woman’s arms. When you stirred early the next morning she was still holding you.

When you woke up for real, Diane brought you some coffee.

Diane got back on the road and she asked you where you planned on staying. You told her you were going to stay with a girl named Anna who you talked to online. As the car ride progressed, the weak feeling you had the other day started to come back.

“That’s ok. You can stay with me tonight if you want.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do. I want to make sure you’re ok, let me take care of you.” You figured that if Diane were dangerous, she would have tried to do something to you by now since you’ve basically been alone with her for almost two days. How bad could it be?

It turned out that the house Diane lived very close to Anna anyway, so you decided why not.

You drove another seven or so hours from the hotel all the way to a small house in a very cute little town not too far from where you had planned on settling in.

“This is it.”

You got out of the car and brought your stuff into the house. It was a cute, small place that was already furnished. You and Diane both looked around. There were two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a living room and kitchen.

“It’s a good thing I got a two-bedroom, I guess. You can stay here as long as you’d like.”

“Thank you”“

“I’m gonna go out and bring some more stuff in and then I’ll make us some tea, does that sound good?”

“Sure.”

The two of you sat on the couch and talked while you drank the tea Diane made you. The tea didn’t taste bad, but it didn’t taste like anything you’ve had before. You told her more about your family life after she asked.

“Your parents were so lucky,” said Diane, who was getting a bit emotional, “to have a child as healthy and beautiful and sweet as you. There are so many people who would give anything to have what your parents took for granted.”

“I don’t know, maybe it is my fault. Maybe I was just a bad kid. Maybe I was hard to like, or dumb, or-”

“I don’t think you’re any of those things. And I’m sorry that you believe that, because it’s not true.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

You went to bed that night in your room and Diane in hers. When you woke up you felt weak and sick to your stomach. You guessed that Diane was wrong and you were in fact coming down with something.

“Diane!” You felt bad for possibly waking her up, but you’d feel even worse if you threw up on the sheets, and you didn’t know if you could make it to the bathroom. So you did it. She immediately came running to you.

“Are you ok, sweetie? What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m sick. Do you have a bucket or something?”

“Yes. Just one second.”

She left and very quickly brought back a bucket for you.

“I hope I haven’t gotten you sick too.”

“Don’t worry about that, I rarely get sick. Just let me take care of you.”

And you did. For the next few days as she looked for teaching jobs she nursed you back to health. Well, almost-health, at least. You weren’t having stomachaches or throwing up anymore but you still felt weak. She gave you pills and lots of them, and some might have had some bad side effects. All the pain medication she gave you almost had a numbing effect on your body. Anna had completely stopped responding to you and you worried she didn’t want to be roommates anymore, not like you could be on your own right now anyway in the state you were in. You needed Diane to take care of you. She was being interviewed for a position as a science teacher at the local High School but other than working on all of the application material she had all the free time in the world to be with you.

“Anna said she found another roommate.”

“Hey, don’t worry about that alright? You’re still sick and I really don’t mind you just... staying here and living with me. Besides, I really think I’m going to get this job and if I do I’ll easily be able to support the both of us.”

“Diane, you don’t have to... I applied for some jobs already.”

“None of which you can do when you’re sick, now please lie back down. I know you feel bad for letting me take care of you and baby you so much, but you don’t have to. I’ve already told you that I like having someone to take care of. And I know you like it when I take care of you too.”

And you hated to admit it, but she was right. Despite how horrible you felt physically, you enjoyed your time with Diane. You started doing a lot of fun things together. You both enjoyed yourselves, and Diane sometimes told you that she felt like she had a daughter again. She made you feel loved. You still had your own bed, but you often fell asleep on the couch or in Diane’s bed while the two of you cuddled.

“I love you, (y/n). My baby.” Diane said as you started to drift off on the couch with her that night.

#diane sherman x reader #diane sherman #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson fics #my fics

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byunbaekby · 3 years

Text

Apartment B23—part twenty-one.

synopsis: christmas eve, and jeno’s sick? how will y/n help?

send an ask/message to be added to the tag list!

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When you approach Jeno’s door, you press your ear against the wood, listening for any possible signs of life on the other side.

He’s probably asleep, and you’d hate to interrupt his much-needed slumber (you’d feel so guilty if you did), but something tells you that he’s not just sleeping. For some reason, it feels as though there’s something wrong.

Though the opposite side of the door is quiet, you crack the door open just the slightest, an audible creak in the air. But besides that, nothing. When you peek inside, there Jeno lays in his bed, face barely illuminated by the dull yellow lighting of his bedside lamp. There’s an oily sheen on his forehead, and aided by the deadly silence of the apartment, his erratic breathing is even more pronounced in your ears. You frown.

He’s sick.

And on Christmas Eve, what’s his luck?

You open the door fully, approaching his bed and without restraints or hesitation, placing a hand over his forehead. He’s burning up.

By now, perhaps feeling your presence, Jeno’s awoken, his eyes sliding open. They widen slightly at the sight of you next to him, and you beat him to his question. “You’re burning up,” you tell him, voice soft.

All he does is groan (though he gives a congested sniff). “I know. And my head hurts like hell. I’ve been trying to sleep it off.”

“For a biology major, you seem to have made some bad choices with your body,” you sigh, and gesture for him to stand up. “Your room is too hot, come to the living room and I’ll turn the fan on for you.”

He seems to hesitate for a moment, perhaps thinking about arguing with you until he visually comes to the decision that putting up a fight would be a bad idea in his state. So, your single remaining roommate sits up in his bed, clutching his temple for a moment before beginning to step out of bed.

While you leave to retrieve the electric fan from your bedroom, Jeno walks into the living room and throws his body onto the couch. When you return, he’s already half-asleep once more. With you, the electric fan and a thermometer.

You manage to check his temperature, and he’s burning up. “Geez, Jeno, you should have told me.”

“I’m fine.” His stubbornness brings a sigh out of you.

“You have a headache? I think I used the last of my tylenol, and—” You open the medicine cabinet. “—we don’t have any cold medicine. I’ll go out to the convenience store down the street. I’ll be back.”

As you’re grabbing your wallet and slipping on your shoes, Jeno protests. “You shouldn’t go alone. I’ll go too.”

“Jeno,” you say, voice authoritative as you watch your roommate struggle to sit up and stand. “You’re sick. It’s across the street, if I’m not back in fifteen minutes, then you can come looking, okay?”

His eyebrows furrow, and you realize this is the first time you’ve seen him without his round glasses. “Fine,” he relents quietly. “Just.. be careful.”

Then he coughs, and you give him a small smile. “I will. I know you’ll nag my ear off if I’m not.”

The 24-hour convenience store really is just across the street from your apartment complex (Korea is overrun with them, thankfully), and by the time you walk out, you have a bottle of cold medicine and some chamomile tea, because you read that chamomile is good for headaches. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket. When you pull it out, you read Haechan’s text:

wanna hang out? some of the dance majors are throwin a last minute christmas eve party.

Your lips purse, but you quickly type in your response.

When you enter the apartment again, you meet Jeno’s gruff voice. To your surprise, he’s not asleep. “That was eighteen minutes.”

“Then you failed your duties as a roommate to come looking for me.” You tease, though carefully. Walking over to the couch where he lays, you pull out the bottle of cold medicine. “Here, take some of this. And I’ll make you some tea.”

“Tea?”

You answer him from the kitchen. “Mhm, chamomile. Internet says it’s good for headaches.”

Your roommate's voice is soft from the living room when he responds. “... It’s also my favorite.”

“Oh…” you say gently, before a soft smile bites at your lips. “Lucky guess.”

Some time later you’re on the floor next to where he rests on the couch, both of you cupping your warm mugs with both hands. There’s a comfortable silence, the kind of comfort you never thought you could experience with Jeno, who had always been intimidating and overbearing to you.

You’re staring at the tea in your cup, observing the tiny ripples that form in the water with each minuscule movement of yours when suddenly, his voice breaks the silence. “Don’t you miss home?”

The question takes you by surprise, but a gentle simper spreads over your lips as you nod slowly. The heat radiates from your mug into your two hands, mirroring the warmth in your smile. “I do. All the time.”

“What do you miss?”

Though you think for a moment, there isn’t a lot of ponder. “California is… warm. What’s considered cold there is like… a sunny day in Korea,” you chuckle, taking a sip of the warm liquid which floods your body with heat. “Sometimes I forget what the heat feels like… what living a warm life is like.”

Jeno seems to consider your words for a minute, and though he doesn’t say anything, there’s a level of understanding. “Then… why didn’t you go back for break?”

A sigh leaves your lips, though you don’t really mean to let it. “I guess you could say home’s… lost the heat I once loved. I’m looking for warmth somewhere else now. And even if it’s in a cold place like this, I just need something new without feeling like I’m missing something. A change of pace, you know?” A moment of silence fills the air, growing pregnant for a few seconds before you shake your head. “That probably doesn’t make sense, sorry.”

“No,” Jeno says, his sickly voice suddenly replaced by that of a familiar strong tone. “I understand. It’s kind of like… you’re searching for something but it feels like you’re just running away. You’re just trying to learn how to be without what you used to have.”

A gentle breath leaves you. “Yeah.”

“I get it.”

Your gaze shifts back down to your now empty cup. “Sometimes I wish I could just bring the things I love here, instead of having to go back there and face everything bad.”

“You can,” is Jeno’s answer.

Suddenly feeling heavy in your chest with the topic at hand, you pivot and instead look up to Jeno, who’s still laying on the couch beside you. “You know, it’s nice talking to you, and not… yelling at each other or screaming over text.”

The look in your roommate’s eyes is indecipherable, but he offers the smallest smile you’ve ever seen on him, like the ghost of a grin that has faded over decades. “Yeah, it is.”

And so you talk. You talk for more hours, over another cup of tea and another dose of cold medicine. Then when the time comes, you find yourself asleep on the couch opposite Jeno’s, feeling more comfortable than you had in any bed since you came to Korea.

If you had been awake when the clock struck midnight, you would have heard Jeno’s gentle goodnight: “Merry christmas, Y/N.”

#dreamwritersnet #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #nct dream social media au #neothestars #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #jeno x reader #nct fluff #jeno fluff #nct angst #nct fake texts #nct dream fake texts #jeno angst #nct social media audio

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kpophours · 4 years

Text

Way to You

➵ Stray Kids: Bang Chan x fem. reader / one shot, college AU, friends to lovers AU / fluff

➵ warnings: slight cursing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, a teeny tiny bit sexual suggestiveness (nothing explicit)

➵ word count: 5.7k

You are in trouble.

You are in really big trouble.

Staring at the sleeping person beside you, you think about what to do next.

Maybe you could move to a different country, take on the maiden name of your mother and become a dog sitter. You like dogs! Love them, even. Cats too, you’re not picky.

Or maybe you could apply to be one of those people being shot into space to colonize Mars. It’s probably chill up there - not many people, and even better: no Chan. Probably no wifi too, though. But well, you like reading so you could always pass time by bringing enough books, right?

Or maybe, as an easier and far less dramatic solution: you could just pretend to not remember anything from last night - honestly, from the way your head is pounding right now, it doesn’t even seem that far fetched.

For now you decide to just slide out of bed before the man beside you wakes from his deep slumber, and to flee from his house, hoping no one is going to see you. No witnesses, no crime, right?

At least you’re still wearing a shirt and most of your underwear, so … it could be worse.

Probably.

Right?!

You take in a deep breath and carefully lift the blanket, slowly wiggling towards the edge of the bed. Before you can successfully escape though, Chan beside you groans, and wraps one arm around your waist to pull you close to his own warm body again. You almost squeal, but manage to press your lips together to stifle the noise.

Chan’s breathing is soft and steady - so for now, he’s still asleep, but you need to get away from him as quickly as possible. So you try to escape for a second time, carefully prying his arm from your body and placing it back on the mattress. This time, you successfully slide out of bed, silently landing on your feet and almost losing your balance - you are in desperate need of some water, it seems. Dehydration is no joke, kids. Quietly, you slip into your jeans and grab your bra dangling from a bedpost. You also look for your purse but after being unable to locate it, you finally tiptoe out of the room. As soon as you’ve managed to close the door behind you, you exhale, relief spreading through your whole body. You’re fine, you’re good, you’re almost out of here! You pretty much run towards the bathroom, and suppress a groan when you see your tired hangover face staring back at you in the mirror. After drinking some water straight from the tap, you wash off the pitiful rest of your makeup, put your hair up into a ponytail and deem yourself ready to leave the solidarity of the bathroom again - and to face whoever’s already awake.

The frat house is almost eerily quiet at this time of day, so you try not to make a sound while sneaking downstairs, cringing whenever one of the steps creaks under your weight. You sigh in relief when you’ve finally made it downstairs, and begin to smile when you spot your purse dangling from the back of a chair. To your delight, the keys to your flat, your wallet and phone are all still in there. Maybe the world isn’t as bad of a place as you’re sometimes making it out to be. “Morning.” You squeal and turn around, hand clutching your chest. Hyunjin chuckles when he sees your shocked expression, and silently toasts you with the mug he is holding in one hand. “Well don’t you look lovely so early in the morning.”, he teases, and you stick out your tongue at him. “I’m very sorry to inform you that not everyone has been blessed with a perfect morning face, oh dear Adonis.”, you just answer, and he grins. “Want some coffee”?, he asks, already reaching for a second mug, but halts in his movement when he sees your hesitant expression. Your eyes slide towards the stairwell and back at the young man in front of you again. “I- I should go.”, you say, and he just nods, hand falling away from the coffee pot. “Sure. Have a nice day, then.” For some reason, he seems disappointed, but you try not to give it too much thought. So you just smile at him, before ducking out into the hallway to grab your shoes and jacket, quickly leaving the frat house behind. It’s a cold morning for early autumn, mist hanging between the trees and making it difficult to see, and you bury both hands in your pockets while walking towards the direction of your flat. It’s weirdly quiet, and you’re almost regretting your decision to leave the house so abruptly, even though it was probably the more… sensible thing to do. Chan and you have a long, complicated history - missed opportunities, bad timing, broken hearts. For some reason, it just never seems to work between you guys. There’s always either another person standing between you, or some miscommunication happens, or he is suddenly leaving to spend a term abroad in Australia or or or … the list goes on and on. You’ve never managed to find your way to each other.

Yesterday was his welcome back party, and as part of the “inner circle”, you’d of course been invited to join the surprise gathering as well. You truly love and adore all the boys living at the frat house, even though you want to smack Minho pretty much 24/7, really dislike Hyunjin’s perfect face and superior smirk whenever he plays beer pong against you, and are almost a bit annoyed at Jeongin’s cuteness (you would probably let him get away with literal murder). You also can’t believe the amount of chicken Seungmin manages to eat in a day, and have long lost count of how many times you’ve had to drag Changbin out of the cave he calls his room so he’d finally see some sunlight again and get that vitamin D. No wonder he never grew past the 1.70m mark. Felix is the only one you’d never say anything against, the man being too sweet (and cute) for his own good. He is just sunshine personified. You’d legit burn down cities to protect him. You had met the seven young men during your freshman year, all thanks to your then new roommate and your now best friend Jisung. The others had pretty much accepted you with open arms, and almost just as quickly, you had fallen head over heels for Chan. But who can blame you? Not only is he incredibly handsome, but also funny, witty, smart and always down to clown. Your perfect man in the shape of a talented, beautiful goofball. And he seems to be more than interested in you as well, often shamelessly flirting with you, touching you more than necessary and generally being a total sweetheart towards you.

