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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 11 months

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jealousy, jealousy || Lee Know x Reader

Summary: "Sure, Minho missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes."

Or: You're working with a different partner for a group assignment, and Minho's totally chill about it.

Word count: 4.9k

Genres: college AU, coffee shop AU, strangers to lovers

Warnings & Tags: jealousy, kissing, minor language, tooth-rotting fluff, seriously this is so fluffy, reader is implied to have social anxiety, Thunderstorm

series masterlist

A/N: This is the second story I've written where Lee Know's a barista and cats are involved. It probably says something deep about me, but what? I hope you'll enjoy the fic, please consider letting me know your thoughts and reblogging the fic if you do~

Minho doesn't know exactly when he noticed you, or when you started appearing in his life. It’s kind of annoying actually, because he knows he noticed you because he kept seeing you around, but he has no way of pinpointing it. What he does know is that you started showing up at the coffee shop where he worked, twice every week. That wasn’t that big a deal, you were far from being the only one the only one, but it was a shop that was pretty out of the way, near an old building that was only used for a few classes, as far as he knew, so it wasn’t that frequented.

In fact, you could almost say that the people who bothered to come here were the weirdos who wanted to avoid the other permanently full coffee shops on campus. Which was fine by Minho, who wasn’t paid enough to deal with that sort of crowd.

Anyway, at some point, Minho’s brain had to have put together he was seeing you around quite a bit, and finally he managed to figure out that it was because you were in one of the classes he was rudely forced to take outside of his major. In his defense, it took him so long because he didn’t really like people, as a rule, and he paid as little attention to them as possible. His friends were enough of a hassle to deal with already.

It makes it all the more frustrating that he can’t tell what it was about you that caught his attention. It has to have been something. Once he starts trying to understand it, more things come to light. Like the fact that your lips move but your voice doesn’t come out when you thank him for giving you your order, or the sigh of relief you always seem to heave out when you let yourself fall at your favorite table, the one in the corner, where you sit with your back to the window.

Actually, from what he can see, you appear to do your best to stay out of people’s way. It’s a multitude of little things, from how you always sit in the middle of rows in the amphitheater and wait until everyone’s cleared out to leave, to how you keep close to the walls in the hallways, eyes usually on the floor, to how, on the couple of occasions when your voice can be heard in class, it’s only after the professor’s been waiting for an answer for an increasingly embarrassing amount of time.

The first time it happens — the first time Minho notices it happening, anyway — he has to make you repeat yourself louder, and it seems almost painful for you to raise your voice.

Then there’s that time when someone accidentally backs into you and the books and papers you’re carrying spill onto the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” they say, and you reply immediately, like it’s a reflex, “Oh, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it”, but afterwards, as you kneel next to the papers, you let out a defeated sigh, just staring at the mess for a few seconds. And that’s when Minho can’t stay in place anymore.

“Oh, thanks, you don’t have to do that,” you say, again, with that cadence that makes him feel like these are sentences that pour out of you without you getting much of say, so deeply ingrained in you that you can’t control them.

Then you glance up at him, and your eyes widen, little mouse caught in the cat’s gaze. He feels his lips curving into a grin. You recognize him, and you’re being very obvious about it too.

Cute.

“Thank you,” you repeat, taking your stuff from his hands and dipping your head to stop looking at him once you get control of yourself again.

“Vanilla latte, right?” he asks, and he probably shouldn’t be this amused by the way your head snaps back up and you freeze, but it’s— It’s kind of adorable. Though you’re obviously trying to reign yourself in, there is something so sincere about it that he can’t help but be enticed by it.

“Um,” you say. “Yes.” And then you visibly search for something to say next, rolling your lips together as if they’ll figure something out of a list of socially acceptable answers. As fun as this is, Minho decides to put you out of your misery.

For now anyway.

“I’ll give you a discount on the next one,” he says, and then he’s gone before you can start saying “You don’t have to do that”.

He actually slides the next one to you over the counter and tells you that it’s ‘on the house’. You hesitate for a few seconds, and he thinks you’re going to refuse, before you bow your head politely and thank him for it. You don’t quite look up at him after that, but a bright smile has spread on your lips.

Cute, he thinks, again, and then he doesn't think of it much at all. A part of his brain was intrigued by the novelty that you represented, and that part has been satiated now.

At least, that’s what he assumes.

You get his attention again a few weeks later. It’s fairly early in the morning and, as Minho does whenever he gets a chance, he’s behind the half abandoned building near the café, setting up some food for the cats that have taken residence here. It’s something he’s not really allowed to do, but also he’s never asked permission, so no one's told him that yet, which means that he’s not not allowed to do it either.

Still, when he hears footsteps approaching as he’s surrounded by a chorus of meows, there’s a part of him that considers making a run for it.

But then he’d have to run.

Which he doesn’t like doing.

You appear at the corner of the building before he’s made his decision. When your eyes meet, he half expects you to turn around and pretend you haven’t seen him. He’s pretty sure you’ve done that after a class, recently. You swallow, but you keep walking towards him, kneeling by his side and petting the cats as the braver ones rub themselves against your legs.

Whoever said that the surest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach clearly wasn’t obsessed with cats, because liking cats is maybe the most important requirement for Minho.

“Hi,” you say, at a surprisingly normal volume, and then, cadence a little too fast, “I have some cat food.”

Is it weird that he finds that attractive? It’s probably weird.

“Have you been stalking me?” he says more than he asks, vaguely aware of the fact that there’s something ironic about him saying those words.

Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head.

“No! I— have classes in there,” you point at the building, “and I’ve— seen you come around here. We’ve been told we couldn’t feed the cats,” you add with a slight pout. “We still do it when we can get away with it, but it's good that someone is also taking care of them.”

And you break the law for the sake of cats. Isn’t this amazing.

“I can help you buy food,” you say. “If you’d like.”

He doesn't reply right away, and when the silence stretches a second too long, you start speaking again, faster and your voice lower now.

“Or not, you know, I don’t want to impose anything, I mean, I didn’t want to intrude—”

On the one hand, that seems more like you, based on the glimpses of you he’s been getting, and on the other, he’s not sure how to shut that down. The truth is, he can barely fit the expenses in his budget. He literally can't afford to refuse your help — but he doesn't think he’d do it if he could.

“You can help,” he says, interrupting you in the middle of a sentence where you’re basically apologizing for existing, and that seems to knock the breath out of you.

“Oh,” you say, “that’s good.”

He wonders if you walk into interactions with a prepared set of sentences and panic when anyone goes off script. That sounds kind of exhausting.

“I’ll bill you,” he adds, and the feeling he gets when you let out a light laugh is one he can’t quite explain. There’s a sense of pride in it, but also some much deeper satisfaction at the feeling of having gotten you to let that guard slip, even for just a few seconds.

“I have to go to class,” you say, getting up while you rummage through your tote bag to hand him a package of dry food. “But I’ll, uh, see you around?”

There’s an expectancy to your tone, a hope even. He wonders if you’re aware of it. Either way, that sincerity, which he’d noticed before, remains pleasantly refreshing.

“Sure,” he says.

The next time you show up at the coffee shop, Friday a few minutes after six, like always, he has your vanilla latte ready.

After that, Minho finds it fascinating to see how differently you react to him, depending on the situation. Every now and then, you meet him behind the building, usually early in the morning, before there are too many people around. They would probably recognize you, and then you’d get in trouble, you explain. Your voice is lighter then, your body more relaxed. You manage to chat with him, to make small talk.

‘Manage’ really is the word for it, because your behavior is worlds apart when he sees you in class. It’s clear by now that this just isn’t your element, so you stick to your script, and Minho just isn’t a part of it. He doesn’t take it too personally, considering that no one else seems to be either.

It’s obvious to him that you get there with the objective of being in and out of the building as efficiently as possible, and with as little interaction with others as you can get away with. He does approach you still on a couple of occasions, one of them being when the classes before yours ran late and everyone was waiting in the hallway. You're focused on your phone then, and you jump when he says your name.

“How are you doing?” he asks, leaning against the wall next to you.

“Oh,” you say, which he thinks is just your filler word to give yourself time to figure out what to say next. “Um. Good. How are you?”

“Good.”

Someone else would bristle at the awkwardness of the exchange, but Minho is mostly amused by it. After a few seconds of very visibly searching for something to say, you come up with “…and how are the cats?”, though your tone is hesitant, unsure.

“They’re good too,” he grins. “Went to visit them this morning. Also, I might have found an association that could them spayed.” He certainly can’t afford to pay for it.

“That’s great,” you say.

This time, he’s the one who takes it upon himself to save the conversation, casually pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Wanna see my cats?”

You light up at the question, and Minho feels the same sort of pride he does when Dori jumps into his lap to ask for pets — instead of ungratefully evading him like the little shit he is.

It doesn’t last long, the class before yours ends soon, and after that you get back to your ‘just getting in and out’ state. It’s almost physical when it happens. The smile disappears from your lips as you press them together, you straighten your back, but the most impressive change is the way your eyebrows tighten, a small line forming between them. Minho almost wants to reach out to wipe it from your forehead, but he doesn’t. Baby steps, that’s what you need, not him invading your personal space by that much.

He doesn’t ask himself, even for a second, why he’s willing to go through that much trouble to get closer to you. He just goes with the flow, as he always has, and that works fine for him.

He doesn’t sit next to you in class, thinks it would only stress you out more, make you too aware of his presence and of how you react to it. Instead, he takes a spot right in front of you, where he can’t see you but can easily check on you if he wants to — which he does. He refrains from doing it too much though, because on more than one occasion, he caught you looking at him, and you averted your eyes quickly, acting a little too invested in your note taking.

He still thinks it’s cute, but he doesn’t want to make you go in hiding, so he holds himself back.

Which comes back to bite him in the ass, rudely, when the teacher announces that he wants people to work in pair for an assignment.

He turns around to ask you to work with him, and sees, right in front of his eyes, as the guy sitting next to you asks you the same thing in a casual manner. You reply too fast, one of your knee-jerk answers, he can tell, but it’s still done before he even got the time to open his mouth. He also knows, instinctively, that you’ll feel embarrassed if he asks you now, so he doesn’t, turning to his own neighbor while holding back the strange urge to hiss at the guy.

…maybe he spends too much time with cats, actually.

Minho’s fine with the situation. He is. He still gets to be around you some mornings, and you now look him in the eye when you place your order at the coffee shop. You also don’t recoil as much as you used to when he leans over the counter, ostensibly to flirt with you — though he’s like, 98% sure you haven’t realized that’s what he’s doing. He’s making progress in getting you to feel more comfortable around him.

Sure, he missed an opportunity to spend more time around you in a relaxed setting, but is he upset about it? Does he get annoyed when he hears you talk with the guy behind him? Does hearing you chuckle at the guy’s stupid jokes, probably just to be polite, ‘cause he’s not that funny, make him want to claw the dude’s eyes out?

Well. Yes.

He’s been moody about it for days, to the point that Jisung pouted at him, asking him “what was wrong with him these days”, and Changbin looked him dead in the eyes to ask him if he needed help to get a girl, because he clearly needed to get laid.

A conversation he got out of by replying “do you want to die”, which is a card he’s maybe been playing a little too much these days.

He’s been in a good mood today, though. He’d seen you in the morning, and you’d helped him try to make a small shelter for the cats, because it had been announced that there would be heavy rain over the whole week-end. It had been a fun time, and maybe he’d used the opportunity to get closer to you than usual, enjoying how flustered it made you. Just brushing against you as he grabbed some planks you’d sneaked out of the building, totally accidentally touching your hand when you handed him something, that kind of things.

He had somewhat ruined the effect by accidentally dropping a plank on his foot, but that had made you laugh, so, it was— No, it still wasn’t worth it, he didn’t enjoy pain, but it made him slightly less annoyed about it.

