#This started off as a quick sketch and turned into me occasionally working on it for weeks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mxpothos · 2 years

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Drawn To Each Other: Chapter 2

Summary:

"Thanks again, Steven, I’ll see you later."

She forced herself to let go. She looked up at Steven, their faces only inches apart.

Steven reluctantly loosened his grip and stepped back from her. He didn’t try to hide the slightly dazed expression on his face.

A look passed between them, and a feeling that things were different now.

She smiled, waved, and headed out the door into the rain.

Pairing: Steven Grant/Original Female Character, Steven Grant/Reader Word Count: 7.7k Rating: General, future chapters will be 18+ Tags/Warnings: Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Eventual Romance, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut

Read Chapter 1 here!

[Image ID: A text conversation with a contact named Fatima. The first message from Fatima says "Hey J - I'm staying over with Toni tonight. Can you feed Roxy when you get home? 🐩" The reply message says "For sure, have fun!" Then two more messages from Fatima say " Cheers" "Say hi to museum boy for me lol" The final reply message shows 3 emojis making the same exasperated face - 😑😑😑" End ID ]

She isn’t sure exactly when it happened, but at some point in the last few weeks Jess’s lunchtime museum visits had, more accurately, become Steven visits.

She went back to the museum the day after their first meeting. Steven seemed surprised, but very happy, to see her. She did her best to keep it light and casual. A brief greeting on the way in, and a quick sketch show-and-tell chat on her way out.

At first, she attempted to stick to her usual routine of 2-3 museum visits a week. She forced herself to eat in the office cafeteria the rest of the week and definitely did not think about Steven the whole time, of course not.

Then she started putting off her cafeteria days in favor of museum days. Oh, I'll go see Steven today and just eat at the cafeteria tomorrow. Then tomorrow would come - Well it's such a nice day, it would be a waste to spend it indoors. May as well walk to the museum. Pretty soon, Jess was visiting Steven every day. Their chats got longer, and her time spent sketching got shorter. Though, of course, she still kept up with her sketching. For plausible deniability, if nothing else.

Jess was flipping through her recent sketches when she realized she had documented her own descent into crush-land. Each page gradually became less detailed and more impressionistic. At first she wandered deep into the exhibits in search of a drawing subject, but then started sketching artifacts that were closer and closer to the shop. Eventually, she started sketching still lifes of museum merchandise and portraits of visitors within sight of the gift shop counter while listening to Steven wax poetic about whatever subject was on his mind that day.

Their chats meandered from topic to topic. Steven loved to tell her about the history behind the artifacts she drew. Their religious or political significance, where they were discovered, how they came to be part of the museum's collection, and the fight for repatriation.

Steven often told her about the latest book he had read, which seemed to be a new one every day she saw him. He also sheepishly shared his wish to become a tour guide, and Jess encouraged him not to give up on it. He was too good to be cooped up in a gift shop all day.

Jess talked to him about music, movies, and events she went to around the city, with the occasional political rant thrown in. They swapped stories about their pets, her cat and his goldfish Gus. They also both loved to trade workplace gossip and bemoan their work commute struggles.

Steven always listened to her intently and asked insightful questions. Jess had grown used to having fairly one sided conversations with men, many often seemed to wait their turn to speak instead of actively listening and engaging with her thoughts. It was refreshing to have such a generous conversation partner like Steven.

At first, Jess worried she was reading too much into things. Maybe she was taking it too far by visiting him every day. After all, he’s at work, right? He can’t very well leave, or tell her off if he doesn’t want her there. He’s always nice to her and seems happy to see her, but that’s his whole job isn’t it? He has to be like this with everyone.

Jess quickly realized that Steven wears his heart on his sleeve and his feelings on his face. Like, all over his face. If he didn’t want her around, he would not be able to hide it.

Jess learned this the first time Steven’s boss dropped by the shop while she was visiting him. One moment Steven was as bright and animated as could be, but then the second he caught a glance of Donna his whole demeanor deflated into one of pure distaste.

Today, Steven watched Donna with a deeply unimpressed look on his face as she prattled on about inventory, and scolded him for not selling more of the jelly scorpion candies.

“I mean c’mon Stevie. How many families with children come through here every day? Would it kill you to push the sweets when they’re checking out their purchases? Honestly.” Donna she tapped her pen on the counter for emphasis.

Steven gave her a grimace that only barely passed for a smile.

“Alright, sure thing, Donna. And for the hundredth time… it’s Steven. Not Stevie.”

Donna rolled her eyes as she marched off to harass someone else.

Jess had been taken aback at Steven’s directness with Donna. She had only ever seen him be sweet and chatty, or bashful and a bit awkward. She had assumed he was like that with everyone.

Jess leaned forward to rest her forearms on the counter, and looked back at a now exasperated Steven.

“Wow, she seems insufferable. Good on you for telling her off about getting your name wrong, though.” Jess said, trying to lift his spirits again.

Steven looked up at Jess, slightly surprised, and waved off her comment.

“Ah it’s nothing, I swear I have to remind her nearly every day. I’ve been working here for how long, and she still can’t get it right? Ridiculous. And JB, the security guard? He’s even worse.” he scoffed.

Jess felt a mixture of sadness that these people thought so little of Steven they didn't even try to get his name right, and admiration that Steven refused to be worn down by their thoughtlessness.

“No, that's seriously impressive, Steven," she insisted. "There’s this VP at work who always calls me Jen, and I’ve never bothered to correct him. I don’t know why… It’s intimidating I guess. He’s way higher up than me.”

Steven looked at her in confusion.

“What’s his position got to do with it? It’s not your fault that twit can’t remember your name, you don’t have anything to feel bad about.”

Jess gave a wry laugh.

“I mean, technically, no. But he’d probably get offended if I corrected him. I dunno. It doesn’t feel worth it. It’s not like I’m going to stay at that company for the rest of my life.” Jess rubbed her arm self consciously.

Steven furrowed his brow and moved a bit closer to her.

“Well, so what if he gets offended? That’s not your problem, yeah? He’s calling you by the wrong bloody name. Why should you be expected to coddle his feelings?”

When he said it like that, it suddenly seemed so simple. Why should she feel bad about it? Why did it feel so big and scary to assert herself in such a small way? Steven was here doing it every day, apparently. Why couldn’t she?

Jess folded and unfolded her arms where they leaned on the counter. She looked back into Steven’s eyes for a moment and smiled shyly.

“I hadn’t really thought about it like that… thanks.”

Steven gave her a small grin. He gently reached his hand out to rest on her forearm and squeezed it reassuringly. Before her mind could process his gesture, Steven jerked his hand back and started stammering out an apology.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean...I wasn’t trying to -”

Jess could still feel the warmth of his hand on her arm as he stepped away from her.

“Hey, you’re fine, it’s okay.” Jess tried to put him at ease. Thankfully it was a particularly slow day at the museum, so there wasn’t anyone around to notice them.

“No, I'm sorry, that was inappropriate. I’m an employee, you’re a visitor… I shouldn’t have…” Steven trailed off and fiddled with a stack of keychains behind the counter.

“Steven…" Jess felt herself approaching the invisible line at the end of the casual acquaintances zone they were occupying, and hesitated to cross over into what lay beyond. She looked at Steven's disheartened face, and took the plunge.

"Steven, seriously. I appreciate your concern but I didn't find that inappropriate.”

Jess weighed her next words carefully.

“I’d like to think we’re….friends? By now? "

Steven lifted his head to look at her, an unreadable expression on his face.

"You would?" He said it questioningly and hopefully at the same time.

"Of course, I mean… we’ve been hanging out a lot. We’ve seen each other nearly every day for over a month, right? We talk about all kinds of stuff. That’s a little more than just acquaintances or a customer/employee relationship, right?”

The word “relationship” felt so loaded as it came out of her mouth. Jess tried not to think about it and barreled ahead.

“It’s normal for friends to be... well, friendly with each other, yeah?” she offered hopefully.

Steven looked at her thoughtfully, his eyes softening.

“I…yeah, heh, I s’pose so.” He fidgeted his hands together.

Before she could stop herself, Jess reached across the counter and gently gripped Steven by the forearm. She squeezed encouragingly, returning his earlier gesture. Steven looked down at her hand on his arm for several seconds before looking back up at her. She smiled at him warmly, and gave another squeeze before letting go.

Steven felt like he could cry.

They stood in a blooming silence for several moments, gazing at each other.

Jess’s phone timer abruptly pierced the quiet, signaling that her lunch break was nearly up.

“Goddammit… I need to get going” Jess muttered as she silenced her phone. She looked at Steven apologetically.

“O’course, o’course. Back to the old grind, eh?” Steven replied a bit too quickly, straightening up his posture and smoothing down the front of his button up shirt, “I probably ought to work on whatever the hell Donna was telling me about the inventory, earlier” he said with an over-dramatic eye roll for emphasis.

Jess giggled at his expressions.

“Good luck with that, I think you’ll need it.” She chuckled.

“Nah, nothing I can’t handle. I’ve dealt with far worse.” Steven said with a teasing grin.

Something about the way he said it made Jess think he wasn’t joking.

“Well, see ya tomorrow then.” Jess made sure to catch his eyes one more time before turning to leave.

“Cheers. And… thank you.” Steven replied.

Jess paused and turned back to him.

“What for?” She queried.

Steven shrugged his shoulders.

“For being a friend. I've… not had very many.” He said plainly.

Jess held his warm gaze and grinned back at him.

“Glad to.” She said softly.

She turned to leave again and walked back to the office in a happy daze.

As she neared the building entrance, the company VP was walking out. He held the door for Jess as she approached.

“Good afternoon, Jen.” he said magnanimously.

“Afternoon.” Jess mumbled as she passed. Halfway through she stopped, thinking back to her conversation with Steven.

“It’s Jess, by the way.”

“Pardon?” the VP looked at her with confusion.

“My name, it’s Jess. Not Jen.” She looked him in the eye. “Just wanted to let you know.”

The VP nodded.

“My apologies, Jess.” He eyed her for a moment, and turned to leave. “Good afternoon.”

He said it like a dismissal rather than a greeting this time.

But Jess didn’t care. She felt so powerful she could walk through a brick wall.

She couldn’t wait to tell Steven tomorrow.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

Steven was actually relieved to be on inventory duty, for once. It let him think about Jess with minimal interruption while he mindlessly scanned items into the system.

He had been overjoyed when she came back to chat with him the day after their first meeting, and again the week after. He didn’t say anything when she started visiting every day, or when she spent more time hanging out at the gift shop than enjoying the museum. But he had certainly noticed.

In truth, Steven was mildly terrified. Good things never seemed to last for him. And this felt far, far too good to last. After everything that had happened with Harrow and Ammit, Konshu, learning to live with Marc, and without Layla…. Trying to find his new “normal” had sometimes felt like an exercise in futility. Jess coming into his life had been an unexpected bright spot he leaned on more than he probably should. But how could he not? She was… lovely. And kind. And endlessly fascinating.

Steven realized he never had someone he could talk to like her. Someone who didn't seem to think he was weird or annoying or make faces when he rambled too much. Someone who actually spoke back to him, unlike Gus or the living statue bloke he used to see in the park. Especially someone who actually sought him out day after day, who remembered everything he told her, and who laughed at his bad jokes. This was all embarrassingly new territory for Steven.

Steven punched in the final bits of information into the inventory system and swiveled around in the desk chair. He technically had 5 minutes left in his shift. He considered sneaking out anyway. Donna would probably be too busy chatting with her buddies in the administrative office to notice where he was.

Steven shouldered his messenger bag with a sigh, and headed for the exit. He gave an obligatory wave to JB as he passed the security desk.

"Evenin', JB"

"Yeh, see ya Scotty." JB didn't even glance away from the wall of monitors in front of him.

"It's still Steven, it's always going to be Steven, JB." He monotoned without breaking his stride.

Steven stepped outside into the cool evening air. He picked up some takeaway from a curry house on his way to the bus, which came on time for once. He sat on the upper level and replayed his conversation with Jess over in his head. He could almost still feel her touch.

Steven couldn't explain what made him reach out to hold her arm like that. It just felt…natural, in the moment. He didn't even think about it. At first, anyway. That she reciprocated and seemed to genuinely consider him a friend….

Steven felt the internal duel between his fluttering heart and his worried mind. What happens now? At the very least, he was happy to have a friend. But he wanted, had long wanted, to be so much more for Jess. Could she ever feel the same?

Steven let his mind wander, imagining what it would be like to hold her in his arms, to bury his face in her neck. He thought about how she looked at him with such warmth and wit in her eyes, and wondered what it would be like to kiss her softly, then deeply.

The bus jolted to a stop and shook Steven from his hazy daydream. Who was he kidding, he'd never even seen her outside of the museum. Or in anything other than office clothes. They'd never so much as shared a meal or taken a walk together. They'd talked and talked but there were so many ways that he still didn't really know her.

I'll say it again, just ask her out once and for all.

Steven looked up at his reflection in the bus window. Scoffing, he pulled out his cellphone and pressed it to his ear to avoid drawing attention to himself.

"Oh sure, just like that, eh?" he attempted to whisper.

Marc shrugged and nodded his head.

Uh, yeah, just like that. Worst case she says no and you move on with your life.

Steven groaned at Marc's glib answer.

"Marc, honestly…" he heaved a sigh, "I don't want to muck things up with her, what if she isn't interested? I don't want to scare her off."

Marc raised an eyebrow.

You're not asking her to marry you, just ask her out for coffee or tea or something.

Steven knew Marc was right, but it felt like such a monumental hurdle to cross he could scarcely imagine it.

Marc shook his head and softened his voice.

I know it feels scary, but I'm pretty sure she's into you too. And if she isn't…we'll get through it. It'll be okay. You'll never know if you don't try, right?

Steven nodded reluctantly.

"I s'pose you're right." He furrowed his brow and looked back at Marc, "How did you know I was thinking about her anyway?"

Marc snorted out a laugh and threw his hands up.

Who ELSE do you think about or talk about anymore?

Touché.

"Oh sod off, you." Steven mumbled with a grin.

Marc laughed again, and in a flicker Steven's reflection resumed its usual appearance.

Steven stuffed his cellphone back into his bag and looked out the window. After a few more minutes he signaled for his stop, and carried his curry takeaway home to Gus.

His head was still swirling with thoughts of Jess, and Marc's advice, by the time he settled down to sleep.

Maybe tomorrow he could time his tea break to coincide with her lunch break, and ask her to join him in the museum cafe. That's something friends might do, right? Nice and low-key, nothing major. A small step forward in their new friendship.

Steven rolled over and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

"Motherfuck…." Jess hissed under her breath. She stared at the meeting invite that had just landed in her inbox.

Emergency all-hands meeting, 12-1pm Mandatory attendance

Wonderful. There had been rumors that company layoffs might be coming. Jess had noticed several of her coworkers getting called into meetings with management all morning, and none had come back to their desks since.

This all-hands meeting was scheduled exactly when Jess normally took her lunch break. She supposed a late lunch wouldn't be the end of the world, but it still ticked her off.

"Alright folks, gather 'round."

Her boss's voice suddenly filled the floor.

"I'm afraid I'll need everyone to report back here immediately after the all-hands meeting. We've had some… staffing changes this morning, and we'll be spending the rest of the day reviewing all ongoing projects for immediate reassignment. If you haven't had lunch yet, I would strongly suggest bringing something back from the cafeteria. We'll all be having a working lunch today."

He shuffled back into his office and closed the door behind him.

"MotherFUCK." Jess hissed again. She sank back into her chair and rubbed her temples.

Her irritation gave way to worry.

Steven.

She hadn't missed a visit with him in weeks. She didn't have his contact info, so she couldn't let him know she was going to be held up at work today.

Fuck. Why did she never get his phone number? Hopefully he doesn't worry or feel slighted by her absence.

Doubt quickly creeped into her mind. Was she being presumptuous? Why did she assume he'd miss her today? Well, yes they'd sort of had a sweet moment yesterday, but … maybe she was reading into things too much.

She didn't have long to ponder, as her workmates began filing out of their cubicles and over to the mandatory meeting. Jess sighed and hauled herself up from her seat.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

Steven checked his watch again.

12:35pm.

She would normally have been here by now.

Steven scanned the crowd of visitors for the 10th time in the last minute. Nothing.

He bounced his knee nervously as he sat behind the counter. He tried to convince himself that it meant nothing, maybe she was home sick or something came up at work or she just didn't feel like walking over to the museum today. But he couldn't stop the sinking feeling in his gut that she had purposely stayed away because of what he did yesterday.

"Bollocks…what an idiot." He muttered to himself.

Of course. He had totally misjudged the nature of their relationship, or lack thereof. She'd only been humoring him and now she wanted nothing to do with him. It was too good to be true, he should know this by now. Steven Grant doesn't get to have a nice normal life. He doesn't get to know what it's like to have friends or fall in love or anything like that. He's too broken, too strange… not good enough.

He spent the rest of his shift working in silence and ignoring every reflective surface in his vicinity.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

What a terrible day. Jess couldn't decide what sounded better right now, getting wasted or decking the first stranger who looked at her wrong. She stomped down the street towards her bus stop after staying at work an hour later than usual, thanks to all the reassignment fuckery. She'd gotten a couple of projects that at least looked more interesting than her usual duties, but right now she was too frustrated to see any upsides to the situation.

She paused to check her phone, and glanced up to see the museum on the next block. Jess felt the twinge of guilt return. She would love nothing more than to see Steven right now, maybe vent a little, but mostly explain what had happened today. Jess searched her memory. The museum was closed, but she thought she remembered Steven saying he got out of work around this time. Maybe she could wait around the front steps for a little bit and catch him as he left. Or would that be too weird? She didn't want to come across like a stalker. Or, again, maybe she's overthinking this whole thing. He probably just shrugged off her absence.

As Jess debated what to do, she saw her bus approaching in the distance. She sighed and decided to just get herself home before she could make any stupid, stress-fueled decisions.

Jess jogged the rest of the way to the bus stop and made it just in time.

As she climbed on and found a seat, Steven exited the museum.

"Bloody hell, as if I needed today to get any worse." He watched the bus drive away without him.

Steven resigned himself to walking home. He didn't want to stand around waiting for the next bus.

Jess rested her head against the bus window as it rolled down the street.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

"Hey girl you're home late - woah, you alright?" Fatima eyed Jess with concern as she gloomily stepped inside their shared flat, locking the door behind her with a bit more force than needed.

"Yeah…just had a rough day." Jess exhaled as she dropped her bag on the floor and yanked off her shoes.

"Uh-oh, did your museum boy do something wrong?"

Jess bristled at her flatmate's mention of Steven.

"No, Fatima. I didn't even see him today. I had to work through lunch and stay late at the office. They sacked a bunch of people, and all of their projects had to get reassigned."

Jess collapsed on the couch next to Fatima and attempted to zone out to whatever reality dating show she was watching.

Fatima slid closer to Jess and threw a friendly arm around her shoulder.

"Aww, poor dearie, I'm sorry you missed him today. I'm sure his memory is better than your last fella. He'll still remember you tomorrow." Fatima jostled Jess's shoulders as she spoke in an exaggerated motherly tone. Jess couldn't help cracking a smile.

"Oh, shut it already." Jess said with a laugh.

Fatima grinned as she rose from the couch.

"That's my girl. Dunno why you haven't asked him out yet, but, as you like to remind me, that's none of my business." Fatima held her palms up in the air as she walked to the kitchen. She paused to turn back to Jess.

"I made dinner by the way, want some?"

Jess smiled gratefully at her flatmate and nodded.

"Yes, you're the best Fatima."

"Damn right I am." she shouted as she disappeared around the corner.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

Jess stared at the time on her computer, practically counting down the seconds until lunch. The office was still working through the chaos from the day before, but she was determined to see Steven today.

At the stroke of noon she grabbed her bag and headed out the door. She didn't even bother picking up any food, she just booked it straight to the museum.

She hustled up the front steps and through the entrance doors, dodging tourists and school groups as she made her way towards the Egyptian section. She turned the corner, and over the clusters of visitors she saw Steven sitting behind the gift shop counter. He was busy ringing up a customer and hadn't seen her yet.