And yet - … and yet … for some reason, it just never seems to work between you two. Fate is against you, apparently.

Exhausted, you unlock the front door to the flat you share with Jisung, hoping that he is either still at his girlfriend’s place, or deeply asleep. You need a long hot shower and some alone time afterwards.

And coffee, lots of it. Or tea. One or the other, you’re honestly not picky.

Sadly, fate is against you yet again: Jisung sits at the kitchen table, dark eyes almost entirely hidden by too long hair falling into his handsome face. He should really get a haircut. As soon as he lays eyes on you, he gives you a cheeky smile. “Good moooorning.”, he says, tone of voice way too cheerful so early in the day. You sigh internally, but give him a small smile in return and murmur a greeting back. “You look awful.”, your roommate then states, and you roll your eyes at him. “I guess my exterior reflects my inner self, then.”, you grumble, and take the mug of coffee he is sliding your way with a curt nod of your head. “Rough night?”, he asks, lip twitching. You give him a critical look, gnawing on your lower lip. Jisung had left the party around 1am, his girlfriend getting tired and finally wanting to go home.

So how much does he know?

Knowing the boys … they might have instantly texted him, telling him about you staying the night.

With Chan.

In Chan’s room.

After not having seen him for six months.

After having pretty much confessed to him only seconds before he had to take a cab to get to the airport to leave for his term spent abroad.

What can you say, timing has never been one of your strong suits.

Jisung is still staring at you, obviously waiting for your answer. You snap out of your thoughts and take a sip of coffee. You grimace when the bitter taste hits your tongue; Jisung always likes his coffee a lot stronger than you. Pretty much the only strong thing about him though. “It was… long.”, you finally say, and place the mug back on the kitchen table, “And I really need a shower now.” With that, you quickly leave the kitchen again, ignoring your roommate’s low chuckle.

Oh that bastard so knows.

Meaning you have to add a few names to your death note.

Monday is the worst day of the week.

Monday should just cease to exist. Why can’t the week just begin with a nice, chill Tuesday?

You like Tuesdays. Tuesdays are cool.

Mondays on the other hand… They just don’t sit well with you.

“JISUNG, I SWEAR TO GOD, YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS BEFORE I’M GOING TO BREAK DOWN THIS DAMN DOOR!”, you yell, and continue to hammer your fist against the locked bathroom door.

He’s been in there for almost an hour now, probably using up all the hot water. You can’t believe he’s doing this to you. There’s only about twenty minutes left before you have to leave for your first class, and you definitely need a hot shower and some concealer. Maybe a miracle. Where’s your make-over-sequence when you need it?! Why are you not a young heroine in a quirky rom-com, then you’d probably look perfectly styled all the time. But no, you’ll probably have to go to class with greasy third-day-hair, sweatpants and the biggest eye bags the world has ever seen. Fifty shades of dark circles under your eyes - the perfect movie title should your life ever get turned into one. Probably a solid 10% on Rotten Tomatoes, maybe 15% if the viewers feel generous. Your life just ain’t that interesting so far.

“JI-FUCKING-SUNG!” You kick the door - or well, you want to. Because in that second, your roommate finally decides to open it, so you accidentally kick his shin instead of the wooden door. He yelps, and doubles over in pain. “Hey, I thought you were a pacifist. Violence is never the answer and all that stuff!”, he complains, voice laced with pain, and you feel like, 20% sorry. Or maybe only 15%. “It’s your own fault if you need half an eternity to get ready.”, you scoff, and squeeze past him to get inside the bathroom and to finally take your long awaited shower. “Aren’t you a joy to have around in the morning.”, Jisung just replies, and you flip him off before closing the door into his puffy morning face.

You’re almost late to class, but not because you took too long in the bathroom, oh no. This is Jisung’s fault again - being the annoying parasite that he simply is, he used up the last of your favorite tea, meaning you had to search through the kitchen cabinets to find your less tasty emergency back-up tea. Finding it had taken way too long, because about two weeks ago, Jisung had randomly decided to move everything around inside the cabinets, and now you can’t find shit anymore. He should really get a hobby or two.

You’re out of breath by the time you reach the lecture hall, and almost frozen to death thanks to the temperature dropping way too low last night. Your hair is still wet because you didn’t have time to blow dry it this morning, so you know you’ll look like a crazy witch in approximately half an hour. Having unruly hair is fun. “Hey, Y/N!”, someone yells as soon as you walk through the door, and you jump, almost spilling the back-up tea all over yourself. Thankfully, you manage to maneuver the small thermos flask away from your body, so the hot liquid spills onto the floor instead of your clothes. You shoot a silent apology to the cleaning staff. Your eyes zone in on the person responsible for your near-death-experience, and you groan when Minho flashes you a cheeky smile. It’s way too early to deal with demons, you decide, and are about to turn around and search for a more welcoming or even unfamiliar face in the crowd of students, when Hyunjin appears at your side, mirroring Minho’s gleeful expression.

“Hell’s empty and all the devils are here.”, you mutter under your breath, and Hyunjin laughs, before shoving you towards the empty seat beside Minho. “Stop quoting Shakespeare, you drama queen.”, he just says, and takes the seat on your other side. “I still don’t understand why you had to take the same class as me this term. There are endless other classes you could have chosen. Endless, I’m telling you!”, you mumble, expression grumpy. Minho chuckles. “And rid you of our extremely pleasant company and highly amusing commentary? Never.” You just scoff and open your backpack, rummaging through it until you find your small notebook and pen. Call you old fashioned but you actually like to take notes by hand, eyeing Minho’s sleek MacBook Pro with slight distaste (and maybe a hint of envy). Hyunjin’s doing… better, you guess, because he too is taking notes by hand, but he just has a random assortment of loose paper instead of a bound notebook. You already know he’ll have lost half his notes by the end of the day and will probably ask to borrow yours. Oh that sweet chaos boy.

“How was the rest of your weekend?”, Minho asks, “You were gone by the time we all got up on Saturday, people were really sad and disappointed by your sudden disappearance, you know.” His tone of voice is innocent, too innocent. You know exactly who “people” includes. Oh, you know it way too well. “I had things to do.”, you answer curtly, eyes stubbornly trained at the front of the room where the teacher’s just trying to set up his laptop. You hope he’ll hurry, because you really don't want to continue talking to Hyunjin and Minho. But apparently, the teacher is a hopeless case, looking at the different cables with a big question mark on his face. What is it with boomers and technology, honestly. “Come on, my dude. Please hurry.”, you whisper, watching the man intensely, both eyebrows drawn together. You try to send him mental strength, because he actually looks like he’s about to cry. You’d go and help him if you weren’t sitting at the very back of the lecture hall. Hyunjin pokes your cheek, and you jump. “Answer us, coward.”, he says, sounding way too pleased. “My weekend was fine. The hangover was uncool, but I spent the rest of the day destroying Jisung at Mario Kart and eating greasy food, so it could have been worse. Sunday was uneventful, I just caught up with some of my reading materials for class this week.”, you recap your last two days in a flat voice, “How about you guys?” “Those were the oh-so-important things you “had to do”? Groundbreaking, truly.” You ignore Minho’s sarcasm and begin to play with the cap of your pen. “Well we had to clean the house after Chan’s welcome home party, of course. And then he showed us some of the pictures he took in Australia - there was this one really cute one where he was cuddling a koala, I’m sure you’d love it.”, Hyunjin tells you, and you’re this close to kicking him. How dare he put the mental image of Chan cuddling a koala in your head. You hate how much you love it. Just because you really like koalas of course, this has nothing to do with Chan himself. If you repeat it over and over again, you might actually believe it one day. Probably not. Ugh, Hyunjin and Minho are truly the worst possible friends you could ask for. Who needs enemies when you have friends like these. “Cool.”, you just murmur, and thank the Heavens above when you see that some student has finally taken mercy on your teacher and is helping him set up. Soon after, the lecture begins, and as annoying as Hyunjin and Minho may be, they usually do take their studies seriously, so they finally shut up and leave you be. You sigh in relief, and begin taking notes as well.

You don’t even know why you agreed to come.

You don’t want to be here.

At the frat house.

Again.

You were just here last week, and everyone knows how that ended.

You had managed to avoid seeing Chan all week - not that it was difficult, seeing as you don’t share a single class with him. But he hasn’t texted you either, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a teeny tiny bit disappointed.

You grind your teeth, cursing Jisung and his stupidly cute hamster cheekies and puppy eyes. You hate to admit it, but you’re prepared to give him just about anything whenever he looks at you with his deep brown eyes while puffing out his cheeks. Honestly, what did the Universe think all those years ago, bringing him into your life?! Why couldn’t someone else have answered your ad about searching for a new roommate? Why did it have to be Jisung?

This whole mess is really just Jisung’s fault.

If it weren’t for him, you’d probably never have met the perfection that is Christopher Bang Chan.

“Are you trying to set the house on fire by staring at it? Because I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m pretty sure it ain’t gonna work.”, your best friend says, voice laced with barely hidden glee.

He knows how much you hate being here. You had only agreed to come after Jisung had promised Chan wouldn’t be here this evening. Pinky-promised, even! But you already see his car parked outside the frat house, and that can only mean one thing - Jisung has betrayed you. That bastard. This is how Jesus must have felt when he found out about Judas’s betrayal. Or Caesar, when he was stabbed by those closest to him, including his own son Brutus. You really can’t trust men. Your heart aches for your other best friend, but of course she just had to graduate top of her class and therefore go attend the most prestigious university in the country. Meaning she’s about a thousand miles away from you right now. In the end, you really can’t trust anyone, huh. But especially not men. And especially not Jisung, it seems.

“You’re less funny than you think.”, you just answer flatly, and your roommate scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. We both know the Universe has blessed me with both devilishly handsome looks and an amazing and unique humor.”, he replies, and now you really want to smack him. But being a self-proclaimed pacifist, you just take in a deep breath and decide to only think about all the ways you would murder him if you were a cold-blooded killer and not a usually soft tempered college student. “Come on, don’t be a party pooper and let’s finally go inside, I’m freezing.” And with that, your best friend simply drags you towards the front door.

Judas and Brutus have nothing on Jisung, you decide. Because the second you step inside the living room of the frat house, you’re greeted by the charms (the Chan arms). It’s way too cold to be wearing a sleeveless shirt, but Chan didn’t get the memo apparently. Or maybe it’s because he’s just so hot, he doesn’t get cold, like ever.

You grimace at your own lame joke, even though you thankfully didn’t say it out loud. That would have been embarrassing.

There are a few other people here already, maybe about 15 in total, and everyone greets you and Jisung warmly. You smile and return hugs, and before you know it, Changbin has handed you some wine in a red plastic cup. How very fancy, you truly feel special tonight.

He then pushes you towards the four old, mismatched sofas taking up most of the living room space, and orders you to sit down. You’re so surprised by his commanding tone, you actually follow his request without much protest. For a few minutes, you just stay quiet and observe the small crowd of people, taking a sip of wine from time to time. It’s dry, too dry for your liking, and you’d rather have a cup of tea right now. Or well, maybe a shot of vodka - because suddenly, Chan is making his way towards you. Your eyes dart around the room, and you desperately try not to look at him. He looks so good. Too good. No one needs that much beauty, this is truly just excessive. His black hair looks so shiny, you just want to run your fingers through it. And his deep dark eyes, perfect to drown in. You just want to touch his arms and see if his muscles are as hard as they look. He even has a perfectly cute smile, that bastard. It’s just too much, he’s just too much.

Before you can get up and flee from the scene, Chan falls onto the ground beside you, and gives you his signature cheery smile. His lips look incredibly kissable in the dimly lit room. Ugh.

You quickly look away.

“Hi.”, he says, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. He has too much power over you, and he doesn’t even know it. “Hi yourself.”, you answer quietly. “How you’ve been? We haven’t seen each other all week.”, he asks, leaning closer, his right arm brushing against your left one in the process. He smells really good and you can’t help but deeply inhale. “Yeah, I’ve been quite busy.”, you explain, still avoiding to look at him, but out of the corner of your eye, you see how he raises both eyebrows. “Busy? It’s only the second week of class. I didn’t know you’ve become such a geek while I was gone.”, he says, but his soft smile indicates he’s just joking. You shrug, and take another sip of the too dry wine. You grimace again.

It’s disgusting, really, and you don’t even know why you’re still drinking it.

Chan takes the cup out of your hand, and eyes it suspiciously before taking a sip as well. His face says it all, the wine truly is disgusting. “What is this!? A liquid from Hell?!”, he asks and shudders, and you break into a smile. “Considering you live with at least two demons, it’s not that far fetched.”, you answer, and he tilts his head to one side. “What did Hyunjin and Minho do now?”, he sighs, and you shrug. “They were themselves.” Chan chuckles, mumbles “That actually says it all.” under his breath and leans back against the sofa. He’s still looking at you, and you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. Really uncool of your body to just betray you like that. Mind over matter, you think, and dare the blush to just go away and leave you be. It doesn’t work though. Years of evolution and you’re still unable to command your body the way you want to. How incredibly rude. Darwin would be so disappointed.

“I missed you, Y/N.”, Chan suddenly says, his voice barely above a whisper. You finally turn towards him, and lock eyes with him. His expression is soft and his eyes earnest. You give him the smallest of smiles. “I… well, I missed you too.”, you finally confess, heart fluttering when he breaks into a bright smile. He lifts his hand to brush some of your hair behind your ear, all while still intensely looking at you. Your heart rate immediately flatlines, and you think you might have a very spontaneous case of strong asthma, because your lungs are apparently giving up on you as well. You basically drown in Chan’s eyes, their warm brown so familiar.

“MY DEAREST DUDES AND DUDETTES!”, Seungmin suddenly yells - a beautiful alliteration, you think -, making both you and Chan jump. You hurriedly bring some space between your bodies, almost having forgotten about not being alone in the room. You can feel Hyunjin, Minho and Jisung looking at you, all three sporting matching, shit-eating grins.

Maybe being a pacifist is not the right way to go through life after all, because right now, you really just want to punch them. Only lovingly, of course, but with enough strength nevertheless.

“Thank you for joining us on this wonderful Friday evening, and welcome to this month’s game and drinking night! I see most of you have already found your seats, so everyone who’s still standing, please go and sit on your butt, thank you very much.” Seungmin grins and waits for everyone to follow his words. He should really consider quitting law school to become a tv host instead of a lawyer. When everyone’s finally seated, he grabs an empty bowl from the shelf behind him and holds it up into the air, its blue glass catching the light. “Everyone, please write down your names on the slips of paper provided for you, and then we shall begin playing our first game of the night.”