So, as he waited for you in the coffee shop, as the skies outside darkened and fewer people than usual showed up, he wasn’t in as bad a mood as he’d been lately.

It started to rain at around half past five. He would have loved to run to get you with an umbrella, but he, unfortunately, needed his job. He did get a towel ready to hand to you, in case you didn’t have anything to protect yourself from the rain.

And then you came in.

Under an umbrella.

Which was in the hands of the one guy that was your partner in that one class.

Violent thoughts of murder flash before Minho’s eyes.

“Hey,” you say as you walk to the counter, giving him a bright smile, “this is Jooyeon, he’s in—”

“Class with us,” Minho completes with a smile that’s very much fake, “yes, I recognize him.”

Actually, technically, Jooyeon hasn’t done anything wrong, but it doesn’t help that he’s been looking at you and following you around like a damn puppy. What annoys Minho the most is probably the fact that you seem a lot chiller around him, a lot more natural than you are whenever Minho’s around. That’s— upsetting. He wants to see these sides of you, too, and not just from afar.

One vanilla latte and an americano later, you and Jooyeon sit by the window, in your usual spot, and Minho can’t stop himself from glaring. Jisung, or anyone, really, would call him out on it in a matter of seconds, because he’s not being subtle about it, but there’s no one around right now. The room, which is rarely full, is emptier than usual because most people rushed to get home to try to avoid the downpour.

That means that there is nothing to distract him from the intrusive thoughts that are trying to convince him to just throw something at Jooyeon. Anything would do.

When it starts becoming a little too tempting, and considering that he doubts anyone would brave the rain that’s falling at the moment, as thick as a curtain separating the coffee shop from the outside world, he decides to grab his computer and try to get some work done.

Of course, because some divinity out there must have decided to target him today, he’s just getting started and finding his rhythm when the lights flicker above him. He glances up. In the distance, the thunder rumbles.

There’s a flash outside.

And everything goes dark.

Fuck. His. Life.

With a sigh, he pulls out his phone to turn on his flashlight. At least, in this day and age, most people in the shop have the same idea, and soon enough he can see what’s happening.

“It’s probably just a power cut because of the storm,” he announces loudly, because it’s his responsibility to reassure the clients — if that had been something they’d tested for when he was interviewed, he would never have gotten the job. “Lights might come back on soon.” Or not, how would he know. “No reason to panic.”

He scans the faces of students, though he’s not sure what he’s looking for. Some people look worried, others, no doubt those who know that this happens semi-regularly on campus when there’s a storm, because why would your tuition pay to ensure that you have reliable electricity in here, just seem prepared to wait it out. Someone’s already gone back to tapping on their keyboard, though the sound of it is swallowed by that of the rain.

But then, he does a double-take, just to check on an impression that he had, and that confirms what he thought.

You’re not in the room. Most likely explanation is that you’re in the bathroom, but he has to imagine that it’s a pretty freaky experience, when all the lights turn off without warning and you’re all alone.

So, without thinking much about it, he makes his way in that direction. He’s hesitating in front of the door when it pushes open, and he’s suddenly blinded by cellphone light.

“Sorry!” he hears you apologize before he can make out your face. “I, uh, is the power out?”

“It looks like it,” he answers, and then his tone softens. “Are you okay?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, and he can’t quite discern your expression, because you’ve both lowered your lights. He resists the urge to reach for you, to inspect you to see for himself that everything is fine.

“I’m fine,” you answer. “I just—”

Then there’s the crack of thunder, and you jump, gasping, before closing your eyes in obvious annoyance.

“Fuck,” you say, and he wonders if it’s the first time that he’s ever heard you swear. And if it’s weird that he’s kinda into it.

“You scared of storms?” he asks, trying his best to contain the amusement in his voice.

“No,” you protest, a little defensively. “I don’t like being surprised— Fuck!”

Minho knows he shouldn’t laugh, that making fun of you could ruin the trust he’s been trying to build this past month, but at your annoyance for letting yourself be taken by surprise, and considering your obvious lack of fear, he can’t help it. It comes out higher than his usual pitch, a little airy. You roll your eyes at it, but you don’t seem to miss the humor in the situation, because a smile forms on your lips as well.

At that point, because he isn’t one to let an opportunity slip, he reaches out to take your hand in his. Your palm is soft, if somewhat calloused on the spot under your fingers, and after the first moment of surprise, you squeeze his hand in response.

“It’s okay,” he says. “It should be over soon.” Then a pause. “Or maybe we’ll be stuck here until we have to decide who we’re going to eat.”

You laugh at that, brief and light, and as cliché as it is, Minho thinks that is quickly becoming one of his favorite sounds in the world. Especially when he’s the one making you laugh, and not that jackass Joo— Ah, the kid hasn’t technically done anything, and it feels silly to blame him when you’re here with your hand in his.

So he’ll let it go. For now.

As much as he would like to stay here with you, in the dark, away from everyone else, Minho unfortunately has stuff he needs to take care of right now.

“Wanna go back with the others? I think I have to keep an eye on them.”

“Sure,” you say. You don’t attempt to take your hand from his, and so he pulls you along with him. He’s not going to let go if you won’t.

Things in the café are still quiet, and people don’t pay a lot of attention when the two of you come back, except for Jooyeon, who gets up from his seat.

“That must have taken you by surprise,” he says with empathy. “Everything okay?”

“All good,” you reply warmly, and there’s a pinch in Minho’s chest again. “I think we’ll have to postpone the session though. I’ll let you know when I’m free, if that’s okay with you?”

Ugh. Minho tunes Jooyeon’s response out, only waiting for an opportunity to whisk you away. He probably shouldn’t feel this strongly about it, is aware that you’re entirely within your own rights if you want to pick Jooyeon over him, but from his perspective, that doesn’t mean he has to let it be an easy decision to make. He’s not the type to lie down and just watch as that happens.

So the second Jooyeon’s eyes flick back to his computer, Minho’s taking you towards the counter with him. He checks the register once he’s there — which he definitely shouldn’t have let unattended without verifying that it couldn’t be accessed without electricity, oops, his bad — and after having confirmed that everything’s fine, his eyes go back to you.

The spike in his heart rate when he finds you already staring at him surprises him a little. He supposes that he can’t be that jealous without also having that sort of reaction to you. It’s not… unpleasant, actually, though the strength of it surprises him. It’s not the kind of emotion he usually welcomes, he’s used to them feeling less sharp, duller. But he doesn’t reject that one.

Gently, he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his.

“Is there an issue between him and Jooyeon?” you ask, voice soft.

Ah. For someone who’s so completely oblivious about his interest in you, you were sure quick to notice that.

“You could say that,” he replies, and you frown.

“I didn’t know that,” you say, words coming out slow, like you’re figuring out what to say as you go, instead of defaulting to your usual pre-built answers. “Can I ask why?”

Minho raises an eyebrow. Then, wordlessly, he shifts himself so that you’re against the counter, with him standing in front of you. It’s interesting, because he’s almost exactly in the spot where he is every day, and every time he steals glances at you to make his day marginally better. He puts his hands on either side of you, hears you take a sharp breath.

“Is it okay if I kiss you?”

His voice comes out soft and muted, and as he asks, he feels something squeeze at his heart. Maybe because he’s not sure of what you'll answer. Maybe because he could have misread you, thought that you were oblivious when the truth was that you weren't interested. He could be keeping you away from your one true love, Jooyeon, who you’re going to go on to marry and have three k—

“Yes,” you squeak.

Ok, never mind.

Technically you’re in public, but it’s not like anyone’s looking your way, or like they'd see something other than silhouettes when he leans towards you.

It feels so natural when he kisses you. You lift your arms to wrap them around his neck, his hands find their place on your hips. Much to his surprise, you’re the one who presses yourself into him, lips moving softly against his, and it sends a jolt of electricity through his body. Suddenly there’s urgency running through his veins, desire, and his fingers dig harder into you. He kisses you with more intensity, like he’s trying to get rid of any space left between the two of you, and the soft sigh you let out only spurs him on further.

He’s seconds — fractions of seconds — away from doing something stupid when laughter and claps fill the room.

He parts from you, feeling his ears and cheeks turning red already, and discovers that the lights treacherously turned back on, and everyone is looking at the two of you. Protectiveness rushes through him, and he’s about to say something snappy, thinking that you’d be uncomfortable with it, when he realizes that you’re doubled over in laughter. Yes, you look a little embarrassed, but mostly, you seem fine with it.

Which is good, because otherwise he thinks he might have lost the shop a number of customers.

Everyone looks amused and happy for the two of you. Even Jooyeon’s grinning, though the look he gives Minho says, essentially, “Oh that was your problem”. It doesn’t capture people’s attention very long, but there’s something very sweet and human about the moment and how happy it seems to make everyone. Some regulars even exchange glances that seem to mean ‘I told you so’. Ha, he didn’t think he’d ever become campus gossip.

Once there are fewer eyes on the two of you, Minho leans towards you.

“I’ll take you on a date anywhere, as long as it’s not to get coffee.”

Your face lights up.

“I’d love that.”

Working at a coffee shop is not something that Minho finds very fun. Someone who enjoys human interactions more than him might, but it just feels very repetitive to him. Doing the same movements, asking the same questions, having to deal with the same issues from asshole customers who are different but also fundamentally the same person. The ding of cash register, the one of no contact credit cards, the buzzing of the coffee machine. It’s repetitive, but in a way that fills and numbs the mind.

There’s just one sound that he minds a little less now, and it’s the one the door makes when it opens.

Because, every now and again, it means that you’ve just come in.

“Hey,” you say as you reach the counter. You’re smiling so bright, and he loves it because he knows that it’s another one of those things that you can’t help. You’re smiling because he makes you happy, and isn’t that the best thing in the world?

“Dating the barista doesn’t entitle you to free coffee,” he says as he slides your vanilla latte over to you, though he has used his employee discount on everything you’ve ordered lately and he would very much give it to you for free if you didn’t insist on paying for your own stuff.

“We’re still on for tonight?” you ask, taking the coffee from the table.

“You think I’d let you get out of it?” he replies, and you laugh, before taking off to go to your usual table.

After that, he keeps going, keeps doing the same movements, asking the same questions, hearing the same noises. But sometimes, he glances in your direction and finds you focused on your computer, biting your lower lip as you’re deep in thought, or looking at him with a smile, and it makes it all more bearable.

Because you give him something to look forward to.

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard

#stray kids #lee know #lee know x reader #minho x reader #stray kids imagine #skz #lee know imagine #skz imagine #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #lee know fanfic #lee minho x reader #lee know fluff #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #candywrites

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meltedicescream · 3 years

Text

Obey Me Bois with an Mc who has No Self Preservation

eyyy im back with my dumbassary

Spoilers for 15-16-17

tw//death, drowning, etc

Tags: Angst

Lucifer

Poor man is loosing any sleep he was getting because of you

He's had to stop you from fighting all of his brothers multiple times because you tried to fight them

He's also had to stop himself from fighting you

This man has caught you telling a lower level demon "do it pussy" because that demon told its friend it would eat you, and he had to immediately pick you up under your arms like a misbehaving cat

He's picked you up like this multiple times

He's genuinely thought about keeping you on a leash because of how often you have strayed away from the group and almost fucking died

Mammon

Loves joining you in almost falling off of a cliff on accident because you thought nothing bad could happen

Actually he doesn't.

He has mini panic attacks when he can't find you

He'll occasionally pick you up when he realizes that you're in a dangerous area

Has caught you before you told a random, really buff demon to fight you, apologizing to the demon profusely while holding you under his arm

He has also thought about keeping you on a leash

He says he doesn't care about you but he's the main reason you don't almost die

Leviathan

This fucker didn't care until he took you to an anime convention and told a very buff cosplayer to fight you

He kind of relates it to an anime character he likes

He's caught you from straight up just diving into his fish tank because you thought you could swim all the way to the bottom, but he knew you would drown

Keeps you in his room most of the time and always keeps an eye on you

He won't let you leave his sight, he doesn't want his best friend dying!