Jess realized she was breathing heavily from her brisk walk, and ducked back into the hallway to catch her breath.

Okay, just be normal. Everything is normal. Just be normal.

She peeked back around the corner. Steven handed the customers their bagged purchases and they walked out of the exhibit. There weren't any other customers in line, and the shop was quiet again. Jess took a deep breath and walked in.

Reminiscent of their first meeting, Steven did a double take when he caught sight of Jess approaching the counter.

"You're back, I-I mean, hi!" The relief in his voice was palpable.

Jess felt her heart twinge at the implication his reaction carried. He did care.

"Steven, I'm so sorry about yesterday." She fiddled with the strap of her bag. "My company sacked a bunch of people."

Jess noticed a look of panic flash across Steven's face.

"Oh, no, I'm fine! My job didn't get cut. But my boss made everyone work through lunch and stay late to get things figured out. It sucked."

Steven visibly relaxed as Jess explained her previous day's absence. She wasn't sick of him, she wasn't repelled by him, and she even felt bad that she couldn't see him yesterday.

He didn't say anything after Jess finished speaking. Jess searched his face for any indication of what he might be thinking.

"So…."

"D'you want to go to the cafe?" Steven asked abruptly.

Jess blinked, "What? Sure, where?"

Steven chuckled nervously.

"Sorry, I mean, I was going to take my break at the museum cafe. Would you… want to join me? They have tea and coffee and sandwiches and things like that." He paused before adding, "You can use my employee discount!"

Jess felt a rush of pure joy crash through her.

"That sounds excellent, yes, let's go!"

Steven beamed at her and stepped out from behind the gift shop counter. Jess realized she'd never been this close to him without the counter separating them. It felt mildly salacious.

He took a few steps before pausing.

"Er, just a moment, I've gotta…" he fumbled for his employee radio and pressed a button.

"Donna, this is Steven. I'm taking my break now, can you send someone to cover the shop till I get back?"

The radio crackled and Donna's voice pierced the air.

"You're killing me Stevie, give me some warning before wandering off why don't y-"

Steven turned down the volume on the radio and shoved it back in his pocket.

"Right, let's go!"

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

Steven and Jess settled into a table by the windows and chatted as they tucked into their purchases. Steven had tea and a pastry, Jess had a sandwich and sparkling water. The museum cafe was a little pricier than Jess would normally prefer, but Steven's employee discount had knocked their bills down a decent amount.

"So… did you grow up in London?" Jess realized that in all of their conversations, Steven had never mentioned his upbringing.

Steven paused at the question.

"Er, not exactly. I'm technically from America. I was born in Chicago."

Jess certainly wasn't expecting that.

"Really? Wow, I never would have guessed. Do you get to visit home very much?"

Steven looked down at his tea.

"No, not for a while. My family…. Well, we're not very close."

Noted.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Steven braced himself for her reaction.

"It's hard when we don't get the families we deserve…or when they can't love us for who we are." Jess tried to offer some understanding without making Steven feel like he needed to elaborate.

Steven breathed an internal sigh of relief. He didn't feel ready to explain everything yet. People could be surprisingly judgemental if you admitted to being estranged from your family. He was glad Jess seemed to understand why it might happen.

"What about you, where did you grow up?" Steven returned the question.

Jess told him about her childhood and where her family was from, and how she came to live in London.

"I share a flat with my friend Fatima, but I think she's going to move out with her girlfriend when our lease ends. They've been together a while now."

Jess absentmindedly stirred her drink with her straw. It was nice getting to hang out with Steven without the looming threat of a customer or Donna interrupting them. She could get used to this.

"Yeah, it's just me and Gus at my old flat. It's nice to be on your own but it can get lonely at times. Don't tell Gus I said that, though."

Steven gave Jess a conspiratorial wink. Jess's brain immediately melted into goo.

"Your secret is safe with me." Jess giggled.

"So, if Fatima moves in with her girlfriend, will you move in with anyone else? Like a girl.. boy…friend?" Steven took a long sip of his tea, trying to look casual.

Jess smirked.

"No, I think I'll probably try to get my own place. Most of my other friends live with their partners. I'm not dating anyone, so, no other flatmate candidates to speak of."

Steven was secretly relieved to hear she wasn't already seeing anyone. He would still be happy being friends with her, but…maybe they had a chance.

The sound of heavy rain hitting the pavement caught Jess's attention. She looked out the window, and realized it had abruptly started pouring outside. Great.

"Ughhh crap, I left my umbrella at the office." She leaned back into her seat with an exasperated sigh.

Steven turned to the rain outside, and looked back at Jess.

"You can borrow mine, I have one stashed in my locker."

"No way, you'll probably need it later." Jess waved her hand nonchalantly, "I'll be fine. It won't be the first time someone got surprised by the rain during their lunch break."

Steven gently, but firmly, insisted.

"I won't be going anywhere besides home later today, I don't mind dealing with a drizzle on the way. But you've got to go back to work and sit in an air conditioned building for a few more hours. Seriously, I'll go grab my umbrella. Won’t take half a minute."

Steven had already started walking out of the cafe before Jess could protest. She sat back and couldn't help smiling to herself. What a sweetheart this man was.

Steven returned shortly, and plopped a medium sized umbrella on the table.

"There you are! And don't worry about getting it back to me."

"Thank you, really. But I'm definitely going to worry about getting it back to you." Jess laughed as she placed a hand on the umbrella. "I'll feel terrible if you get rained on without it."

Steven playfully bowed his head in defeat and chuckled.

"Alright, if it makes you feel better." He felt a flutter in his chest at the thought of her worrying about him.

Jess normally left work a bit before the museum closed, so she was pretty sure she could swing by and return Steven's umbrella on her way home. Steven said he'd wait for her around the front entrance to make things easier.

"I really appreciate it, Steven."

They walked slowly from the cafe towards the exit.

"It's no trouble, don't need you getting caught in a downpour if it can be avoided."

They paused as they neared the entrance doors.

"Well, laters gators!" Steven gave a little wave.

Before she could think it through, Jess impulsively stepped forward and pulled Steven into a hug.

It was brief, but it was easily the best either of them had felt in a long time.

Steven was momentarily stunned, then carefully wrapped his arms around her. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the moment. He tried to commit it all to memory… the way she felt pressed up against him in his arms, the way she smelled, the way she held onto him.

Jess was surprised at how muscular Steven felt. His strong chest and arms locked her in his embrace. He also smelled incredible. Like a vintage cologne in an old library, with a natural masculine undertone. He felt…safe.

She could stay here forever.

"Thanks again, Steven, I’ll see you later." Jess forced herself to let go. She looked up at Steven, their faces only inches apart.

Steven reluctantly loosened his grip and stepped back from Jess. He didn’t try to hide the slightly dazed expression on his face.

A look passed between them, and a feeling that things were different now.

Jess smiled, waved, and headed out the door into the rain.

Steven stood rooted to the floor for several moments, before finally shuffling back to the gift shop.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

Jess fired off one more email and logged out for the day.

She quickly gathered up her things and Steven’s rain soaked umbrella. It was still pouring as she stepped outside to head back to the museum. She checked the time on her phone before plunging back into the downpour.

Shit, the museum closes in 10 minutes. Better hustle.

Jess opened her umbrella and marched up the street.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

Steven lingered by the museum entrance. Donna had already passed by once and snarked at him to get back to work. He waved her off with a Sure thing Donna I’ll be right on it and continued pacing the floor, and checking outside from time to time.

“The hell are you doing, Scotty?” JB leaned out from behind his wall of security monitors.

“Just waiting for a friend.” Steven said dismissively, “And for god’s sake it’s Steven!”

“Right, right, sorry Steven.” JB slouched back in his chair and resumed watching cute animal videos on his phone.

Steven peered through the museum doors and down the steps again, but there was no sight of Jess so far. The museum was due to close in 5 minutes. If she didn’t make it in time, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He didn’t really care about the umbrella. But, he had been looking forward to seeing her again today.

“Stevie! Get down to inventory and finish up right now, you can wander around idly when you’re off the clock.” Donna shouted down the hall, the click of her heels getting louder as she approached.

“Yes, I will in a moment Donna, I’m just waiting for someone -”

“I don’t care, you don’t get paid to socialize. Get going this instant!” She stood with her hands on her hips and popped her gum obnoxiously.

“I know, I just -”

“Now!”

“Donna, ple-”

“Now, and I won’t say it again.” She pointed down the hall.

Steven looked out the doors and back at Donna, heaving a sigh.

“Fine, fine, I’m going.”

Donna watched him with crossed arms.

Steven stopped by the security desk as he headed back into the museum.

“JB, could you please do me a massive favor? My friend was going to meet me to drop off my umbrella. Her name is Jess. If she comes in looking for me can you let her know I got held up with work?”

JB barely glanced up from his phone.

“Sure, sure mate. No problem.”

Steven was not entirely convinced, but he didn’t exactly have much of a choice.

“Thanks, JB.”

Steven took one last glance out the museum doors before heading back towards the shop.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

Jess took the front steps two at a time and pushed through the doors with 4 minutes to spare. She closed her umbrella as she looked around the entrance. There were a handful of stragglers making their way out of the museum, but no sight of Steven. She scanned her eyes back and forth as she walked inside.

“Pardon me, miss, the museum is closing. I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Jess looked over to see the security guy, she remembered Steven saying his name was JB, holding an arm out to keep her from walking further.

“Oh, sorry. I was just looking for my friend, he works here.”

“Sure miss, I’m sure he’ll be here tomorrow and you can see him then.”

“No, he’s expecting me. I have to give this back to him.” she gestured towards the folded umbrella in her hand.

“Well, I’m afraid I still can’t let you in this late in the day. I suggest you let your friend know and come back at a better time.”

Now Jess was losing her patience.

“Ok, I just need to give this to Steven. You know, Steven? He works in the gift shop in the Egyptian section?”

JB stared at her for a moment.

“D’you mean Scotty? Oh, sure, that’s right. He mentioned someone might be stopping by.”

JB snickered as he looked Jess up and down.

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t quite believe him. Didn’t think the lad had any friends, ‘specially ones as lovely as yourself.”

Ok, now Jess was pissed.

“Look, can I just go give this to him please?” Jess gave JB the most active bitch face she could muster.

JB didn’t seem to notice.

“Sorry, miss. I still can’t let you in. Maybe you could call him and ask him to come ‘round real quick?”

“I… don’t have his number.”

Goddammit, why hadn't she thought to ask for it earlier?

“Alright, if I left this umbrella with you would you be able to give it to him?” At this point Jess just wanted to end the interaction as painlessly as possible.

“Sure, miss. I’ll get it to him, don’t you worry.” JB said with a smarmy grin.

It was all Jess could do to not openly roll her eyes at him.

“Thanks. Do you happen to have any paper and a pen? So I could write him a note?”

“‘Fraid not miss. We went paperless long ago. Digital age and all that.”

“.....great. Well, thanks for all your help.”

Or, lack thereof.

Jess turned and walked out of the museum, feeling extremely deflated.

Well, that’s that. First order of business tomorrow - it was time to get Steven’s phone number. Jess had had about enough of the communication breakdowns this week.

Also, she suspected that texting with Steven would be as fun as chatting with him in person.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

“...as you can see on our roadmap for Q3, we’ll be focusing on lean initiatives during this quarter. Our goal for Q4 is to leverage these into -”

Jess logged out of Zoom the second the clock hit noon. She didn’t care that the meeting wasn’t done, it was going over its scheduled time and she had things to do.

She listened to some music on her walk to the museum, trying to amp herself up to ask Steven for his digits. It wasn’t a huge thing to ask, but for some reason everything to do with Steven gave her massive butterflies.

As she approached the front entrance, Jess noticed a fleet of charter buses looping around the block. Crowds of school children and chaperones were scattered across the museum grounds.

Great…. Hopefully they hadn’t infiltrated the museum yet.

When she finally made her way into the Egyptian exhibit she saw that Steven was absolutely overrun with pint-sized customers. A disorganized line of hyperactive pre-teens milled around the gift shop. Steven was ringing up a trio of girls who had each picked out Taweret plushies. He seemed to be regaling them with a story about Taweret’s flooding of the Nile as he finished their transactions. The girls giggled and hugged their plushies as he passed each one over to them.

Jess smiled as she took in the scene. Steven looked up as the girls walked away and saw Jess standing on the other side of the crowd. He grinned and waved at her, then mouthed Sorry as he gestured to the horde of students waiting to make their purchases.

It’s ok! Jess mouthed back to him as she waved.

Since it looked like she was in for a wait, Jess settled down on a bench opposite the shop. She pulled out her sketchbook to pass the time. She did a few quick warm-up sketches of the Amenhotep III bust nearby, but her attention kept drifting back to Steven. He was managing the youthful chaos with remarkable ease and charm. Jess gazed at him for a moment, studying the way his hair fell above his brow, the curve of his nose, his ever-present stubble, and the way his lips lifted into an easy grin.

Jess put her pencil to paper and began sketching. Her brows knit together in deep focus. She did a few practice sketches of Steven’s face, each from a slightly different angle. When she was satisfied, she turned the page to start a more detailed sketch. She laid out the basic shapes, then gradually filled in the details and shading. After a little while she sat back to look at the page, pleased with the results.

Jess checked her watch and discovered her break was nearly up. The horde of students in the gift shop was still going strong, as more and more groups passed through. It didn’t look like she’d get a chance to chat with Steven today.

Weighing her options, Jess decided on a course of action. She carefully tore her portrait of Steven out of her sketchbook. She scribbled a note at the bottom then folded the page in half.

Rising from the bench, Jess gingerly waded through the crowd until she got to the shop counter. Steven was watching a boy haggle with his mother about how many chores he would do if she bought him a replica Anubis statue.

Steven turned to glance in Jess’s direction and immediately lit up with a big grin when he caught sight of her. Jess felt that familiar flutter in her stomach and steadied herself against the counter.

“Hiya, sorry about all this.” Steven jerked his head back towards the line of customers.

“It’s no problem, hopefully Donna is pleased with the sales numbers for once.” Jess said playfully.

“Right? She better be.” Steven chuckled. "Oh, and JB let me know you stopped by yesterday evening. Sorry I missed you. Donna practically dragged me back to the inventory room."

"Oh, it’s no problem. I'm actually surprised JB remembered to mention it." Jess laughed derisively.

“So was I, honestly.” Steven admitted with a scoff.

Jess glanced back at the boy negotiating with his mother at the front of the line. It looked like they were coming to some sort of chore agreement, so she didn’t have much longer with Steven.

“Well, hopefully tomorrow will be calmer. Um, here, check out my sketch from today when you get a chance later.” Jess handed Steven the folded page.

Their fingers brushed as Steven took it from her. They each pretended not to notice.

“Brilliant, thanks Jess. I can’t wait to see it.” He beamed at her as he carefully tucked the paper into his jacket pocket.

“See ya, Steven. Good luck with this horde.” Jess nodded towards the crowd.

Steven laughed.

“Laters gators.”

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

Steven didn’t get to take a breath until nearly the end of his shift. This had probably been the busiest day he had ever seen at the museum. Donna was thrilled with their metrics, predictably, but Steven was exhausted.

He was glad he managed to stumble out of the museum in time to catch the next bus home. He collapsed into an empty seat on the upper level with a groan.

What a day.

He leaned back into the seat and slipped his hands into his jacket pockets. He felt a folded piece of paper in his left pocket. Oh - right! Jess’s drawing. He smiled to himself as he pulled it out.

“Let’s see what she drew today,” he mumbled.

He opened it up, and at first he couldn’t process what he was seeing. It was… him? It was him. There on the page, in loving detail, was his own face looking out at him. He felt a flood of emotions rushing through him as he stared.

He looked… cool. Like, he looked pretty handsome. He never thought of himself that way. Between the two of them Marc was definitely the suave, good-looking one. Steven always felt like a walking disaster. But there was no mistaking this as a portrait of anyone other than Steven. It felt strange seeing himself through someone else’s eyes. But if this was how Jess saw him - wow.

After a moment he realized there was a note at the bottom of the page. He straightened out the paper to read it.

It was her phone number.

Steven gasped out a happy laugh.

Beneath the digits it read:

Text me! Or at least send me pics of Gus :)

Xoxo, Jess.

☾ ⋆｡｡⋆ ☽

Jess was sprawled out on the couch watching a movie. Fatima was out with her girlfriend tonight, so she had the house to herself.

She had purposely left her phone on the other side of the room to keep herself from checking it obsessively. If Steven wanted to text her, he would text her. If not, no big deal. Not everyone likes texting. There are other ways to communicate.

Jess paused the movie and got up to grab a snack from the kitchen. While she was digging through the fridge, she heard a tell-tale buzzbuzz from the living room. Followed by another, and then another.

Alright, that was more likely to be Fatima triple texting her than anything else. Jess grabbed a yogurt from the fridge and padded back into the living room. She set her snack down and went to check her phone.

She had three texts from someone who wasn’t in her contacts. She felt her pulse quicken as she opened the messages.

Jess read them quickly, then burst out laughing and fell back onto the couch.

She couldn’t stop smiling as she stared at her phone.

Jess started typing a reply, giggling to herself like a teenager.

The movie she had been watching remained paused for the rest of the night.

----------

[Image ID: A screenshot of a text message conversation. There are three messages from the same sender. The first message is a picture of a goldfish swimming in a fish tank. The second message says "Gus says hello :)". The third message says "(This is Steven)" End ID]

#moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant/reader #steven grant/you #steven grant x original female character #steven grant/original female character #steven grant/ofc #steven grant x f!reader #drawn to each other

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nomorenormalcy · 10 months

Text

Uh oh, art dump!

I've been away far too long, I need to post some art that was completed in the meanwhile. So have a bunch of art.

This is Ærin, a human who ended up becoming a cyborg. I plan on writing them into a story as a secondary character of a Sci-Fi story idea I've been sitting on for literal years.

These are the ponysonas of my husband and myself (from left to right)! It was just a cute and quick drawing and my husband loved it.

This is Caloré Flare, a pyromancer, and Nathan, a skeletal horse! They're from the game World of Warcraft (avid fans would have noticed and asked me why I mentioned it) and this is my most favorite traditional drawing I have ever so far. Yes, They are both on the same level of ground. Nathan is very tall and Caloré is only 5'1".

Master Chief riding a great white shark that I have decided to name Sharkie. This was a wood burning project that my husband and I collaborated on together. I did the sketch, and my husband went over it and burned it into the wood. Sadly, I don't have a photo, but it turned out great! Obvioulsy, Master Chief is from the Halo game franchise. First console FPS I played and my favorite still. Hilariously enough, I don't play it anymore at this time.

A humanized version of my dog, Nula! After all, how else would an energetic Jack Russel mix look?

Loradel Darkflight, blood elf blood knight. I enjoy playing as him and there's a huge family dynamic with him and other characters I have. All of the blood elves I have are connected (except for one) in some way. Even the one void elf.

I have to put these side-by-side as it's a redraw! Ten years between these drawings! Both were drawn for my now husband! We had met in college back in 2010 and have occasionally messaged off and on until it became more regularly when we started dating in late 2019. One year into our two year engagement, I drew the redraw for him! I was quite pleased with the improvement! Funnily enough, I knew nothing of My Little Pony, then.

My ponysona in their earth pony disguise. Only after I finished the drawing did I realize that the mouth was a bit on the long side. Reminded me of the "horses with dog mouths" trend a while back. It's canon, now.

Not only is this cat a reminder that I really need to work on my proportions, but it's also a birthday gift to my little sister as a nod to her nickname from her deadname with the blooms of a sunflower as a nod to her new chosen name! She has this hanging up in her home in a frame. I am a bit bashful about it.

I mean, you see that arm, right???

Just a few sketches of my ponysona doing a couple of poses.