It takes almost ten minutes for everyone to write down their names, mostly because there aren’t enough pens for everyone, so people keep fighting over them. After everyone’s finally done, Seungmin collects the slips of paper again, and puts them in his bowl, shuffling through them. “First game of the night is Seven minutes in Heaven.”, he says, his smile cheeky. You groan internally. He can’t be serious. But apparently, he is - because he fumbles for two paper slips, about to declare the first names. “Fingers crossed for it to be Hyunjin and Minho, just because I wanna see their faces.”, you mumble, and Chan beside you chuckles. “Well now I really want to see that, too.”, he replies in a low voice, leaning closer so you can hear him. You gulp nervously, and are about to answer, when Seungmin clears his throat. “Y/N, Chan? Did you not hear me?”, he asks innocently, and you turn towards him, both your expressions questioning. For someone so cute looking, Seungmin can be really evil sometimes, his smile almost devilish right now. “You’re the first ones up. Now go, have fun. Your seven minutes will begin as soon as you close the door behind you.” You’re actually speechless for once, just blinking at the man in front of you. This can’t be happening. He can’t be serious. There is no way this is a coincidence. You know Seungmin and the other boys too well for that. God, you really should have written all their names into your death note when you had the chance. You’re about to demand for Seungmin to show you the slips of paper in his hand, when - “Uh, well… Let’s go, then.”, Chan finally says, and takes your hand in his to help you up from the floor and drag you towards the little broom cabinet under the stairs.

How very Harry Potter-like.

The last thing you see before Seungmin closes the door in your face, is his stupid smirk.

Oh how much you hate him and the others right now.

It’s dark inside the cabinet, only some light falling through the slits around the door, but it’s too dim to see anything. Dust tickles your nose, and you have to suppress a sneeze. Chan standing opposite you clears his throat. “So.”, he says, and you shift from one foot to the other. The cabinet is small enough for your bodies to be almost touching. You can feel the heat radiating off him and want nothing more than to cuddle to his chest. “So.”, you repeat. “Here we are.”, Chan says. You just chuckle and nervously rub the palms of your hands together, air thick with tension. Before you can say anything else, Chan takes a step closer to you, hot breath fanning over your face. He smells like mint mixed with alcohol. It’s a nice combination, you think. But then again, you’d probably like anything on him. He’s Chan, after all.

Your Chan.

You shiver involuntarily, his close proximity making you almost a bit dizzy. “Are you cold?”, he murmurs, voice low and silky. Goosebumps rise all over your body and you shake your head - until you remember he obviously can’t see it in the darkness. “Not really.”, you whisper back, breath hitching when he suddenly wraps both arms around your waist to pull you close to his chest. You can feel his rapid heartbeat under the palm of your hand, mirroring your own. “Why did you leave last week?”, he asks, sounding more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard before. You gulp and bite down on your lower lip. Guilt washes over you. “Technically you left first - for Australia, remember?”, you shoot back, a really weak and sad attempt if you’re being honest. “You know I never would have left if I didn’t have to.”, he says, and you sigh. You know that, of course you do. Chan is a nice, good guy, a really nice, good guy. It had been stupid of you to confess your love for him right before he had to go. In the end, your broken heart had been no one’s fault except your own. You take in a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what else to do - I wasn’t sure how you’d react, waking up next to me after all those months of not talking.”, you confess, voice soft and tiny, and duck your head.

Chan’s hand brushes against your cheek, and he lifts your chin with two fingers. “I would have been happy. I would have kissed you good morning before making you some tea. And then I would have stayed in bed all day, cuddling you and showing you all the cool pictures I took in Australia.”, he murmurs, thumb tracing gentle patterns on your cheek. You exhale, sounding wobbly. “That would have been nice.”, you answer, and can almost feel his bright and relieved smile. “Well, tomorrow is Saturday again. So maybe we can just have a do-over.”, he asks, lips awfully close to your own now. “I think I’d like that - I’d really like that.”, you mumble against his lips, and then - finally - he kisses you. Fireworks burst behind your closed eyelids, and you quickly wrap your arms around Chan’s neck to pull him even closer. Now that you’ve started, it seems you can’t get enough of each other - what starts out as a slow, romantic kiss quickly becomes a clashing of tongues and teeth, and when he bites down on your lower lip, you can’t help but moan into his mouth, a hot, tingling feeling shooting through your entire body. All you can think right now is that you never want this moment to end - you’ve been waiting for this for so long. You’ve been waiting for him to finally find his way to you. And you yourself are just so, so tired of running away from him. Never before has anything ever felt so right.

You’re interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, and immediately jump apart, breaking the kiss. You’re both breathless, chests heaving, and even though you can’t see right now, you know that your hair is a total mess, your lips are swollen and your cheeks flushed. “Your seven minutes are over, so you better be decent!”, Minho says from outside, and before either you or Chan can reply, he opens the door. Light floods the tiny cabinet, and you blink against it, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The first thing you see when your eyes have finally gotten used to the brightness again, is Minho’s shit-eating grin. He stands in the hallway with both his arms crossed and head tilted to one side. “Well, well, well. Heaven sure seems to be as magical as they say, huh?”, he just says, and you really want to smack the grin off his stupidly handsome face.

But Chan just laughs, and grabs your hand, lifting it to his lips to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. You’re ready to just faint right there and then, knees almost buckling from the sweet gesture. Who cares about Minho’s stupid grin when Chan is being perfect again. “Truly magical, yes.”, Chan just answers good-humoredly, and tugs you out of the broom closet, “Well, if you’d excuse us now.” And with that, he simply drags you up the stairs and towards his room. “Hey, where you’re going?!”, Minho and Hyunjin yell in unison, and you look over your shoulder to give them a cheeky grin. “Chan has some pictures he wants to show me - someone told me there’s a really cute one where he cuddles a koala. I finally want to see that now.”, you answer innocently, and wink at them. Chan laughs and quickly pulls you close, kissing you again. You ignore the clapping and cheering noises the others make downstairs. God, your friends are really embarrassing sometimes. But maybe you’re not as sorry anymore about not having written any of them into your death note. Because as stupid and embarrassing as they often are, you do truly adore every single one of them. “You know what, I think that particular picture would make a really cute background for your phone.”, Chan murmurs against your lips, and you raise both eyebrows. “Oh, I bet.”, you just answer, and smile at him.

… Spoiler alert: it’s actually the perfect background for your phone.

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folkreid · 3 years

Text

Everything has changed

TYPE: fluff

WORD COUNT: 1.8K

SONG MENTIONED: Everything Has Changed- Taylor Swift

SPENCERS POV

When I enter the grocery store something is off. Where is she?

The she I was talking about was the woman. She was always here at the same time as me. It's 3 AM. Which is a weird time to go to the store. Why I go to the store so early is a story.

One day I got home from a case and noticed I didn't have anything. No milk. No coffee beans. Nothing.

It was 3AM and this was the only store open 24/7.

FLASHBACK

This store looks sorta sketchy. I don't know if I should go in.

I walk in slowly going to the back of the store where it had a big sign saying "MILK".

I see a lady in pajamas, I understand it's early but everyone else here is dressed. Her pajamas had small little red monsters on them. She picks out candies, lost and lots of candies.

Her hair was messy, long and messy. Grown out bangs messed up in her face. She was really pretty. I'm intrigued.

I grab my milk and go to the line she was in. It took a while, she had a conversation with the worker. She then said goodbye to the other workers that where there. Did she know them?

I walk up to the line. "Just the milk?" the cashier asked. Shit. I was supposed to get other things, I guess I just got distracted by her. "Uh yeah" I respond. "Sorry for the wait" she tells me. "It's fine, do you know that girl?" I ask pulling out my wallet from my pocket. "Yeah, she comes every Sunday and buys a whole bunch of candy, she talks to everyone here, she's really sweet" the cashier responds. I give her a couple dollars for my milk and thank her before walking out.

I walk out and see the girl from earlier on the bench eating some candy. It was a green lollipop. I wonder if she's okay? What if she's a homeless? Or on drugs? Or mentally ill?

Maybe I should just leave her alone.

END OF FLASHBACK

Ever since that day I've gone to the market every Sunday at 3AM. I've listened to some of the conversations she would have with the workers. Turns out she's in college right now. I'm not sure for what. No boyfriend, no children, hardly any family. She also once said that she buys the candy because she baby sits children and gives it to them as a reward.

I look around the store. She really isn't here? She's always here. I turn back around and I bump into someone. Shit it's her. "S-sorry I wasn't watching where I was going" I quickly apologized. "No i'm sorry, it's my fault I was on my phone" she nervously said.

We stood there in silence for a couple seconds before she speaks up. "I-I'm Y/n by the way" she smiles looking up at me. "Spencer, Spencer Reid" I smile at her. "I notice you come here often" she says. "Y-Yeah, you do too" I reply.

"Yeah I usually stay in the parking lot for a while and listen to music" she slightly giggles. Adorable. "Last week I passed your car and I think you were listening to You Belong With Me?" I say hoping I was correct.

Her face lit up. "You know that song?" she gives a flashy smile. "I um my friend Penelope loves that song, and I memorized the lyrics" I look down at my feet. "Do you maybe wanna get coffee sometime?" she smiled cheeky. "Uh- I um- Y-yeah I would like that".

I hope i'm not scaring her away with my nervousness.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Three months. We've been together for three months. I've never been so happy. I am a man of science, I don't believe in fate but that's what it feels like.

I hear a knock on my door. Y/n is here! I open the door and engulf her in a huge hug, I squeeze her tightly. I think I might be in love with her. She wraps her arms around my waist. "Hey baby" she squeezes me nuzzling her head into my chest. I kiss her forehead. "Come in babe" I tell move out the way so she can come in.

On our first month anniversary I took her on a date to the fair. Our second month I took her on a picnic date. Y/n said she just wanted to spend the whole day with me.

"Do you want me to order food?" I ask her, she starts walking to my room. "Yeah you choose" she flops down on my bed.

I order our food. I lie on my bed, lying my head on her chest. I wrap my arm around her waist. "Oh! Baby do you want to listen to my new favorite song" she smiles at me. "Of course I do babe". Y/n scoots down leveling her face with mine. She grabs her phone and starts playing the song.

All I knew

This morning when I woke

Is I know something now

Know something now I didn't before

And all I've seen

Since eighteen hours ago

Is green eyes and freckles and your smile

In the back of my mind making me feel like

Y/n sings along to the lyrics softly. The song says "And all i've seen since eighteen hours ago is green eyes, freckles and your smile"

But Y/n changed green eyes, freckles and your smile too "brown eyes beautiful smile". She possibly changed the lyrics for me, I wouldn't get my hopes up. She stares into my eyes and kisses me softly.

just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you, know you, know you

She kisses me all over my face. "I'm really happy with you" she whispers playing with my bottom lip. "I am too" I put an arm around her waist bringing her closer. She lies her head on my chest.

Cause all I know is we said, "Hello"

And your eyes look like comin' home

All I know is a simple name

And everything has changed

All I know is you held the door

You'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

Y/n holds me tightly on this part of the song. I can tell she feels it too. It's like this song was made for us. I feel like lyrics. We sat there mainly silent apart from Y/n's soft hums. I don't believe in soulmates or love at first sight but this felt so magical. I know she was made for me. We've only known each other officially for 5 months, we've been dating for 3.

These past three months have been the best.

I hear a knock on the door, our food must be here. "Our food is here i'm gonna go get it okay?" I ask her. She nods pausing her the song we were listening too.

I go get the food pay the man and go back to my room. Where is Y/n? I knock on the restroom door no reply. I go back to my room. Where is she?!

"Boo!" she scream coming out from behind the door. I jump, almost dropping the food. She jumps onto my bed laughing. "Y/n/n! I could've dropped our food!" I exclaim. "Well you didn't so..."

She comes to me grabbing the food from my hands and putting it down on the table. She then wraps her arms around my waist. She slaps my butt. "Ow! Y/n! Don't touch my butt!" she giggles at my reaction.

"Why? Your butt is cute" she gives my butt a squeeze. "That's enough" I pull her arms from around me and she pouts.

We eat our food and talk about our weeks. Y/n recently graduated from college. I'm so proud of her. She has a job interview next week, she says she's really excited. I'm excited for her!

We finish our food and lie back down. "Can we finish listening to the song, I'm dedicating it to you so you better not break my heart" she cups my face in her hands making sure I look her in the eye. "I won't I promise" she smiles giving me a quick peck.

And all my walls

Stood tall painted blue

But I'll take 'em down, take 'em down

And open up the door for you

And all I feel

In my stomach is butterflies

The beautiful kind, makin' up for lost time

Takin' flight, makin' me feel like

I watch as she sings the lyrics to her hear contents. She was so perfect. What if she doesn't love me back?

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you, know you, know you

'Cause all I know is we said, "Hello"

And your eyes look like comin' home

All I know is a simple name

Everything has changed

All I know is you held the door

And you'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

"Spence?" she mumbled. "Yes?" I look down at her. She looks up at me with innocent eyes. "I love you" she quietly says. "What do you say?" I pretend I didn't hear. "Nothing" she lies back on my chest.

Come back and tell me why

I'm feelin' like I've missed you all this time

And meet me there tonight

And let me know that it's not all in my mind

she holds me tightly as she sings those lyrics. That's exactly how I feel. "I love you too" I whisper. She get up with a shocked look on his face. "R-Really?". "Of course I do" she stares at me in awe.

"Get up" she says standing up. I stand and she grabs my hand. "Let's dance"

"I don't know how to Y/n" I confess. "Neither do I" she smiles. I pull her into my chest as we rock back and forth to the rest of the song.

just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you, know you, know you

All I know is we said, "Hello"

Your eyes look like comin' home

All I know is a simple name

And everything has changed

All I know is you held the door

You'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

All I know is we said, "Hello"

So dust off your highest hopes

All I know is pouring rain

And everything has changed

All I know is a new found grace

All my days, I'll know your face

All I know since yesterday

Is everything has changed

Everything has changed.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fan fiction

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zebrabaker · 4 years

Text

Families Lost and Found

Here we go, a brand new story, ft Jasonette, with a side of badass Marinette.

Marinette had many fond memories of being young. Her Mama singing her ancient lullabies as she combed her jet black hair. Visiting with Aunt Talia twice a year, and meeting her Godson Damain Al Ghul. Celebrating Chinese New Year with her maternal family in China, and being slipped small weapons along with her hongbao, eating jian dui with her cousins in between lessons. Her Aunties teaching her how to use her beauty to beguile and bewilder. Her Uncles showing her how to hold a knife. Her Maa-Maa showing her how to sew hidden pockets into all her clothes, and Ah-Gung showing her the many pressure points on a man that could cripple someone in seconds. Her older female cousins taught her how to use her bu yao as a deadly weapon, all the soft spots on a person that would hurt the worst when stabbed with the sharpened hair ornaments. Her older male cousins lessons were in subterfuge and misdirection. By the time she was seven, Marinette was well aware that most girls her age weren’t taught these things. But hey, Marinette was the next head of the Parisian branch of the Triad. Her younger cousin Bridgette would be her second in command, as she was the daughter of Maa-Maa and Ah-Ghung’s second child, Marinette’s Uncle Lee Cheng. Marinette knew her second and third cousins were scattered across Europe, ruling their branches with a velvet covered iron fist, as they were all taught, by family law.