He loves keeping you distracted from fighting someone with viceogames

Satan

Oh boy do you make him angry

One time while you were in his room he had to catch you before you could fall because you had climbed onto a pile of books to reach a book you thought looked interesting

He scolded you so bad

He has to keep an eye on you while your in his room

And when your in the kitchen he has to be at the door to keep you from accidentally poisoning yourself

He hates your guts

But he would hate it even more if you died or accidentally hurt yourself

He has kept you on a leash, at least until Asmo said somethin about it to him

He hates asmo now because thats all he can think about now

Asmodeus

He almost screamed when he saw you on the kitchen counter just so you could reach something on the top shelf

He of course quickly ran over and caught you when you fell

You get scoldings every time he sees you doing something stupid

Sometimes he has to charm lower level demons so they won't actually fight you

He swears up and down he's getting stress acne because of you, but even without makeup he has no pimples in sight

Poor man looses his beauty sleep because of you

Beelzebub

Don't worry, he's got you under control

He simply picks you up if you ever start climbing on counters or trying to fight someone

He's never taken care of someone so short before so its really new to him

But he'll gladly carry you around if it means you won't accidentally fall off a counter and hurt yourself or actually get into a fight

He's done this with Mammon (short king) before, when they were younger, picking up Mammon so he wouldn't get into fights over debt

Even if you're just standing on the coffee table to be eye to eye with one of the brothers, he'll still pick you up to make sure you don't get hurt

Belphegor

heres where the spoilers are oh boy

He never expected a human, something so fragile it could die from just one stab, would be so bold as to stand on a counter to reach a mixing bowl

If it hadn't been for Asmo you would have died again because he wasn't fast enough

And when he was intentionally killing you, he didn't expect you not to fight back, you had simply thought the other brothers would come and save you, but you were sadly killed. BUT YOU LIVED!

He's the reason Beel is like a helicopter parent for you

He asked Beel to keep a close eye on you so you wouldn't fucking die any time you got close to a ledge

He doesn't want to lose you, he cares too much! And he hasn't had as much time with you as his older brothers have had

no more spoilers, dear

Diavolo

Because of his princely duties he didn't notice you climbing onto his desk to get his attention, but he looked up right as you fell, swiftly catching you

You get many a scolding from him, but he feels bad about it so he gives you candy, too

He's asked Barbatos to keep an eye on you, but it seems he can't keep control of you without being right next to you at all times

Poor guy is stressed because of you!

He got one of those dog harnesses for you so he could simply tie you to a table with a leash so you wouldn't climb on something you weren't supposed to

And the amount of times he's heard of you almost getting into fights is astronomical

He genuinely thinks he has to keep one eye open just to make sure you aren't climbing through his bedroom window

Barbatos

Due to him being able to see into the future he can easily control you

Buuuut that doesn't mean he hasn't ran into rooms really fast for some close calls

He was wiping down the dining room table due to Diavolo accidentally spilling something when he suddenly dashed into the kitchen. You had been planning on making some cake for the demon prince but you couldn't quite reach the flour so you climbed onto the counter, only to slip. And in the nick of time, Barbatos ran in and caught you right before you hit the ground

He already has enough on his plate, but he's still very willing to take care of you

He's in a group chat with all of the brothers just so he can send a quick text of "mc's about to walk into the basement, grab them before Cerberus does"

Solomon

Wizard bitch tried to use magic on you to keep you from almost dying all the time because you think you can't die

Since magic doesn't seem to stop you, he uses it to catch you or block you from something

He also used his pact with barbatos to his advantage when it comes to you

He doesn't care all that much though, just as long as you don't die

One time he had to physically catch you because you were a dumbass and decided to do a trust fall off of the dining room table in Purgatory Hall

Simeon

So he had two children to take care of?

He's always holding your hand no matter what as if you were a toddler so you can't run off and almost die

He has went into his full angel form just to catch you before you could slip off of something

He doesn't trust you with anything sharp so he doesn't allow you in the kitchen

He won't let you around anything dangerous out of fear of you hurting yourself

He fucking started crying when you simply slipped in a puddle and scraped your knee. Humans are so fragile and he thought you were going to die!

Luke

The baby can't do anything when you almost die so like theres nothing here lmao

465 notes · View notes

h0neypjm · 3 years

Text

Just for practice | kth

↳ Summary: “I think we should normalise giving head to your friends as practice.”

↳ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader, slight Hoseok x reader

↳ Genre: Smut, pwp, some plot i guess, best friend! Taehyung

↳ Rating: 18+

↳ Word count: 5.3k

↳ Warnings: swearing, lip biting, hickies, oral (both female and male receiving), rough blowjobs, spanking, fingering, squirting, big dick! Tae, possessiveness/jealousy, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap pls), dom/sub themes, Taehyung calls reader lots of pet names (sweetheart, darling, good girl), degradation, biting, slight cockwarming

↳ a/n: I’ve been having major writer’s block while writing confident :( however, i saw this tweet which prompted this lil oneshot hope you enjoy

Jung Hoseok [ 2:15 PM ]

Am I gonna see you at Seokjin’s tomorrow?

You [ 2:16 PM ]

I’ll be there :)

Jung Hoseok [ 2:18 PM ]

You’re not gonna run away from me this time, right?

You [ 2:20 PM ]

No of course not haha

Jung Hoseok [ 2:21 PM ]

Is that a promise princess?

A sigh flies out of your mouth like wind through a window and you’re shucking off your glasses in an instant. Hoseok’s texts bringing back a flurry of memories that you wish to forget.

“Do you need help with your essay again?”

Your eyes are strained when they try to focus on Taehyung, your shoulders shrug in defeat. “No, I’m fine. It’s just-”

Taehyung knows immediately, he is your best friend after all. “Let me guess, It’s Hoseok isn’t it?”

You slump in your seat while a pout is cutely drawn onto your face, you nod with dismay. “I really like him Tae, and every time we see each other, It’s like the universe has it out for me and tries to make sure I embarrass myself in front of him.”

Taehyung shuts his laptop because he knows there's no use in trying to write an essay while you speak about your utterly tragic love life. He thinks about your situation for a minute before he speaks.

“Yes, you might’ve spilled your beer on him and accidentally punched him in the eye, more than once. But, if he’s still texting you he’s obviously still into you. It’s a good sign sweetheart.” Taehyung pats your hand across the coffee table, a comforting smile adorning his handsome face.

Taehyung doesn’t know the full extent of your problem and the more you think about it the more embarrassing it becomes. So you smile back at him uttering a small thank you before turning back to your laptop.

Taehyung raises a brow, “wait, wait, hang on, something is still bothering you.”

You frown, “it’s embarrassing.”

Taehyung shuffles around the corner of the coffee table as if you’re about to tell him a secret, though it’s just the two of you in his small apartment. “Just tell me, it can’t be that bad.”

“Taehyung it is that bad.” You tilt your head at him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater around your tiny fists. “You’re gonna laugh at me.”

Taehyung feigns shock at your words, his hands placed on his heart for dramatic effect. “I would never laugh, and frankly I’m offended you think that low of me.”

You roll your eyes, turning your body more towards him, deciding it wouldn't hurt letting Taehyung know the thoughts plaguing your mind. “Well, you know how Hoseok and I have been kind of flirty lately, right?” He nods in understanding.

“I can tell he wants more than that, you know? His touches are small but I know exactly what he’s suggesting, and don’t get me wrong, the feeling is completely mutual because trust me I want that too. Really bad.”

Taehyung hums, interrupting your soon-to-be graphic rambling. “I totally get it Y/N. Now let’s stop beating around the bush so I can help you.”

If Taehyung were a girl, this would be so much easier. You curse your eight-year-old self who just had to become friends with a boy because God, how do you even start?

Taehyung is a patient man, always giving you space before helping you but, in this situation, you feel it’s best to just rip the band-aid off. Taehyung if you can read my mind, please don’t laugh at me.

“I’venevergivensomeoneablowjob.”

You speak so suddenly, Taehyung’s not so sure he heard you correctly. “Huh?”

“Goddammit Tae”, you rub and your temples and avoid his stare. “I’ve never given someone a blowjob!”

His eyes are wide. “Oh”

You hide your face into the table while your body internally cringes. At least he didn’t laugh. “See! You do think it’s bad.”

“I’m just surprised to be honest”, he reassures, leaning back onto his palms, strong brows pulled together in thought. “Shit Y/N, have you really never sucked a dick before?”

Sure, you’ve had sex many times (most of which have been extremely disappointing) but, it seems that most of your hookups want to get straight into fucking. No foreplay, no nothing. Just unseasoned, pleasureless fucking.

A groan rumbles out of your throat, “It just never happened! They were all about that hump and dump lifestyle I guess.”

Taehyung is utterly baffled at your statement. In Taehyung’s books, It is compulsory to treat every women like a queen. Preparing and edging them the perfect amount of times to see them crumble so sensually by his very doing. To Taehyung, seeing a woman cry out his name from experiencing the most explosive, leg-shaking orgasm was always his favourite part.

This is why Taehyung is absolutely shattered for you. “So, you’re also telling me no one has ever eaten you out?” You miserably nod, “that’s actually fucking evil!”

His words do not ease you one bit as you throw your head onto the seat behind you. “The way you say it makes me feel even worse. This is the sole reason why I run away from Hoseok and make a fool out of myself.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, the air floating around carrying an awkward silence. You don’t really care and you don’t expect Taehyung to think of a solution. Plus, you’re already embarrassed enough.

You might as well leave and ask one of your girlfriends for help, maybe finish your essay while you’re at it. You sigh, shutting your laptop and stacking your books together.

However, the next sentence that flies out of Taehyung’s mouth makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“I think I’ve figured out how I can help you.”

Wiggling back into a comfortable seating position, you lean into Taehyung with interest. “And how might you help me, dear Taehyung?”

He eyes you nervously, his fingers fiddling with his chunky rings, “You trust me, right?”

You smile, “yeah, of course, you’re my best friend Tae.”

An exhale puffs out of his mouth. “Why not practice on me?”

You almost choke on your spit. You definitely did not expect him to say that. “Could you repeat that please?”

A new glint of mischief sparkles in his eye. “Why not let me teach you how to give Hoseok the blowjob of his life and in return, I’ll eat you out”

Your brain is having a meltdown.

“You’re fucking crazy”, you wail. “You actually want me to suck your dick?”

He brings his hands up in defence, “I think we should normalize giving head to your friends as practice, I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. Think about it, you get to learn and cum at the same time.”

You won’t lie to yourself, the proposal is tempting and in all honesty, Taehyung is hot as fuck. You will forever thank the Gods above for blessing you with the delicious sight that is your best friend. However, the proposition puts you in an odd spot.

Apprehensive about your thoughts, you state your unease, “I-I don’t know Taehyung, don’t you think this might ruin our friendship?” An exhale, “have you seriously thought of me that way?”

Taehyung chuckles, it’s deep and totally unexpected to your question. “Sweetheart, there are many things that go on inside my head involving you. And to answer your question, they’re not completely innocent.”

A startled gasp is ripped from your throat and your stomach flutters with a dangerous mix of nervousness, thrill and dare you say arousal.

Never in your life would you have imagined Kim Taehyung, your best friend since grade school, seeing you in such an inviting way. To make matters worse, It was intimidating to think about his fair share of experience and the long line of women backing up the fact that Taehyung was indeed some sort of sex demon.