Keeping the pony trend going, we have Balanced Scales! An r63 and r59 (is that the AU internet rule?) of Phoenix Wright from the Ace Attorney franchise. I dove deep into that fandom a while back after looking around on YouTube for some MLP fanfics and saw the crossover there. It was some pretty good work, imo! So I just went, "What if there was a female pony version of Phoenix?" and it kinda spiraled from there... I made the whole cast in Pony Town.

Finu the Helpful! A skittermander biohacker! I played this menace in a Starfinder game with my friends. She's basically if Medic from TF2 had a small mascot character that learned medicine. She ate anything biodegradable and had no issues shooting her allies with needles as much as her foes. Her allies were indeed thankful that those were loaded with boosts and healing potions...

She also once ate a mushroom that was hacking into their ship's computer. That was fun.

HE IS THE SAND DRAGON! DRAGON OF THE SAND! I mostly drew this while thinking of that time in the comic Looking For Group when the party encountered the Sand Dragons. Especially when Richard turned one of them into glass.

A book cover for my story Teamwork (found on AO3, Fanfiction.net, and FimFiction) that I had some fun with. On the cover, we have Breezefeather with the left half in her natural pegasus form and the right in her human disguise! Might make more art of that story at some point. We'll see...

Another story! Cover art of My Little Ninja (also on AO3, FanFiction.net, and FimFiction). I had a lot of fun with the background for this. I'm more than a little upset that the cover just doesn't want to be allowed for some reason on FimFiction... Is it the explosion? If so, wack...

So far, that's all I've got that I would like to share. Some of these may be a repost, but that's fine. I still like them all!

#nmnart #nmnupdates #commissions #commissions open #my little pony #mlp fim #original character #worldofwarcraft #art #traditional art #traditional ink #mixed media #character art #oc tag

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statticscribbles · 3 years

Text

Doodle

Summary: Newt/Reader; Soulmate AU,whatever you write/draw on your skin appears on your soulmates

All throughout school you’d catch doodles and scribbles on your arms; occasionally the faint sketch of some creature but mostly small flowers or magically drawn birds. You’d never figured out who it was during your time at hogwarts; but when you started working in the ministry; the drawings became a comfort, you often wonder if they play a role in your decision to work in the Magical Creature’s department. You don’t usually respond to the drawings, they either appear in places you can’t easily reach due to your clothes covering them; or you’re working on gathering information and trying your best to do research about the creatures everyone wants to destroy. You hate how wrong that feels and you take more comfort in the drawings of the creatures as if they’re being studied, not hunted; soon lists were added; odd ingredients or items. It was a silly habit but you found yourself buying the plants that were most commonly listed as well as keeping a small hoard of galleons for whatever kept stealing your soulmates. You’d never actually talked to him; but one day after he angrily scraped three underlines under ‘liquid seaweed’ did you draw a small frowning niffler next to it; you added a speech bubble and the words “that stung” colouring in the tears. The reaction was immediate; swirls and flowers and branches suddenly heated your skin, magically drawn on. It sunk in your soulmate never realized you’d returned the doodles; just that they had forgotten how much they’d drawn on themselves.

I’ve never thought I would have a soulmate all my time at ----------- I couldn’t ever remember seeing drawings. You frown and the gap in the sentence; you knew locations and names wouldn’t go through. You draw the niffler again; sitting on your wrist and adding a speech bubble filled with magic hearts I always thought you were too busy with whatever you do.

Research. He responds and draws a heart around the niffler.

You like nifflers? You ask and he draws another bunch of hearts before adding. They're cute but they steal everything shiny he adds a frown and you cross over it grinning as you draw yet another niffler holding a heart. They just want love is all; and all your shinies. You look up jumping when you see Thesues Scamander standing in front of your desk looking unimpressed.

“Sorry sir; what can I do for you?”

“I need the report from the incident with the grindylows from the other day. Murklow said that it could be a cover for a Grindelwald meeting.” You nod pulling your sleeve down and waving your wand to pull the report he’s asking for.

“Here you are sir; anything else?”

“Were you talking to your soulmate?” You flush a little at his question, nodding.

“Well if he likes nifflers as much as you; ask about other creatures?”

“Oh that’s a good idea sir!” You grin and he smiles softly.

“Call me Theseus, Y/N.” You nod, waiting until Theseus leaves and then scribbling on your arm a question that your soulmate leaves blank for two hours. Do you like magical creatures or are you like most others? You’re not sure what you’re expecting but you receive a paragraph along your thigh with only a few of the words blanked. You read through all of it twice grinning at how passionately he talks about how misunderstood most creatures are. You draw a niffler offering a heart out and then ask Have you read Fantastic beasts and where to find them? It just came out; I love it. You grin to yourself when a string of hearts answers your question. What do you think of the author? You chew your lip jumping when your boss calls you for a new case. You scowl at the information; most of the department still believed in the older information of most of the magical creatures. The new case was investigating a group of knarls that were nearing a muggle area. You spend the rest of the day gathering as much information about the area the knarls were last seen and what you’ll need to capture and relocate them.

Sorry work got busy; I love the author, he seems so kind and wonderful. You offer frowning when there’s no reply.

“Y/N!” You turn when you hear your name called and are surprised to see Thesues walking over.

“Yes?”

“You’re working on that Knarl case right?” You nod letting Theseus update you on the whereabouts, apparently the knarls were only in the muggle area because there’s a Jarvey that took over there home.

“A Jarvey.” You scowl sighing.

“Thank you Theseus; this makes dealing with it a lot easier; at least I can sort of talk to the Jarvey.” You roll your eyes and he grins.

“You off home now?”

“No; I’m off to go see if I can find the Jarvey; or the Knarls.”

“You think you can talk to them?”

“The Knarls yes; the Jarvey, hopefully.” You wave goodbye to Theseus as you take the floo network home.

Do you know about Jarvey’s? I have to deal with one soon. You wait for a reply as you pack a bag; drumming your fingers as you get no response before you apparate to the area that the report said they were in.

To catch one? You nod before writing yes. All you get is a half sketch half doodle of a niffler, with a heart and it making what you assume is a thumbs up gesture.

You groan waking up after having spent most of the night trying to convince the Jarvey to leave the Knarls alone and find a better home. You’d been called a bitch and vermin about fifty times before you’d gone to speak to the Knarls; the Jarvey had been offended enough to counter offer your idea of leaving the Knarls home to find a new one for himself. That was after he’d angrily scraped at your arm; almost tearing through the doodled nifflers.

You managed to agree to rehome the Knarls away from the muggle area; and even offered the Jarvey some moles you’d managed to gather before you’d gone to meet them. You’d gotten as close to a thank you as possible from a Jarvey and he even offered to come with you to the ministry to explain what you’d agreed with. You’d assured him while you appreciated it; you didn’t like the idea of him being captured. He’d then drawn a crude sort of star on your palm with a black marker he’d found and you’d returned to the ministry with the Knarls in a cat carrier with blankets charmed to stay warm.

“Good morning Y/N.” Thesues grins and you nod yawning.

“Late night?”

“Yeah; but I got the knarls.”

“You got the knarls?” He looks down to the case and you grin.

“And the jarvey?”

“He’s enjoying his new home and the snack I brought him.”

“You fed the Jarvey? And talked to it?”

“I mean I don’t know how much of a conversation it was; I was explaining everything going on and he kept calling me a bitch.” You shrug setting the knarls; which continue to sleep under your desk as you start to work up the report.

Did it go okay? You grin at your soulmates question, drawing a crude doodle of the knarls in the carrier. We all survived. Minus my pride. You don’t look at the response for a while finishing up the report and waiting till lunch to find your supervisor to ask about relocating the knarls.

The jarvey decided to knock me down a peg. Beside the explanation you doodle the jarvey with an angry face and a little speech bubble with the words bitch and vermin in it. The only response is a frowning face.

Since you know so much about magical creatures; where's the safest place for me to bring the knarls? You chew your lip hoping that wherever he describes won’t be blanked out. Suitcase. Or a large field with plenty of hedgerows; anywhere a hedgehog would live. You nod drawing a circle and question marks around the word suitcase.

“Y/N where are you off to?” You hold up the case, the knarls chattering at you and you frown.

“I’m sorry guys; I just have to have a quick chat and we can get you a nice big field and some new worm hunting grounds.” They chitter again and you sigh.

“I’m heading to drop the knarls off to a much better home.”

“Your soulmate give you advice?” Theseus grins as he walks up spotting the carrier in your hands.

“Apparently I need a suitcase.” You laugh showing Thesues the writing on your arm. He nods glancing from the knarls to your arm and back to you. He doesn’t say anymore simply turning away back towards his department. You shrug and leave the ministry building to apparate to one of your favourite spots in the countryside. You glance to the abandoned cottage before nuding the door open and opening the carrier to let the knarls wander out.

“There we are. Is this an okay spot?” You hum as the knarls seem to vanish. You make a note to check back on them in the coming weeks. You know you still have time for lunch but you decide to return back to the ministry to avoid rushing and being able to have a cup of tea in peace. You’re sitting in the lobby people watching when you can see a figure stagger out from the floo network and almost tackle Theseus to the ground. You try not to laugh when Theseus grins hugging the figure as the figure seems to hang limply in his grip for a moment before his head swivels looking around.

“It’s lunch right now.” You can hear Thesues’ voice and you note how the man next to him wilts. You try your best not to laugh at them returning to your tea before you can feel eyes on you. You don’t say anything feeling the faint scratch of a pen on your arm. Turn around and wave. You roll your eyes turning and waving. The man next to Theseus stares at the ground while Thesues moves towards you.

“Y/N. How’s lunch going?”

“You lost your friend.”

“My brother actually, Newt; come over here and say hello to Y/N she works in the department for magical creatures.”

“Oh; hello.” He walks slowly over extending his hand and you catch a familiar black star shape on his palm.

“Your soulmate?” You question and he nods.

“No clue what they mean by the star; but it’s nice to finally talk to them.” He grins slightly and you laugh a little nodding.

“What about you?” Thesues comments and you look down to your palm at the star shape.

“The Jarvey I talked to earlier. He decided it was a parting gift.” Newt steps closer to examine it; his fingers brushing over your palm; barely touching it.

“Is this the same jarvey that called you a bitch and vermin? I might have to have a word with him.” He mumbles and you try your best not to give anything away with how Newt keeps side glancing to Theseus.

“I was wondering; since you’re the expert here; I dropped the knarls off to a new area; and I don’t know if it’s a proper place for them..” You trail off and can see Thesues roll his eyes.

“You two enjoy your talk about knarls; remember lunch is over in twenty minutes.” Thesues reminds you and you nod waiting as he leaves before you look up at Newt.

“Hey.” He grins watching as you press your palms together to match the stars up.

“Your drawings are much better than my doodles of a niffler.”

“I thought they were very true to reality.”

“Is this why you mentioned a suitcase.”

“Yes; did it help you catch on?” he tilts his head and you gasp. He grins as Pickett pokes his head out.

“Not now Pickett.” Your hand drifts upwards and Pickett’s hands reach towards you and climbs on your hand.

“Oh. Hello there sweetheart. Aren’t you just the most impressive bowtruckle I’ve ever seen.” Pickett taps his little hands on your figner nails and Newt sighs.

“His ego is big enough; please don’t lie to him.”

“It’s the truth. No harm in reminding him. He really is incredible though. His leaves are a beautiful green shade.” You grin and Pickett taps faster on your hand before scurrying towards your shoulder as Newt reaches for him.

“Pickett no!” he scolds trying to grasp at the bowtruckle as he hunkers down on your shoulder.

“Newt it’s alright; I can show you where the knarls are anyways.” He looks towards the clock and you catch your supervisor's attention.

“Yes Y/N.”

“I dropped the knarls off sir; is there anything else?”

“Oh good; we have two new cases one involving; what else were you going to ask.”

“Well sir; I’ve just found my soulmate and I was hoping-“

“Go home! Talk with each other. For Merlins sake Y/N; you have enough vacation days regardless of the soul week you get to spend off. Go on.” He nods and you grin.

“Thank you.” You grin and Newt waves to him, you laugh a little when he falters and glaces to both of you.

“Theseus is going to kill me.” He grins and you quirk an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yes; I was just talking about how I finally realized I do have a soulmate and he all but demanded to see what we’d written. He lost it when he saw the writing; I guess I know why. He recognised your handwriting.” You smile at him nodding to the Floo network.

“Here; hold my hand.” Your hand twines with his as you step into the floo-place and close your eyes speaking the area of the countryside.

“Here we are.” You grin and Newt looks around.

“This seems perfect for knarls.” You grin back at him.

“Now may I show you the first option?”

“The suitcase?” You look confused and he grins holding his hand out. You close your eyes; you’re not sure why but Newt grins.

“Okay open!” you spot his face; halfway obscured by a young Occamy curling around his neck.

Support My Writing?

#newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x y/n #fantastic beasts and where to find them imagine #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft reader insert #fbawtft imagine #fbawtft #eddie redmayne #eddie redmayne imagine #newt x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter reader insert #harry potter #soulmate au #stattic

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apompkwrites · 3 years

Text

reader impact || first meeting

series masterlist characters: xiao, albedo genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: have i read a few genshin impact x game character reader stories and impulsively decided to make one too? maybe. you can't prove anything. i don't know if this will be a series but we'll see :D

xiao's playthrough -

xiao, named as alatus on his streaming platform, has made himself known as a gaming streamer with an awkward personality and blunt words.

he's the type of streamer who wouldn't have a set type of game and would, instead, play whatever his viewers recommended.

valorant? sure, he'll try it out.

hitman? why not?

animal crossing? it's a complete 180 from the other games, but sure.

when one of his viewers recommended genshin impact, he was quick to say yes and search for the game.

once the game finishes downloading, he quickly begins the game.

once the opening cutscene passes, he compliments the overall aesthetic of the game, pointing out the smaller details such as the footprints made by his character and the sound their clothes make when they move.

as always, his expressions are quite monotone to a point where it seems nothing draws his attention towards the game.

one of his mods, however, knows xiao well enough to where he knows which character he would like.

they convince xiao that the game is worth sticking with towards the second half of chapter 1, act 1.

he doesn't understand but he trusts his mods so he promises to continue.

it takes a few hours, especially because of the grinding, but a few streams later he's finally made it.

after fighting a one-sided argument with cloud retainer, he immediately begins his trek to the wangshu inn. and yes, trek, he enjoys walking/gliding through the world of teyvat rather than fast traveling everywhere.

he walks up the stairs to the top floor of the inn, resting his hands in his lap as the cutscene begins.

"to the blind, everything may not be as it appears..."

xiao is normally stoic during games, even ones with scenes made to fluster the player and catch them off guard.

but not this time.

once xiao's character is faced with yours, he just stops. his chat is spamming messages, asking if he's okay and if he's actually emoting for once.

he just stares at your character for a good five minutes.

and trust me, at least half of his viewers clipped that.

"... who are they?"

that was his only question after those minutes of silence. never before had he been attached to a character within the first few minutes of meeting them. his mind is racing and all he can think about is how amazing your character design is and how nice your voice is and how cool your character is and--

oh right, he's streaming right now...

anyway, the more your conversation goes on, the more he loves your character.

you're just so sassy and snappy but he loves you either way.

once you turn away with your back towards the camera, he just stares.

he stares at the intricate tattoo on your exposed arm and the mask hanging off of your belt.

and then you're gone.

his face drops so quickly and his viewers are very quick to point it out. he grimaces once paimon starts talking and he's very tempted to just speed through her dialogue.

he just wants to see you again.

once he hears from verr goldet that you've never smiled (at least around her), he immediately turns to the camera and says, "we better make them smile in this game."

once he finds out about your favorite food, he's already asking his viewers if he's able to get the recipe for it.

the next time he gets to talk to you, his face just lights up once he sees your character standing on the balcony.

however, once his characters tell you about rex lapis's death, his heart sinks when he hears how sad your voice becomes, even if your tone is still as harsh as before.

he gets all sad again when the quest ends and he has to wait to unlock the next archon quest.

he ends the game there and decides to spend the last few minutes talking to his viewers.

"i'll stream genshin again soon."

his viewers all know it's only because he met you.

albedo's playthrough -

albedo often does art streams and the occasional science-y stream.

if he does games, he mainly uses them to admire the art/mechanics of the gameplay.

genshin impact was one of those games he decided to play on his own solely because of the beautiful scenary.

(and the opportunity to draw more characters).

he's definitely the player that cares about elemental reactions above all else. pretty much every character he uses is built for elemental damage instead of physical.

most of his genshin streams are him walking around teyvat and pointing out the scenary.

he was definitely excited for the dragonspine event because that meant a better view of teyvat!

what he wasn't prepared for, however, was the reveal of a new character: you.

he isn't too into looking at the updates for genshin on his own, so he didn't find out about who you were until his stream asked about it.

he decided to react to the newest updates live since his chat seemed excited to hear his input.

once he pulled up the latest update details, he spent a few minutes talking about the new subzero mechanic.

but once he scrolled down to the characters... OH BOY

he's able to keep his composure but he definitely spends longer talking about you.

he almost gasped when he saw you were the chief alchemist of mondstadt.

combine that with the fact that you rely on elemental damage instead of physical...

your honor, he's fallen hard.

he'll put a countdown on stream to when your character and event drops, even on his non-genshin streams.

speaking of those streams, on the week just before your event, his streams will all be based around you and the information he's seen on you.

his art streams will consist of you and how he thinks your attacks will work just based on the description (he purposely avoided all pictures of your attacks for this stream).

his science-y streams would probably be based on your element.

once your event drops, that's the only thing he'll stream until it's over.

your assistant used to be his favorite character to play as but they just never clicked. it's not like he hates your assistant, it's just he didn't immediately fall in love with them.

his party definitely has your assistant in it, though.

he would have normally taken his time to look around dragonspine and admire the new scenery, but he couldn't help but speed through it until he finally gets to see you onscreen.

once the cutscene officially introduces you in front of a canvas, he's internally panicking.

you like art too?! and science?! how perfect can you be?!?!?!

he will genuinely feel bad when he scares the hilichurls because he knows that that's what you were sketching.

"who are you? why did you alarm them?"

NOW HE FEELS EVEN WORSE

even when you tell him you've finished sketching, he wants to make it up to you :((

if he were able to, he would've lured more hilichurls to let you sketch more.

some people in his chat would probably spam him to skip your dialogue because it's so wordy, but that's the exact reason why he listens to it all.

he likes listening to your character ramble on, especially because you have a soothing voice.

anytime your character does their idle animation where you give life to something, he will always let it play. even if your dialogue is finished before the animation, he would not progress until it's completed.

once your character asks for help, he would immediately agree before you finished your sentence.

man just wants to spend more time with you.

he likes staring at the tattoo on your neck whenever the camera is close to you. he just thinks it's really pretty on you.

once your other nonplayable assistant begins talking, he'll skip through the dialogue. he doesn't care if it goes more in depth into this world's alchemy, he just wants to hear it from you.

"hmm, looks like the potion's ready. i'll try a little first."

"please don't..."

he doesn't want you to try it just in case it hurts you :(

anytime he is allowed to walk freely with you around, he'd definitely put his traveler character next to you for a few minutes and just let you two stare at each other.

someone asks him why he spends a few minutes doodling on his desk when you talk.

he shows them the notebook that he had been writing notes in. it's filled with little doodles of you and some more information you give on the world of alchemy.

for future streams the involve you, he'd set up another camera to show the notes and doodles he's making about you.

sometimes he'll spend a few minutes on a single section where the camera is focused on you just to recreate the picture in the notebook.

he absolutely loves whoever planned out the camera angles because of how cute you look in every one of them.

he definitely gets a bad vibe from rosaria when she hints at the fact that you may be using alchemy against him.

he will defend you and alchemy to his grave!

that one scene where you create a flower in front of you is one he will always treasure.

he makes sure someone clipped that moment just so he can draw that, make it a print, and put it on his wall.

since most of his viewers most likely consist of artists, he will encourage them to draw you and send him fanart. he will put them all on a wall and dedicate every picture that goes there to you.

"if i one day lose control... destroy mondstadt... as well as everything around it..."

"huh?"

"will you be there to stop me?"