She had been on her way home from a ‘family gathering’, really just a meeting at the front Cousin Yo owned, a large rental hall that could be equipped for any even. In reality, it was a trimonthly gathering of all heads of the Triad’s French branch. They were all, aside from her and her mother, from different cities across the country. She was almost back to her penthouse when she saw it, a man leaning against the wall of her building and staring at the five star Italian restaurant across the street. The restaurant that just so happened to be her eighteenth birthday gift from Mama, and a front for a smuggling ring the Triad had started almost ten years ago. They didn’t smuggle drugs or guns, but refugees, people who needed a new place to call home for some reason or another. Could he be a cop? Or worse, from the Russians? They had been rearing their heads again, trying to push their experimental heroine blend onto Triad streets, and Sabine had been sure to stomp them into the dust.

Waving her hand nonchalantly, her guards paused, and Marinette advanced on the man. His eyes snapped to hers, and his gaze seemed to bore into her very soul. His hair was peeking out from under a rather beat up beanie, and most of it was black, aside from a few white strands hanging over his eyes. She could see that under his mismatched clothes, he was wrapped like a mummy in bandages.

“Sir, are you okay?” She asked, raising her hands to show she means no harm.

“I... I’m from Talia. She said to find -” He manage to get out, before his eyes roll back in his head and he drops like a brick.

“Boys!” Marinette calls, and her guards, two men from the Italians, ‘gifted’ to her as goodwill gifts on her sixteenth birthday, Tony and Bobby, leapt into action, grabbing the man under the arm and throwing his arms over their shoulders. Marinette grabbed her key card from her phone wallet and swiped it at the keypad that opened the door to the lobby. The building was owned entirely by members of the Triad, filled with families of those in service to the organization. It was securely guarded 24/7, and the higher up in the building you were, the higher ranked you were. Marinette was in the penthouse, an entire floor to herself. Her guards and closest confidants had apartments on the floor just below her. Waving off the doorman, Marinette made her way straight for the elevator bay and pressed the call button for her personal elevator.

The ride was agonizingly slow, but after what felt like hours, the car arrived at her hallway. Digging her keys out of her purse, Marinette quickly unlocked the door and ushered her guards inside.

“Set him on the couch and go home, I need to check him for injuries.” Tony and Bobby shared a discomforted look, but nodded and obeyed her orders. Marinette quickly grabbed her first aid kit from the bathroom, a massive, clunky thing that could probably stock a small doctor’s office for days. When she came back, the man was still asleep on the couch, breathing slowly and deep. Now that she looked him over more carefully, his clothes were clearly stolen, as none of them seemed to fit quite the same. With a sigh, Marinette drew the medical scissors from the case and began to casually cut away his jacket. Underneath that was a hoodie, with presumably another layer underneath. This would take a while. Sighing, Marinette pulled away and threw aside the scraps of material. There didn’t seem to be any blood on him, but she would have to keep going to be sure. After the hoodie came a long sleeve shirt and a tank-top, and he was left coated in bandages from the waist up. He was swaddled like a damn mummy, oddly enough. He had mentioned Auntie Talia...could she have? No, Great-Uncle Ras would never allow some random outsider or underling to be bathed in the pits, he was far too possessive for that.

Right as she started cutting upwards from the hem of the man’s pant legs, he sat bolt right up, gasping. He saw her and scrambled backwards, while Mari just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“Where am I?” He demanded, eyes darting around the living room.

“Relax, my name is Marinette, and you’re in Paris, in my penthouse. I found you outside, you collapsed. My guards and I brought you in. I started cutting away your clothes so that I could assess you for injuries. I believe you’ve had some experience with my Auntie Talia and her League, and she sent you to find me. She would have said to find ‘she who rises’. It’s the meaning of my name, Marinette. Now, please sit down. I’m not armed, and I don’t intend to harm you. Look, you can pat me down if you need to make sure I’m not armed at all.” The man gave her a wary look, before taking a deep breath and sitting back down on the couch, perched on the very edge of the cushion. Good, Auntie Talia had instilled him with some preservation instincts.

“So, Auntie? I’m going to assume you’re related to Ras and Damain, then.”

“Not at all.” Marinette scoffed. “My family runs the Parisian Triad, and all future heads are trained by the League for a year and a day. Ras trained my mother at the same time as Talia was beginning to train. They consider themselves sisters, making Talia my Auntie. I am, however, Damian’s godmother. He’s a sweet boy, once you put aside the homicidal tendencies. Are you hungry? I can have the place across the street, the one you were staking out, run us some food. Anything specific you want? Their ravioli is to die for.”

“That would...that would be great. I’ll eat anything.” The man (who looked to be around her age, late twenties) seemed caught off guard by her kindness.

“So, it appears you have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.” Marinette commented, texting James, the head chef of Nona Gina’s to bring over her usual plus a plate of ravioli.

“My name is Jason. So, you mentioned the Parisian Triad.”

“Yup. My Mama is the current head, I have a year and a half before I take over. Tradition states I become head on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

“Any chance you’re looking for a new body guard? I’m gonna need to find a job, and I can guarantee that I’m good.” Marinette paused, thinking for a moment. Both her guards were more than adequate, but Bobby had come to her last week, and asked to be transferred to a more sedate job, as his wife (Laura, a lovely woman) had just birthed their third child, and he wanted a little more time off. Jason, on one hand, was likely League trained, and probably had no where else to go. On the other hand, he was a complete unknown, and it would be a week at least before she would be able to contact Auntie Talia and have a response as to whether the man was telling the truth. Well, Bridgette always said she was too soft.

“Good news for you is, I am. You can start as soon as the family doctor looks you over and gives you a clean bill of health. The issue is, what will your cover be?”

“Er, cover?” Jason asked.

“I’m going to need an excuse to suddenly have a random guy escorting me all over Paris, and it’s not exactly common knowledge that I’m the next head of the Triad. I’m also something of a public figure here in Paris.” Marinette blushed at the reminder. Her brand, MDC, had taken off not long after she graduated, thanks to Jagged bragging about her at every turn. “I mean,” she snorted. “we could go the route of claiming you’re my boyfriend or something.” Giggling, Marinette stood and made her way towards her room. “Try to think of something, while I grab a quick shower. I can’t stand family meetings.” Leaving Jason seated on the couch, lost in thought, Marinette shut her door behind her and fired off a quick text to the number saved as “Auntie T’ in her main phone, before grabbing a pair of pajamas from her walk in and heading to the attached bathroom. She had some thinking to do.

#jasonette #maribat #badass marinette #tw: triad #FLAF #my writing

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years

Text

Paint it Black

gif credit: @spnwhenever

Dean Winchester x Reader

Words: 3103

Summary: Dean must deal with a particularly nasty demon after it possesses his girlfriend.

Notes: Kicking off the final week of the Winchester Takeover, this imagine is based on the song ‘Paint it Black’ by the Rolling Stones. Both Dean imagines are song based this week, so I hope you guys enjoy!

Special shout out to my amazing beta reader Sarah, @suckmysupernatural . I love her so much and honestly, she’s helped me so much in getting these imagines out for you and she has some absolutely killer writing of her own!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

I see your red door

I want it painted black

“Deeeeaaan.” Your sing-song voice made him shiver. “It’s cold in here, Dean.”

“I said stop talking.” He spat, pacing back and forth outside the circle. Sam eyed him cautiously, the tension of the room making his chest tight. He had to keep a cool head.

As much as it pained him, he wasn’t sure Dean would do what had to be done if it came down to it. It would have to be him.

“Dean,” He sighed, opening up the journal. “We have to do this.”

“Just wait a second, Sam.” His eyes pleaded, his panic evident in his voice. “We can figure this out.”

“Come on Dean.” You groaned. “I can see in her head and I think we both know I’m a lot more fun.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean lunged towards you, but Sam stopped him. A sick smirk spread across your face.

“I knew this would be fun.” You closed your eyes and opened them again. Dean felt his blood run cold, staring deeply into the empty black.

24 Hours Earlier

“This is a bad idea.” Sam covered his face with his hands as you stared down his brother.

“This is between me and Maverick, Samuel.” You smirked. Dean just glared back at you.

“Don’t call me that.” He growled, but even Sam could hear the playful tone in his voice. You had given him the mocking nickname when you discovered his fear of planes. That, and his inability to follow the rules. You knew that he secretly liked it. “Are you ready to put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart?”

“Just shut up and drink.” With a hand signal from Sam, you started downing shot after shot of tequila. Dean was gaining speed, but you were too stubborn to let him win. You finished the last shot when he still had three to go. Letting out a victory cheer, you gave Sam a high five, wobbling slightly from the impact.

“I had a couple beers earlier.” Dean mumbled as a begrudged excuse. You sloppily kissed his cheek.

“Next round’s on you, champ.”

“I think we should head in for the night.” He gave you a suggestive smile and Sam took that as his cue to leave. Your mouth opened in mock offense.

“Dean Winchester, did you get me drunk so you could get me in bed?” You snorted when you laughed, but Dean found it incredibly attractive.

“Something like that.” He leaned his head down to meet your lips with his for a kiss that was far too inappropriate for standing in the middle of a bar.

“Guys, come on.” Sam groaned from the other side of the room. “We have a motel room… go use it.” The mood was quickly killed when the door to the bar flung open and a bloodied, screaming woman burst in.

“Somebody, help me!” She stumbled towards you and Dean caught her before she could trip. “Please, it’s my son. Something’s wrong with him.”

“Where is he, ma'am?” Sam asked and she pointed out to the parking lot.

“He-he killed my husband.” She bawled, clinging to Dean’s jacket. She looked pretty hurt.

“I’ll stay with her, go find him.” You said, gently prying her away from him. You told the bartender to get you some bandages and something to clean the wounds with. Dean and Sam rushed out the front door and you took the woman to the back room for some privacy.

Dean followed Sam and ducked down behind a beat up old truck for cover. There, in the middle of the lot, was a man’s body, his face all carved up and clothes drenched in blood. More importantly, the smell of sulfur lingered in the air.

“Demon.” Dean growled. They cautiously searched the entire premises, but there was no sign of the son. “Well that’s just great.”

“Let’s get back to Y/N and see what the woman knows.” Sam suggested.

“That’s going to be hard.” You sighed, wiping your hands off on a rag as you walked towards them. “She’s dead.” You froze, smelling the air. “Sulfur?” The boys nodded. “Wonderful.”

“We need to head back to the motel and sober you two up before we do anything.” Sam held his hand and Dean threw him the keys to the impala. Dean sighed. There went his plans for the rest of the night.

“No rest for the wicked, sweetheart.” He draped an arm over your shoulders and you leaned into him, hiding your bloody knife in your boot.

No colors anymore

I want them to turn black

Dean took a cold shower to clear his head, still foggy from the alcohol. You seemed fine, considering how much you had had. Sam was watching you with a curious eye.

“You sure you’re doing okay?” He wondered. You gave him a small smile.

“There was nothing I could do. She was half dead coming into that bar.” You shrugged. That’s the moment Sam knew something was up. Every death, no matter how hopeless, always ate at you for days. This wasn’t just alcohol calming you down.

“Right.” He nodded, letting his suspicions seep into his mind. Dean came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“So what’s the plan?” The three of you gathered around the table and you tossed the woman’s wallet in front of the brothers.

“I grabbed this so we could figure out who she was and where her son might have headed. Her name was Jolene Arthurs. That should at least give us a place to start.” They nodded in agreement. You stood. “Okay, it’s my turn for the shower, but when I get out, let’s head over to the Arthur house and see if we can find the son.”

You vanished into the bathroom and Sam waited for the water to run before leaning to his brother, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Is she acting a little weird to you?” Both pairs of eyes looked at the closed door. Dean shrugged.

“She seemed fine to me. Hell, she’s holding up great considering she had more tequila than I did.”

“Exactly.”

Under the hot water, you washed the woman’s blood off of your skin, cleaning off the knife as well. It was a good thing the bar was pretty empty. She was a screamer.

“Get out of me, you black-eyed bitch.” You tsked at your reflection.

“Now that’s not very hospitable of you.” It was your voice, but it didn’t sound like you. With a quick blink, your eyes turned black. “You and I are going to have such fun together, Y/N. Who knows, maybe I’ll get to take Dean for a spin. I’ve always wondered what he’s like in bed and from what I can tell from all those dirty thoughts of yours,” A sick smirk spread across your face. “He’s delicious.”

“If you touch him, I swear to God-”

“We both know the big man doesn’t care about little insignificant problems like us, so why don’t you try a different threat?”

“I promise you, I’m going to send your ass back to hell faster than you can say Lucifer.”

You leaned on the sink, looking deeply into the mirror.

“Baby, if I’m going to hell, you’re coming with me.”

A knock at the door almost made you jump. With one more quick wink to the mirror, your eyes returned to normal and opened the bathroom door, finding Dean on the other side. You gave him a bright and confident smile.

“Did Sam figure out where the house is?”

“Uh, yeah, we’re about to head over.” He stepped into the room and closed the door, eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay? Sam thinks you’ve been acting a little weird and I know that you think you could have saved that woman-”

“She was so scared, Dean.” You whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. Time to try a different method. “I… I tried, but she had lost so much blood. She begged me to save her. She begged to see her family one last time.” Your lip trembled and any suspicion Dean had immediately dispelled. He pulled you into his arms. “E-every death hurts, Dean.”

“I know, baby. I know.” He soothed, running his fingers through your hair. That’s why you were acting strange. You were trying to hold it together in front of Sam. “Tell you what,” he pulled back enough to look down at you with a small smile, “when this case is over, how about you and I go on a little vacation? Just the two of us. We could go camping in the Rockies like you said you’ve been wanting to.”

“Really?” You sniffed, wiping your eyes. He nodded and leaned in for a kiss.

“It’s not me, baby. That’s not me!”

You wrapped your arms around him again and smiled into the mirror.

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue

The day was spent looking through county records and checking the Arthur house. Nothing gave you any clue as to where Jolene’s son, Mika, might have gone. Sam was frustrated, but he made sure to keep an eye on you. Dean shrugged off your behavior as being upset about Jolene, but Sam wasn’t convinced. Something was just… off.

You kept up your act perfectly. Dean would occasionally cast you a sympathetic smile and reminded you about the camping trip he’d promised once this was all over with. Dean Winchester was a good boyfriend. Who would have guessed? Man, this was going to be fun.

“Stay away from him, you Pazuzu wanna-be.”

You ignored the quip.

“I got something!” Dean announced, coming into the room with Mrs. Arthur’s wallet. He held up a small piece of paper with an address on it. “Mica’s new apartment. So proud of him!” He read. “Hopefully our demon is holed up there.”