Of course, you felt the same way. How could you not! The man was practically an incarnation of a Greek God. Broad sturdy shoulders that sat atop thick muscular thighs, and how could you forget his gorgeous fingers.

You’d die before you admit it, but there have been many nights where you have found yourself thinking about what his pretty long fingers could do to you. Those nights always ended with a mess of your sheets and a wetness between your thighs. It was your dirty little secret, however, it seems Taehyung also had some of his own.

His sharp eyes storm with darkness when he speaks, “don’t lie Y/N, I know you’ve had some dirty thoughts about me up in that pretty little head of yours.”

Pink blossoms over your cheeks like wildfire because he’s so terrifyingly right. “I don’t even need to touch you sometimes, one look and you’re a goner.” You gulp. “Look at you right now.” His gaze drops down to your thighs. “All my talking making you so needy, you need to clench your thighs to keep it together.”

He smiles, though it’s not his usual boxy, boyish smile. It’s dangerous and seductive almost smirking and shit when did he get so close to you? Your breathing is erratic and you have no idea how you could be so anxious yet so amorous at the same time.

Your heart beats rapidly in your ears. “This is just for practice, right?”

Taehyung curses under his breath, “just for practice sweetheart.”

You don’t get to respond.

His lips are hesitant at first when they meet yours, yet his hands say the opposite. They start at your waist and tickle their way down to your stiff hands. Ever so gently, he pries them open, intertwining his long fingers with yours, and God, did his hands feel so right.

Your nerves dissipate slowly but surely as you allow him to explore your mouth with his skilful tongue.

Much to Taehyung’s dismay, he finds you releasing your fingers from his own. Your hands flying to the nape of his neck, ultimately bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. Taehyung moans in delight when you tug at his long curls, you bite his lip in reply while lust paints your vision and dampens your panties.

Taehyung never knew he would miss the feeling of your lips against his when he painfully pushes himself away to situate himself comfortably on the couch. It was time for the lesson to begin.

You pout at the distance, trying to wiggle close until he motions for you to get into a particular position. Your insides swell with eagerness.

His voice is sweet and his hands are delicate when he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Get down on your knees for me sweetheart.” You obey immediately. He smirks at your sinking form. “Good girl.”

You swear right then and there your pussy had gained a working heartbeat at his words. The unfamiliar pulse thumping as if it were trying to break loose from the constraints of your sweatpants.

Your eyes are big and expectant, slowly drinking up the sight of Taehyung’s delicious figure seated above you. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, legs spread to accompany your kneeling figure, and dominating stare pinning you down. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh-what do I do now?” You utter, making it known to Taehyung that he is in charge. He is in control.

Taehyung cocks his head to the side, using a decorated pointer finger to hither your hands towards him. Hesitantly, you raise both hands, lightly placing them down on his thighs.

A click of his tongue makes its way to your ears and you know you’ve already made your first mistake. Taehyung’s brows furrow, it’s obvious you need to make the next move but your brain is fuzzy and flustered.

He sighs at your confused silence, bringing your small hands onto his belt. Oh, you know what you’re supposed to do now.

“I thought you were smarter than this, how else are you meant to get my dick out, hmm?” The blush across your cheeks has definitely spread profusely from his teasing. Its once peachy pink tone deepening into an embarrassing cherry red.

The buckle of his belt jingles under your fingertips as you nervously undo them. You’re apparently too slow for his liking, Taehyung finishing the job by pulling his belt off his pants, leaving you to stare down at the large bulge covered by the fabric of his tight jeans. You thought you had your nerves under control but the way your hands start to shake is an indication that this is real. You’re really about to suck your best friend off.

Ever the observant friend, Taehyung is quick to notice the slight shake in your fingers. “Wait, stop.”

You do as he says, quickly settling your palms back on the thickness of his covered thighs. “Are you sure you want to do this? your hands are shaking sweetheart.” His voice is laced with concern, a total switch to his previous words.

Clearing your throat you reply, “oh, no, no I’m fine.” You lock eyes. “I just want to make sure I’m doing good so I can be good for him.”

Possessiveness flares within Taehyung’s chest and he has no idea why. Although he doesn’t let it show, he can’t help the swell of his ego at the knowledge that he’s the first to get you like this. Not Hoseok. Him.

So, he grins his wide boxy grin, dragging a finger down your warm cheek. “Don’t worry darling, you’re in great hands”

The commanding smirk etched onto his lips sparks a surge of confidence through your veins, begging you to finally touch him.

With a tug of your small hands, Taehyung’s constricting jeans are pried off the taut muscle of his thighs and are left to pool around his ankles. The excitement of finally being able to suck dick coursing through your body like lighting, and just like his jeans, Taehyung’s boxers are off in a second.

His cock springs, tall, hard and proud. Your jaw drops, Taehyung chuckles at your reaction. You feel an ooze of wetness pooling in your panties.

His size is nothing you’ve seen before, thick and girthy with an impressive length to match. You wince at the thought of fitting him down your throat.

The cold metal of his rings against your hands brings your attention to Taehyung’s handsome face. Without breaking any eye contact, he wordlessly wraps your hands around the thickness of his cock.

It’s warm and swells in your palm, your two dainty hands stacked on top of each other. Fingers trying so hard to wrap themselves around the sheer girth of his cock.

You’re not dumb, you know what comes next. With a sharp inhale you begin to stroke up his length, paying close attention to his facial expression to get an idea of how well you’re doing

Taehyung’s head tilts to get a better view at your hands, “grip it tighter for me… yeah fuck that’s it.”

His praise boasts you on, holding tighter onto his cock and gathering the slick of his pre-cum with a twist of your wrist. Your eyes remain focused on the way the skin moves with your hands and the way his tip glistens with arousal. You want to lick it.

“When you’re ready you can put your mouth- Ahh shit Y/N!”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence when you’re already so eager to have him in your mouth. You do what you think would feel best, sucking on the head of his cock like a sweet ice lolly on a hot summer's day. Your tongue tracing the thick circumference before dipping into his slit.

A light groan falls from his mouth as he watches you lap at the remaining pre-cum that glistens in the afternoon light. Taehyung almost forgets why he’s here, lost in your plump lips wet with saliva.

Right, he’s here to teach you how to give a blowjob. “Try and take my whole length in darling.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, your mouth opening wider to take him in as far as you can. You try to keep your throat relaxed taking him inch by inch.

“That's a good girl”, he praises, “you’re doing so well for me.”

Your knees squeeze together, acting to relieve some pressure on your aching heat. It had truly been a while since you got some serious action.

Surprisingly you’re able to make your way to the hilt of his cock, a choked gag sputtering from your lips.

A few strands of hair fall in your face, blocking your eyes in the process. Swiftly, Taehyung brushes the hair from your eyes while simultaneously lifting your head off of his cock.

You release him with a satisfying pop, your eyes wide and makeup a little smudged. Taehyung coaches you through the next steps. “I want you to try and do that again, but when you come back up, lick the length of my cock and look at me while you do it.”

Humming in acknowledgment you grip the base of his cock before pausing. “Isn’t this what you like though? What if Hoseok likes to be touched in a different way?”

An unintentional growl bubbles out of his mouth. Oh how he wished he could take your mind off Hoseok and have you screaming his name, thinking about him instead.

He pushes down his discontentment with the other man on your mind, “men are simple creatures Y/N, just making out sometimes can get them going. And judging by the way you’re sucking my cock right now, I’m sure Hoseok will be crazy for you.”

As Taehyung explains the ins and outs of a man’s brain, you don’t make an effort to stop the teasing of his cock. His words sound slurred, they go in one ear and out the other, and besides the delicious length in front of you is much more fascinating.

For the time being you stare up at him, your eyes wide feigning interest in his words, all while you grip his cock in one hand and continuously lap at his tip with a kitten-like flick of your tongue.

Taehyung finally realises that you’ve stopped listening when he feels the small yet downright sensual pleasure shooting through his cock. He grunts, pushing your hair back once again, “fuck, that’s hot. You’re so fucking good.”

His preoccupied hand squeezes the pillows beside him, the veins of his hands popping out. You do what he taught you, seductive eyes laser focused on him while your wicked tongue leaves a hot trail up the prominent vein on his dick.

“Shit Y/N you’re doing so well-”

You release him from your mouth disrupting his sentence, “can you fuck my throat?”

Taehyung swears his whole body just convulsed at your request. He looks away just so he can contain himself because holy shit.

Obviously Taehyung has thought about you being in this position, saying those words. Yet, no matter how many times he fantasizes this scenario, nothing would ever prepare him for those words to actually come out of your mouth with the most bewitching grin plastered on your pretty face.

He stutters, “I- no, I don’t know if you can take it darling.”

You grip his thighs, pout forming on those dangerous lips of yours, “please Tae, I want it. Want you to use me.”

Taehyung pushes the curls of his bangs away, a hiss steaming from his lips. “Alright, but if you feel any discomfort pinch my thigh, okay sweetheart?”

You’re impatient, “yeah, yeah, I can take your monster dick.” You place a small kiss on his thigh, “do your worst.”

His movements are all too fast, all too sudden. His fingers securing a death-grip on the mess of your hair before holding his cock up to your mouth. “You asked for it darling.”

Your mouth automatically widens, welcoming the rough intrusion of his cock as it slides all the way down your throat. A lewd gag fills the room.

A dark cloud of lust of dominance fogs Taehyung’s vision, his biceps flexing when he brings your head up and down his thick velvety length.

The room resounds with the filthy wet noises of your saliva covered lips pumping repeatedly. Taehyung breathes heavily through his nose, tilting his head against the cushions behind him. He keeps his hips still, yanking your hair at an obscene pace. A slew of curses and moans fly out into the air as he revels at the complete state of ecstasy you’ve put him under.

The heat of his member burns the back of your throat but you fucking love it. You open your teary eyes, gazing at his chiseled jaw and the way he shivers and groans above you. It only spurs you on when he glances back down, meeting your mascara ruined eyes.

It’s like a knee-jerk reaction. Taehyung harshly pushes your head all the way to the base of his cock. Your face is met with his abdomen, the hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose.

He leaves you there, and the burn in your throat rises, leaving you gagging, your throat tightening around him.

Taehyung believes after this he could never get the image of your messy docile eyes and tarnished lips out of his brain. He feels your throat constrict, “sh-shit, fuck Y/N, breathe through your nose.” You inhale. “That’s my good girl.”

He releases you from his member only to push your lips back onto him, going back to his beastly pace. “You look so fucking pathetic, you think Hoseok wants a messy girl like you?”

You gurgle around him, tears freely falling down your cheeks as you try to shake your head no. He only mumbles out a groan, his cock abruptly pulsing under your tongue like a steady heartbeat.

It's all too sudden when he releases your head off his length, a glob of drool dripping down your chin and onto your shirt.

“Fuck sorry I was about to cum.”

Although your heart swells with pride you wonder, “why didn’t you?”

He runs a hand through his messy locks, “the purpose of this was to teach you, don’t you still want to practice?”

You’re smug with your answer, “I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

He swipes a finger under your tear stained eyes, “getting cocky now are we.”

You were cocky indeed, “well I did get you shaking under my touch didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes, “get up you brat, I’m gonna show you what you’ve been missing out on.”

Fucking finally.

You won’t lie, you were probably most excited to finally know what it feels like to receive head. Your mind is still fuzzy from Taehyung’s rough ministrations as you slowly get up. You wobble slightly and Taehyung is quick to stabilize you with two strong arms holding the curve of your hips in place.

With his arms already around you he pushes you towards the couch, kicking his jeans off in the process.

Back flat against his plush couch you’re already stripping off your sweatpants and panties together in one. “My, my aren’t you eager”, he teases, a glint of shamelessness twinkling in his brown orbs when he drinks up the plushness of your thighs leading to your dripping cunt.