"wait... no."

if people were only listening to that portion, they would still be able to hear the pout on his face.

he'll end the game there but change his stream into an impromptu art stream.

he will only be drawing you in nice situations to distract himself from the fact that there is something going on with you.

"hm? what do you mean something's wrong with (name)? i have no idea what you're talking about."

poor boy's in denial...

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #reader impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact xiao #genshin impact albedo #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #genshin xiao #genshin albedo #genshin impact xiao x reader #genshin impact albedo x reader #genshin xiao x reader #genshin albedo x reader

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

I Can’t Say Anything to Your Face

Summary: Lunchtime is Spencer Reid’s favorite time of day and not because of the crappy endless coffee, dry sandwiches, or the occasional chocolate donut. Spencer’s favorite time of day comes in the shape of a little post it notes and fits perfectly into his heart.

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader

Content: Fluff (1 use of a$$)

Author’s Note: The idea of for this came from @shemarmooresfedora for giving Spencer compliment cards

Word Count: 2.6 K

I Can't Say Anything To Your Face

When Spencer checks his watch for the twelfth time that day, he can practically feel Derek’s eyes roll. He tries to cover up his action by picking at his sleeve, but that just seems to draw attention to the situation. Derek raises his eyebrows at Spencer, as if to tell him, I saw that.

When it comes to teasing Spencer, Derek doesn’t miss a beat.

The team, minus Derek and Spencer, continue to work diligently. JJ walks back and forth from her office to Hotch’s, constantly shuffling through piles and piles of paperwork. Emily seems to keep herself busy with the 33 tabs that she has open on her screen. Y/N, who’s tongue slips out of her teeth in concentration, doesn’t look up from her mound of case files. Spencer likes studying how each of the members of his team works, but he particularly likes to watch Y/N. She always sticks her tongue out when she’s deep in thought. Sometimes she’ll close her eyes and rub the butt of her palm against them. Other times she’ll push her glasses up on top of her head and her hair frames her face perfectly. Spencer couldn’t care less what she looked like or how she wore her hair, but watching her was his favorite part of the day.

In a totally platonic, non-creepy way.

A beep distracts Spencer from being distracted by Y/N. It’s an IM from Derek, telling him something to the effect of asking Y/N out. Instead of responding, Spencer decides to send Derek a more direct message. He shuts off his computer, which isn’t really used, besides for Y/N to send Spencer requests for online scrabble.

Spencer, ignoring Derek’s gloating, walks from the bullpen into the team’s lunch room. It’s a small kitchenette with a couple tables, a very old coffee machine, and an even older refrigerator. Peeking into the refrigerator, Spencer takes out two lunch boxes. One is light green with patterned purple and orange dinosaurs all over and the other is a light blue with green plants. Like clockwork, Y/N rounds the corner with a smile plastered to her face.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Spencer asks, placing his lunch box down across from Y/N’s seat.

“It’s just my favorite time of day,” Y/N responds, unzipping her bag and taking out her banana, water bottle, granola, and turkey sandwich.

Spencer tries to hold back his smile at Y/N saying that lunch is her favorite time of day. He likes to believe that it’s because of him and not because of the top tier kitchen facility the government provides for them. But who’s he kidding, there’s no way that lunch is Y/N favorite part of the day because of Spencer when he’s up against a crappy coffee maker.

“Did you know that sandwiches were only called sandwiches because the Earl of Sandwich ate his meals with bread, meat and cheese like modern day sandwiches? However, there’s much debate if sandwiches existed prior to this. Researchers actually believe that sandwiches were simply referred to as bread and meat or bread cheese, depending on the ingredients. There’s hundreds of works of literature that help to determine this,” Spencer says, as he unwraps his leftovers from dinner the previous night.

Y/N, who takes a bite of her turkey sandwich, listens intently to Spencer’s oral history of sandwiches. She starts to respond to Spencer, but before she can even get the chance, Derek interjects into the conversation.

“Hold your horses, there Reid,” Derek says, his voice tainted with sarcasm and Spencer braces himself for a clipping comment, “you don’t want to scare away the newbie,”

Y/N, ever quick witted, rolls her eyes dramatically at Derek. She gets up and moves her seat closer to Spencer who’s heart rate, at the thought of her sitting even closer to him, speeds up. He knows that it's just an effort to tease Derek. That she'd rather suffer next to Spencer, than to have to entertain the idea of sitting next to Derek. But still, Spencer is a dreamer; he'd like to think she'd sit next to him even without the added bonus at avoiding Derek's playful teasing.

“Derek, leave Spencer alone, I happen to adore his facts. You know, I’ve seen I’ve been here I’ve been a Jeopardy beast. And when are you going to realize that I’m not a newbie, I’ve been here for what 2 years-”

“2 years, 4 months, and 4 days,” Spencer says, cursing himself silently for interrupting Y/N.

Derek grabs his lunch from the refrigerator, and sits down across from Spencer and Y/N.

“You remember the day I started?” Y/N asks, turning her attention from Derek to Spencer, whose face is twisted in what he can only assume is an extremely unattractive deer-in-head-lights look. He shrugs off Y/N’s comment, as if to say it’s just normal for him.

"Of course I do, I remember how long each of us has been here,"

"Oh, right. Eidetic Memory," Y/N mumbles, almost like she's slightly disappointed in something.

Suddenly Spencer’s mouth is quite dry; he reaches into his lunch bag to grab his water bottle, but his fingers brush across a small card taped to the outside. Forgetting that showing the card to Morgan would give him enough ammunition for the rest of day, Spencer quickly scans the card. It’s a small piece of paper, but it suddenly has become Spencer’s most treasured object. More than the set of Chaucer tales that his mother gave him, or Gideon’s watch, or his first microscope that his biology teacher in high school gave him at his graduation.

The one side of the card is decorated in small hearts and there’s a sketch of a dinosaur on the other side. In careful handwriting, the giver of the card wrote “Are you made of Nickel, Cerium, Arsenic, and Sulfur? Because you got a NiCe AsS!”

Spencer’s eyes grow a couple sizes once his brain registers the meaning of the card. Handling it less than gracefully, he chokes on his water, which catches Derek and Y/N’s attention.

“You okay there, Spence?’ Derek asks, questioning what sent Spencer coughing and choking on water like that.

Spencer, not wanting Y/N or Derek, especially Derek, to read the card, attempts to put it in the front pocket of his lunch box. Unfortunately, Derek catches sight of the card and snatches it out of Spencer’s hand.

“Derek!” Spencer whines.

He can feel his embarrassment deepen as Morgan’s smile grows. Spencer seriously thinks that this is how he’s going to die. His death, being in his line of work, is something that plagues his thoughts from time to time, but any gory hero’s death pales in comparison to Derek Morgan reading Spencer’s love notes about his ass.

“Nice ass? I’m not too sure about this, Reid, but looks like your secret lover likes your ass just as much as your brains,” Derek teases, handing back Spencer his card.

“Those are private,” Spencer says, grateful that Derek’s going to leave him alone, places the card back in it’s temporary resting spot near his driver’s license and photographs of him and Y/N at the arcade.

“Hey man, I was just going to put in that shoe box you have tucked under your desk, you must have hundreds of them by now,” Derek says, taking a bite of his ham and cheese wrap. His eyes dash between Spencer and Y/N, like the pair of them is the most entertaining reality show he could think of.

“I have 645, now,” Spencer says, unable to help himself much to Derek’s amusement. Spencer hears the chair next to him screech and Y/N rushes to pack up her half eaten lunch.

“I completely forgot, Anderson needs me to uh, help him with something,” Y/N says, stuffing her water bottle into her lunch box in a flustered state. Spencer watches as she rushes, her need to leave the kitchenette quite evident. Spencer is left wondering why she has to go see Anderson, of all people.

“Anderson? What does he want with you? I don’t remember Hotch saying anything about that,” Spencer says, his voice comes off a little more bitter than he indented.

“Maybe Anderson has some extracurriculars that he needs Y/N’s help with Spencer,” Derek says with a wink. Spencer’s brow tightens and his blush deepens as if he’s trying to decipher the way that Derek’s voice is laced with suggestion. The only logical conclusion is that Y/N is flustered because she’s sneaking off to see Anderson, because she likes him.

Y/N likes Anderson? Something about that doesn’t taste right in Spencer’s mouth.

Like the wind, Y/N is gone and all that remains is Derek’s sly chuckle.

“What!” Spencer says, much too loud for him to continue the coy and unassuming demeanor he usually produces when Y/N gets hit on at the bar or on case by local cops.

“Nothing, Reid. You're just clueless. Just think about how many of those little compliment cards you’ve gotten,” Derek says. He reaches into Spencer’s lunch box and takes his brownie. Usually, Spencer would have protested, but Derek’s words sent him into a confused spiral.

“645,” Spencer responds.

“Okay,” Derek continues, “645 days you’ve gotten those cute little cards in your lunch box or taped to your hotel room door on cases. Now, Reid think. How many years, months, and days, is 645 days”

“That’s 2 years, 4 months, and 3 days,” Spencer starts, “now given if it’s a Leap Year that could change it a little bit bit-”

“Think about it Reid,” Derek says, talking slowly to get the words sink in and hoping that he doesn’t have to spell it out for him.

“Y/N?” Spencer asks, kind of like he can’t believe it, but desperately wants to believe it at the same time.

“Y/N,” Derek repeats, “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long, Reid. She’s been making eyes at you the day she’s gotten here. It’s almost sickening to watch you to dance around each other,”

“Y/N,” Spencer says, it’s like he’s saying her name for the first time. It’s the most beautiful string of syllables to ever come from his lips.

Spencer pushes back the chair and swings the door open. As he walks to Y/N’s desk he gets distracted by the little brown shoe box that sticks out slightly from under his desk. He crouches down and picks it up, hoping that it can be helpful. He approaches Y/N’s desk, but JJ stops him before he can go closer.

“Stairwell,” Is all she says before she brushes past with an armful of case files. Spencer, heading JJ’s advice, practically runs to the stairwell. As he approaches he can hear quiet sobs, which he can only imagine are Y/N’s.

Spencer opens the door and Y/N, startled, stands up and tries to mop the tears away from her face.

“Spencer, oh god, I didn’t know you were here, I’m okay, it’s just me being a little silly,” she says, trying to laugh through what she can only assume is going to be rejection.

“I really hope you don’t think these are silly, well some are kind of silly, but others were very poetic,” Spencer says, taking a step forward and gesturing with the shoe box to make it obvious to Y/N that he’s talking about the compliment cards.

“What are you talking about, Spencer?” Y/N says, feigning ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You're much too smart to play dumb,” Spencer says, moving closer to Y/N so he can wipe her tear-stricken face with the sleeve of his soft cardigan. He tries not to focus on the way that Y/N seems to melt into his touch. He knows that if he can get another touch of that, he’ll never want to touch another person ever again.

“I’m not playing dumb, Spence. I just never planned for you to find out,” Y/N mumbles. Spencer’s face resembles a mix between shock and confusion.

“Why would you not tell me, I don’t think I made it anything but obvious that I’m crazy about you,” Spencer says, deeply wondering why Y/N would ever hide something like this from him.

“God Spencer, have you ever looked in a mirror?” Y/N asks him, sitting down on the third step, “you’re so gorgeous, Spencer, I can’t say anything to your face. So the next best thing was to write down everything that I wanted to say to you,” Y/N finishes, a little embarrassed. She tries to hide that embarrassment by not making eye contact with Spencer, who sits down next to her.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Spencer asks, not entirely sure that he heard her correctly.

Y/N peaks at him with teary eyes and a runny nose. Spencer thanks science and the universe for his Eidetic Memory. He knows that there won’t be a single day of his life that he won’t want to think back to this day and remember the way that Y/N looked when she first told him that she thinks he’s gorgeous.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person that I’ve ever seen,” Y/N says breathily, her voice laced with restraint. She’s terrified of rejection, terrified that Spencer will turn her down still.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that,” Spencer says, equally as quiet and equally as terrified. He notices that Y/N’s hand creeps closer to his. Spencer is itching to intertwine it to his and never let go.

“You deserve to hear it more often, hence the cards,” Y/N explains, moving her hand even more closer to Spencer’s. He has no choice but to wrap his much larger one in Y/N’s smaller one.

“You meant it, right?” Spencer asks, bravely putting her heart out there on the line, “because if you did Y/N, that I’d really like to kiss you right now. But if you didn’t then that’s-”

Spencer tries to finish the sentence, to give Y/N an out, but somehow she doesn’t take it. Somehow she decides to kiss him.

Spencer has kissed a total of three people in his entire life, but none of them ever mattered again the second he feels Y/N’s lips against his and her hands in his hair. Spencer doesn’t complain when Y/N starts to set the pace. Her lips roam across his face. They venture across his jaw, up closer to his nose and then back down to his lips. Spencer had no clue Y/N can kiss like this. It's a little passionate for a first kiss, but maybe it's just the pent up tension and frustration 2 years in the making finally being let out. He's dreamt of the way that Y/N's pillowy lips would feel when they were finally pressed up against his. Spencer, from the fibers that make him up to the hormones that surge throughout his body, tries to be brave. He places his hands so they rest on Y/N’s neck. He’s not passive, but he’s happy to sit back and let Y/N have her way as she continues her feverish assault on his lips.

Her ministrations are interrupted, however, when the box of cards falls from Spencer’s lap. It seems to remind both of them that they are in the stairwell of the FBI making out like over zealous teenagers for the first time. Y/N lets out a small giggle. Spencer wishes he can write down the feeling it gives him and tuck it away safely in a shoe box.

“I hope you know that those compliments aren’t platonic, Spencer. I really do think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Y/N says, her fingers gravitating to the brown curls behind Spencer’s ears. He has the softest, silkiest hair she’s ever felt.

“That’s a good thing, Y/N, because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,”

Standing up, Y/N winks and pecks Spencer on the cheek, “I hate to break it to you, darling, but I think I win when it comes compliments,”

--Thank you for reading--

Taglist (Comment & I'll Happily Add You)

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@measure-in-pain

@nomajdetective

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x reader one shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader happy ending #criminal minds fanfiction

780 notes · View notes

moxfirefly · 3 years

Note

Ssssooooo I'm gonna keep the "only one bed" trope train and ask for it with maybe Heisenberg? I know you're obsessed with him dont even deny it uwu

*vibrates excitedly* oh BOY!!!!! Thank you Dia, you always gimme the prompts my little heart wants. Shout out to @akumaalert I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to include Karl’s powers being on the fritz due to, sensations, and that wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for your brilliance!

I’m going off the friggin rails here so,

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

There was a voice in the back of your head that sounded too much like your mother.

It kept yelling at you that this was unsavory, that this wasn’t modest of you and your teachings. Who were you to lie with a man? A man you weren’t bound to, a Lord on top of it. All those sinful talks in the big black book circled your mind like vultures.

But he had offered, no?

It was pouring out after all, a big bad storm complete with thunder and gusts of wind that would’ve blown you away probably.

The nature of this friendship? Complicated, very very complicated. You had racked your brain over it as you had buttoned up one of his shirts and climbed into his bed just as another clap of thunder sounded. It made you scurry, somewhat not as elegantly as you may have liked but nevertheless it didn’t stop him from laughing at you.

For such a large factory it only housed one bedroom which just so happened to be his own. He had every intention of sleeping somewhere else, some way, but you had insisted that it wasn’t fair. The storm wasn’t his fault or your own, the living accommodations weren’t either.

So here you were.

In bed with Karl Heisenberg.

Falling a sleep had proven quite difficult, the insistent slide of pencil on paper, the storm and its monstrous sounds. There was a distant revving of something you couldn’t quite name.

You turned to face Heisenberg with every intention of passing the time.

Or at least to help yourself to ogling him.

Your mother voice rang again.

Unsavory, so unsavory.

But he was there, shirtless, sturdy, muscle in his arms and missing those damned shades for once. Whatever he was scribbling had his undivided attention, as you snuck a glance you saw drawings instead of words.

He could draw?

Rather good too.

“What is that?” You tried to lift your gaze but a large hand fell on the page to obscure your snooping. “Nothing, just ideas” He flipped the page, the white of it begging for ink.

“My apologies… I didn’t know you could draw though” He could still see curiosity adorned in your gaze, a noticeable silence falling as your stared up at him. You wanted something, that’s all he could tell.

“…What do you want me to draw?” He huffed out, even if you excitedly sat up in bed and rested against the headboard with a big smile. “Hmm, surprise me or maybe draw me?” You chuckled but went quiet when you watched him scoot down to the end of the bed onto his side. He flipped open the note book again and squinted at you.

“How opposed are you to taking your clothes off?” He smirked and in turn you rolled your eyes.

“Depends, let’s see how well you draw me first” You shot back with every intent of dishing out what he was. Heisenberg chuckled before picking up the pen to start on the newest blank page. “You better keep your mouth shut about this, don’t want villagers lining up to get my works of art” His movements seemed almost mechanical, eyes occasionally lifting to meet you as he did. “There’s enough pictures of your mother in everyone’s homes, hm?” You watched his eyes roll again but he remained silent, he stole another glance at you, eyes roaming your chest now.

Something about that made your skin warm, a nice blush found itself onto your cheeks.

“You draw everyone woman you get into bed?” You asked rather quietly, the small pin prick of jealousy manifesting in your fingertips.

“No, much to your surprise I don’t have all the women of this village in here for sleepovers” His gaze fell to your now exposed legs and the urge to cover them increased but he was quick to tap the end of his pen on your approaching hands. “Stop moving,” He returned to the notebook with a concentrated chew on the inside of his cheeks. The strands of silvery hair fell in front of his eyes and you wished that maybe you too possessed the ability to draw and capture him.

He was handsome.

Those pesky sinful thoughts found you again and with that came the urge to do something about it.

“You better fucking like it, this is reserved for projects after all” He let the pen rest on the bed and flipped the note book towards you.

Your eyes went wide.

It was a sketch, not polished but there in the scribbly lines of black was your face and your body. The messy details perfectly representing you. Your drawn eyes stood out to you, the slight fall of his shirt on your shoulder stood out to you, the way he took more time to detail your legs stood out to you.

“Is that stunned silence? It’s shit isn’t it?” He glared at the page, eyeing up all its faults but you were quick to move and shake your head. “It’s not shit! I’m just- Karl this is beautiful, you’re talented” You observed the image again, a small crinkle at the corners of your mouth.

“I’d ask to keep it but-“ He took the notebook back, not relenting even as you pouted. “Nope, I like this, all I usually have on here is ugly inventions” And corpses, he obviously left that out. He continued to admire the drawing before he grinned, letting hazel eyes fall on you from above the notebook. “Well?” He simply asked and you knew.

“Might come back here for the nude study if you’re going to make me look this nice” You shamelessly flirted back. Heisenberg laughed, a true sound with not ill intentions. “Well I’m sure arrangements can be made” He closed the note book but his eyes soon found your own, close enough that he could smell the oils that had touched your skin this evening. With a bite to your lower lip and a steadying beat of your heart you leaned in close to him. Heisenberg’s lips pursed momentarily, the anticipation of your lips coming down on his own making something electric pulse inside of him.

But you stopped, an inch away from his lips.

His brows furrowed at being denied and that fact that you found that so endearing made you muffle a laugh between your tight lip smile.

Of course, he had to make you shudder, rub his knuckles across your cheek and dig his fingers into he back of your head. “What, pup?” His voice was barely a whisper, the sounds vibrating against your bottom lip and chin. The gentle nudge to close the distance left you breathless.

His lips were surprisingly soft, the scar noticeable against your lips but the bumpy tissue only served to make you melt against him. It was short, several gentle touches that made you shiver as you felt his nails scratch into your scalp.

Pressing your forehead to his own you sighed, want was there and he could feel it, taste it against your lips, feel it in the shiver on your flesh. A small zap hit your skin and the small yelp that escaped you only served to make him chuckle. “Did you just- was that electricity?” Your skin felt prickly suddenly, he only grinned more like a mad dog. Heisenberg wrapped an arm around your waist and yanked you beneath him, the series of shrieks you let out only making him laugh more. “You can be such a beast” They way your hands landed on his bare chest to smack him was short lived.