“What if the demon isn’t him anymore?” Sam suggested. You shrugged.

“Well this is our only lead, Sam. We might as well look into it.”

Sam gave you a once over and you stared innocently back at him. Maybe he was just being paranoid. The two Winchesters went out to the car and you gritted your teeth. Sam was a problem. You’d have to take care of him if you were going to get to his big brother. Oh well.

Arriving at the apartment building, Sam and Dean prepared themselves for an exorcism, grabbing supplies to make a devil’s trap just in case. You brought your knife. All you needed was a moment alone with Sammy boy…

Dean knocked loudly on the door and at first, there was nothing. Listening carefully, you all heard the sounds of someone scuffling inside. He was trying to get away. Dean kicked in the door and you filed inside, finding the young man trying to climb out the window. The older Winchester grabbed him the back of his jacket and yanked him back into the room. Mica cried out for help, earning a hard punch to the mouth from Dean.

“It isn’t in me! It isn’t in me!” He cried. One of his flailing arms hit Dean in the nose and he was able to break away. He grabbed you, wrapping an arm around your throat. He smelled like pathetic fear. Being in his head was like having a conversation with a frightened frat boy. You were much more interesting.

“Let her go.” Dean growled. Sam gripped the demon blade in his hand, but he didn’t dare make an attack. One quick movement and Mica could snap your neck.

“I just want to get out of here, man.” Mica sniffed. “I saw what that thing did to my mom. It was in me. I don’t know how, but it was in me.” His body shook as he tried to hold you against him as a shield.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Dean started to circle around him, slowly as to not startle him. Great. A macho showdown. Boring.

“Ugh, this isn’t fun anymore.” You whined, whirling around and slicing your knife across Mica’s throat. The young man sputtered and choked, blood pouring down from his neck, before collapsing.

“What the hell, Y/N?” Sam exclaimed. You smiled, closing your eyes.

“Guess again Sammy.” Both brothers revolted, staring into the cold black that replaced your eyes.

“You son of a-” Dean started towards you and you quickly turned your blade on yourself, plunging it deep into your side. Dean screamed. “No!” You winked at him before falling next to the boy you had slaughtered.

I could not foresee this thing happening to you

When you came round again, there was a bandage on your wound, tightly bound to try and stop the blood. You were strapped down to a chair, a devil’s trap painted on the floor beneath you.

“I didn’t take you for a bondage kind of guy.” You smirked at the scowling hunter.

“Shut up.” He snapped. Sam searched his bag for his journal.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Sammy. Y/N here is looking a little rough.” You motioned to the wound. “In fact, her little annoying voice is fading already.”

“Stop it.” Dean’s fists clenched at his sides. The demon was right. If they exercised it now, Y/N might not make it.

The window Mica had tried to escape from was still open, sending a cool breeze flowing through the room.

“Deeeeaaan.” Your sing-song voice made him shiver. “It’s cold in here, Dean.”

“I said stop talking.” He spat, pacing back and forth outside the circle. Sam eyed him cautiously, the tension of the room making his chest tight. He had to keep a cool head.

As much as it pained him, he wasn’t sure Dean would do what had to be done if it came down to it. It would have to be him.

“Dean,” He sighed, opening up the journal. “We have to do this.”

“Just wait a second, Sam.” His eyes pleaded, his panic evident in his voice. “We can figure this out.”

“Come on Dean.” You groaned. “I can see in her head and I think we both know I’m a lot more fun.”

“Son of a bitch!” Dean lunged towards you, but Sam stopped him. A sick smirk spread across your face.

“I knew this would be fun.” You closed your eyes and opened them again. Dean felt his blood run cold, staring deeply into the empty black. You leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss. Dean jerked away and you cackled wickedly. It didn’t sound like your laugh. Your laugh was hearty and warm. This sound was icy and cruel.

“Do it Sam.” He said, backing out of the circle.

“I can give her back to you Dean.” You offered slyly. “I can keep her alive and rent her out to you whenever you like. All you have to do is let me stay.”

“Go to hell.”

“Don’t you want to see her again? To hear her voice? She’s just dying to get her hands on you, Dean. I can hear her screaming.”

“Sam, do it!”

“She’ll die, Dean! You’ll kill her.”

Dean couldn’t look at you. No, it wasn’t you. It was a demon. He knew what you would want. Turning away, he gave Sam a nod. The latin words were almost drowned out by your screaming. Shrieks filled the room until the dark cloud finally shot up into the air, diving back into the fiery pit.

Everything went silent. Sam stared at the limp body in front of him and Dean kept his back turned away. Sam suddenly put a hand on his arm.

“Dean,” he started softly. His eyes widened. “Dean, she’s still alive!”

Sam rushed to you as you stirred, coughing and trying to speak. Dean ran and fell to his knees beside the chair, helping his brother to undo the restraints. You slumped forward into his arms. You tried to speak, but your voice was garbled and inaudible.

“I’ve got you, baby. It’s alright now. I’ve got you.” He hushed. Your eyes held a terror that he had never seen before as they welled with tears. “Sam and I are gonna take a look at you, okay?” You nodded weakly and they lifted up your shirt to look at the wound. You winced as Sam lifted the bandage.

“We’ve gotta get her out of here.” He concluded. Dean slowly lifted you up in his arms, moving extra carefully so that you wouldn’t be in any more pain.

“You’re gonna be just fine, sweetheart.” Dean promised. He looked into your Y/E/C eyes and smiled. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I want to see it painted, painted,

Painted Black

They told the doctors that you were mugged. That the man who did it got away without them getting a good look. It was enough for them to not ask more questions. When they asked for next of kin, they said that they were the only family you had, which was the first true thing they said since they stepped in the hospital.

Dean was sitting in the lobby, his leg bouncing up and down with nervous anticipation. Sam had made him stop pacing because he was getting odd looks from people. They were both bloodstained and exhausted, so people steered clear of their direction.

“You can go back now.” The nurse announced. Both Winchester boys jumped out of their seats and nearly sprinted down the hall.

“Now, Miss Y/L/N, you need to lay down-”

“No, you don’t understand, I have to see them.” You fought against her as she tried to urge you back into the bed. Your eyes locked with your boyfriend’s and you let out a cry of relief. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I should have known. I should have seen it in that woman before I helped her-”

“Shhhh,” Dean took you in his arms, making sure he didn’t bump your bandages. “I thought I lost you, baby.”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Sam sighed, giving you a small, guilty smile.

“You did what you had to, Sam.” You assured him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

After they got you checked out, Dean kept his promise and took you camping. It was a break that you needed. Sometimes, you could feel the darkness closing in again, that inky black that the demon had tormented you with. But Dean kept it away, like he always did.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado

Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone

#dean winchester x reader #supernatural imagines #rolling stones #paint it black #sam winchester #demon #dean winchester #jensen ackles #Jared Padalecki #winchester take over #october

140 notes · View notes

toosicktoocare · 2 years

Text

I posted 240 times in 2021

168 posts created (70%)

72 posts reblogged (30%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.4 posts.

I added 238 tags in 2021

#911 fox - 56 posts

#evan buckley - 38 posts

#eddie diaz - 30 posts

#buddie - 24 posts

#9 1 1 spoilers - 21 posts

#9 1 1 fox - 17 posts

#fanfiction - 14 posts

#9-1-1 fox - 14 posts

#9-1-1 - 13 posts

#whump - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#i’m convinced minear and murphy were like “’shit let’s put this cute opener in with buck teasing eddie since we are bringing in ana’

My Top Posts in 2021

emergency contact

pt 1 of 2 and also found on ao3!

(i promise i’m not ignoring my prompts- this idea just kinda popped into my head)

“Hi, may I speak with Mr. Evan Buckley?”

“Hi, Mr. Buckley. I’m Nurse Johns at LA General. I have you listed as the second emergency contact for Christopher Diaz.”

“His father,” Buck starts into the phone, shaky, “Eddie—Edmundo Diaz—”

“—didn’t answer. You’re next on the list. Sir, if this is incorrect, I’ll need to move on to the next person—”

“Sir, I can’t disclose that over the phone.”

He uses hands-free to call Eddie, not surprised to get his voicemail after only two rings.

“Buck?”

Buck’s foot slips a little too hard on the gas, and he sucks in a sharp breath. “Bobby? Bobby! Where’s Eddie?”

“Currently? He’s probably making his way back to a second story window, hopefully with one of the victims of an expansive house fire.” A pause. “What’s going on, Buck?”

Buck peers around, swallows back a groan at the cars on every side of him. “Look, can you get Eddie to LA General ASAP?”

“You’re at LA General? Are you hurt?”

“They didn’t say anything over the phone. They tried Eddie first, and then they called me. I’m—”

“—Buck, take a breath. I’ll get Eddie there as soon as possible. You be careful driving there, okay? Keep us updated.”

***

Concussion.

“You’re welcome to go in. We’ve told him you’re coming.”

“Mr. Buckley?”

“Sorry,” Buck mutters, nodding. He turns when the nurse opens the door for him, and he wills away any and all fear etched deep in his face the second he crosses over into the room.

“Bucky!”

“My head hurts.”

“I bet it does,” Buck mutters, sympathetic, and he drops onto the edge of the bed, one hand resting atop Christopher’s covered knee. “What happened?”

“Me and Caleb were playing firefighter, and I fell down a step.”

“Don’t tell dad. He’ll get mad.”

“Chris—”

“—Mr. Buckley, I presume?”

“Uh, yeah—It’s Buck.”

“Okay, Buck. Want the good news?”

“Will it be followed by bad news?” Buck asks, one brow arched, stomach twisting. “Because his father—”

“—no bad news today,” the doctor interrupts, and Buck huffs out a quiet sigh of relief and gives Christopher’s knee a squeeze. He gives a nod, and the doctor plucks the clipboard up.

“Buck?”

Buck blinks slowly, peels his gaze from the door to see Christopher smiling softly at him, poking at his side.

“Can you lay with me?”

***

“Are you okay?”

Eddie whips back around, squints at Bobby. “Yeah, why?”

“Let me clarify: are you okay to leave the scene right this second, or do you need to a look-over now?”

He slips into the back, pausing to see Bobby sitting in the back with him, stationed across from him.

“Cap, what—”

“—have a seat.”

“Is he okay?”

“Buck’s fine. The hospital called him because Christopher was brought in. They tried you, and he was next on the emergency contact list.”

“Eddie, breathe.”

He goes through the texts—he won’t be able to hear the voicemails right now, and he really doesn’t think he’ll be able to stomach Buck’s panicked, broken voice.

[From: Buck] Chris is okay. He fell at school and hit his head

[From: Buck] no concussion. Doc said he can be discharged within the hour

[From: Buck] I’ve checked him over. There’s a bruise on his side I want to keep an eye on but otherwise he’s okay

[From: Buck] we should talk about why he fell

[From: Buck] but not until later! Sorry that last text sounded weird…

[From: Buck] discharge in 20 minutes. I’ll bring him back to yours if you aren’t able to come yet. I still have the spare key you gave me

He’s blinks around the tears pooling in his eyes, swallows thickly. “Buck said he’s okay. He fell at school.” He’s aware his voice is shaking, and then Bobby claps him on the knee.

“That’s a good thing.”

***

“Christopher!”

“Daddy!”

“¿Estás bien, hijo?”

“Sí.”

“The discharge papers,” he motions toward a stack of papers on the end of the hospital bed. “I’ll bring my jeep around.”

“Wait, Buck—”

Buck slips out of the room, eyes cast to the ground, and he bumps right into someone, his hand coming up to fist around the turnout jacket and his head dropping against a shoulder.

“You okay, Buck?”

“Easy, Buck. Breathe with me, okay?”

“What’s going on?”

“Now you know how I feel every time I get a call that you’re in the hospital.”

“Bobby,” Buck groans, lifting his head to match Bobby’s smile.

“You look tired—I don’t imagine you got much sleep before the call?”

“Do you need me to take Eddie and Chris back?”

“I requested the 122 to come in for backup.”

“You did good today, Buck.”

His shoulders slump, tension falling with them, and he huffs out a low sigh.

“Thanks, Bobby.”

***

“You keep looking at him like he’s going to disappear.”

Buck jumps; he didn’t hear the shower cut off, nor did he hear Eddie slip into Christopher’s room behind him.

“Buck—”

“—when were you planning on telling me I’m second on Christopher’s list of emergency contacts?”

“It was Chris’s idea.”

Buck blinks slowly. “What?”

Eddie takes in a low breath, and Buck’s mutely envious because he can’t do the same.

“If I can’t get to him, it needs to be you.”

“It can’t be me.” He watches Eddie’s face fall, but Eddie still nods, understanding even now.

“I get it. I should have asked first. I know it’s a big responsibility—”

“He was playing firefighter with one of his friends at school, and he fell down a step.”

“Is that it?” Eddie says instead, calm, and Buck frowns, jaw opening and closing, struggling for words.

“I mean, I’m waiting for the part where you tell me how this is your fault,” Eddie clarifies, and Buck sinks onto the coffee table at this, not trusting his legs to hold him upright.

“Eddie, I’m constantly telling him stories from work, glorifying the job, painting all of these verbal, detailed images that fill his mind and plant ideas.”

“And you think I don’t?”

“Eddie—”

“—Buck, we have the same job. If Chris asks me what I did at work, I tell him. I spare him the calls that don’t go in our favor, but otherwise, I tell him.”

Buck blinks slowly, mind operating around 30% capacity, and Eddie leans forward, cupping a hand to Buck’s knee.

“No one’s at fault. Kid’s got one hell of an imagination.”

“There’s nothing to be mad about.”

Buck can only blink at Eddie. He’s faintly aware that his eyes are watering, and then Eddie’s pulling him back up by the arm.

“Okay, we all know by now that you get sappy when you’re tired.”

Buck stops in the doorway when Eddie steps into the bedroom, watching as Eddie pulls back the covers and motions toward the bed. He shakes his head, one hand gripping tightly at the doorframe.

“Eddie, I’m not taking your bed. You should be with Chris. I’ll go—”

“Eddie.”

“Buck.”

“You give your oxygen mask to someone during the house fire?” Buck asks around a yawn, and Eddie nods.

“It wasn’t for long.”

“You didn’t get checked over.” It’s not a question; Buck knows, based on the sight of Eddie arriving at the hospital looking rough for wear and donned in full gear, but Eddie still responds.

“No, but I’m fine.”

Buck forces himself up on one elbow, frown deep, brows furrowed. “You should get checked out now. I can call Hen—”

“—did you forget I was a field medic?” Eddie arches a brow, and Buck sinks back against the pillow.

“No, you always find a time to remind me. You can’t check yourself over, though.”

“And how many times have you ignored a fractured rib because you ‘checked yourself over?’” Eddie fires back, and Buck groans, draping an arm over his eyes.

“The bruise on Christopher’s side. We should—”

“—I looked, and we iced it until he fell asleep. Now, please shut up and sleep.”