Holding your knees in the palm on his hands, he spreads them open to reveal the glossy folds on your heat. He kisses his teeth, satisfaction and hunger clear on his face. “Fuck, isn’t this a pretty sight.”

His words bring back a blush on your cheeks, you pull him forward, your lips inches away from his own. “Shut up please.”

And he shuts you up real good. Smashing your lips to his, he envelopes you into a feverish kiss, your tongues dancing the devil's tango.

His hands are adventurous, feeling the mounds of your breasts over your shirt. “Why the fuck isn’t your shirt off yet huh?” He tuts, pulling on the cotton fabric.

“I want yours off too.” You cutely mumble tugging at the hem of his shirt, to which he complies, tugging it off in one fluid motion.

You peel your baggy shirt off just in time to see Taehyung's arm flex as he takes his very own shirt off. “Have you been working out? My God Tae, you're as big as Joon.”

He inwardly smirks because yeah he’s been working out and it's clearly paying off. He doesn’t want to show his glee however, “can we not talk about other men when I’m about to eat you out.”

You chuckle, eyes trailing down his buff arms to his v-line that leads to his dick like an arrow directing you to his treasure. You bite your lip, unclipping your lace bralette, “sure, sure, let’s get the show on the road.”

It’s Taehyung turn to drink up the sight of your body. “Fuck, always imagined what these tits looked like under all those tight clothes you wear.”

He’s really feeding into your praise kink. “Well, were they what you expected?”

He sucks on one immediately and you arch your back at the unexpected pleasure. “Even better”, he squeezes them in his palms, “they’re fucking gorgeous.”

He sucks a deep hickey under your left breast, leaving you whimpering with a hand tangled in his hair. “Always imagined what you sounded like moaning for me.”

You can’t reply, his touches burning through your skin. He kisses down your sternum to your stomach until he’s hovering above your aching clit, a tantalising grin on his face before he’s diving in.

“Fuck!” You wail at the unfamiliar yet mesmerising feelings. His tongue is stiff and pointed, flicking quickly up and down your bundle of nerves.

The grip you have on his hair is deathly but it's the only thing in your reach that can ground you. He licks a long stripe down your sopping slit, keeping his sharp eyes on you the whole time.

“F-feels so fucking good Tae!” You almost scream. He cups his lips around your swollen nub sucking on it with a shit-eating grin on his face.

You’re too dazed to comment on it, reeling in the new pleasures you’re experiencing. You stare down at him, your eyes half opened and so close to rolling to the back of your head.

However, they almost completely open wide at the sight presented before you. With two long fingers, Taehyung is shoving them in his mouth, soaking them with his spit before rubbing them onto your sensitive folds.

You beg. “Put them inside.. Please.” Taehyung doesn’t make a sound only kissing your clit as he plunges his ring decorated fingers into you.

You’re so wet his fingers slide into you with ease. He groans at the sensation, his view focused on the way your cunt greedily sucks him in.

“Look at you, getting my rings all dirty you filthy girl”, he scolds watching the way your essence drips into the crevices of his intricate jewellery.

Taehyung increases the pace of his long fingers, finger fucking you into euphoria. He doesn’t stop there, his lips returning to your desperate clit in a wet mess of your juices and his saliva.

You can feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach. It's hot and feels so unlike any other upcoming orgasm you’ve experienced. His fingers curl inside of you, his palm slapping your folds with his rapid pace and his lips don’t give any sign of stopping.

“Taehyung- Tae, I’m cumming!” You really scream this time, your orgasm taking control over your body like a demon.

You swear your eyes black out, your body shaking, a warmth gushing out of your cunt as it spazzes out.

Your chest heaves and you blink, feeling a damp pool around you. Oh God, Did you piss yourself?

“Holy fuck Y/N, I can’t believe you just did that.”

You sit up, embarrassed, an apology falling from your lips.

“You just squirted on me.”

You’re flushed, “I- what?”

Taehyung almost looks akin to a wolf hunting down his prey. “That was the hottest fucking experience of my life, holy shit I’m so hard.”

Well at least you didn’t pee on his couch. There’s a surge of overwhelming need for his cock to be inside of you. You’ve never felt this way before, it’s scary but so is this whole experience. It’s definitely one for the books.

Getting up on your knees you hold onto his shoulders, Taehyung raises a brow. “Fuck, I need to ride you, can I ride you?”

You think you just saw his dick twitch at your words. He grins, “just for practice?”

Your smile is sickly sweet, “of course, just for practice.”

His arms are strong when he shuffles into a seated position all while holding your hips above his awaiting cock.

He pauses, a flash of his normal self resurfacing. “You’re on the pill yeah?”

You peck his lips, “yes, now stuff me full.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s sinking you down onto his length.

You both let out moans of pleasure at the feeling of being complete. The stretch hurts so bad but hurts so good. He fills you up so well it has you speechless, the air trapped inside your lungs refusing to be released until your walls are comfortable around his impressive girth.

Mumbling a soft curse, you swivel your hips in slow circles, getting used to his large size. Taehyung watches you, hunger written on his face as he licks his lips and examines the way you fit so perfectly on his lap.

You test the waters, holding onto his shoulders for support. You lift your hips and settle back onto his lap. He groans at the wet squelch it makes and slaps your ass, grabbing it in his hand to squeeze it.

You pick up the speed, pumping up and down, whimpering at how well he fills you up. You keep your gaze trained on the image of his dick disappearing in your heat and pulling out with a wet sheen.

Taehyung tucks a finger under your chin, bringing you close to his face to push his soft lips onto yours once again.

It’s weird to say, but you don’t think you can get tired of kissing your best friend. He knows exactly what you want and knows exactly how to make your head spin.

With his large hands of yours, you pick up the pace, slamming your ass onto his hips. You leave his lips, kissing the side of jaw and suckling a few lovebites behind his ear.

His voice is deep and sultry, “fuck yeah, that’s it.” You wail in his hold, pushing yourself to meet his thrusts below. Your thighs burn but the pleasure burns so much hotter.

You feel your second orgasm of the night rising within you and can tell Taehyung is close too. Taehyung assists you, using his thighs to push up into you. Your juices drip down onto his pelvis and both of your breaths get heavier.

His thrusts are fast and rough, creating loud slapping noises that echo around his empty apartment. He grunts, folding his head into the crook of your neck. He’s about to cum and so are you.

With one final gasp your release hits you like a truck. Your thigh shakes in his lap and Taehyung bites at the delicate skin of your neck. His warm seed shoots inside of you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips.

Taehyung releases his hold to lean back onto the couch. He keeps his softening cock inside of you, lazily staring at your fucked out expression.

You play with his rings, “well, how did I do?”

The shit-eating grin is back. “Hmmm, I think you may need more practice.”

#ficswithluv #bangtaninn #bangtanuniversity #bangtansorciere #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #bts #bts x reader #taehyung fanfic #jimin #jungkook #seokjin #hoseok #namjoon #yoongi #h0neypjm #mine

2K notes · View notes

routledgescherries · 2 years

Text

peace | p.p.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: major nwh spoilers!!, symptoms of depression, slight angst, me wanting someone (peter) to give me a charm bracelet, taylor swift references

summary: peter reunites with you and tries to get you to remember him after all that happens

Life after Dr. Strange’s spell was rough for Peter, to say the least. Although he still fortunately had his birth certificate and driver's license, it was hard to find a job or a place to live when you had no credit and no G.E.D. So he resorted to being a freelance photographer at the Daily Bugle to pay the bills, staging pictures of him as Spider-Man, and getting the only clear pictures of Spider-Man to be found for any paper. Peter was also living in a crappy small apartment in the bad part of town with the little money he made. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Peter also had to deal with the fact that he literally had no one in his life. It was difficult for him to adapt to being alone, he often found himself turning to tell a stupid joke to you, point out a good person in crisis for MJ to draw, or even a take out place for May to try, and find himself completely alone.

Peter was used to his constant sadness that came with the loneliness by now too. The first couple nights he cried himself to sleep, all of the grief and guilt about his aunt and the loneliness being too hard to deal with. All of the late nights alone with his thoughts made his mind go to dark places. Thinking about how he was always alone in his life. People kept leaving him; his parents, Ben, Tony, May, his friends, you. Was Peter just meant to be alone? Did he deserve to be alone?

Peter shook his head, snapping out of his train of thought. It was probably best not to go down that road again. He rubbed his eyes, closing his G.E.D. prep book. This was depressing. His life was depressing. Peter needed to do something. He needed some fresh air.

He put his jacket on, making sure to have his web shooter in his pocket just in case. This neighborhood was so sketchy. And mindlessly, Peter walked out of his building, not even realizing where his feet were leading him until he found himself right outside the coffee shop that his friends regularly hung out at. Holy Grounds. You all would spend countless hours doing homework and joking around there until MJ had to close the store.

It was where you and Peter had your first date when you were awkward seventh graders being supervised by his Aunt May and Uncle Ben in the back corner. It was where you two had your first kiss. It was where Peter first met Ned in freshman year after he accidentally spilled coffee on Ned. It was where Harry decided to throw an impromptu New Year’s party that ended in Peter reluctantly kissing Harry at midnight when Harry complained he had no one to kiss. It was where the six of you first hung out all together besides school for the first time.

It was the home of so many of Peter’s memories.

As he looked through the windows, Peter saw your group sitting at the counter. MJ was leaning on the counter, probably complaining about the customers while Gwen was listening and also likely coming up with new songs for her band “The Mary Janes” in the back of her mind. Harry was sipping something out of one of the cafe mugs, while Ned was watching and laughing when Harry spit it back out almost immediately.

And you. You, Peter noticed you were sitting on the end closest to the door next to Harry, quietly, fidgeting with your rings and a bracelet, an anxious habit you had. As he looked closer, Peter noticed that it was the charm bracelet he got you for your birthday, that had charms of your favorite things and memories you had made since you’ve been friends.

Peter couldn’t help but wonder if Peter Parker wasn’t totally forgotten in your mind.

That thought quickly dissipated as he watched you. He couldn’t describe the look on your face. You looked something between sad and confused as you twisted it between your fingers, not paying attention to your friends around you.

Peter hadn’t planned to see his friends and give them his speech until two more weeks, just enough time that he would be settled into his new life, and so he would have enough time to craft his speech to make him not sound like a lunatic. But seeing you like that made Peter rashly decide to go in and introduce himself.

He might not be able to make you remember him, but he could be your friend again.

He walked into the store, hands in his pockets, messing with the notecards that contained his speech. Peter kept them in his jacket just in case something caused his plan to change. But the text he had memorized was ignored as you looked at Peter as he walked into Holy Grounds, looking like you recognized him but couldn’t quite figure out from where. You narrowed your eyes, but shook your head and took a drink of your latte.

Doubt treaded Peter’s mind. Would this even work? A few simple sentences was supposed to be enough to counteract a spell made by one of the multiverse’s most powerful wizards?

He took a deep breath, like May taught him to do when his thoughts got overwhelming. Okay, even if he couldn’t get you to remember him, he could at least try to rebuild what you once had. You were best friends and then a couple for years, if it could happen once it could happen again. You could make new memories and have a new love.

Yeah, Peter thought. Either of those could work.

Peter took a leap of faith and stepped closer to you. “Hi, I’m Peter Parker.”

You smiled at him, nose scrunching slightly. “Hi Peter Parker,” you said. “They don’t put your names on the cups here.” You paused, stifling a laugh. “And I don’t work here.”

“Oh I know,” Peter said. “Actually, I didn’t know they didn’t put names on the cups, but I did know you didn’t work here, which now that I think about it sounds kind of creepy because you don’t know me, but that’s not the point, or even why I introduced myself.” Peter took a deep breath and started talking at a more normal speed. “Sorry, I ramble sometimes.”

You smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologize for talking. What were you gonna say?”

Peter couldn’t help but smile too. God, he missed you so much. “I was saying that, uh, I introduced myself to you because I wanted you to know my name.”

Peter heard MJ snort and whisper something to Gwen, who practically cackled. Peter could only assume it was some sort of insult. You hit MJ slightly with your hand across the counter, giving her a ‘knock it off’ look. It was almost like old times.

You turned back over to Peter, smile back on your face. “Ignore her, she's mean to everyone.”

“It’s okay. Anyways I was wondering if I could maybe talk to you?” At that, Peter noticed all of his friends looking towards the two of you. He stiffened up at all the eyes.

You bit your lip, fiddling with the bracelet again. “Um, I think my friends might kill me, or you, if I leave now.” Peter sighed, but at the sight of his fallen face, you quickly followed up with, “But I should be free at 4, if that works?”

Peter nodded, vigorously, grin back on his face. “Yeah, that’s good, yeah. Meet you here?”

You nodded. “Sounds good. See you then.” Peter nodded too as you both kept eye contact.

Harry leaned his head on your shoulder, also looking at Peter. He waved slightly at him. “Bye Peter Parker.”

Peter chuckled slightly. “Bye,” he said, feeling hopeful for the first time in a while as he walked out.

As Peter walked out of the cafe, you heard your friends snickering at him. “He was so dorky,” MJ chuckled. “‘I’m Peter Parker.’ What was that?”

“Knock it off you guys,” you said, in a firm tone. “He was sweet, and trying. Besides, there's something,” you paused, messing with the web charm on your bracelet, trying to find the right word, “familiar about him.”

“Maybe that’s why he wanted to talk to you,” Gwen suggested. “He would’ve had to know you if he came in here, just talked to you, and didn’t order coffee in a coffee shop.”

“Or he’s just a perv who wants to take advantage of you,” Harry said casually, shrugging his shoulders.

“Aw, bub,” you smiled, putting your arm around him. “Thank you for looking out for me Har, but I think if he was actually a perv, he wouldn’t have made plans to meet me at a public place, in front of my friends.”

“Perv or not,” Ned remarked, putting his hands up, “Y/N’s right. That dude looks really familiar.”

“I think so too,” Gwen said. “Maybe he goes to Midtown. Or maybe he went to your middle school and wanted to catch up?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think that’s it.” You sighed. “I don’t know. It’s just, recently I’ve felt like there’s something missing in me, you know? Like I have trouble remembering things, and I feel like there’s a hole in my chest, like I’m grieving but I don’t know why. But when he came in and started talking, that hole and that feeling went away. I felt more whole than I have in weeks, for whatever reason.” You stopped, feeling the pitiful glances of your friends. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just being crazy.”

“You’re not crazy,” MJ said, her voice as soft as you’ve ever heard it. She put her hand on your shoulder. “Lately we’ve all kind of had that problem, even though you more than most.” She gestured to the rest of your friends and they nodded too, their faces filled with sympathy. “I know my memory’s been fuzzy and confusing ever since that weird incident with Spider-Man and the Statue of Liberty.” She snorted. “Who knows, maybe that Peter Parker is Spider-Man and made a magician erase him from our memory to protect the world from collapsing in on itself?” Everyone laughed, a little somberly.

“Thanks M, you guys,” you said. “However unlikely that scenario is, I just feel like if I talk to Peter, maybe things will make some sense again.”

“We’re here for you,” Harry nudged. “And if it turns out that he is a perv, just call me and say the word ‘pineapple’.” He whispered the word, as if Peter was still outside, and could hear him.

You grinned, and gave Harry a side hug. “Will do Harry.”

You loved your friends, you really did, and they were really supportive through whatever had happened and whatever was wrong with you, but you couldn’t help but wonder if Peter Parker could help solve your problems.

Exactly at four, you walked up to Peter, who was already at the coffee shop. He was dressed in a blue sweater over a plaid flannel with some nice jeans. You were wearing Peter’s old Midtown sweatshirt, and he knew it was his and not yours because it was much bigger than yours, going down practically to your knees. It made him smile, just like old times.

“Hi,” he said, waving slightly, before cringing at the awkwardness of it.

“Hi,” you replied. “Do you wanna walk around? Or go somewhere?”

“Do you wanna walk down Cornelia Street?” Peter asked. He knew you loved the Taylor Swift song, and ever since you saw the street in real life, you always wanted to live there. You always walked down there together when it was warm enough, making unrealistic plans for the future. “They have really--”

“Awesome and beautiful apartments that would make a great place to live,” you finished, the words coming out of your mouth before you could even process them.

“Yeah,” Peter said, breathlessly. He wanted to jump up and down at the fact there was still some trace of him within your memory after all. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

You walked side by side next to Peter in silence for a few minutes as you walked the route to Cornelia Street. “I like your bracelet,” Peter said. “All of the charms are really cool.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking the lightsaber charm in your left hand. “I really like it.”

“Where’d you get?” He asked, hoping to partially jog your memory. “It looks custom.”

You bit your lip and avoided eye contact. “Um, I’m actually not sure.”

“Oh,” Peter replied, trying to hide his disappointment. “Well it’s still cool.”

“Yeah, I think the charms each have a meaning, but my memory’s been really weird lately and I can’t remember what they are,” you said.

Peter knew exactly what the meanings were. A lightsaber for the first movie you ever watched together when you were eight being “A New Hope”. A camera for how Peter always loved to take photo shoots of you ever since he got his first camera. A boombox for how you both loved to watch cheesy 90s rom-coms together. A trident for your Greek mythology-Percy Jackson phase in sixth grade.

Peter could go on. He spent hours looking through jewelry stores trying to find specific ones to fit your memories together, starting with a small web charm (for Spider-Man, obviously), and buying another couple each holiday. You told him it was probably the best and most thoughtful gift you had ever gotten.

He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shout the meanings and the memories he had gotten those charms for, making it the thing that made you remember everything, and then kiss you to make up for all the lost time. But instead Peter simply replied, “My memory’s been weird too.”

You turned your head to face him as you kept walking. “Really? I thought I was crazy, I feel like it’s only me and my friends who’ve felt like it.”

He shook his head. “No, yeah, I’ve been having gaps ever since that weird thing with the crack in the sky and the Statue of Liberty.”

“Me too!” You exclaimed. “And the strangest things keep happening to me, like, I feel urges to send a text to someone, and make sure they’re okay, but I have no idea who. Or I want to open my window to let someone in, even though my apartment is on the fourth floor, and no one could make it up there since we don’t have a fire escape. I even find clothes in my closet that I know aren’t mine, but I don’t know whose they are.” You turned to Peter, who was nodding his head, genuinely interested. “And sometimes I feel this physical pain in my chest, this overflow of emotions I don’t understand, like I’m supposed to be grieving something or someone, but I don’t know who. Like I’m missing something important inside of me.” You paused, worried that Peter would run at this strangeness. “Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” Peter said softly. “It does.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath before you continued. “And I know this probably sounds crazy, cause I know we only met a few hours ago, but you look so familiar to me. In a way that I can’t even describe. It’s like I’ve known you forever. And you make that pain in my chest and my head want to disappear. It doesn’t make any sense.”

What you were telling him astounded Peter. He didn’t imagine in a million years that this would’ve happened. His absence was actually causing you physical pain. It was like your mind wanted to continue your life as if Peter was still in it, even though you didn’t know who he was. Peter felt he owed it to you to tell you the truth after all he heard. And even if he hadn’t crafted the perfect ‘not sound insane’ speech, Peter thought you could believe him.

Right as you finished, you turned the corner onto Cornelia Street. The sun was setting, and the orange-pink skies over the luxurious apartments made it look breathtaking.

In a rush of adrenaline, Peter intertwined your fingers together, and led you over to a bench and sat down, you next to him.

He took a deep breath. “Do you remember that flash in the sky that happened a couple weeks ago, near the Statue of Liberty?” You nodded, eyes squinted a little in confusion. “That was a spell that a wizard named Dr. Strange cast that ripped a hole in the multiverse, well technically the second one fixed the hole in the multiverse, the first one made the hole.”

You blinked a couple of times, trying to make sure you heard him right. “What?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true,” Peter insisted, grabbing your hands. “The second spell he cast made everyone forget me. Because it was the only way to fix everything. You were there. You cried and begged me not to do it. You said you didn’t want to forget.”

You looked at the ground, mouth slightly agape. “Why didn’t I want to forget you? We don’t know each other,” your voice sounded reluctantly incredulous, like you didn’t want to believe him. “What would I have to forget?”

Peter moved his head lower, so you would look at him. “Me. Us. Before all of this crazy stuff happened we were in love, and before that we were best friends since we were kids.” You looked up Peter, unreadable expression.

“Really?” You whispered, slight pain in your voice. “You’re really telling the truth?”

“Yeah,” Peter replied. “I promise I am.”

“You’re Peter Parker,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “And the spell made me forget you?”

“Yeah,” he said again softly. “That pain in your chest, the gaps in your memory, the part of you that you feel is missing?” You nodded at his pause. “That’s me.”

“I believe you,” you said. “As crazy as it sounds, despite the fact that I probably shouldn't, I believe you.” Peter smiled, laughing a little.

“Do you think if you kissed me, all of my memories come back in a rush montage like in the movies with amnesiacs?” You asked, rubbing the back of your neck.

Peter shrugged. “I think it’s worth a shot.”

Peter took your face in his hand and you both looked into each other's eyes for a few seconds, sharing a moment of silent healing for both of you. You leaned in, and he pulled you in, feeling the infamous ‘spark’ as your lips connected. You stayed that way for a second, and when you pulled away to breath, you searched your memory, trying to remember anything, any memory of Peter.

Nothing.

“Did it work?” He asked eagerly. “Do you remember?”

“No.” You shook your head sadly, but a second after you did, you grabbed Peter’s wrist, and pulled a bracelet from underneath his sleeve before you even realized what you were doing. It was a red and blue beaded bracelet, like the kind of plastic ones you gave out to all your friends as a kid. Still acting on instinct, you pressed the blue bead right before the knot that held it together.

A red projection of the Spider-Man mask appeared before the both of you on the bench. Peter had worn the bracelet ever since you gave it to him in fifth grade, and added the projection to it after he found no actual use to it in his Stark suit, but still wanted to keep it nonetheless. You always liked to mess with the bracelet and put up the projection when you were bored.

You both gasped, looking at each other in awe.

“How did you know how to do that?”

You shrugged, adrenaline rushing through your veins. “Muscle memory, I think.”

“Maybe if we kiss again, you’ll remember something else?” Peter suggested. “Like one kiss equals one memory?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but pulled him in and kissed him once again, feeling nothing but pure bliss.

When you pulled away, you picked up your wrist to look at your charm bracelet on instinct. “You gave me this,” you said, eyes wide. “You gave me this for my birthday.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded enthusiastically. “I did.”

“And-and this charm,” you picked up the black dahlia charm. “You got it because you tried to buy me a necklace with one in Venice but it broke because you were fighting the dude with the fishbowl head, so you got the charm instead!”

“That’s exactly what happened!” Peter exclaimed.

“Oh my god, I remember what all of these mean,” you said, taking a bunch of them in your hand. “The Empire State Building is for both me being obsessed with it in second grade and you swung me up there the first time you took me swinging. The-The fridge is for that time at three AM when we wanted to dance, but your living room needed new light bulbs, so we just kept the refrigerator door open as a light and played ‘Home’ by Bruno Major on a loop.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes,” Peter repeated, unable to believe this was happening. Unable to believe that you remembered. “We almost melted all of May’s coffee ice cream and she was so mad.”