Some retaliation was to be had. So you scratched your nails down his body before landing on his waist. The tremble of his arms as he held himself above you made you smile. With a gentle nudge of your knee you trapped him in between your legs, pulling him down onto you by his waist. He huffed, hair falling and obscuring his heated gaze. It was instinct, to wrap your arms around him and feel his so warm and soft and strong against you. The scratchiness of his beard was felt at your neck, along with that his teeth meeting warm skin.

He sucked a bruise onto your neck with a roll of his hips.

“Do you want me?” He grumbled against your pulse, tongue soothing the bruise.

You nodded, digging your nails into his waist before dragging them up his back.

“No, no, pup” He nosed your ear, teeth finding your lobe with a gentle tug. “I need to hear it, use your words” It was almost a purr, enough to goosebump your skin and lift your hips.

“Want you, want you so much, please…” You exposed your neck more for him, felt his lips find your throat. “Good pup” His hands found the neck of the shirt and with one fluid motion you heard and felt all the buttons pop off. He pulled it apart to reveal your chest, he hummed at the sight before him. “Now I should draw this some day” His grin made your cheeks flush again, even more so when he pressed his face against your chest, a rub of his cheek scratching your soft skin.

Lips pressed, tongue drawing patterns as you muffled a whine and grabbed his hair and gave it a gentle tug. “Ka-oh god!” A particular hard bite at your ribs made you grip silver locks with more intention. He groaned at the rough handling of his hair, the strain on his neck as you tugged hard enough that he could see your pupils blown wide for him.

When Heisenberg leaned back, allowed space between both your heated skins, you ached.

Visibly ached.

You followed those talented scarred hands to the front of his trousers, watched as he unbuttoned them slowly. But you couldn’t stay away too long, fingers itched to feel him, to touch every part of him and find out what made him tick. You unrolled what was left of your his shirt and tossed it somewhere off the bed. When he saw your hands go between your legs he palmed himself at the sight of it.

“You want your hand, mhm? Or would you much rather prefer my cock?” He emphasized with a tight squeeze of his hardened length and wordless you replied by removing your hand and reaching for him once more. Ever the asshole, he gripped your hand away and raised his brows, he wanted those verbal answers.

Bastard.

“Your cock, please” Intertwining your fingers with his own you gently brought him back down to you for a long and sensual kiss. Against those lips you whispered, “Inside, want you inside now” just as another clap of thunder hit.

There were more clothes gone, scattered across the room unwanted and unneeded. Heisenberg had every intention of feeling you come apart around him when he entered you slowly. Each hiccuped whine shooting your arms more tightly around him, pressing him down closer to you. The heat he was already exuding was making you break out in a sweat, you felt his hands slide beneath you with a groan the further his slid into you.

He was buried to the hilt, tight heat so perfect he growl against the bruised flesh of your neck. “Fucking good little pup, taking me so good” His filthy words fell against your ear, short but pronounced thrusts making you dig your nails onto his back. “Yesss, don’t be afraid, don’t break so easily baby” Heisenberg leaned his head as far as he could to catch your gaze in all its lust blown glory. He kissed you again, more ferocity, more purpose, all tongues and teeth and demanding bites. The heels of your feet rested at his back side encouraging him deep into you with every thrust he delivered.

Being at the end of the bed doing this felt weirdly interesting, each thrust he gave you made the bed creak, lean away from the wall just a bit, it’s increasing squeak joining the chorus of the storm.

When you dragged your nails down his back, right towards his rear and gripped and moaned loud enough to have him shake, you saw something lift from the corner of your eye. You eyes squinted at the spoon suddenly mid air, you weren’t unaware of his gifts but why was he-

You train of thought was lost to you when he angled his thrusts just the right way to hit your sweetest of spots, every possible question was being tried and language had fallen at the bottom of your list of abilities. You arched into him, neck on display for his teeth to once again find, that tight hold on his rear remained and he seemed to really enjoy it by the sounds and sensations of his heated grunts. “Puppyyy, such a good pup, could stay buried in this hole all week” Oh you would let him, you wanted him in fact, why go back to the village, you’d rather put your days on this bed.

No matter how many dangerous items kept floating about, no matter how his skin felt almost electric as he thrusted into you more feverishly, this is what you wanted.

You wanted him.

“Then do it, oh god just do it please!” He hooked his arms beneath your knees and locked you beneath him either every intention of making your moans louder than the rain. Heisenberg unceremoniously pounded you, every hit making your toes curl and your voice choke up. “Gonna fuck a mess into you, you want it? Mhm?” Dangerous dangerous dangerous!

But you did.

Whimpered a series of broken yes yes yes, at his ear. The bruising hold proved necessarily, you felt your legs shake and stiffen all at once, heard several things sort of just go pop! It dawned on you that it had been the lights but that couldn’t have been the storm-

Your orgasm snuck up on you, quite literally hit you smack in the gut with Heisenberg at his tail end as well, it must’ve been seconds apart from one another. He moaned right against your ear, hips drilling into you with every intention of making you lose your god damn mind. Several objects clattered around you, startling you and in the process making you hold onto him.

His amused chuckle came out in breathless pants, the now darkened room only having a lone candle as the source of light. He gave your hip a gentle tap, “It’s okay, just shit that happens” He sounded somewhat sheepish as you both still panted. You reached up and cupped his sweaty cheek, fingers mapping a crias crossed scar. Here in the dimly lit room he still managed to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You wanted him again.

Wanted all the madness that came with him.

You pulled him down again to show him just that as you kissed him.

#ask #dianounais #re8 village #re8 #resident evil 8 #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x reader #re8 heisenberg #re8 karl heisenberg #karl Heisenberg #Heisenberg #lord heisenberg x reader #lord heisenberg #fanfic tropes #ns*w

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bxtchforstyles · 3 years

Text

You Better

Harry Styles x CEO!Y/N

Harry's girlfriend is the CEO of Gucci, and it is no easy job, but getting to design her boyfriends suits makes it all worth it.

Warning: minor swearing

Word Count: ~1.5k

gif not mine

"Hi baby," Harry was quick to greet her at the door, planting a small kiss to her cheek. "How was work?"

"Long." Y/n sighed as she took her coat off, hanging it on the hook near the door. "Very, very long. never thought I could go to that many meeting in one day."

Harry loved when Y/N came home, and she loved coming home to him. He was an absolute angel to her, especially when she was stressed and annoyed. Always greeting her at the door with kisses, making her dinner, running her a bath. Harry was everything that Y/N dreamed of in a relationship.

"I have a question for you, love."

Y/N nodded as she followed him into the kitchen, seeing there was a large pot on the stove, most like some type of pasta that Harry loved making for her.

She sat down at the island of the kitchen as he went over to the stove to tend to the dinner, looking back at her occasionally. "Ya know how I have the tour for the second album coming up, right?"

She smiled, "Yes I am well aware that Love On Tour will be stealing my boyfriend."

"Well, that leads me to my first question." He takes a step towards the countertop she was sat at, looking across at her. "I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to go on tour with me, or at least the American leg of it.

Y/N smiled even brighter this time, "I would love to go with you! I'm sure I can work something out to where I can work virtually for a couple of months."

He was gleaming with excitement, never being able to experience tour with her the last time around because she didn't have much seniority at her job and didn't want to abuse her power of having a flexible schedule.

"Now, what was your other question?"

Y/N noticed how he almost immediately got nervous when she said that, making her stomach start to sink.

"I don't want you to see me asking you this as rude, or as if i'm using you, because that is definitely not the case whatsoever,"

"Babe, I know that you're not using me." She almost laughed, "what is it that you want to ask me?"

"The last tour, the suits I wore were a large part of my performance, since the fans loved them so much," He was completely rambling now, "and I loved them too, they were amazing. I just wanted to know there was any way-"

She cut him off, already know what he was going to ask. "You want me to design your suits for tour again."

He let out a sigh of relief before nodding.

"Of course I will bub!" She was now the excited one, "I've been waiting for you to ask me, I just didn't want to overstep if you already had picked out a designer."

"Oh thank god." He let out a sigh of relief.

"I've had so many designed that i've put aside for you. Home many shows are there going to be?"

Y/N was a very smart woman, and Harry knew that from the start.

When the two of them first met, it was when Harry had done the Gucci campaign in 2018. Y/N was just an employee at that time, working in the design as well as the management department.

She had been the one to style him for all of his photo shoots for that day, and at the end of, Harry knew he had to see her again.

That's when Gucci offered to design a suit for each one of his tour stops, which he was ecstatic about.

Y/N had been apart of the main design team working on all sixty of the suits, top to bottom. She had always secretly been a little star struck by Harry, always wanting to impress him.

Now though, four years later, they had been dating for almost three years and Y/N was now one of the CEO's at Gucci.

Her dream.

Some people thought that the only reason Harry got special promos, suits and other things of the sort was because his girlfriend had such an important role in the business. But what they didn't know, was that everyone in the entire Gucci enterprise work team loved Harry.

"Can i see some of them?" He asked, speaking of the designs she had mentioned.

She immediately got up out of her seat at the barstool she was sat in, trekking quickly towards the foyer to retrieve her work bag. She pulled out her design binder, where all of the pictures of the modeled suits were.

She set the large binder in front of him on the counter, "Now, I know that most of these drawers are on female models, but please, keep an open mine."

"When do I not?" He sent a smirk at her before opening the binder.

The couple spent the next couple of hours looking at all of the suits that Y/N had sketched, deciding what on the designs to keep, and what parts needed to be reconfigured.

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

"Baby, I love how you look in pearls. They make your eyes shine." She gleamed as she walked into Harry's fitting room in her designing room.

"I really like this, actually." He told her, before attempting to adjust the suit jacket.

She took over, "Here, let me." He fixed the Jacket and the collar before directing him back towards the large mirror.

"Perfect." She stated.

"I really love it."

Y/N was over the moon looking at her boyfriend, seeing the many visions she had of the suits she designed for him come to life. The black suit jacket was lined with pearls, along with some pretty gold buttons that laid against Harry's torso.

She was smiling from cheek to cheek. "I'm really glad, hopefully you like all the suits I've designed for you."

That's when Harry turned around to walk into her office, immediately stopping in his tracks as soon as he entered. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, wondering what he was looking at.

Until she herself walked in her office behind him, then she knew exactly what he was looking at.

"Please tell me that one is for me." His pleasing eyes were already begging her.

In the center of her room, was a standing mannequin, covered in a dark purple suit, covered in pink and silver rhinestones.

"Um-"

He widened his eyes, grabbing his girlfriend by the shoulders dramatically. "Y/N, angel, I will literally pay you however much you want if i can have this suit."

It was in fact not meant to be for Harry, but looking at his face, Y/N didn't think she could ever say no to him.

"You don't have to fucking pay me for it, Harry." She laughed at her boyfriend's offer, but he only narrowed his eyes at her playfully.

"But I will."

"I don't want you to." She protests back before beginning to take the suit jacket off of the standing mannequin. "Let's see if this even fits."

As soon as she put the jacket on him, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Fits like a glove." Y/N smiled, adjusting the buttons on the suit.

"Okay, you have to give this to me now." Harry looked at himself in the mirror hung on the wall of her office.

"I'll see what I can do."

He sat down on the couch that was sat against the wall, opposite of Y/N's office. "Who was it originally for anyway?"

She sat on her desk, facing her boyfriend. "Well, it was supposed to be for Justin Bieber, he wanted a suit for the Met Gala that matched Hailey's, but i'll figure something out."

"Oh my-" He gasped in shock at the fact he was wearing a suit that was intended to be warm by Justin Bieber. "Wait," He then started.

"What now, Harry?" Y/N rolled her eyes playfully.

"You're telling me my girlfriend is the CEO of Gucci, and i've never got to wear a cool matching suit with her? What the fuck is that about?"

"Ya know, I usually don't have the time to make myself a fancy dress to match Mr. I want a bright red suit that is entirely covered in hand sewn crystals."

"Oi! You have to admit that suit was one of the best I've ever worn!" Her boyfriend protests.

"One of them? It was the best!" She shoots back with a hint of shock in her tone. "Anyways, maybe I'll design us some fancy matching suits for when my insanely talented boyfriend sweeps the Grammys."

"Holy shit, I love you." He gasps as he plants his lips against here.

Y/N smiles into the kiss, "You better."

AUTHORS NOTE:

i hope you enjoyed, please send any requests that you have and I will try to respond to them asap!! thank you for reading! TPWK<3 xoxo- hails

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x ofc #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles blog #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #harry styles #ceo! y/n

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sergeantsporks · 3 years

Text

Another Shot at Life

Rating: General Audiences, Gen

TW: Child abuse, emotional manipulation

Ao3

Hunter accidentally makes his way into the human realm and can't get back home. But he's discovering that might not be such a bad thing.

Ch 7/7: Home

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6

Vee trudged up towards the old abandoned house. She’d started checking it every single day since Hunter had been taken, hoping he’d be there.

He never was.

She pushed open the door, and stopped, dead in her tracks. “L-Luz? Red?!”

Red was shrieking like its little heart was being torn in two, fluttering around where the portal had always appeared.

Vee rushed forward, panic building in her chest. “Hey—are you okay?!”

Luz was turning a key over and over in her hands, poking at it. “I need to go back,” she said dazedly, “I need to rescue him.”

“How long have you been here?!”

“I—I don’t know. A couple of hours? I can’t… get the key to work. But I have to go back, I left Hunter behind, and Belos has him, and—” She struggled to her feet, then immediately fell.

Vee caught her, slinging one of her arms over her shoulder. “You need to go back home. You look awful.”

“But Hunter—”

Vee took the key from her. “I’ll go back for him,” she promised, and a sort of steely calm settled over her. Yes. She would figure this out, she would rescue Hunter.

“Mom will never let you—”

Vee bit her lip. Of all the things to take a leaf out of Hunter’s book for. “We won’t tell her.” She tucked the key into her hoodie pocket, half-carrying, half-dragging Luz back home. “Camila!” she called, “Come quick!”

Camila poked her head out of the kitchen, then shrieked, rushing forward and taking Luz from Vee. “Mi carina! Luz, baby, what happened?!”

“Mama,” Luz half-sobbed, “Mama, I left Hunter—he helped me get away from Belos, he—”

Vee slipped out, wandering back to the old house. Red was sitting on the floor, staring at the spot where the portal had been. Vee gently scooped up the bird. “We’ll get him back. I promise.”

Red chirped sadly, hopping back down out of her hands to sit on the ground again.

Vee tugged the training wand Hunter had given her out of her pocket. It glowed blue, and she sucked the magic out of it. She hadn’t needed it to hide from Belos. But she could use it to save Hunter.

Now there was just one more person she needed.

Xxx

Vee strode into the museum. “Hey!”

Jacob jumped. “What are you doing here?” He glanced behind her. “Your—your friend isn’t here, is he?”

Vee felt tears prick at her eyes, but she blinked them back. “He’s… not here right now. I need your help.”

“My help? Why would you need my help?”

Because you’re stupid, and loud, and prideful and the perfect distraction.

“Because you’re right. Because witches are planning an invasion of your world, and I’m a rebel against them, but I need someone to help me take down their leader, and you’re perfect.”

Jacob stared at her, his mouth hanging slightly open. “You’re… you’re a rebel?”

“Yes. Against the beings that want to conquer your planet.” Vee swung the key back and forth on its string. “I can get you inside the witch emperor’s castle. All you have to do is kill him. Protect your planet.”

Jacob made a grab for the key, and she swung it up, catching it and holding it tightly. “Uh-uh. I control the portal.”

“Why?”

“Because you need someone on this side to keep it open,” Vee lied, “Now, are you going to be a hero and defend your home, or do I have to find someone else?”

Jacob shook his head. “I’m coming! I’m coming.”

“Good. Meet me at the abandoned house you were watching, and I’ll open the portal. The fate of your world rests on your shoulders, Jacob.”

Vee strode purposefully out of the museum, making sure she was out of Jacob’s range of hearing before sighing. “Now I just have to figure out how to open the portal.”

She jogged back to the old house, where Red was still waiting, and held up the key. “Hey. Any chance you know how to use this?”

Red fluttered up and pecked at the eye.

“Hey! Don’t break it!” Vee examined the key. “Now how do I…” she pressed gently on the eye of the key, but nothing happened.

Vee stepped to the place where the door had been.

And was met with resistance.

“Huh?”

Vee clicked the key, and the resistance disappeared. She clicked it again. There was that strange wall again.

Or maybe not a wall. Maybe a door.

Vee put her hands on the solid area, feeling for a knob. “Come on,” she muttered, “You have to be around here somewhere!”

Red fluttered up onto her shoulder, chirping. Its eyes glowed, and suddenly, there it was.

The door.

It looked like the sketches Hunter had left behind, but instead of huge eye on the top, there was a keyhole.

Vee gasped. “Oh! You need a palisman to get in! So no one but a witch could get in from this side! That’s clever!”

She heard clanking, and turned around to see Jacob, in all of his armor. Wow, he really looked ridiculous.

“Where’s the portal?” he demanded.

Vee reached up and inserted the key into the lock, twisting it with a quiet click. A doorframe filled with a golden curtain of light appeared, the key at the top of the doorframe. She gestured to it. “The emperor wears a golden mask with deer horns. You’ll know him when you see him.”

Jacob gulped, then plunged through. Vee briefly considered that she should feel guilty about sending him in to face Belos with absolutely no idea what he was up against.

Eh.

Red tried to dive into the portal after Jacob, but Vee held a hand up, blocking the bird. “I know you want to see Hunter, but I need you to stay here and watch the portal, okay? Make sure no one comes for the key. I’ll bring him back. I promise.”

Red ruffled its feathers unhappily, but perched atop the doorframe.

Vee pulled on the magic she’d absorbed from the wand, shifting to match the look of a coven guard. Then she crept through. She could hear Jacob yelling and clanging his way down the hallway, and the sounds of other coven guards chasing after. Perfect.

Vee slipped unnoticed through the hallways, her nerves spiking. Everything about this place was just one bad memory after another. She spotted a singular guard outside of a door, and sidled up to him.

“Um—” she squeaked, “hello? I, uh. I’m a bit lost, I just transferred here. I’m… I’m supposed to go on guard duty for… the golden guard?”

The guard heaved a sigh. “Finally. I thought I would never go off-duty. It’s just so boring, you know? It’s not like he can escape.”

“Oh. Yes. T-totally.”

“Right. See ya, new guy!”

The guard waved and strode off. Vee shuddered. He seemed so… normal. Like his job wasn’t locking up and hurting innocent teens.

She waited for him to disappear down the hallway, then turned the knob of the door, pushing it open. The room was well lit, surprisingly.

Vee almost wished it weren’t.

Hunter was buried all the way up to the nose in a mountain of some kind of… slime that shifted and moved. His eyes were blank—no pupils, no irises, just eerily glowing white.

“Hunter?” she whispered.

He didn’t respond.

Vee crept forward, poking the slime with one finger.

It glowed blue, and Vee gasped. The whole thing was magic. “Hang on, Hunter, I’ll get you out of here.”

Vee wrinkled her nose and put her hands on the slime. It glowed, and she inhaled, sucking up the magic. She almost immediately gagged. There was something wrong with this magic. It tasted rotten.

But the mountain had gotten just a little bit smaller, so she braced herself, and started eating the magic again, suppressing her gag reflex.

The mountain shrank smaller and smaller, and the slime receded from Hunter’s face. He fell forward, and Vee lunged to catch him, her stomach writhing like she’d just eaten live snakes. “Hunter?”

The eerie glow faded from his eyes, replaced with his usual magenta eyes.

“Hunter!”

He just stared blankly up at her, shivering violently. Vee hefted him in her arms, glancing both ways out into the hallway before starting down the hallway. Maybe it was the huge size of the coven guard she’d shifted into, but he seemed smaller than he ever had back home.

And then there were his eyes. They were so… bleak. Hopeless. It was like he couldn’t even see her.

Vee made her way back to the room with the door, occasionally ducking into other rooms or behind statues to hide Hunter.