310 notes • Posted 2021-03-09 04:22:51 GMT

hi, here’s some Buck and Eddie sleeping quarantining together

It’s ten minutes of Buck listening to Eddie roll and shift around in his makeshift bed that he clears his throat and props himself up on his elbow, sighing. “This is stupid.” It’s dark, but he can still make out the dark lump on the floor beside his bed moving until it’s taller, and Eddie’s bare, tan skin is barely visible, his blanket pooling around his waist.

“Is this your way of inviting me to the bed?” Eddie’s voice is passively eager, and Buck sighs again, louder, a little more drawn out.

“Yes.” He drags out the word, a laugh slipping past his lips as Eddie hops up from the floor and throws himself on the bed, rolling over Buck to the empty side.

Eddie breathes through a deep sigh, the content evident on his breath, and Buck rolls over until he’s lying on his side, facing Eddie with a cocked brow.

“The floor can’t be that bad.”

“Tell that to my back.”

Buck huffs out a laugh, and he moves until he’s lying on his back, matching Eddie’s position. He stares at the ceiling, and though his muscles are still, his heart’s beginning to quicken in speed until it’s a rapid, rabbit’s foot thump against his rib cage. “This isn’t weird, right?”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Eddie grumbles around a yawn, and Buck can feel Eddie shift around in the bed.

He peers over to see Eddie lying on his stomach, his back faintly exposed with the blanket only pulled up to his hips. His head is turned away from Buck, and contradicting his own words, Buck stares, his eyes following the small, sharp curve of Eddie’s back.

“Go to sleep, Buck,” Eddie mutters, and Buck whips his gaze back to the ceiling and swallows thickly.

He’s thankful his ceiling fan ticks slightly because otherwise, he’s sure Eddie would be able to physically hear his heart threatening to burst out his chest. He squeezes his eyes closed tightly and takes to breathing exercies to steady his heart rate: in for four, hold for seven, out for four. He repeats this until his face falls slack, and then comes the water.

It creeps at the edge of his dream, a muted crescendo to decrescendo lapping faintly at his ears. It brings a furrow to his brow, and he rolls onto his side, his back to Eddie, to try and jostle the hint of a dream away during a brief bout of consciousness.

It comes back stronger when he nods off again. He falls into his first REM cycle, and the water’s all around him, floating debris slamming against his ankles. He stares around, stuck in a vast, seemingly endless, pool of rushing water that whips strongly around him, trying to pull him off his feet.

He holds his ground, bracing himself with bent knees, but then the debris gets bigger, longer, and he spares a glance down to see that the chairs and trashcan lids have morphed into listless bodies floating along the pulsing waves.

No, he thinks, shaking his head. Something’s off. The dark walls around him are closing in, but they can’t because he’s missing something. Someone..?

“Christopher?”

He works the name around his jaw, frowning, and the single word feels sour but right. Christopher should be with him, beside him, his small hand in his, but he’s not. There are bodies floating face first in the water around him, and Christopher isn’t here.

“Chris?” he tries, eyes scanning his darkening surroundings. He can’t... He can’t lose Christopher; he...

“Christopher!”

Something latches onto Buck’s leg, sharp, breaking his skin, and he falls, his entire head going under. The water’s cold and murky, painted in faint wisps of red, and Buck cannot breathe. There’s something heavy pushing against his chest, keeping him under, and he can’t break free.

“Christopher!” he shouts, dirty water rushing into his mouth, sinking heavy in his lungs. He twists and fights against the dark force against his chest. He tries to break free because he can’t breathe, and if he can’t breathe, then Christopher probably can’t breathe.

The water around him is growing redder, thicker. It’s getting harder to see, and it’s cold.

“Buck!”

He pushes with every muscle; his jaw clenched tightly. “Christopher!” he calls back. “I”m here!”

“Buck!”

Christopher’s voice sounds different, deeper but similarly desperate, and Buck’s lungs are burning. He needs to...

“Buck!”

Buck jerks forward, a strangled scream ripping up his throat, and he grips at the arms in front of him, staring frantically hard at the face before him, a face that’s pale, lifeless, floating, until it’s not.

“Buck? You with me?”

Eddie’s face slowly gains life and color until Buck can make out his sharp, worried features: his dark eyes narrowed, his forehead creased, his jaw set hard. “Eddie?” he rasps out, fingers tightening around Eddie’s arms.

“Hey, yeah. It’s me. Are you okay?”

A loaded question. Buck’s far from fine; Buck hasn’t been fine for a long time. He nods, but he doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s frown deepens.

“You were mumbling for Christopher.”

“It was just a dream,” Buck tries. He doesn’t want Eddie to worry about him; he doesn’t want anyone to see through the plasters he’s thrown up to mask his cracks.

“About the tsunami? Buck, have you-”

“-it’s fine, Eddie,” Buck says, pushing his voice to be light yet firm. “I’m fine.” Even as he says it, his fingers are still digging into Eddie’s arms, and he slowly releases his grip and falls back against his back with a sigh. “Sorry.”

Even through the dark, Buck can make out the brief pull of conflict against Eddie’s face. He knows Eddie wants to say more, but instead, Eddie carefully lies back on his back, his shoulder brushing against Buck’s.

“You going to be okay?”

No, Buck thinks.

“Of course.”

***

Buck stares at his bed; it’s still a mess of tangled sheets. His comforter’s been kicked toward the end of the bed. He got hot last night, after his dream. The heat was welcome though, comforting and encompassing, and when he woke to his alarm, he was on his side, and Eddie was pressed flush against his back, his arm wrapped tightly around Buck’s waist.

Buck can’t remember his dreams from the night before after the intrusive tsunami one. All he can remember is bright, wide-open warmth that wrapped around him, carried him over a light, welcoming breeze.

“Should we make the bed first?”

Buck turns a smile to Eddie, who’s walked up to his side, head tilting at the mess of the bed.

“I never really saw the point of making a bed if you’re just going to mess it up again later.”

Eddie breathes through a laugh, and he slips around Buck and flops onto the bed, a deep sigh morphing into a groan. “Me either, but my mother and my grandmother insisted.”

“Well, luckily they aren’t here, and you’re just stuck with me.” Buck climbs onto the bed, watching as Eddie fiddles with his phone. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to Facetime, Chris,” Eddie starts, and he tugs at Buck’s arm until Buck’s falling onto his back beside Eddie, his shoulder knocking into Eddie’s.

Eddie holds his phone up until the camera’s squishing both their faces close into the small square in the corner, and then the call’s being answered, and Christopher’s face is so close, his smile so wide.

“Buck!”

Buck suddenly feels warm from head to toe, and he smiles so naturally wide. “Hey, Christopher!”

“Are you and daddy having a sleepover?”

Eddie snorts, and Buck slaps his leg outside of the camera. “Your dad’s elderly back can’t handle the floor.” He laughs loudly when Eddie’s over-dramatic pout covers their small screen in the corner.

“Tell us about your day, Chris. How’s virtual school going?”

Buck listens as Chris talks excitedly about his day, in specific detail, and for the first time, despite everything that’s happening and has happened, he feels calm, at peace, if he’s willing to admit he’s being cliche.

Chris and Eddie bounce naturally off each other for thirty minutes before Chris has to get off to get ready for bed. He and Eddie follow suit, and before Buck knows it, he’s back in last night’s position, lying on his back in the dark and staring at the ceiling, hoping, desperately, that his ceiling fan will continue to mask the echoing thump of his heart.

They lie like this for a while, and though Buck says nothing out loud, he knows Eddie’s still awake and working through his own thoughts.

“You know Chris is okay, right?”

“Hmm?”

“Because of you,” Eddie adds. “Chris is fine.”

There are things Buck knows that Eddie leaves unsaid: it was a while ago, stop worrying about it, I’m not mad.

“He’s a strong kid,” Buck opts for, turning his gaze when Eddie shifts until he’s propped up on his elbow, his body twisted toward Buck.

“You don’t have to talk to me about it if you don’t want to. Though,” Eddie pauses, his face falling, “I wish you would. But, whether you open up to me or not, I know I’ve told you before, but you’ve got to let go of the guilt, Buck. No one could have predicted that, and you literally drove yourself to a hospital bed searching for him. You didn’t just save him, either. You saved so many people that day, and I don’t blame you for what happened. I haven’t lost my trust in you. I still stand by my thinking that Chris is safest when he’s with you.”

Buck’s eyes are stinging. He blinks quickly, slowing craning his neck until’s he’s looking up into Eddie’s dark eyes. “Good thing you just did enough talking for both of us.”

Eddie groans around a light laugh, and he flops back down onto the bed, twisting his body more toward Buck until he’s draping himself half atop Buck, his face dropping to Buck’s neck.

“I hate you. Haven’t you ever heard of a moment?”

“Who the hell has moments at 10 PM?”

“Lots of people!”

“Will you two please shut up?”

Eddie pushes himself up, his lips pursing together, biting back a laugh at Chimney’s groan from the couch downstairs.

Buck can’t help but giggle, and then Eddie’s falling back against him, and they’re trying, and promptly failing, to cover their laughs.

“I forgot he was here,” Eddie whispers.

“Too lost in the moment?”

Eddie buries his face back to the crook of Buck’s neck, and his breathy laugh is warm against Buck’s skin. They lie like this for a moment, both laughing quietly until their breathing evens out, and only the sound of the ticking ceiling fan cuts through the silence.

“Are you going to be okay tonight?”

Buck’s seen Chris tonight. Granted, it was through a camera that sometimes froze, leaving Chris’s voice still echoing through the speaker despite his face blurred mid-turn. But, he saw him. Alive. Breathing. Steady on dry land. And, Buck thinks, he’s got a very real, very alive, body atop him, keeping him grounded, keeping him from floating away.

Is he okay? No, Buck thinks. Okay is a loaded word with multiple jagged edges that struggle to smooth out and meet in the middle. But, tonight? With Eddie firm at his side, with Christopher safe and warm in his own bed?

“Yeah,” he says, and he can feel Eddie smile against his neck.

“I think I will be.”

446 notes • Posted 2021-01-20 03:59:40 GMT

Going to Master List my 911/911 Lone Star fics because I think I have enough to accumulate a decent list!

911

- this one here has good, ole Buck cutting his arm on a call and not realizing until he’s half naked and Eddie looks like he’s about to have a heart attack

- this one has Buck coming down with a cold after a water rescue, and whOOPS the cold gets worse because he doesn’t know how to pace himself ever and winds up with pneumonia

- this one takes place after that damn well/Eddie almost drowning episode that was dangerously close to ruining me and has Eddie ending up sick because bro’s been through a lot okay?

- this one happens after we learn Eddie’s been fighting for sport because his boyfriend Buck hurt him realy badly. Basically, Buck finds out and he’s nOt happy about it

- this one has Buck meeting Eddie at a hospital bc Christopher’s been sick, but he finds out that Eddie’s also sick and has to take care of both his boys

- this one has Buck feeling anxious, sad, and insecure and just overall not having a great day and boyfriend Eddie’s the only one who really picks up on it and goes to help

- this one is a little Valentine’s Day fic where Eddie and Buck have dinner plans but dinner plans end up not being dinner plans because Buck’s sick and tries to ignore it bc [cue heart eyes] Eddie

- this one has Buck getting stuck in a burning building a little too long and he gave his oxygen mask to someone else bc of cOURSE he did and he’s a little woozy and Eddie’s a lot not happy and gets him out despite his shoulder being a little not great at the moment (dislocated; his shoulder’s dislocated bc the two can’t just keep themselves together)

- this one has some Buck and Eddie sleeping quarantining together and just being too cute and it’s really not allowed

- here’s just a little, domestic Buddie where Buck’s retelling a riVETING story about his call today to Christopher, and Eddie didn’t sign up to have two children in his house tonight

- here’s a little one where Buck’s a little sick (he’s a lot sick bc he doesn’t do things halfway literally every) and he spirals a little, so he drives to Eddie’s house and Eddie looks after him bc we stan soft in this household

- (crying) this was my first 911 fic wowowow so this one has Buck throwing himself back into work once he’s back (and we just don’t fucking discuss the lawsuit bullshit okay?) and he’s pushing himself way too hard and ends up being really not okay at Eddie’s house while he’s playing games with Christopher

- this is a sequel to the fic above so my second first 911 fic lmao it’s a continuation. Eddie’s worried. Bobby’s worried. Buck’s “fine,” grown men watch cartoons-- it’s really a whole thing lmao

- this is my most recent 3-chapter child that i spent an embarrasing amount of time on and it’s set after the crossover episode and has Buck driving to Texas right after a 24-hour shift to confide in TK about his feelings he’s having (feelings of the sexual preference nature) bc as said above he really doesn’t do things halfway and of course Eddie gets involved, proving Buck’s not the only one who’s overdramatic

911 Lone Star

- here we have a little drabble of how I imagined TK would react finding out about Owen’s diagnosis in Season 1 bc I was having feelings, okay?

- this is just a little Valentine’s Fic in season 1 setting where TK and Carlos are striclty NOT on a date (are they doing date things? Yes, but for TK purposes, it’s not a date)

- this one is a little drabble where TK’s v upset and might be having a break down, and Carlos is there (too soft, very sharp on the cheese in this one)

- this one’s a little drabble where someone spray paints something not nice at all on TK’s locker, and TK’s all whatever shit happens about it and his Team + Carlos is NOT HAPPY (as they should be)

- this one is a little deep dive into that whole comment TK made in season 1 where everything’s gray and he just wants to feel so, in the tornado episode, he goes toward the tornado and Carlos takes care of him after

- this one has TK getting trapped on a call and Carlos pANICS bc of feeLINGS and goes in to save him and there’s some after hopsital revelations to be made

- this one’s a little role reversal where Carlos gets hurt on the job, and TK seems like he’s the last person to find out and he’s 100% not happy and is 100% going to take care of Carlos

- this one has TK thinking he picked up a small cold from Carlos so he goes about his business but gets worse and passes out while on a call bc his single brain cell is stretched a little thin

- this one is season 1 setting (catching a trend here? lmao) that has TK kind of running himself into the ground trying to be the perfect son after he learns about Owen’s diagnosis but he disregards it bc Owen is more improtant and ends up at Carlos’s house later in the night, where Carlos very quickly learns he’s not here to vibe with fever sex

- this one has Carlos working too hard to catch a dangerous man and he ends up collapsing after they finally catch him so Michelle brings him to TK, and TK’s left to deal with a feverish, tired, yet still very much on edge Carlos

494 notes • Posted 2021-02-21 21:07:39 GMT

The most underrated takeaway from this episode: Josh is in a group chat with Buck and Chimney

1124 notes • Posted 2021-02-23 01:48:06 GMT

David Hale, esteemed doctor, facing his single biggest challenge in his medical career: trying to work out how to stretch and sustain the single brain cell his boyfriend shares with his boyfriend’s ex wife’s husband.

1753 notes • Posted 2021-03-02 02:47:48 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #oh look it’s literally all 911 #who’s surprised?

24 notes · View notes

petri808 · 3 years

Text

Happy Halloween!