“But not as mad as that one time when we were kids and decided it would be a good idea to give each other Sharpie tattoos,” you said, breathless as the words rushed out of your mouth. “I still have part of the Black Widow hourglass on my ankle.” You laughed, pulling your legging up to show him. “That’s what that was!”

“Yeah,” Peter said, pulling up his right sleeve. “And I still have the face of the Iron Man mask!”

You gasped again, getting up quickly and confirming your suspicions. Your initials and Peter’s initials were carved in a heart on the back of the wood(ish) bench. “We carved our initials into this bench. So when we have money and can afford to rent a place on this street we could just sit here and talk.”

“Exactly,” Peter said faintly. “Exactly.” You knocked your foreheads together, both just enjoying being together.

“I don’t remember everything,” you murmured. “Some things, but not all of them.”

“That’s okay, I’m just glad you remember anything,” he replied. “I can tell you about things you don’t remember and we can make new memories too.”

“That sounds good.” You shifted, leaning your head on Peter’s shoulder. “Can you tell me some now?”

“Sure,” Peter said, putting his head half on top of yours. “On Valentine’s day, sophomore year, the first Valentine’s day after we started dating, I put chocolates in your locker, and got you the earbuds charm for your bracelet--”

“Because we liked to share earbuds and make each other playlists,” you finished.

Peter smiled. “Yeah. And you waited until after school to give me your present. We decided to eat at Delmar’s in fancy clothes, to seem like adults, and after we were finished eating, you pulled out this gallon sized bag full of candy hearts, and they were personalized with funny messages and pick up lines, like ‘are you copper and tellurium? because you’re CuTe’ and ‘you must be the force because Yoda only one for me’” Peter chuckled. “You also got me a new sweater, but the fact that you took the time to write like fifty different pick up lines for me really warmed my heart and made it my favorite gift.”

You giggled. “That definitely sounds like something I would do. You deserve to have a billion pick up lines.”

You sat there for a moment, enjoying the peaceful noise of New York, enjoying the comfort of having each other there for them.

“Peter?” You asked, not moving from the position you were in.

“Yeah?”

You bit your lip, deciding to tell him what you were thinking. “Do you think we’ll be able to give each other the peace we’re looking for?”

Peter turned his head towards you at that. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “I know that we’ve found each other somehow, despite a freaking memory erasing spell, and that’s amazing, and I love that, and I’m pretty sure I love you, but,” you sighed. “We’re both kind of looking for a peace within the other that might not be satisfiable.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s just that you’re looking for me so you can have a piece of your old life back, and I was looking to fill in my memory and problems, a peace of sorts, you know? I know it sounds stupid and that I’m overthinking this, but what if we can’t give each other that thing we’re looking for? What if we try to seek that feeling instead of love?” Your voice cracked as you finished. “What if I can’t give you peace?”

“Hey,” Peter said delicately, putting his hands on your shoulders. “I don’t want peace. I realized a long time ago that my life was never gonna be peaceful. I was looking for you because I love you. Not because I wanted peace. All I want is you, and the love we have. You matter so much to me, and I’m not losing you again. Especially over something as stupid as peace.” He put your foreheads together again. “I love you.”

Silent tears ran down your face as you smiled. How could you have forgotten this person you loved so much? A person who made you feel so happy and so loved. “I love you too.”

“We might not be able to give each other peace,” Peter said. “But I know that we can make each other pretty damn happy.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #spider-man #peter parker #spider-man fan fiction #spider-man x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #tom!peter x reader #tom!peter parker #peter 1 x reader #mcu!peter x reader

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cafeacademia · 2 years

Text

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢 & 𝙳𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚏

♡ - 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 | ◇ - 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 | ♤ - 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 ♡ | You visit the museum during your time off from the BAU, only to bump into your coworker, Spencer whom you only speak to professionally. But, perhaps the chance meeting is enough to change that completely and bring something new to your relationship.

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡◇ | Spencer always walks his best friend home whenever he can, especially knowing that she has anxiety and is afraid of going home alone at night. On their way home they get separated but Spencer is right there to protect her.

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐬 ♡◇ | When you don’t show up to the office several days running, the team gets worried. Spencer comes to check on you using the spare key you gave him for emergencies, only to find that your apartment tells a very soft and sweet story behind that business suit of yours. And maybe he falls for you even more than he already has.

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 ♡ | When Spencer’s favourite cafe closes, he finds a new place to visit for his morning coffee ritual only he stumbles across a cafe that is home to another regular who just so happens to like playing chess. And just maybe he makes a move, on the board and the pretty girl that plays chess.

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ♡◇♤ | After a catastophic breakup that leaves you without anywhere to go, Spencer takes you in as his roommate. As time goes on however, Spencer finds out just how neglected your needs were by your ex and tension quickly builds between the two of you.

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 ♡◇ | After you were kidnapped and hurt during a case, you stick exclusively to Spencer. You feel the safest with him. He doesn’t understand why, especially with Morgan and Hotch around, surely you would feel much safer with them. And maybe it just so happens to bring some feelings forwards that both of you had been suppressing all this time…

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 ♡ | When the Quantico office expands their library and introduces a new librarian, Spencer is immediately taken with her. But when she gets perhaps a little too curious about Spencer and is reading tastes, she turns to Penelope for help finding his goodreads…

𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ♡ | You have always had some hidden feelings for Spencer, he’s handsome, smart and a lot taller than you. But Spencer has caught onto your feelings, even if you won’t even look at him properly and he’s tired of waiting to ask you out. He plans to impress you with the things he knows you love most (other than him), books and stuffies.

𝐁𝐚𝐫 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ♡ | You head out to the bar after work, only to bump into Derek Morgan and his BAU coworkers. He tries to chat you up and get a date and as much as you like Derek (and think he’s hot), he’s not that professor looking nerd he came in with reading a psychology book in the middle of the bar on a Friday night…

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲 ♡ | When you can’t settle, Spencer reads to you until you fall asleep

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐭𝐡 ♡♤ | You plan to admit your feelings to Spencer one autumnal afternoon, and maybe it leads to something else you had been craving too…

𝐒𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐔𝐩 ♡♤ | While at Rossi's for a dinner party, Spencer has a bit too much to drink and accidentally spills the details about your secret relationship...

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction

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kimistorm · 3 years

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Tomato Face [Nathaniel x f! Reader]

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Nathaniel x F!reader

Warnings: None

AN: Experimental epistolary writing!

Dear Diary.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg is the prettiest boy I have ever met, and nobody can convince me otherwise. Not even Adrien Agreste. He is also an insanely talented artist. Even if he doesn’t believe he is. And...he just happens to be the one person in the entire school who stole my heart. He is just, so wonderful to be around. He’s so sweet and kind. Okay, so I’m crushing on him. So what? It’s not like he likes me. He never could. Could he? No, stop, stop getting your hopes up. Why would he like me? I’m just, normal. I don’t run a famous blog about Ladybug like Alya. I’m not loved by everyone in the school like Marinette. I’m not sweet and adorable like Mylène. I’m not rich like Chloe. Okay, maybe not the best comparison. I wouldn’t want to be like Chloe. I’m not an artist like Alix. Yeah, those two would get together. Both of them are artists. They’d do art together. Me? Well, I just like to vegetate and binge watch Netflix and YouTube. Maybe I could become a superhero! Like Ladybug and Chat Noir! Maybe then I’d have something interesting in my life. I’d be able to practically fly around Paris saving people. People would love me! I’d be a hero! But then...what if I didn’t have the time to watch all of Jacksepticeye’s videos? That’d be so bad! Miss Bustier told us to read Le Petite Prince and to compare that to the movie. Ugh. I don’t want to do this. It’s a book for children! Well, I’m going to binge My Hero Academia.

(y/n)

To: This notebook that is definitely not my diary,

(y/n) is really nice. Pretty. Wonderful. Kind. Lovely. What is a crush? Is it normal to get butterflies in your stomach whenever you walk by a person? Why is my face always red whenever I’m near (y/n)? Why is it that I want her to notice me, but at the same time, I don’t want her to notice me because what if she sees me doing something weird and concludes that I am weird? Is it weird that I want to draw her? But what if she notices me staring at her? That’d be so awkward. It’s not like when I draw Ladybug. I don’t have to stare at Ladybug to draw her. I can just look at a picture, but with (y/n)...what if I took a picture of her? Then used that as reference? No, that’s even weirder. Then I just have a random picture of her on my phone. What if she sees? She’d definitely think I was a weirdo. Maybe Alix would know the answer to all of these questions. She’s a girl. No, that’s a bad idea. I don’t think Alix has a crush on anybody. She wouldn’t know. Why is human interaction so hard? It’s not like a drawing where you can plan out what happens and if you make a mistake you can erase it and it’s gone. Is this a crush? Is this what they call loving someone? But who wouldn’t like (y/n)? She’s got a beautiful smile. She’s very pretty. She’s very nice and kind to everyone. She’s almost like an angel. Oh….

Nathaniel

To: This notebook that is definitely not my diary,

Mayday! Mayday! I told Alix about my feelings for (y/n), I don’t know why I did it. It just happened. We were talking and it just-AH! Good news, Alix didn’t laugh at me. Bad new, Alix called me “whipped.” She said that I’m totally head over heels for her and that I should tell her how I feel, but how am I supposed to do that? I’m nowhere near (y/n) in the day. It’s always been from afar. Watching. Oh no that sounds like I’m a stalker! She definitely thinks I’m a weirdo now! She’s some ethereal being, no way I could approach her. Maybe I could talk to one of her friends. Yeah, that would work. But, if I’m near one of her friends, what if I accidentally spill how much I’m in love with (y/n) and they tell her and then she thinks I’m a weirdo! Maybe I’ll get Alix to talk to her. But then, what if she thinks I’m a jerk because I don’t even talk to her? What if she thinks that I think that I’m too good for her? No way, she’s way out of my league. There’s no way she could like someone like me.

Nathaniel

Dear Diary,

What if I cosplayed Bakugou? Maybe then I would get off of my butt and do something. Nathaniel has been acting weird lately. Not that I’m stalking him or anything. He’s just been avoiding me, and I’m pretty sure he’s consciously doing that. Since we passed each other in the hall today and when I said hi, he turned around and walked the other direction without saying anything. Did I do something wrong? It hurts. Here I am, harboring this insane crush on him, and he’s ignoring my presence. I need to get over him. There’s no way he could like someone like me.

(y/n)

TO: THIS NOTEBOOK THAT IS DEFINITELY NOT MY DIARY,

THIS IS BAD THIS IS BAD THIS IS REALLY REALLY BAD. FOR SOME REASON, AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHY, NINO GOT ME COFFEE THIS MORNING. BUT I DON’T DRINK COFFEE. AND SO THIS ENTIRE DAY I’VE BEEN AMPED UP. I COULDN’T EVEN DRAW ANYTHING I WAS SHAKING SO MUCH. IF THIS IS WHAT CAFFEINE DOES TO ME I DON’T NEED IT. THEN, AT THE END OF THE DAY, I SOMEHOW HAD THE COURAGE TO GO TALK TO (Y/N). FACE TO FACE. WHO IS THIS PERSON? I DON’T DO THAT. WAS THIS COFFEE SPIKED WITH ADRENALINE OR SOMETHING? BUT THAT DIDN’T HAPPEN! I WAS WALKING OVER TO HER, AND CHLOE SUDDENLY APPEARS OUT OF NOWHERE AND I TRIPPED. I DON’T KNOW WHAT I TRIPPED OVER BUT THE NEXT THING I KNOW MY LIPS ARE SMASHED AGAINST CHLOE’S LIPS AND (Y/N) SAW! WAIT, NOT JUST (Y/N). EVERYONE. EVERYONE. EVERYONE. EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE SCHOOL SAW! IT WAS ON THE FRONT STEPS! OF COURSE EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE SCHOOL SAW! AND YOU KNOW WHAT I DID? I RAN. OBVIOUSLY I RAN! I NEEDED TO GET OUT OF THAT SITUATION! IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING! I DON’T EVEN LIKE CHLOE! WHAT DO I DO?