She heard a clank, clank, clank behind her, and Jacob came tearing back, screaming. Wow, he could run fast, even in all of that armor.

The meaning of why he would be running like that hit her, and she sprinted after him, bolting through the doors to the room.

Only for several guards to be standing in front of her way out. Jacob was nowhere in sight—they must have let him through the portal. Vee skidded to a stop. “Oh. Hey. Uhhhhhhhh…”

“We have a traitor!”

“That’s no traitor,” Belos’ voice hissed behind her, “That’s a dangerous creature, masquerading as one of our own.”

Vee’s veins turned to ice, and every bad memory from her time locked in the dungeon flashed through her mind at lightning speed.

She didn’t see him move, but suddenly Belos was right in her face. “I’ll be taking Hunter back, now. You don’t know what he needs.”

Xxx

“Mom—I’m okay. Really. It was just a fall off of a wall, and a little bit of light torture, and a blow to the head, and a fall from the sky—I’m fine, really.”

Camila finished applying band-aids to all of Luz’s scratches, her chest tight. “A blow to the head? I’m going to call a doctor.”

“I’m okay, Mom! Really! Hunter gave me these painkiller things, and they really worked, but I think they’ve worn off now, and I know I promised I’d stay here, I know, but we have to go back for him!”

Camila sat down next to her daughter. “Okay.”

Luz stopped, mid-rant. “Wh-what?”

“Okay. I’m going to get Hunter. You stay here and rest. How do I get there?”

“I…” Luz’s eyes teared up. “I don’t know! I couldn’t get the portal open from this side, and Mom, it would be too dangerous for you to go!”

“If it’s too dangerous for me, do you think I’d send my little girl in? I failed Hunter—I let Belos take him. So I’m going to get him back.” If we can get the portal working, if he’s even still alive. Camila shook her head, trying to chase away the niggling doubts in her head. No. She was going to rescue Hunter. No matter how far she had to go.

“He was so miserable, Mom,” Luz whispered, “But he’d just… given up.”

Camila’s heart seemed to tear itself in two. He’d gone back to protect them—and had given up on seeing them again. Camila glanced around the room. “Where’d Vee go?”

Luz clammed up.

“Luz? Do you know where she went?”

“I’m… not supposed to tell you?”

A bolt of panic shot through Camila, and she jumped to her feet. “She opened the portal, didn’t she?!”

“I don’t know—I know she was going to try.”

Camila raced for her purse, throwing a few things in. “I’m going to find her, and maybe Hunter if she’s managed to open the portal. Luz, you stay here. You’re not in any state for a rescue mission, kay? Just trust me to bring him back.”

Luz nodded. “I trust you.”

Camila ran out the door, racing up the path towards the old house.

Please be okay.

Xxx

Vee clutched Hunter tightly, his body quivering so hard she thought she might drop him. A surge of anger rushed through her. “What he needs?! He doesn’t need this!”

Belos shrugged. “He got to be too much of a hassle to keep awake. It was simpler for everyone if he just went to sleep until I needed him. Less painful for him as well—but apparently, you just want him to suffer needlessly. Now, little basilisk, give him to me and I might consider letting you go.”

Vee backed up. “No!”

“HEY!”

Vee jumped as she heard Camila’s voice. She whirled around to see her adoptive mother standing over two unconscious coven guards, holding Luz’s baseball bat. “Camila!”

Camila glared at Belos. “Get. Away. From my. Kids.”

Belos disappeared, reappearing next to Camila and plucking the baseball bat out of her hands. “Oh? How interesting. Are you going to make good on that threat to end me, little human?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.” Camila whipped out a can of hairspray and a lighter. “Adios, Belos.” She held the lighter up to the hairspray, and clicked them at the same time. A jet of flame shot out, lighting Belos’ robes on fire. The emperor stumbled back with a shriek, and Camila pushed past him, grabbing Vee’s arm. “Let’s go!”

Vee shot through the portal, Camila not far behind. Vee reached up and twisted the key back out of the portal. The curtain of light closed on Belos’ howl of rage.

Camila whistled. “I cannot believe I just did that!”

“That was—it was scary, but it was amazing, and…” Vee glanced down at Hunter, and the euphoria died away. He was still shaking, still blank-eyed. Red fluttered down to his shoulder, nudging his face and warbling softly. Hunter didn’t respond.

Camila put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get him home,” she said softly.

Vee trudged back up the path to her own home, struggling to squeeze through the door. She gently sat Hunter on the couch, shifting back to her usual form. Eating that cursed prison might have been disgusting, but it had given her a huge backup magic reserve—she’d be good on magic for a while yet.

“You’re back!” Luz limped down the stairs, freezing when she saw Hunter. “Oh—oh, no. Hunter?”

He didn’t respond, just kept staring ahead with those dull eyes. Camila wrapped a blanket around his shivering shoulders, taking his hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. “Oh, Hunter. What happened to you?”

“He—he looks kind of like Matholomew did when he got out of detention,” Luz said softly, “Vee, what—”

Vee twisted her hands. “I—there was this cursed mud, and it made his eyes go all creepy—maybe I shouldn’t have taken him out? Maybe it was supposed to run its course and I made it worse by taking him out early?”

Camila squeezed her shoulder. “You did what you thought was best,” she said softly, “We have him back, and that’s—that’s what matters. We can fix this. He’ll wake up.”

Vee blinked back tears. “But—what if he doesn’t?”

What if I was too late?

Xxx

“H-hey, I’m gonna… gonna put on some Stephen Universe? Hunter? Remember, you liked that?” Vee rubbed her arms. Rain had been gently pattering on the windowpane, but it was starting to pick up. “You did. We watched it together, and I liked Amethyst, and you couldn’t pick your favorite character, remember?”

Hunter still just stared forward, wrapped up in his blanket like a burrito, and Vee sat next to him with a sigh. Red hadn’t moved from his shoulder since they’d gotten him back two days ago—and Hunter himself hadn’t budged, either—he didn’t eat anything, he didn’t sleep, as far as Vee could tell, he just sat there, staring into space. Red chirped softly, nuzzling Hunter’s face, and then hopped over to Vee, giving her big, worried eyes.

Vee cupped the palisman in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, “I don’t know how to get him back. I don’t know if he’s just in shock, or if this is something that the curse does, or…”

The rain was picking up, wind howling against the window. Vee slid off the couch, setting Red on the floor and digging out birdseed for the palisman. She sat back down on the floor next to the cardinal. “You’ve got to eat something, right?”

Red warbled sadly, and fluttered back up to Hunter.

“I know. I miss him, too.”

Lightning flashed, followed by a crack of thunder, and Vee yelped, putting her hands over her ears.

She heard a rustle and a little whump, and then something warm settled over her. Hunter’s chin rested on her head, his arms flopped over her shoulders so that they were sharing the blanket. Red chirped happily, and Vee froze, her heart thumping hopefully in her chest.

“Hunter? Camila! Camila, Luz, I think he’s waking up!”

Another peal of thunder crashed, and Hunter hugged her just a little tighter. Camila came thumping down, Luz not far behind. Vee didn’t move, holding her breath, worried that if she moved and disturbed him, he’d go back to the way he’d been, barely daring to hope...

xxx

Camila rushed into the living room, where Hunter was flopped over Vee, wrapping her in his blanket. He was still blank-eyed, but his brow was furrowed, like he was trying to remember something. Camila gently cupped his face in her hands.

“Hunter?” She asked softly, “Mijo?”

He blinked, hard, like he’d just woken up. “C-Camila?” His eyes filled with tears, and he fell back, letting go of Vee. The basilisk tackled him in a hug.

“Hunter!”

Camila wrapped her arms around both of them, squeezing them both tight. “Oh!”

His shoulders started to shake. “It was s-so dark,” he whispered.

Camila squeezed just a little harder. “I’ve got you,” she promised. She let the two of them go, and Vee wriggled under the blanket, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him as the thunder cracked. Luz sat down next to Camila.

“Hey,” she said softly to Hunter, “Thanks.”

He sat bolt upright, making Vee yelp. “The key! Belos!”

Vee held up the portal key. “Oh, you mean this? Don’t worry, Belos can’t get to us.”

“Vee managed to open the portal,” Luz supplied, “She went in after you!”

“And then Camila came for both of us,” Vee finished, “She lit Belos on fire, it was awesome!”

Hunter looked up at Camila, his lip quivering. “You… you fought for me?”

“Of course I did. I said I would, didn’t I?”

Tears rolled down his face, and Camila wrapped him up in a hug. “Hey. Heeey. You’re okay now.”

“I kept—I kept making him mad—and it—and I—”

Camila rocked him back and forth. “Okay. Ooookay. I’ve got you.”

“I couldn’t get out—it was all dark, and blank, and I just kept sinking, and I couldn’t do anything, and I was drowning, and—” Hunter buried his face in her shoulder.

Camila cradled his head in her hand. She could feel a lump on the back of his head, like he’d hit it, and she hadn’t failed to notice the bruises that hadn’t been there when he’d left. A tide of anger swept over her, and she started regretting leaving the Boiling Isles quite so soon. “You’re safe now, Hunter. I promise. Belos can’t hurt you anymore. And if he even thinks about it… well, I have no qualms lighting him on fire again.”

Hunter slumped against her, and she scooped him up, Red fluttering around the two of them. “Okay. You need some sleep.”

“He can take my bed,” Vee offered, “I’m too wired to go to sleep, anyway.”

Camila gave her a grateful nod and carried Hunter up the stairs. He was already asleep by the time they got to Luz’s room, his breath coming in soft little puffs. She nestled him in the bed, pulling the covers over him.

“Good night, Hunter.”

Xxx

Hunter was woken up by the sun.

The sun.

How had he slept this long?!

He bolted upright, nearly scraping his head on the ceiling. Wait. What?

Everything that had happened, came back to him in a rush, and he flopped backwards, running his hands through his hair. “Oh.”

Lying here, in the Noceda house, he could almost imagine that going back to Belos had been nothing but a bad dream.

But it hadn’t been. He had some very real bruises to prove it.

He shuddered, remembering the cold, acidic feel of Belos’ curse.

But then Red soared right into him, singing brightly, and he could almost forget it had ever happened.

Almost.

Hunter’s hand closed around the pin on his cloak. He ripped it off, tossing the cape to the floor, followed by his armor. He didn’t have to wear it anymore. Ever. Belos had no way to get back to him.

Belos had no way to get back to him.

The enormity of the statement caught up to him, and he ran his hand through his hair again. “He can’t come back for me,” he whispered, “I—I don’t ever have to see him again!”

Red chirped in agreement, and a bewildered laugh escaped Hunter’s mouth.

No more running errands for Belos.

No more worrying about what would happen to Red.

No more fear that an attack would hit, and he’d get hurt.

Just Camila and Vee and Luz.

Hunter shuffled down the stairs into the kitchen. “Good morning!”

“You’re cheerful.” Vee grinned. “Afternoon, actually.”

“Really?”

Luz nodded. “Mom said we should let you sleep. Speaking of my mom, she said something about how she shouldn’t have forced me to promise not to go back to the Isles—she doesn’t want me to keep trying to use that key, because it’s too dangerous to get into the keep, but she hasn’t outright said I can’t go back if I can find another way.” Luz glanced around. “I miiiiight ask to borrow Red at some point. If that’s okay with the two of you. I need to let Eda know I’m okay.”

“Luz, are you plotting something behind my back?” Camila came bumping down the stairs, holding a brightly wrapped parcel. “Oh, hey! You’re up!” She thrust the parcel at him. “That’s for you! I actually got it before… but that doesn’t matter, you’re here, I have it, everything’s great.”

Hunter gingerly took the package. “What… is it?”

“It’s a present,” Vee explained wisely, “It’s a surprise. You open it up.”

“Did it… come like this?”

“Nope, Camila wrapped it.”

Hunter squinted at the package. “But… now I’m just supposed to open it?”

Vee nodded. “Yep.”

“Then what was the point of wrapping it up?”

Luz nudged his shoulder. “It’s fun!” Her face dropped. “Oh my gosh, you’ve never gotten a present before, this is so sad. Okay. Just trust us, it’s fun.”

Hunter stuck his tongue out at her, and pulled gently at the paper, trying to unstick the tape.

“Rip it!” Luz demanded, “Tear it open!”

Hunter glanced back at Camila. “But you worked so hard to—”

She laughed. “You’re supposed to rip it, mijo. Go ahead.”

Hunter tore at the paper. It was… oddly exciting.

The wrapping had contained a set of clothing, jeans that actually looked his size, a t-shirt, and a hoodie that looked just a little too big—therefore, exactly the right size.

Hunter turned the fabric over in his hands, tears bubbling to his eyes. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Vee pushed him towards the stairs. “Go see if it fits!”

Hunter scooted up the stairs, closing the door behind him and switching clothes. The rest of his uniform joined the armor and cloak in a pile, and he tugged the hood of his new sweater up, retracting his hands into the sleeves. It was soft, and comfy, and he felt like he could just melt into a puddle right here.

He shuffled back downstairs, and Camila clapped her hands. “Ooo, good, it fits! Look at you!” She grabbed her keys. “Okay, Hunter, Luz, in the car, both of you are coming with me to the doctor’s office, I want both of you checked out for concussions.”

“Mooooooom,” Luz groaned, “I’m fiiiiiiine!”

Hunter let Camila shoo him into the car, stepping out into the bright sunlight (hadn’t it been raining last night?). Warmth spread all through him, banishing the last of the lingering coldness Belos had left behind.

Camila looked back at him as she turned the car on. “Everything good?”

Hunter took in a deep breath, burying his face in his new hoodie. He was back home—this time to stay. “Everything is perfect.”

#whoof almost didn't update today #anyway one happy ending as promised #now back to our previously scheduled angst #toh #the owl house #toh fanfiction #toh hunter #camila noceda #vee noceda #luz noceda #my writing

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mochis-interlude · 3 years

Note

Can i have a Tsugikuni sandwich? I just love the twins and I want to cuddle them (maybe a little nsfw...?👀)

lmao this is subway and i’m more than happy to serve a tsugikuni sandwich ( ´ ω ` ) let’s start the new year with a bang and pretend that they get along

↠ pairing. yoriichi x fem! reader x michikatsu

↠ genre. fluff, slight nsfw

↠ warnings. groping, implied threesome, explicit content, implied dom/sub dynamics, fingering

↠ words. 1.2k

When you decided to close the book, push your notes to the side and blow out the candle on your desk,one glance out of the window told you that you had been working until late at night, once again.

Rubbing your dry eyes, you sighed. Ever since you had faced your first demon, you were way too scared to jump into battle again and dropped the blade. Yet you felt like you should still help Yoriichi and Michikatsu in any way you could. Hence, you found yourself holed up in a single room filled with several books, sketches and notes to find something, anything that demons reacted allergic to.

Stretching your shoulders and rolling your wrists, several pops bounced from your joints and made you hiss. Perhaps, you should call it a day..or night.

Barefooted, you made your way to the bedroom and spotted Yoriichi and Michikatsu peacefully sleeping on their tatami mats. The one in the middle was completely unoccupied, yearning for you to snuggle underneath the covers and steal some cuddles from the twins.

Careful as to not wake any of the men up, you had drowsily slid underneath the covers and you swore you barely made a sound. However, as soon as you laid down, Yoriichi's strong arm wrapped itself around your waist and pulled your back flush to his chest.

The swordsman buried his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your scent deeply, his grasp on your waist tightened. "You shouldn't spend so much time away from us." Yoriichi's tired voice breathed against your neck and sent shivers down your spine.

You felt Yoriichi's warm seep into your chilly bones and reached a hand back to cup his cheek and caress the tender skin. He was always so gentle, emotionally and physically. "Forgive me. I just..really want to be of use to you and Michikatsu." You clutched your pillow and gazed at Michikatsu's sleeping face.

His warm hand affectionately stroked the area from your lower tummy up to right underneath your breasts. "Of..use?" Yoriichi breathed into the pitch black room and tasted the words on his tongue.

They were bitter.

The Slayer knew how you refused to take on the typical role of a housewife who cooked, tended to the garden and educated herself occasionally. He knew how badly you wanted to help since you couldn't bring your body fight. "It doesn't matter if what you do are small or big things, [Name]. The fact that you're trying is quite.." Yoriichi paused, letting his thumb draw circles on your hip one through the soft fabric of your yukata. "..admirable."

Gently, you brought Yoriichi's hand up to your lips and planted a kiss on each of his roughened knuckles. "Thank you, Yoriichi," you whispered against the back of his hand and smiled.

In front of you, Michikatsu's eyes slowly fluttered open and immediately brightened up as he saw your smiling face in front of him. He had been waiting to hold you, kiss you and simply see you, since you were always in that damn room.

"Ah, did we wake you? My apologies, Michiㅡ"

"I missed you, [Name]." Michikatsu cut you off swiftly, placed his hand on the back of your head and gently pushed your face into his broad chest. Blushing, your hands placed themselves on his shoulders and rubbed them. "I missed you, too, Michikatsu."

You felt a kiss being placed on the top of your head, nimble fingers pushing loose strands of hair out of your face and Michikatsu's palm cupping your face. You eagerly leaned into his touch.

A pleasant sigh slipped your lips when Yoriichi ghosted his lips along the length of your neck and placed butterfly kisses on the skin. His hands slowly traveled from your hips to your thighs and then up your sides. "You shouldn't hole yourself up like that, [Name]." You vaguely heard him say with a rasp in his voice.

Before you could mumble another apology, Michikatsu sealed your lips with his own. The kiss was a slow and saccharine one, sugaring your veins and leaving you wanting more. You squirmed underneath Yoriichi's touch and shivered in front of Michikatsu when he trailed his lips down your throat, attached his lips to your pulse and sucked.

Color was quick to paint your skin, an aching blush on your cheeks.

"Yoriichi..M-Michikatsu.." It was getting too much with their mouths slowly pulling you into a haze and their hands warming up your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Behind you, Yoriichi sat up and placed you on his lap. He freed your hair from the hairpins keeping your bun together and let your locks fall loose. Assuringly, he let his palms travel from your shoulders to your hands and squeezed them in a trusting manner.

"We got you, [Name]." Yoriichi's lips brushed the shell of your ear and you were vaguely aware of something rubbing against your dampening core. Unhurriedly, Yoriichi pushed the yukata off your shoulders and let the material pool at your waist, leaving your bare torso to be scorched by his brother's burning gaze.

Michikatsu's rough palms slid from your knees up your thighs and your let your legs fall open without any more prompting. Nestling himself between your legs, Michikatsu cupped the side of your neck. "Just for now, realx."

Once more, Michikatsu locked your lips with his, but with more urgency this time. He easily dominated the kiss and let your lips melt into his, drawing the sweetest moan from you. Your fingers found their way into Michikatsu's black hair and tugged on the thick locks when his tongue was hot on yours.

Unconsciously, you bucked your hips upward and let your core brush over Michikatsu's boner while your ass landed back on Yoriichi's own erection.

"Shh, patience," Yoriichi whispered in your ear and let his large palms fondle your breasts. He felt his pulse quicken when you mewled into his brother's mouth and your thighs twitched in anticipation. "You're doing so well." Teeth nibbled at your neck until the skin was red and begging for more attention while fingers played with your hardening nipples.

Yorriichi rubbed the calloused pad of his thumbs over your buds before he gently twisted the peaks between his skilled fingers. He basked in you arching your back and the way you ground down on him, drawing a deep groan from deep within Yoriichi's chest.

A thin string of saliva connected your lips to Michikatsu's as he broke the kiss and left you chasing for more. He loved how your eyes were cloudy with want, lips swollen and glistening from the kiss, your body responding so well to every touch and word.

Michikatsu rested his forehead on yours while his hand spread apart your legs a tad bit further. The tips of his fingers brushed over the inside of your thigh and gradually drew closer to your damp core until he firmly pressed two fingers up against your pussy lips.

"Look at me when I touch you. And listen to Yoriichi. Think you can do it, love?"