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

*Bonus Halloween chapter* it’s longer than normal (2k)

The biggest party in Tokyo was for a western holiday called Halloween, and the streets surrounding the heart of Shibuya that Saturday were literally crawling with a million young adults in every kind of costume you could imagine! Most of the revelers had no idea as to the origins of this holiday. All they cared about was dressing up and having a good time, including Lucy and her friends who’d dressed up as their favorite manga characters from Eden’s Zero. The businesses lining the streets in the area were used to the onslaught and welcomed it because it meant a nice chunk of revenue, while authorities did their best to control the crowds.

The group started off with Lucy, Levy, Erza, Gajeel, and Gray, but over time as others showed up or they ran into more friends, the groups numbers ebbed and flowed. Gray was the first to take off to meet his girlfriend Juvia, and once Natsu was off of work and joined them, Lucy and he split off to cruise by themselves for a while.

“Wow it’s so eerie how much you guys look like Shiki and Rebecca!”

“Thanks Mira,” Lucy blushes.

“Tch, I may look like the guy, but I’m not as dopey as him,” Natsu retorts. “He’s taking too damn long to make it official with Rebecca.”

“Don’t mind him,” Lucy giggles, “Natsu ships Shicca hard. But it’s even funnier to watch him and Gray argue over Weiszmura.”

“That’s because Gray is a blind bat who won’t admit they match!”

“Okay,” Mira laughs, “put the canons away. Are you two gonna check out the BUMP party at Womb nightclub?”

“Maybe a little later.” Lucy answers for them. “I heard they had some decent bands this year, but I’d rather go somewhere a little smaller like Sonidos.”

“Oh, yeah? Lisanna’s boyfriend Bixlow is the DJ there tonight.”

Lucy looks to Natsu, “we definitely should stop by and say hi.”

“Agreed.”

“Well it was nice bumping into you. I need to meet up with Laxus so you two have fun! I’ll catch you later!” Mira waves as she rejoins the flood of passerby’s.

Natsu takes Lucy’s hand and the couple continued walking around with no real destination. They stop in open stores to browse or grab yummy-looking finger foods from street vendors along the way. Despite the chaos around them, this was turning into a nice reprieve from their daily lives. It was already 1 am, but from the amount of activity going on, it was easy to lose track of time.

“Look, look,” Lucy points while dragging Natsu with her. “Photo booth!”

“Aww, really?” He whines, though the smile never wavered on his face.

“Yup!” She pulls him in and fishes out a bill from her wallet for the machine.

“Chi-zu!”

The pair chuckle and pose for the five shutter clicks. Each pose varying until the last one ending with a kiss from Natsu and genuinely surprised expression on Lucy’s face. It wasn’t their first kiss, but this would be a memorable one. For a few seconds as the machine printed out the slip of photos, Natsu holds her gaze, sweeping his thumb gently along her flushed cheek. There was a sense of intimacy in these confined booths where many a couple had hidden away from the public for this very kind of very moment.

“Thank you,” he smiles, eyes soft and pure of appreciation.

“For what?” Genuinely unsure of the reason.

“Giving me a second chance. These past few months have been the happiest times of my life and it’s all thanks to meeting you on that train.”

“I’m really glad too,” Lucy smiles sweetly. “Really... really glad,” she breathes out as she moves in to kiss him again.

“Excuse me?” A loud knocking sound stops them. “There’s other people waiting to use the machine!”

“Whoops. To be continued,” she gives Natsu just a quick peck and the pair get out of the booth. They apologize to the next group in line and race off hand in hand, laughing. That had been exhilarating!

Lucy’s heart was still racing even though they were long gone from the photo booth. She and Natsu had been taking things extra slow because of her earlier concerns. Aside from dates and a few kisses here and there, they’d never gone much further and she wondered who was the one holding back. Was it really her or was it actually him because he was too nervous to lose her? Tonight... in that booth... if they weren’t in public... her body flushes wildly just from the thought of it. Okay, so maybe she’s been dying to take their relationship further. Maybe not sex— yet, soon, or maybe... ‘argh! Not now!’ Lucy scolds her libido. But a make out session was a very tempting idea!

They check out Lisanna and Bixlow for a short time at Sonidos, before briefly hooking back up with Levy and Gajeel for some crepes. That’s when Levy quietly informs Lucy that she’ll be crashing at her boyfriend’s house instead of going back to the dorm. “You know... for some privacy,” the girl winks at Lucy. “Hint. Hint!”

“I-It’s too soon for that! W-with us,” her tips burn with lies through each syllable.

“Pfft, you can’t lie that you’ve never thought about it.”

“No... not all the way...”

“Uh-huh. Well, do whatever,” she winks a second time and stands up to leave. “See ya in tomorrow night.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

“Why are your ears all red?” Natsu asks Lucy.

Lucy stiffens up. “N-Nothing important.”

“Oh... okay,” he smiles. “So whatdya wanna do next?”

“Actually, I’m kinda getting tired already.” It was after 3 am and they’d been out and on their feet for over seven hours.

Natsu sighs relief. “Me too! I just didn’t wanna ruin your fun. Shall I take you home?” He squeezes her hand with a smile.

“Yes,” she returns the squeeze, “and if you’d like you can spend the night— I-I mean since you’re tired and all! I’d just feel better than making you back track.”

“I’ll behave, I promise.”

The couple ride the train the short distance between Shibuya and Shinjuku to where Lucy’s dorm is located, cautious of the other riders on the train. Even though alcohol is not allowed on the streets during Halloween, it didn’t stop people from getting drunk and few creepy peepers kept looking at Lucy. But luckily, the train wasn’t very packed despite the holiday because the Shibuya party wasn’t over till 4am and they beat the end rush. On the way, Natsu texts his roommate out of courtesy, only to find out that Gray and Juvia were already at the apartment. Figures. Well it was a good thing he wasn’t walking into that situation! Even if nothing happened, just watching Juvia fawning all over Gray wouldn’t have been appealing. Once they arrive at the dorms, they make sure no one had followed and proceed inside.

Lucy leaves Natsu in the small living room as she changes out of her costume and into something a lot more comfortable. He was lucky the men’s costume was still semi-normal and he only had to remove the jacket and goggles for comfort, but the black hair dye will wash out in a week. She then grabs them a couple bottles of melon milk tea before joining him on the couch. Thank goodness, they didn’t have school, or he didn’t work the next day.

“That was fun,” Lucy curls against his arm with a yawn. “So, tiring though.”

“I haven’t been to Shibuya’s party in a couple of years, but it sure hasn’t changed,” Natsu chuckles. He leans his head against hers while threading their fingers together. “Totally agree on being tired. It probably wouldn’t be as bad if I hadn’t worked too.”

A companionable silence falls over the couple for a few minutes and after some time Natsu assumed Lucy had fallen asleep resting on his shoulder. He would have stayed in that position till his ass was numb if it kept her relaxed. This beauty queen deserved it and more, and he meant every word he’d told her earlier. The second chance had become a cosmic wish come true and he’d be damned to let anything ruin this between them.

“Hey Natsu?”

“Yeah Luce?”

“Do you think we could pick up from where we left off... in that photo booth?”

He swallows hard. It was one thing in the heat of the moment, but quite another to put aside his nerves now that they were so relaxed. This was a different kind of intimacy and much more intimidating to say the least. A private apartment without anything or anyone to interrupt or stop two consenting adults from going too far... and the last thing he wanted to do was something wrong! A regretted decision would destroy everything built up until that moment. But he couldn’t tell her no either!

Sensing the turmoil, Lucy sits up and turns his face towards her. Her instincts were probably on point earlier about his anxiety. “We don’t have to, if you’re not ready, but I wouldn’t mind making out with you... just a little.” She adds in the goal as a way to allay his fears. And it works. Lucy immediately feels his shoulders relax again. She gently caresses his cheek, her eyes zeroing in on his lips. “I just… like kissing you Natsu.”

“I’ll let you direct then, a-and if I start going too far, just stop me. I won’t get mad, I just...”

“Shh, I know,” she smiles, “and that what I like about you.”

Lucy closes the gap and steals his lips, starting slow, then adding pressure behind it. Her hand slides behind his head, fingers weaving into his messy hair as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. Their tongues tease and test, mouths molding together as teeth clack gently the further, they push each other’s oral boundaries. She could still taste some of the sweetness of the crapes lingering.

His own hands stay glued, one with fingers twined in her hair and the other to Lucy’s side, just below the rib cage. Natsu loses himself in her kisses, they were so soft and sweet, a little adventurous as she ran her tongue once over his canines and giggled. That brought a grin to his lips and a straight arrow through his heart. He wasn’t ready to say it out loud yet, but he loved Lucy. His heart knew it and that’s all that matters, so when the time is right, he’ll tell her, but not yet, he knew she wasn’t ready for that level.

Natsu’s so lost in the kisses he barely registers additional heat against his chest as Lucy’s hand has found its way under his shirt. It wasn’t doing more than simply resting against his pectorals, but it was much further than he’d expected her to venture tonight. Every few minutes her fingers would lightly curl against his skin or move slightly up or down, sending little shivers over his skin. As far as he was concerned, she could do anything she wanted to him as long as it was her choice.

It surprises him when Lucy starts to press forward. At first one of his hands moves to keep from falling back onto the couch, but her sudden whine triggers him to let it happen and the next thing he knows Lucy is using him as a bed. So, he wraps his left arm more firmly around her body to make sure she doesn’t fall off.

Lucy lifts her head to look Natsu in the eyes. “Is this okay?” She questions him. “Am I too heavy?”

“I don’t mind,” he smiles at her, “but are you comfortable? I could shift us over so we’re more on our sides.”

“That would be great. Just felt like snuggling more.”

He kisses her lips. “Works for me.” Natsu then adjusts their bodies carefully until Lucy’s back is resting against the couches backing with her head on his shoulder and chest. She wraps her arm around his torso and huddles close to his frame, while their legs are slightly tangled together. “Comfy?”

“Mmm hmm,” she nods her head against his chest and closes her eyes.

Natsu kisses the top of her head, bringing a smile to her face, then wraps his left arm over to rest his hand on her shoulder and cuddle her close. “Goodnight, Lucy.”

“Mmm. Goodnight, Natsu.”

Eight months ago, the only thing Natsu thought about was a career and now after that fateful train ride he knew his new goal in life had to include the blonde next to him. Lucy felt so perfect in his arms and oh, if only he could wake up like this every morning for the rest of his life, well than he’d be the luckiest man on the planet. With a smile of his own, he closes his eyes and lets the cadence of her heartbeat lull him to sleep. This was a very happy Halloween indeed!

Just to give an idea this is Shibuya on Halloween: I’m so sad I didn’t get to see it this year like I was supposed to ;-; but Natsu and Lucy got to have a little fun in my place lol.

Also a warning, the story gets much more angsty after this for several chapters 😅

#nalu #nalu AU #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #natsu x lucy #angst and fluff #it’s a bit of a ride from here #strangers on a train #fairy tail

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tuffduff · 4 years

Text

Shopping For A Girlfriend (Steven Adler x Reader)

Pairing: fluffy Steven x Reader

Words: 1,772

Request: @the--blackdahlia “Hi! I was just wondering if you would possibly write a steven adler fic. Just fluff lol. Writers choice :)”

A/N: Decided to do a little meet-cute scenario here :) Stevie is just a ball of sunshine and I adore him. Thanks for requesting him, hope you all like it!

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker ❤️

Steven wandered into the little corner drugstore and immediately stopped in his tracks. Why had he volunteered for this job? He had no idea where to even start to look for what he needed.

He picked the first aisle, but that proved fruitless—just makeup products, razors, deodorant, shaving cream—not what he was sent in to retrieve. He stopped walking again and scratched his head, looking around helplessly, hoping one of the store employees would walk by. It wasn’t likely; it was almost midnight and he was pretty sure he was the only one in the 24-hour mart besides the one employee forced to man the register. All he had for company was the pop music playing faintly.

Steven suddenly heard steps behind him and turned, growing hopeful as his eyes landed on you, inspecting nail polish. Your hair, shiny and healthy, was hiding your face from his and you were dressed in an oversized shirt that nearly swallowed you whole with short shorts barely peeking out from underneath. He approached you quickly before he lost his chance.

“Hey, could you help me out?” His words had come out too loud; you jumped and appeared startled at the sight of him. Instinctively, he stuck his hands up. “I’m sorry!” He laughed, smiling as you placed a hand to your chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“…It’s okay.” You gave a hesitant smile back. Your voice was soft and melodic, and your face—now visible—was, to his surprise, very appealing. All of your features formed a very complimentary complexion, but your eyes, taking him in with a mixture of curiosity and hesitancy, were the most beautiful color he had ever seen. He hadn’t even realized you had spoken.

“Sorry, what did you say?” He apologized quickly, feeling himself smile before blurting out, “you’re just really beautiful.”

For a moment you were speechless, and he found himself getting a thrill out of the grin that graced your features; he had a feeling you were hiding a beautiful smile. He felt an extra touch of pride at the slight pink tone to your cheeks. “Oh! Um, well thanks. But uh, you were asking for my help…?” Suddenly, he remembered his task.

“Oh yeah! Thanks, yeah, I was wondering if you knew where I could find a pregnancy test?” Immediately, your smile shrank a bit.

“…Oh, um, yeah. I think I know where you could find that.” He didn’t like the sudden shift in mood.

“It’s not for me!” He explained quickly, laughing a bit to himself; maybe you thought he was an idiot.

“No, of course not.” You replied, and he was still unable to figure out the source of the disappointment dripping into your tone. “Here, should be down this aisle.” Steven followed behind you down the aisle full of feminine products and condoms, watching you stop and bend over to look at the items on the shelf. He tried to keep his eyes from wandering, but he would’ve been lying if he said he wasn’t finding you more and more attractive by the second. “This should do the trick.” You told him, placing a box into his hands.

“You’re amazing! Thanks a bunch!” You only gave him a half-smile and nodded a little.

“Sure…well, good luck with everything.” Steven frowned a little, tilting his head.

“What do ya mean? I told you it’s not for me.” He said. You chuckled a little.

“Of course not, obviously. But I mean, your girlfriend…or wife.” You mumbled, looking down. Steven blinked for a moment before he started laughing.

“Oh, I see what you mean! No, it’s not like that; see, one of my best friends is in the car outside with his girlfriend—well, not really girlfriend; that’s why this would be sort of a problem if she were pregnant. It’s a funny store really—the condom broke. She’s actually probably not, but she kinda got upset right before she was gonna come in, so I just volunteered to get it and didn’t realize I had no clue where to find it. So, you really turned out to be an angel sent to help me out.” He found himself rambling, smiling more and more as your smile returned.

“Oh…” You murmured in embarrassment. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Don’t be!” He reassured you, unable to stop himself from reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. He felt an odd flutter of something stirring in his stomach when your cheeks turned pink again. “Hey, I never even got your name.”

“It’s Y/N.” You smiled. “God, I wish I were wearing something different; I look like a mess right now.”

“I can’t imagine you getting any better.” At this point, he wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he found you to be very beautiful. Never had he seen a more natural beauty in someone before, apparent in your every action.