You wanted to avoid the intense eye contact and throw your head back into Yoriichi's shoulder, but your body didn't listen to any of your thoughts. Gulping down the thick lump in your throat, you nodded your head.

"A-ah! Yes, I can d-do it!"

As a reward, you felt two of Michikatsu's fingers sink your cunt and stroke your walls, the kiss he gifted you turned your knees into jelly.

"Yorriichi. I think she can take both of us tonight, no?"

#yoriichi tsugikuni #yoriichi tsugikuni x reader #kokushibou #kokushibou x reader #michikatsu tsugikuni #michikatsu tsugikuni x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader

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highdwightofmylife · 3 years

Note

If your requests are open, could I request something with Jeff and his s/o basically adopting the legion as their kids please 🥺 thank you so much

God so WHOLESOME THANK YOU... also I'm writing this while waiting for a match why do I load in immediately as surv but the moment i wanna play killer it takes 300 years... just let me be Evan bhvr

ALSO FUCK THIS GOT SO LONG IM SO SORRY 😳😳

Jeff, His S/O and Their Four Teenage Ruffians

Jeff had told you that he'd met with the Legion prior to all... this. The fog, yknow? He told you about how he'd painted a big mural for them; how they gave him drinks, how... How he felt like he couldn't leave them alone up in that abandoned lodge after he'd finished their commission because it didn't feel right. So he told you he often checked up on them, and they always seemed so happy to see him. He told you it was like he'd suddenly adopted four kids that he'd occasionally bring snacks and cds for and make sure they were looking after themselves.

So now in the fog. His kids are a lot more vicious than he thought they were! But... That didn't mean he wasn't their dad anymore!

You met Jeff here, you started dating him here, and, well, with Jeff comes his misfit kids.

It takes them some time to view you as anything other than just another survivor, really. They have respect for Jeff but still kill him (although they have, occasionally, turned a blind eye to him in trials). So you? You worm you way into Susie's heart first. She doesn't trust you by any means, but her curiosity about what papa Jeff see's in you is too much to ignore. She begins to like you because you don't talk down to her. You don't treat her as the child of her group, as some people have done. She likes that you talk to her as an equal.

Doesn't mean she won't kill you though. But, at least she feels bad about it.

Joey's next. He trusts and respects Jeff, but he also sees how you are with Susie, and that's a bonus for him. He's more laid-back than the others, and he would have no qualms about approaching you when you're alone, sitting down beside you and gently asking some things. About what you did before all this, about how you and Jeff got together... He's really chill to talk to, and once you start conversing with him, he gets more at ease. Consider the first spontaneous meeting alone to be a test where he sizes you up and decides whether you can get closer to he and his family.

Susie talks about you all the time. She really warmed up to you and fast. Honestly Julie has gotten sick of hearing how nice you are and veing asked when you can come over.

Surprisingly? Frank's the one that follows suit with liking you. He starts teasing you every time he sees you, "ewwww, they liked Jeff,, ew... Old people love". Doesn't matter how old you are. You could be 18 and this man still calls you old just for being with Jeff. "ew are you two gonna fuck?? Gross"

But all that teasing is literally just because he's not very good at dealing with things, and he doesn't want to admit he likes you without making a fool of himself.

But you know he does like you because one time in the dead of night he came to you to ask you to bandage something for him and he was all like "BUT THIS IS ONLY BC UR THE LAST OPTION, I ASKED EVERYONE ELSE" but when you patch him up and send him on his way he says "thanks mom/dad" and then you see him go rigid and he's like "I-I-I MEAN... UH... FUCK YOU" and then runs away

Julie is the hardest kid to warm up to you. She always puts on a sour face when she sees you, and she actively distances herself. It's like. She doesn't need a parent. Doesn't want one. Says Jeff is more so "just some guy who painted our wall once" but everyone knows that's a lie. And when the other three start flocking to you, she feels very left out. She feels angry that you're taking her family from her. Stereotypical biological kid getting mad at a step parent for existing.

Julie accidentally let's her emotions flow in front of just you and Jeff. He says something trivial and she just blows up. "YEAH?? WELL ITS NOT LIKE I WANTED YOU TO BE MY DAD. BUT NOW YOU'RE IGNORING ME AND EVERYONE ELSE LOVES /THEM/ BUT I JUST KNOW THEY HATE ME"

And Jeff looks at you and looks at her and. "When did you assume they hated you?" And you can hear sniffles from behind her mask as she sadly/angrily kicks at the floor and, "Well it's obvious isn't it?? Why would they not"

Jeff looks you dead in the eye. "Sweetheart, do you hate Julie?"

"Absolutely not. Never have, never will."

And Julie looks up like ?????

And then Jeff laughs and it's very hearty and just... Good man...

Julie is now your aloof daughter than every now and then will give you a quick hug from behind, where you can feel her sigh and get all her emotions out, and then glare at you and power walk away.

You love your kids.

All six of you watching old VCRs on a beaten up TV in the lodge. Jeff and you snuggled up in the middle of the couch. Susie with her head on your lap. Joey sprawled out on the other side of Jeff with his legs dangling over the arm rest. Frank on the floor, hogging some really shitty popcorn. Julie sat on the back of the couch, closer to you than she ever thought she'd let herself. One happy, albeit dysfunctional family.

Joey seems to be taking after Jeff. Sometimes you and Jeff would just sit and draw or paint (or if you don't, you just vibe with him as he does). It was nice. And now sometimes, Joey gently asks if there's a space for him. It's so soft to see Jeff enthusing about his work while Joey eagerly listens. You like to watch them both lying on their stomachs on the floor, sketching. Jeff is teaching him all his tricks and Joey just eats it all up. Father son activity that you get to witness. And sometimes Joey will lift up his art and show you! If he has taken off his mask you'll see the absolute joy in his eyes.

Susie makes u a keyring I don't make the rules. Its made out of scrap and she had to get evan to help and when she presents it to you she is just SO HAPPY. The model daughter except she kills people on a daily basis

#dbd headcannons #jeff johansen #dbd jeff #dbd the legion #legion frank #legion susie #legion joey #legion julie #frank morrison #julie kostenko

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g4rous · 3 years

Text

Sunlit memories (Garou x reader)

tags: slight mentions of blood, no warnings really

words: 1.3k

notes: hi lol finally dropped the second chapter of the fic, feel free to tell me your thoughts again it means the world 💕

series masterlist

previous chapter

Chapter two

It had already been a week since that odd encounter with the mysterious guy, nonetheless you didn’t think much of it. The days weren’t as scorching as before, tempting you to go to the park to sketch even more. On one of your strolls you’ve noticed a cat lazing around your building and much to your glee it let you pet it almost every time it passed by. Despite occasionally having some work on your hands you even managed to clear away those 2 month-old boxes from when you first moved into your new apartment, finally tempted to call over a friend or two so they could see what you did with the place. At last you were getting used to the city and routines.

Well, at least that’s how you wanted it to be.

In reality the past week has been intriguing as it was chaotic. Monsters have been popping up and wreaking havoc even more fluently than before, making you question was moving here a mistake. Your daily strolls in that peaceful park reduced greatly with so much unease in the air. Even passing by one of the cafés wasn’t as soothing as before, since instead of music you only heard the citizens’ nervous chatter and rumors, most prominently about some “nutcase that hunts heroes for a hobby”. At this point walking home alone even after a relaxing day seemed straight up spine-chilling. To top it off “that dude” from before coincidentally just happened to cross paths with you almost every day, and you weren’t sure was it plain hilarious or just ridiculously awkward.

Be it at that same, now mostly deserted park from before, catching him speaking to some kid with a book in hand, or just in the passageway of one of the many alleys in the city, your curiosity grew even more. And the fact his occasional bruised, even bloody form caught your eyes more than once didn’t help. Even so, you’d always give a small wave, which he would (awkwardly) return. Truth be told, you were keen on actually starting a normal conversation with the man whose name still remained unknown. Why not? He doesn’t seem ill-mannered despite all the mystery surrounding him, too bad your plan to befriend often got spoiled by the fact he always seemed so preoccupied with something.

And here you are, waiting for the coffee machine at the nearest mini-market to deliver your drink while trying desperately not to glance over to that same man picking out what bag of chips to steal. (And yes, you bore witness to that before as well.)

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you sighed internally, keeping your eyes on the drink in-the-making.

Oddly enough, this actually seemed like a good opportunity to say hello. The machine finally finished its work, allowing you to take a good whiff of the delightful hot drink in your hands before taking a long waited sip.

“Eh, isn’t as good as when I make it but this’ll do.”

After glancing at him one more time, you mustered up the courage to walk in his direction. Though, as soon as you turned around someone else bumped into you, almost spilling your drink. A hero, to be exact. A tall man with black markings on his eye matching with his onyx hair, beside him three more who you couldn’t identify; one practically naked, the only clothing on him being a thong, heels and butterfly wings, one with light blond hair decorated with a peach headband and the last one wearing a dark expensive-looking suit with avocado patterns. Definitely didn’t see that one before.

The tall one was quick to apologize, to which you only gave a small, reassuring smile. Trailing your eyes to the other three, you noticed their stern, focused expressions, giving you the impression they didn’t come here for some junk food and sweets.

“Wonder what they’re up to,” you pondered after taking your eyes off them.

“Well, doesn’t matter to me anyways.”

After taking a small circle around the isle in front of you, the silver-haired teen was at long last close enough to converse with. Despite being right next to him, much to your surprise he didn’t bat an eyelid after you gave your signature wave.

“Um, I’m sure you already saw me when you came in but still-” you continued with a nervous smile“-I felt like I just had to say hi.”

And again you were greeted with more silence before he finally took the chips and turned the other way.

“Ah, sure. See ya then.”

“Yo, what?”

Was this some kind of a joke? Even that one haughty girl you remember you disliked in middle school wouldn’t give a response so numbingly dry.

Before you managed to ask any more questions, the man glanced over at your direction for a brief moment.

“Quit talking, they’re gonna think we’re friends or something.”

Standing there with a deadpan expression, drink still in hand you watched as he nonchalantly exited the store without the clerk noticing that unpaid bag of chips. At this point you regret even thinking about befriending him.

“So much for socializing,” you rolled your eyes and took another sip.

“Might just get a bag of chips myself. And pay for it.”

Sunlight shone from the store’s humble display window onto the handful of isles, making it look like a scene from some nostalgic 90s movie. Lost in thoughts, you stared at your sunlit reflection on one of the glass panes. The radio played one of your favorite songs, making you wish to stay in that comfy mini-market just a minute or two longer. Well, if only you didn’t turn around to see a bald man with a ridiculous-looking outfit and a horror-struck face trying to bargain the clerk to accept his expired coupons.

“Yeah, let’s just get out of this store already.”

Despite all the eccentric behavior you bore witness to today, one thing was still faintly clinging on to your mind as you walked down the almost empty street. Still somewhat irritated from that remark earlier, you’ve began to wonder what was that about in the long run, but on second thought you didn’t feel like getting any more annoyed.

You let out a small sigh before glancing at your phone. Looking ahead, now you were somewhat tempted to take a few good pictures of the sunlight reflecting on the eerie looking district about a hundred meters away. It was a ghost town filled with ghastly rumors, even so still incredibly intriguing.

“Huh, I wonder does anyone live there?”

However the instant those thoughts came to mind, your attention was drawn over to the alley on your left with its ruckus. You could’ve sworn to have heard some men shouting, yet before you even thought of retreating the other way you had already caught a glimpse of the commotion.

Two men lay sprawled out on the concrete, that half-naked hero and the one with the peach headband, both with a battered face. And if that sight didn’t stop you in your tracks, the familiar man behind the other two standing heroes from the store did.

That same silver-haired teen smirked at the two men equally battered as the ones unconscious on the floor. In spite of the blood trickling down his bruised fists, he kept an unshakeable stance. To say you couldn’t believe what you were seeing was an understatement. Just who the hell is this guy and what was he doing?

Just as he was seemingly about to make a remark towards the two heroes your presence caught him by surprise, which the two used slyly for an attack.

One made what seemed like a small smokescreen and afterwards all that was heard was the sound of the old parts of the building’s walls crumbling down. For a moment you were unsure whether to call someone to help or just back away from the scene altogether, not that it mattered since all you heard was a loud shout before black clouds overcame your vision.

#garou #garou x reader #opm #one punch man #opm x reader #garou x y/n #garo #one punch man x reader #one punch man one shot #opm fanfic

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army-author · 3 years

Text

namjoon scenario | the early hours

❝ chance encounters are what keep us going ❞ - Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

➝ summary: you love the city when it’s at its most quiet - in the early hours of the morning. you like it for its peaceful mystery. never did you expect that a stranger, spotted in your favourite 24-hour diner, would eventually invade your early morning solitude, and - most surprisingly - you wouldn’t even mind...

➝ pairing: namjoon x reader

➝ genre: fluff

➝ word count: 5.9k

➝ warnings: none

➝ author’s note: this whole fic is just me indulging in fluff! it was a lot of fun to write!

You prefer the night to the day. There’s something magical about the world after the hands of the clock pass the threshold into a new day. You are transported to a new experience – a new universe laid over the old – that will only be witnessed by a small handful of people, those who are still awake at ungodly hours. There’s a strange silence that stretches across the city after midnight. The occasional car sighs past, but the streets are empty. With the pavement bathed in blue moonlight and the sodium orange of streetlights, you could convince yourself that you’re viewing a parallel reality, shimming above the real world.

That’s why, despite your office job demanding that you get up at seven for the commute, you find it difficult to go to bed early. When you lie under the duvet at night, you have the odd feeling of missing out, aware of the city shifting beyond your closed blinds.

Most nights the city draws you out. The streets, that you often find yourself hating in the daylight – saturated with polluting traffic and bustling crowds, laying out a labyrinth of social interaction – are transformed at night, suddenly alluring in their quiet neon glamour. You love the lights. You love the moments of stillness, when the streets clear of taxis. You love the mystery.

That’s why you walk the streets at night. Sometimes you end up at your local convenience store, purchasing the discounted lunch snacks that didn’t sell that day. Other times you walk to a diner that remains open twenty-four seven – offering the best decaf coffee you’ve ever tasted. On occasion, you find yourself walking around the deserted shopping district, staring in the dark windows, haunted by the typical hubbub of the daytime.

This love of the city at night isn’t something you can properly communicate to anyone else. When you try to explain to your friends, they simply shake their heads and tell you that you should get some rest.

But how can you rest when the world is in its most pure, beautiful state? Sometimes, you think you prefer the company of the empty city to the company of people. You value the quiet – a respite from the drain of daily social interactions.

This is how, when the clock slips past midnight, you find yourself slipping out of your apartment. You fill your lungs with the cold air of the early morning, fresher without the fumes of traffic. It’s just stopped raining, and the onyx pavements glisten with dark puddles, reflecting back an alternate world where the street lights shine, distorted by ripples. It smells of wet tarmac. You zip up your coat and hitch your backpack up your back as you beat your feet along the familiar track towards your favourite diner.

As you walk, you pass stores, closed for the night, proffering clothes, make-up, and stationary that won’t be available again until nine in the morning. You pause in front of the bookstore to stare greedily at the hardbacks you can’t afford. You have a bookshelf at home filled with books you haven't yet finished. Still, the new releases stare back, tempting. They hypnotise you with the curve of their spines, their fresh paper, their smooth covers. Your wallet cries out in protest.

Rousing yourself from your thoughts, you push past the store, and walk down the street, turning at a pedestrian crossing. Ahead, you see the neon lights of the diner, pink and blue in the reflective pavement. You smile at the sight, like you would smile at an old friend.

Entering the diner, you find it empty. The sole waitress who works the nightshift glances up as you enter.

You take a seat at your favourite booth, next to the window. The waitress walks over to take your order, and you ask for a decaf coffee – as usual. Always the same order when it’s past midnight.

The waitress nods, and leaves the booth. You unzip your backpack and take out your sketchbook. It’s blue leather cover is soft in your hand. Past midnight is the best time to draw. When you’re enveloped in the cotton-soft murmur of the barely-stirring city, inspiration floats thick in the air around you – easy to pluck and put onto paper.

While you start sketching, the waitress silently sets your coffee and a pitcher of milk in front of you. You like the waitress because she never speaks more than necessary, silent for the vast majority of your interactions. It’s a welcoming, warm silence.

You take a sip of your coffee, black, the flavour washing over your tongue. Its a bitter and smoky taste, with a hint of chocolate. You breathe in the scent, invigorated, and set down the mug to continue drawing.

The door swings open, and despite yourself, you turn your head in the direction of the sound. It’s not often that someone else enters the diner at this hour. It’s too late for those who have clocked off from late shifts and too early for those who work early shifts.

Your gaze settles on the man who enters the diner. He’s tall, well-proportioned, in an umber jacket, with a bag slung over his shoulder. His hair has been dyed a light brown, but you can see black at the roots. He doesn't look like the typical patron at this diner. Then again, neither do you. Your eyes tack him curiously as he walks over to a seat in the corner. The waitress goes over to him, and he tells her his order in a deep, soft voice: “Decaf coffee, please.”

Despite knowing you should stop staring at this stranger, you cannot help but watch as the man takes a book from his bag, and removing a bookmark from the pages, resumes reading. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You smile. You like that book. A part of you wants to pipe up and tell him it’s a good read. But you never speak to strangers. You aren’t about to break a twenty-five year habit. You’ve got this far by allowing all your friends to do the introductions for you. Thank goodness for extroverts.

The waitress sets a mug of coffee beside the man, with her usual silence, and he murmurs his thanks.

You remain in your seat, sipping your coffee in silent thought, and adding to your sketch book. Before long, you’ve forgotten about the man sitting on the other side of the diner, focusing on the drawing you’re working on – a dragon slinking around the grey bricks of giant skyscrapers. The giant breaths golden fire.

For you, drawing is a way to organise your thoughts, spilling the contents of your head, giving them a concrete image you can identify. For that reason alone, you could never actually show anyone else your drawings. As you continue to sketch, the world slowly melts away into a pleasant white noise that hums around you.

It’s a shock when the quiet waitress walks up, asking if you would like a refill. You tell her you’re okay for now. Checking your phone, you realise it’s slipped past three in the morning, without you even realising. You need to get some sleep. Reluctantly, you stand up, slipping your sketchbook into the front pocket of your backpack. You leave a tip for the waitress, then make your way over to the door. Feeling eyes on you, your gaze falls to the man sitting in the corner. He’s observing you over the pages of The Hitchhiker’s Guide. Upon seeing you seeing him, his eyes quickly drop back to the book. Distracted, you bump against the edge of one of the diner’s tables, stumbling. You correct your footing, and with a blazing blush rampaging on your cheeks, you hurry out of the door.

✽ ✽ ✽

It isn’t until you get back to your apartment that you realise that your sketchbook is missing. You hunt around in your backpack, checking all the pockets, but it’s definitely not there. It must be in the diner. That’s the last place you had it.

You resist the urge to run back tonight. It’s past half three, and you have to work tomorrow. You can always go back to search for it later.

You lie awake in bed, worrying. In losing your sketchbook, you’ve left it open to the possibility of being read - your personal thoughts sketched out for a stranger to digest. It was your own carelessness that resulted in its loss, so you resign yourself to the possibility of never seeing it again, and slink, resisting, into sleep.

✽ ✽ ✽

The next evening after work, you return to the diner. You arrive earlier than you normally would. The sun is still visible – just setting beyond the crowns of tall apartment blocks. You arrive below the familiar neon blue and pink sign and open the door to the smell of chips and coffee. There are more people here than you are used to.

You check the table you normally sit at, which is mercifully empty. However, a quick search reveals no trace of your sketchbook. The quiet waitress who works the night shift isn’t there yet. Hesitant, you speak to the other waitress, explaining that you lost a sketchbook at the diner last night.

“Sorry, don’t know anything about it,” she says, wrinkling her brow.

Resigned, you thank her. You can always come back when the night shift starts and see if the other waitress knows anything about it.

Deciding to hang around the area, rather than return home, you grab some sushi at a nearby restaurant, then take a restless walk around the nearby park, watching pigeons pick at crumbs on the ground, and local college students smoke under the shade of trees. After you grow bored of the park’s trees, you wander around the streets, without direction, taking a long loop around the diner. The sky above darkens from blue to navy to black, and the streets slowly drain of life as people go home for the night. Still you stay outside, checking your phone every so often to keep a track of the time.

When it hits midnight, you return to the diner. The quiet waitress, who you are used to, is a welcome sight. She offers you the same small smile she always gives. You walk up to her. “Excuse me, I think I left a sketchbook here last night. Have you seen it?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says, “But if you think you left it here, feel free to have a look around.”

You frown. That wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You were so sure you had left it in the diner. Where else could it have gone? It was possible it had fallen out of your backpack on the walk home, but if that were the case, it could be anywhere.

Sighing, you tell the waitress not to worry, and order your usual decaf coffee. Sitting down at your favourite seat, with the comforting smoky scent of coffee beans wafting through the air, you wonder what to do next. You pick at the threading of your sweater, sip your coffee, and stare out the window. The sky is especially black tonight, clouds cover the stars and moon. Looking past your own ghostly reflection in the glass, a pool of darkness stares back, swirling with the stirring in your chest.

An hour could have passed, a minute could have passed, it’s unclear to you. Time seems to stand still in that diner, frozen on the brink of tomorrow, stuck between an old night and a new morning.

“Excuse me?”

You look up at the sound of the voice.

A man is standing by your booth – the man you spied in the diner yesterday, tall and slim.

Your gaze trails over his face – his cropped hair falls over his forehead, his crescent eyes capture the neon lights of the diner, soft dimples poke dents in the marble-statue structure of his cheeks.

“Hi,” you say, not sure why he’s speaking to you, but not wanting to be impolite either.

“Hi,” he says back. He searches in his bag, and pulls out a familiar blue sketchbook. “I think you dropped this yesterday.”

A wave of relief crashes over you. “Thank you so much,” you say, as he hands it back to you, “I had given up on ever seeing it again.” The worn leather cover feels comfortable in your hands.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” he points at the seat opposite you in the booth, “It’s my favourite spot.”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” you indicate for him to take a seat.

He sits down opposite you, and raises a hand at the waitress, who nods, and scurries off to fetch a coffee. “I figured the notebook must have been important to you, so I kept it safe,” he says, “It might have been a little presumptuous of me, but I had a feeling I’d see you again, and that I’d be able to return it.”

“Did you...” you trail off. The thought had crossed your mind that whoever found the sketchbook would end up looking through your personal drawings, and the worry had squeezed tight at your throat.

“Look inside the notebook?” The man asks, his waning-moon eyes scrutinising you.

You nod solemnly.

“No,” he says. “I didn’t.”

The second wave of relief hits you, warm like a tropical sea. “Good,” you stroke the soft cover of the sketchbook, “I really appreciate that.”

The man smiles, and his dimples deepen. “I must say, I’m a little curious what would bring someone to sit in a diner with a notebook in the early hours of the morning.”

A blush creeps hot under your skin. “I’m… drawing,” you admit.

The man nods.

You lick your lips which feel oddly dry. “But I suppose I could ask you the same - what would bring you here at these hours?” Curiosity cuts through your introversion.

The man shrugs.“I can’t sleep. I keep getting more and more frustrated, cooped up in my apartment, so I wander around at night, hoping I’ll get tired, and be ready to sleep when I go home. But something about the city at night is so exciting,” he stares out the window, at the darkness beyond, brimming with endless possibilities, “It doesn’t tie me out. It only excites me all the more.”

“I know what you mean,” you say, “I love the city at nighttime. It’s so alluring. I could wander around its abandoned streets for eternity, and never get bored.” Your blush only becomes all the more severe as you realise that you are spilling your heart to a complete stranger. Embarrassed, you shut your mouth, and swallow thickly.

The waitress arrives with a cup of coffee and pitcher or milk for the stranger. He thanks her softly, and without adding any milk, takes a sip of the dark liquid.

Unsure what to do with this stranger sitting across from you, you say, “If you were expecting any company from me, you might be disappointed. I’m not good at conversing with strangers.”

“Neither am I,” the man replies over his coffee cup, “Don’t worry. I was planning on reading anyway.”

Relieved, you take a mouthful of your own coffee.

The man pulls The Hitchhiker’s Guide from his bag, picking up where he had left off.

You scrutinise him for a moment, unsure what to make of this man. Something about his gentle manners, his kind smile, and his love for the city in the early morning resonates deeply with you – an unnameable vibration stirred at the very core of your being when you look at him. Despite your aversion to talking to people you don’t know, you find yourself wanting to make the effort to converse.

Instead, you open your sketchbook and begin drawing again.

Outside, the night flows by, a river of darkness punctuated by the occasional light from a car.

Time passes quickly without you realising. The man stands up to leave. “I should get going.”

“Oh yeah, I suppose it’s late,” you say, “Or is it early…?”

He packs his book back into his bag, and you take the courage to pipe up, “It’s a good read. Douglas Adams, I mean.”

“Oh yeah,” the man looks down at the novel in his hand, “It’s my third time reading it.”

You smile, “There’s this one line from the book that’s always stuck with me.” You pause, making sure you get it right, “‘Isn’t it enough to see that a garden is beautiful without having to believe that there are fairies at the bottom of it too?’ I’ve always like that.”

The man grins, his crescent-moon eyes deepening, “I like that too…” He looks as if he is considering his next words carefully. “Listen, I’m sorry if it was strange that I chatted with you today. I just felt compelled to do so. I don’t know why. But it reminds me of a quote from Kafka on the Shore, which is another book I’ve read at least three times - ‘Chance encounters are what keep us going’. I don’t know, I just thought you might like that one.”

“I’ve always meant to read Kafka on the Shore,” you say, “I really like Murakami.”

“You should read it,” the mans says, “It’s fascinating.”

“I will.”

“I’m Namjoon, by the way,” he says, “I don’t believe I gave my name before.”

“Nice to meet you Namjoon,” you smile, giving your own name.

With that, Namjoon exits the diner, leaving you to your own clouded thoughts as the door swings shut behind him. Despite yourself, you hope you’ll see him again.

✽ ✽ ✽

When you get home, you search your bookshelf for your copy of Kafka on the Shore. You never read it, despite is sitting on your shelf for a long time. You snuggle into bed, and start on the first page.

✽ ✽ ✽

The next night, you find yourself wandering the streets again, allured by the glowing neon lights on the city.

It’s a Thursday, and the streets are empty. Your feet lead you towards the diner. A small portion of you is hoping that you’ll see Namjoon again. You taste an oddly bitter disappointment on your tongue when you step inside, only to find the diner empty, apart from the quiet waitress.

Disheartened, you sip your decaf coffee, and read Murakami, while the earth spins by outside.

When you reach the bottom of the coffee cup with no sign of Namjoon, you stand up, resolving to go for a walk, rather than waiting around.

The air outside is cool and refreshing. You breath it in deeply, enjoying the cold sensation in your lungs.

Walking through the city, you wind your way through streets, passing abandoned play parks, empty shops, and silent office blocks. You could almost convince yourself that the whole world has stopped, and that you’re the last remaining human on the planet. Despite this, the earth still rotates, still makes its orbit around the sun, and this thought is comforting. Sitting down on a bench at the edge of a green park, you take out your sketchbook, and begin drawing. You want to capture this feeling permanently.

✽ ✽ ✽

As Friday rolls into Saturday, you avoid going out into the city at night. The city erupts with noise on weekend nights. People flock to the bars and clubs, laughing, joyous and loud, as they swing themselves down the streets. You don’t often go into the city on busy nights.

Instead, you stay inside, making your own decaf coffee from your coffee machine. It’s not as good as the coffee you get from the diner, but it’s good enough in a pinch.

These are the nights when you should sleep early to make up for your lack of sleep during the working week. Yet, as you lie in bed, staring at the dark expanse of your ceiling, your thoughts constantly circle back to Namjoon, hoping you’ll see him again some day.

The thought of connected souls flashes through your sleepy mind as you drift towards dreams. The idea is childish and naive, but it makes you smile.

✽ ✽ ✽

On Monday night – or is it Tuesday morning yet? – you return to the diner. Spotting a familiar figure at your favourite booth, you suppress a smile.

You sit down opposite him. He flashes you a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you say back. With a signal to the waitress, she goes to make you a cup of decaf coffee with a smile. “It’s nice to see you again,” you say, surprised at your own honesty.

The dimples pop onto Namjoon’s cheeks, giving his grin a boyish charm. “It’s nice to see you as well.”

The waitress sets down the coffee on the table. It trails tendrils of aromatic steam. Its bitter taste is a good distraction for your mouth, empty of words. You take a sip, revelling in the chocolate sweet aftertaste.

“I love the decaf coffee they do here,” Namjoon says, as you set down your cup. “I never found a decaf coffee that tastes quite like it.”

You nod in agreement. “I don’t know how they manage it. All the other decaf coffees I’ve had feel like they lack as special… something that regular coffee has. By taking out the caffein, the taste often suffers as a result. But this-” You indicate to the coffee “- This is good.”

“Finally, somebody else gets it,” Namjoon grins, “Although, if we’re talking caffeinated coffee, nothing can beat a cafe down the road from here. it’s called Cloud 9. Have you heard of it?”

“Oh yeah, I pass that coffee shop on the way to work,” you nod, “Never had a chance to go in though.”

“You should,” Namjoon says, “If you like this coffee, you’ll like it there. The beans they use are really rich, like dark chocolate.”

“Sounds good,” you say, leaning back in your seat. You examine Namjoon, sitting across from you. It’s uncommon for you to be so comfortable with a stranger, yet here you are, conversing with him as if he were an old friend. You wonder what about him makes him so different for you. A cursory glance does not show anything out of the ordinary: tall frame, slim figure, the kind of handsome face that doesn’t stand out in a crowd, but gets more handsome the longer you look at it. A few leagues above you. And yet here he is, sitting with you, by his own choice no less.

“What?” Namjoon questions your inquisitive stare.

“Sorry,” you feel your cheeks turning pink with a warm flush, “I was just thinking… it’s not often I can speak so comfortably with someone I barely know.”

“Me neither,” Namjoon admits, “But I felt a certain spark with you, so I thought I’d follow it through, and see where it leads. I hope you don’t mind?”

A warm hand clutches your heart. “I don’t mind at all.”

✽ ✽ ✽

You sit quietly in the diner with Namjoon opposite. You read Kafka on the Shore – he smiles at your choice. He reads The Hitchhiker’s Guide. The world pauses on its axis. You feel a deep-rooted peace, engulfed in the silence of the still night.

When the coffee in your cup has gone, Namjoon closes his book. “Would you like to take a walk?”

You slip the receipt for your coffee into your book, marking the spot where you stopped. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

You exit the diner, and follow Namjoon out into the dark street. He leads you down new paths, paths you had not explored before. The night is full of eager possibility with him by your side.

As you walk, you talk about everything and nothing, the universe flowing from each other’s heads, spilling your minds to one another, and bearing your soles bare in the process.

By the time you pause your walking, realising that you’re standing by an old play park that you recognise from childhood, you feel as if you’ve known Namjoon for an eternity.

You walk to the swing that stands at the centre of the park. It’s the large basket kind of swing – the sort that you would lie down on as a child, and beg for your parents to push.

Now, years later, you lie down again, and Namjoon pushes you gently. The sky is unusually clear above you, starlight shining past the orange glare of the city. The heavens bow down to greet you as you swing upwards, then pull away as you hit the crest of the arc and fall back down to earth. Namjoon pushes you again and the cycle repeats.

At least, Namjoon gets tired of pushing and lies down in the basket beside you. There’s not much space on a swing made for children. Your arm is squished next to his. Namjoon’s warmth seeps through your jumper.

“I’ve enjoyed tonight a lot,” Namjoon says.

“Me too.”

Namjoon turns his head to look at you. You pull your gaze from the starry sky to gaze back at him.

“Would it be okay if we do this again?” he asks.

A glowing fire sparks inside your chest. “Of course. I’d like that.”

Above you, the stars shine down, hazy through the city’s street-light sheen.

Namjoon moves his arm, wrapping it around your shoulders. The action fuels the fire in your chest. You nestle your head into the crook of his neck, and stare up at the vast sky.

✽ ✽ ✽

You spend your nights in this way, enjoying the secrets of the city with Namjoon by your side. You walk through empty parks, visit quiet pubs, wander around empty shopping centres, and as the nights pass, you find yourself enamoured with this stranger whom you can no longer call a stranger. You even find yourself sharing your sketches with him on the odd occasion, unafraid of his judgement.

Namjoon is on your mind, even when you’re apart – wondering if he would enjoy the book you’re currently reading, if he’d like a cafe you visited, if he’s thinking about you the way that you’re thinking about him.

On your lunch break at work, you decide to visit Cloud 9 with a friend from your office – because Namjoon recommended it of course.

“This place is really… quaint,” Taehyung says, twisting his neck to inspect every inch of the coffee shop. He’s right. House plants balance on shelves above wooden tables, and oil paintings hang behind brown leather armchairs, all combining to give the cafe a homey feel – like returning to your grandparents’ house. Your attention is dragged over to the bookshelf in the far corner of the cafe, loaded with lopsided piles of second-hand books. With you and Taehyung both in formal office clothes, you look a little out of place.

When you order your coffees, and sit down at a table by the window, you’re eager to taste the beverage that Namjoon had been praising. You ordered a black americano, because you don’t want the full taste of the coffee to be dulled by milk or syrup. The first taste explodes across your palate with the bitter tang of dark chocolate, that quickly mellows to a blackberry flavour, earthy and sweet.

Across from you, Taehyung gives a hum of approval as he sips his flat white, a moustache of foam forming on his lips, which he licks off.

You stare out of the window at the busy plaza outside. Families duck in and out of shops, office workers scramble to make it to their next meeting, and tourists snap pictures of the fountain in the middle of the square.

“Hey!” You realise that Taehyung’s talking to you. “Are you even listening?”

You focus your gaze on him, his blue office suit contrasting with the brown leather armchair he’s perched in. “Sorry, Taehyung, I’m listening.”

“You seem really spacey today,” he says, frowning, “I mean, normally you’ve got your head in the clouds, I know. But today is especially bad, even for you.”

“Sorry, you’re right.” You train your attention on your friend.

“You seem really tired,” Taehyung continues, “I know you’re a night owl, but I’m starting to worry a little.”

You consider his words. It’s true that you’ve been sleeping later and later each night, enjoying your time with Namjoon. Normally, you’d allow yourself a few nights to recover, and get a full eight hours of sleep, but you’ve been missing out, not wanting to loose any time with Namjoon. As Taehyung surveys you with concern in his eyes, you realise you should be taking better care of yourself.

“You’re right,” you say, “I have been missing more sleep than usual. I’ll sort out my sleep schedule. Don’t fret.”

“Finally, you acknowledge my sage advice,” Taehyung grins, taking another sip of coffee, “Seriously though. I’m rooting for you. Whoever it is that’s keeping you up later than usual, he must be a real catch!”

Heat rises below your skin, red and urgent. Taehyung’s smirk only amplifies as you blush harder.

“So I’m right,” he says, “This is about a guy!”

“It’s not!” Your denial comes too late.

“Nope. I don’t buy it,” Taehyung says, triumphant, “You’ve finally got yourself a boyfriend. After all these years a virgin! I’m so proud.”

“Shut up, Tae,” you laugh, kicking him softly under the table.

His mouth parts in a wide grin that you cannot stay angry at.

“Okay, fine,” you admit, “So maybe there’s a guy. But we’re not actually dating or anything. Not officially. We just enjoy spending time in each other’s company.”

“I hate to break it to you, but that’s what dates are,” Taehyung says.

You struggle to find a rebuttal to this. Your blush deepens.

“I’m really happy for you,” Taehyung leans across the table to give your hand a pat, “But if you could try to arrange some dates for the daytime, for the sake of your sleep, you’d make me even happier.”

“I can’t promise anything, Taehyung. You know what I’m like.”

“All too well.”

✽ ✽ ✽

The next night, you meet Namjoon at the diner as usual. You don’t have butterflies in your stomach. You have a whole flock of birds, flapping around nervously inside you.

Namjoon smiles his dimpled smile in greeting. “Would you like to take a walk tonight? There’s something I’d like you to see.”

“Of course,” you say.

You follow him through the city streets, along empty pedestrian crossings, past silent railway tracks, up a large hill where the pavement slopes, with apartment buildings sticking straight up, like a giant came along and stuck large white logo bricks into the slanting side of the hill. Up and up you climb, conversing with Namjoon all the while – about movies you’ve watched, plans for the holidays, favourite seasons, childhood pets.

When you reach the top of the hill, Namjoon stops. “Look,” he says, so you look.

The city stretches out in front of you, an ocean of winking lights. On the far side of the city, you can see a motorway, the red and white lights of cars whisking strangers to different points of the compass. Apartments and office buildings tower over smaller structures, a forest of artificial light. A faint mist hangs above the city, giving the whole vista an other-wordly quality – a city on a distant planet.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe.

Namjoon turns to face you. You look up to his face. His beauty strikes you once more, strangely contrasted to the beauty of the city. The city is alien. His face is familiar – it’s home.

“Tell me, Namjoon,” you say, “What’s going on between us?”

“What do you mean?”

“These walks we take every night. Would you count them as dates?” You are surprised by your own honesty.

“I suppose they could be considered dates,” Namjoon tilts his head towards you, eyes reflecting the galaxy of city lights.

You swallow, hesitating. Where are you supposed to go from here? You’ve never been on a date before.

“You don’t have to think of them as dates if you don’t want to,” Namjoon responds to your silence. “Although… I like the idea of dating you.”

“I like that idea as well,” you admit quietly. Your voice is barely a whisper.

A smile spreads across Namjoon’s face. His expression catches you off guard, mirroring your own surprised smile – surprised that a man, who was a stranger only a few weeks ago, has enriched your life so much.

“Could I consider you my boyfriend?” you ask.

“I’d like that,” he says. In the dusk, his hands find yours. A halo of light from the city’s bright haze outlines your skin.

You take a step closer to Namjoon, led by his hands, fingers threaded through your own. Your heart vibrates in your chest.

Half of his face is lit up by the city lights below. Slowly, imperceptibly, you lean towards him, while he leans towards you. His eyes ask you a question. You answer back. Your chest rises, pushing out a nervous breath. You close the distance between the two of you.

Your lips connect to his, soft and warm. You slide into the safety of his kiss, a kiss that says: I’m here, I understand you, I want this to last forever too. You sigh against him, a thrill rising inside you. On parting, you find that your legs are unsteady, and your head is spinning from the impact of two mortal bodies colliding.

Standing in the glow of the city, framed by the lights of the other living souls on the streets, Namjoon is more beautiful than ever. There are no words. You can only smile. Namjoon smiles back. He understands.

✽ ✽ ✽

“Namjoon?” He looks at you, eyes gentle as you speak his name. You’re walking with him, down from the hill where you had both confessed, and shared your first kiss.

“Yes?”

“Would it be okay if we had some dates during the day as well?”

He chuckles, “You know, I was going to suggest the same. I love the city at night, but...”

“But my sleep has been suffering,” you finish for him.

He nods, huffing out a laugh. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

His hand finds yours, his fingers cold, but his palm warm against yours. You’re always on the same page with Namjoon – two souls connected. You had thought the idea of soulmates was juvenile. Now, with your life entangling with Namjoon’s, you begin to understand. Two souls, singing in harmony. That’s what you have. A special, chance connection. You won’t let it go.

You squeeze Namjoon’s hand, and he squeezes back, and your souls entangle a little more.

- THE END -

➝ author’s note: i just love writing about this kind of setting - a calm, sleepy city with beautiful lights :’) it’s a shame that most cities aren’t like this in real life. even in my city, which is relatively safe, I wouldn’t feel comfortable walking around at night on my own, like y/n does! but hey, that’s what fics are for - wish fulfilment! i hope everyone is staying safe!

if you enjoyed this fic, feel free to let me know! <3

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