“You’re just saying that.” You replied, eyes narrowed playfully at him, though your pink cheeks still gave you away.

“Nope, honest! You distracted me from the moment we met.” He smiled at the sound of your laughter. “Hey, Y/N, if I could ask another favor…” he murmured, looking down at the pregnancy test in his hands. “I’m thinking I need a couple more things.”

You helped Steven find the rest of his impromptu list; prenatal vitamins and a bag of gummy bears. “Just in case, you know. I’m not going to assume what she’s going to do if she actually is pregnant, but…just in case. And who doesn’t like gummy bears?” You smiled at him and nodded.

“That’s…really sweet of you. You must be a great friend.” You replied, to which he shrugged despite the fact that your praise had him glowing.

“I try, I mean, I believe in doing good by the people you love, you know? What you give, you get back in the end.” Steven realized to himself the longer he stared at you, the more he voluntarily would have loved to spend the rest of his night doing so. “So, Y/N, you know why I’m here so late, what brings you in here?”

“Well, not really a reason at all.” You admitted. “I actually told myself I was gonna head to bed early tonight, I’ve just been exhausted lately from everything, and yet…here I am.”

“Did it hurt?” Steven asked with a grin, watching your face grow blank with confusion.

“Did what hurt?”

“When you fell from heaven?” You groaned at his words, the both of your laughter combining together. “C’mon—it’s a sign! Clearly we were supposed to meet and you were meant to help me out.”

“Is that all I was meant to do?” You asked hopefully, crossing your arms behind your back and biting your lip. He wasn’t expecting the heavy wave of butterflies that hit him, he didn’t know feelings could just grow like that. But that was that, he was sure he had fallen in love with you.

“I hope not.” He replied quickly. “Do you want to go out sometime?” The both of you were dragging your steps as you headed towards the register, reluctant to let your time together end.

“I’d love that.” You replied with a bright grin and Steven thought he was going to float away, just like in the cartoons.

“Sir, are you paying cash or credit card?” The clerk asked him, popping his dream bubble. He turned his attention back to the lady, digging in his pocket.

“Cash…” He trailed off when he realized the total was more than the cash Slash had given him for the pregnancy test before he came into the store. He didn’t have any more money on him, they weren’t yet making much at their small gigs. “Uh…” he chuckled awkwardly. “This is embarrassing, I’ve only got enough for the test. I’ll just, put the other things back.” He was surprised when your hand stopped his from taking away the other two items.

“I’ve got it.” You told him, already opening your wallet.

“Oh no, Y/N, I could never let you do that.” You shook your head at him and smiled.

“We should do good by other people, you’re right. Let me?” He smiled and finally nodded. If he wasn’t sure before he definitely was now; he was head over heels for you.

“I’ll pay you back, I promise! You’re amazing, Y/N!” He gushed as the both of you walked out of the store.

“Don’t mention it, I don’t mind. But if you want to do something to pay me back…here.” He grew confused when you stopped him from walking and turned him away from you. “Give me the receipt?” Suddenly, he could feel you using his back as a writing surface before handing him the receipt. There was a smiley face and a heart, your name, and your number. “Call me.”

“I definitely will, and don’t be surprised if it’s tonight.” You shook your head at him and giggled.

“Steven, geez, what took you so long? You only had to get one thing!” Slash hollered over at him from where he sat in the car. You peered towards the car curiously, smiling and giving him a lingering touch to his shoulder.

“You should probably go, I’ll be hearing from you soon, okay?” You said, giving him a little wave.

“Totally, I promise! Be careful, okay? Have a good night!” He called, waving back and watching your every step, ignoring Slash honking like he didn’t hear it.

“Did you get lost?” Slash asked when Steven rejoined him in the car.

“Yeah.” He laughed. “But I found it!” He passed the bag to Denise, Slash’s friend. Her face lit up when she looked in the bag.

“You got me gummy bears? Thank you, Steven! Oh…and prenatal vitamins. That’s so nice.” He couldn’t tell from her tone if the purchase was a good thing or not, but that wasn’t exactly his business.

“Just in case, it’s okay if you don’t use them! Or if you don’t have to. Y/N bought them!”

“Who’s Y/N?” Slash asked in confusion. “And where’s my gummy bears…” he muttered, flashing Steven a grin as he laughed.

“Oh, this girl I met in the store—she actually helped me find everything. She’s great, she’s got the prettiest smile—”

“Fuck, Stevie, you were supposed to get one thing and you came out with a girlfriend!” Slash shook his head, laughing a little.

“Hey! Not yet, she isn’t.” He defended himself, but couldn’t keep from smiling, already itching to get to the nearest phone. “But I think she will be.”

#steven adler #steven adler imagine #guns n roses #guns n roses imagine #gnr #gnr imagine

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chilly-me-softly · 4 years

Text

This Can’t Be True • John Stones

Here we go for another day, this is another long long one so enjoy it. This contains a sensitive topic such as death mention so I understand if you won’t read it.

You feel a little weight on your body as you wake up and sigh, almost unconsciously holding onto John.

"Good morning" he whispers in your ear with his hoarse voice, leaving a kiss underneath it and holding you a little longer.

"Morning" you sigh by sinking your head into the pillow as you can but he rolls on his back on the mattress carrying you on him. You complain about the sudden change of position and he giggles, making his bare chest vibrate beneath you.

"Come on, you said you'd get up"

"I hate you" you murmur making his chest vibrate again.

"You said you'd say that too" then you mumble something incomprehensible by pressing your hand on the mattress and lifting your torso from his body.

"I hate you, I mean it" you narrow your eyes making your best threatening face as he shakes his head getting up, a smile always on his face.

But you're quick to jump on his back and wrap your arms and legs around his chest, "That's not true, I love you" you murmur with your face buried in his shoulder and he takes a few steps towards the mirror before stopping.

"I love you too" he looks at your reflection for a few seconds before you start your day and prepare for the different things you have to do that day.

With his suit he is ready to go to practice, and he approaches you wearing your watch in front of the dresser and smiles at you in the mirror before helping you with the necklace and leaving a kiss on your neck.

You're wearing a blue blouse and fancy pants, an important meeting in a few hours that requires a certain outfit and looking at you you are so different now. But you can't be more alike.

You and John have been married for less than two months, still in the honeymoon phase that you postponed waiting for the end of John's football commitments. And honestly it doesn't weigh on you because you have that ring on your finger now and every day you spend with him at home is a constant holiday.

"I've got to go" he says, holding you close but not letting you go.

"Okay" you sigh as you turn towards him and your heels give you a few more inches so you don't have to get up on your toes to kiss him.

"Remember, I have to do something with Kyle so I'll come back later, okay?"

"Okay, I'll see you when you get back" you smile and he smiles before taking your hand and leaving a kiss on your ring before he leaves for good.

You go to your meeting a few minutes later, as usual they require punctuality they don't have. But it's best not to point it out to them since you'd like to keep your job. This goes between useless speeches and pauses and presentations that seem endless and eventually they free you.

You check your watch and hurry out of that building because you have somewhere else to stop before you go home.

"I know, I know I'm late. Sorry, they held me up" you apologize to the guy who's closing the door of his car while you're holding a box in your arms and your shoulder strap could fall off at any moment.

He comes to help you so you can open the front door and you smile at him, "Thank you Kevin"

"Put it there please" you point to the table in the living room while you take off your shoes and tell him you'll be right back, you really need to take off those work clothes now.

When you come down wearing John's sweatshirt and suit pants, Kevin is already rummaging through the contents of the box and gets a little scared when he hears your voice.

"So you're sure John's not coming home right now?"

"He was busy with Kyle, don't worry. And then you're here, practice is long over so" you shrug while he agrees with you.

"So, how's the situation?"

"Well, it's two weeks away but I've already ordered the cake and I only have a few people to warn and... I think John doesn't suspect anything" you comment unrolling a banner and checking that everything is perfectly written.

"Good. The club confirmed, they said we can bring our stuff in a few days before and tell them how to fix everything"

"Perfect"

"Are you sure you don't want to get into a giant cake with a sexy outfit for your groom?" he mocks you again as you roll your eyes giggling lightly, shifting your attention to the phone that started vibrating.

You answer even though it's not a number you have in your contacts, your job involves receiving calls from strangers even quite frequently.

The carefree expression on your face suddenly disappears however, Kevin literally sees your face lose colour and is immediately close to you wondering who is on the phone. You answer the person on the other side as if you were an automaton, on the outside you may look calm but inside you are completely chaotic and you can't think clearly.

"John" you murmur as soon as you hang up, the look lost somewhere while Kevin looks at you worried and alert in case you faint. But still he makes you sit in the chair next to him, wondering what's going on.

"John" you whisper again, "i-it was the hospital they said he had an accident and he-he" you can only explain while your hands are shaking and you grab your cell phone, but it falls on the table making a deafening noise.

"Kyle! He said he was with Kyle" you murmur frantically as Kevin covers your hands with one of his.

"I'll do it, I'll call him" you see him pick up his phone and take it to his ear but it's like you're experiencing something extra corporeal because you can't hear the guy talking. His lips are moving, but your ears don't get a sound.

He squeezes your hand again and he doesn't have his phone to his ear, "What's wrong?"

"He said he's not with him. He-he didn't see him after practice"

Trying not to show how much the news has upset you, you get up and head for the car keys on the cabinet.

"What do you want to do? No, I'll drive you come on" Kevin is right in front of you, taking your keys away, and you just nod off to the door and wait for him to follow you.

You don't know where to go. You're not a hospital lover and fortunately you've never needed to go in there for yourself or anyone you know, they look like mazes and all that white just adds to the sense of disorientation in those corridors that all look the same.

You ask for information at the front desk and the nurse looks at you sorry when you tell her why you are there, before sending you in the right direction. Reading all the signs on the way, your heart begins to beat faster as a larger sign on a door tells you that you are there. Your legs almost give way, but you have to be strong as you keep repeating yourself.

Kevin keeps watching you, you haven't said a word since you got in the car and he doesn't want to force you. The situation is delicate though, and he doesn't know if it's more appropriate for you to call someone, maybe a member of your family.

The doctor who comes to meet you explains what happened. Apparently there was a head-on collision between two cars and the people involved did not make it. They need to get an ID from the person closest to the victim, it's procedure, and since you're his wife, it's up to you.

He takes you to a room where there is a window hidden by a curtain, the doctor tells you to take as much time as you want and you stare at that grey shutter in terror. Until you nod your head.

The doctor then goes a few steps away, knocks on that glass and the curtain goes up. It only takes you a few seconds to turn around and bury your face in Kevin's chest. The boy holds you in his arms as warm tears finally start streaming down your cheeks.

That's not him. An entire brick house is moving away from your heart and your stomach at the same time, it's not him.

"It's not him" you whisper as the doctor pulls the curtain down and takes you out of that room.

You can't stop crying while the doctor apologizes for the unnecessary scare he caused you and as before, it's Kevin talking to him.

"Why... why did you think he was my husband?" you wonder. You want to know what's going on. Because apparently John lied to you and you really want to try and figure it out and know where he's at this point.

"The police told us the car is registered to his name and his wallet and phone were also found inside it"

You look Kevin disoriented, how did that day when you were supposed to take care of the final details for John's birthday party end up like that?

And you come home, the boy walks you to the door where Kyle's waiting for you. You hold him close to you and some tears slip from your eyes as he takes the keys out of your hands and opens the door for you. All three of you enter the house in silence, interrupted only by you sniffing and trying to get yourself into a clear head.

"Where is he, Kyle?" you ask coldly, but your voice is shaking. You're on the couch, your back slightly forward and your elbows on your knees while your hands are joined together and your thumbs go to massage your temples.

"I don't know" he replies and your head snaps up so you can look him in the eye.

"Please, I don't care where he is. I just want to know if he's okay"

"I don't know, really. All I know is that he had something to do and asked me to cover him up" he admits as he lowers his gaze at the end and a tear falls on your cheek, ending up undisturbed all the way to your neck.

"I have to call the police" you murmur as you reach into your pockets for your phone.

"Maybe we should wait a little longer, normally-"

"He's out there who knows where, alone, with no ID or phone. You're crazy if you think I won't do anything"

"It's not what I'm saying, but they won't do anything until 24 hours after he disappeared"

"Then we'll go out and look for him. Guys, I can't-" but your sentence is interrupted by the door opening.

John walks into the living room and doesn't even have time to see you actually there, that you're on to him. He takes a few steps backwards caught off guard, sticking his hands under your butt so you don't fall over while you're crying on his shoulder.

"Hey what happened?" he murmurs softly caressing your head and leaving a few kisses on your temple. You keep crying without giving him an answer, happy to see him apparently safe and sound.

Then your legs give way and then he gently slides you down, holding you by your hips until he's sure your feet are firmly on the ground.

"Hey" he repeats again, taking your face in his hands, "What happened?" but you shake your head between the sobs, you can't speak, so he asks the question again but to his friends.

The two of them look at each other before nodding and Kyle tells him to sit down first, so he sits on the couch carrying you down with him and holding you.

"Where were you?" your voice comes muffled to his ears before either one of them can say anything and John sighs.

"It doesn't matter now, I want to know what happened here now"

"Yes, it does! I had to go and recognize a dead body because they thought it was you!" you hit him in the chest while he opens his eyes wide, "And for crying out loud I couldn't find you John and you weren't with Kyle! So I need to know where you were and I want to know now"

He holds you in his arms again, an incredulous expression on his face as he glances at the two boys in the room as if looking for confirmation.

"I'm sorry love, I'm so sorry. I just wanted to surprise you so I asked Kyle to cover for me, then a woman was assaulted and I stepped up to defend her and this guy ran off with my car. I was at the police station until now to file a report"

"Oh my god, so he robbed you and then he... died?" you look him in the eye while he puts his thumb on your still wet cheek and then shrugs.

"I guess so"

The boys just stay a few more minutes to make sure you're both okay before they decide to leave you alone. You hug them both thanking them for being near you, the red one in particular, before closing the door and returning into John's arms. His gentle touch and heartbeat calm you instantly, but you can't help but think back to everything that happened in such a short time.

The situation has helped to make you understand even more that it's with him that you want to spend the rest of your life, in his arms, and if something happens to him you are not ready to let him go yet. You haven't experienced anything of your love story yet and it scares you to know that your life could really change on any given day. You don't know how you'd react if he was actually on that table.

"Me and the guys are throwing a surprise party for your birthday" you murmur suddenly and you're not looking at him but you can feel his smile as he leaves a kiss on your head.

"I can't imagine I almost had to cancel it for a..." you can't say it, your eyes get wet again and then he raises your face putting his hands on your cheeks.

"Hey hey look at me, I'm here. I'm here, okay? And I'm not going anywhere"

"Please" you beg with your broken voice.

"I'm here" he repeats before placing his lips on yours and tears mingle with passion, worry, love.

That night passes restlessly, but John is always beside you holding you and reminding you that everything is fine. Your fingers intertwined and your head on his heart.

#john stones #john stones imagine #john stones imagines #football imagine #football imagines #one years project #my writing #original

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