NATHANIEL

Dear Diary,

Well. Today was just peachy. I saw Nathaniel on the front steps of the school practically eating Chloe’s face, and, well, my heart shattered. I didn’t think Nathaniel was that bold. Tomorrow everyone’s going to know how the two of them are dating. I knew I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

(y/n)

“H-hey, (y/n).” You looked up to see Nathaniel awkwardly approaching you.

You tried to brace your heart, “h-hi.”

“So, you uh, I’m sure you did, you saw the uh, thing that happened on the, uh, front steps yesterday.”

“Yeah.” You answered carefully. The boy in front of you was avoiding your gaze, and it made you wary.

“That was all, uh, a mistake. Yeah, a mistake. I don’t like Chloe. At all. It was, I, I don’t even know. One moment I was, I was, trying to talk to, to you, and then she was there, and then I tripped, and then I was kissing her.” He stammered, “not that I wanted to!” he then shouted in a panicked fashion. “It was an accident.”

“Why are you telling me?” you asked carefully. Your heart was starting to rise in anticipation, but you shook your head. You weren’t going to get your hopes up again.

“BecauseIwantedtoaskyoutogoonadatewithme.” He mumbled under his breath.

“W-what?” did he just say what you thought he said.

“I was on the front steps of the building that day becauseIwantedtoaskyoutogoonadatewithme!” he shouted.

“I…what?” you still couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.

He took a deep breath and asked the floor, “do you want to go on a date?”

Your heart soared, “that thing with Chloe, it was all just an accident?” you asked shyly.

“Yeah.” He murmured, and your heart pieced itself back together.

“H-hey, Nathaniel.”

“Hm?” he asked and looked up from the floor to you.

“I’d love to go on a date with you,” you replied happily and leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips that left the two of you blushing redder than Nathaniel’s hair.

“Ugh!” a voice shouted from the end of the hall and the two of you whipped around to see Chloe standing angrily. “I can’t believe you two still got together! Even after yesterday!”

“Way to ruin the moment.” Nathaniel muttered.

“Come on, let’s go.” You took his hand and the two of you walked away from Chloe.

To: This notebook that is definitely not my diary,

She loves me! She’s not mad at me. She doesn’t think I’m weird. We’re going to go on a date together. Nothing could get me down. Cloud 9. I think that’s what it’s called. I’m on Cloud 9.

Nathaniel.

Dear Diary,

Today was fantastic. Yesterday was all just a misunderstanding. It was just Chloe being Chloe. But he likes me. He actually likes me! We’re going to go on a date together! Today is a wonderful day.

(y/n)

“Do I look good?” Nathaniel asked worriedly as he looked at Adrien and Nino. Alix was busy at a skating competition, but she sent him best of luck.

“‘Course you do!” Nino smiled.

“Maybe I should change jackets.” Nathaniel worriedly looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing his normal purple pants, a white button-up, and his normal gray jacket. “It’s too normal.”

“If you were wearing something fancier, it’d look like you were going to prom.” Nino blurted out, but Adrien elbowed him, “I mean! You look great already!”

“There’s no need to get too fancied up,” Adrien smiled, “now come on, if you don’t get going, you might be late to pick her up.”

“Oh no!” Nathaniel panicked.

“Hey, don’t panic,” Adrien told him soothingly, “look, you’ve got your phone, you’ve got your wallet, you’re good to go. You’ll make it with time to spare.”

Nathaniel took a deep breath, “thanks guys.”

“No problem. Now go!” Nino shooed Nathaniel.

#mlb #kimi's writing #miraculous ladybug imagine #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug fluff #miraculous ladybug fanfic #nathaniel #nathaniel mlb x reader #nathaniel kurtzberg #nathaniel kurtzberg x reader #nathaniel x reader #nathaniel kurtzberg fluff #nathaniel kurtzberg angst #miraculous ladybug angst

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free-pancakes · 3 years

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Dreams and Nightmares

Summary: Canon-Divergence fic

Hange barely survives the final fight against Eren, and is saved by inheriting the Beast Titan from Zeke Yeager in the end. However, the Scouts soon find that this would come with a heavy price--particularly at Levi's expense.

Chapter 2/? Chapter 1 crossposted to ao3 here: link

Notes: Didn't expect this quick of a turn around for the next chapter, but i couldnt sleep last night, so i finished it! hope you all like it <3

CHAPTER 2

Night fell, moonlight peeking through the open window and a dim lantern lit up the small room. Jean walked holding two cups and a pot of freshly brewed tea. He stared at Hange sitting up in bed, who was pretending to read the book in her hands. However, this didn't fool him--clearly something else was on her mind. Jean had never seen Hange like this and it distracted him, so much so that he accidentally missed the cup and poured some of the piping hot tea onto his hand.

He inhaled sharply, shaking out his hand from the burn, his eyes bulging in pain. For whatever reason, a distant memory of Sasha came to mind, laughing at him when he spilled hot coffee onto his hand once before—he whipped his head back to face Hange, hoping she’d react the same way. But to his disappointment, she continued to stare down, her brows still furrowed in a tired frown.

He walked over to her, replacing the book with a cup of tea and sat on the bed next to her. They sat for awhile, sipping tea without a word.

The silence made Jean uneasy—it was not the Hange he knew. And earlier... well that was something he never expected to do. Hange had always been a shoulder to cry on, for so many years. To him or any of the 104th…Hange was someone who never broke, at least in their eyes. And the events of this morning simply shook him and Armin to their core.

All of them had been worried sick, starting when Hange oddly burned up with a fever immediately after the battle, remaining unconscious ever since. And now that she finally woke up, she immediately returned with a genuine fear of Levi? He didn’t know what was wrong, and he wanted nothing but to help Hange. But he could think of nothing else but let her cry. He couldn’t think of a way to cheer her up like she used to do for him and everyone else.

It took her hours to calm down since she woke up that morning.

“Jean.”

He turned to Hange, happy to hear her voice finally, although weak and raspy after being out for a whole week.

“Can you... tell me what happened? The last thing I remembered was... falling...”

Jean calmly told her everything, and most importantly, explained that Levi saved her by having her inherit the Beast Titan from Zeke. Luckily from the events of the battle, the titan curse was no longer in effect in that now, all the remaining titan shifters would be able live a full life. However, they would would live the rest of their lives still having the ability to use the power of their titan, and they would each be the final wielder.

“I see...”

Hange felt dizzy, her head reeling with thoughts and hypotheses. Jean’s story seemed to fall in line with what she had been thinking over the past couple hours, though.

And that made her heart drop.

The dream she had while she was out, was not dream at all, but real memories from Zeke Yaeger. It all lined up--this had to be what had happened right before she found Levi half-dead in the grass that horrible day.

“It seems… that Zeke’s memories have entangled themselves into my own.”

Jean’s jaw dropped slightly, and locked eyes with Hange. She quickly looked away with shame. Jean took her hand—“Hange-san, it’s not your fault.”

“But it is, Jean!” she yelled, angry. Her memories of the battle bled in and out of her head, patchy flashes of Levi carrying her, risking his life when she was pretty much a goner. And now here she was, thanking him with a literal slap at the wrist, nothing but deep and utter hurt in his eyes as she cowered in fear of him. It was her fault that she wasn’t strong enough to separate Zeke’s memories from her own.

“Every time I’ve tried to think of Levi as I’ve sat here, his expression is replaced by one filled with hatred, and all I feel is the pain Zeke endured. I felt... blood dripping from my wounds, and... Levi holding up a blade to my face, his eyes cold and unrecognizable...”

Jean stared at Hange, wide-eyed. The thought of Levi hurting Hange was absolutely preposterous to him.

“You all had woken me up in the middle of a memory—I was, Zeke. I think. Levi didn’t recognize me, and dug his blade deep into the wounds I already had, and... I had this urge to hurt him. And I... I—“

Hange buried her face into her hands, guilt eating her alive—she had wanted to kill him in that moment. Obviously, this had to be what Zeke was feeling before he sent the wagon into a fiery explosion, but it felt so real. It was too real, and she almost felt like she couldn’t separate Zeke’s emotions from her own. She felt like those feelings were becoming one and the same. She couldn’t remember if she even tried to fight it in the dream. If she couldn’t fight for Levi in a dream, how could she trust herself not to hurt him now?

She explained all of this to Jean, and soon felt herself fall into panic, hyperventilating, overwhelmed at all of this. It was all beginning to feel like one, horrible nightmare. Once Jean helped her calm down, he begged her to rest. She wanted to keep gnawing at her memories, trying to separate them from Zeke’s, but exhaustion quickly fell over her. Sleep tugged at her eyelids, and before she drifted off, she quietly asked Jean not to tell Levi about anything she had said. She didn’t want Levi to feel any more upset than how she made him feel this morning.

Jean breathed out, his heart wrecked seeing the person he looked up to the most crumbling before his eyes. The only comfort he had now was seeing her face relaxed as she drifted off to sleep, her chest rising and falling evenly. All he knew was that he had to talk to Armin about this, maybe even Annie and Reiner—he thought titan shifters would be the best people to ask for help in this case, it’s not like he had any advice for something like this. But not telling Levi? That man knew when he was lying from a mile away.

Jean quietly closed the door behind him. He sighed, and turned, almost yelping out in surprised. Levi stood right in front of him, and he almost smacked right into him.

“Oh Levi, umm, Hange-san is asleep.” He stared at the reddened skin glowing under Levi’s eyes. Had he been... crying? Jean hesitated, but figured it’d be safe for Levi to go in now. He knew he wouldn’t wake Hange anyway. He stepped aside, pushing the door open for him.

“Thanks, Jean,” Levi said softly, without turning around.

“O-of course, Captain,” Jean responded before hurrying off to find Armin, avoiding any opportunity for Levi to ask him if Hange told him anything about what happened.

Levi stepped in, staring at Hange lying in the bed just as she had all week, watching her chest rise and fall rhythmically. He wanted to be happy, but all he could feel was anger as he replayed Armin’s voice in his head for the hundredth time.

“Captain, there may be a chance... well, it’s quite common to have realistic dreams when you inherit a titan--essentially reliving memories of previous shifters. And considering you didn’t have the best relationship with the previous Beast Titan...”

Levi grit his teeth—he thought he had defeated Zeke once and for all, that once he fulfilled his promise to Erwin, he could finally move on. He never imagined that it could get any worse, but it just did.

Even in death, Zeke was trying to steal the last good thing that tethered him to this earth. How could he fight someone who was no longer living? He crouched down at the foot of Hange’s bed, and buried his head in his knees. What did it matter to be considered “humanity’s strongest” if he couldn’t save any of his friends in the end?

He felt darkness swirl around him like a storm cloud. He’d say he was utterly hopeless, but he had one thing to keep him going—Hange was alive.

If she couldn’t handle him being with her while she was awake… then so be it. It was painful to think about, but he loved her enough to do just that, if it meant she could live the rest of her life happily, even without him immediately by her side. But he could only hope that this would be the absolute, last resort.

Levi stood up, his eyes softening as his gaze fell upon Hange. He walked up next to her and reached out his hand. Before he could touch her, he hesitated, flashes of the fear in her eyes permeating his mind. His hand shook, but he was soon able to steady at it as he focused on listening to Hange’s even breaths. Levi carefully placed his hand on her head, combing her soft, brown hair in between his fingers. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead before leaving the room, stealing one last glance at Hange before closing the door.

Armin thought it’d be best he’d stay away from Hange for at least a week, let her rest and sort out what it meant for her to hold the power of the Beast Titan. Levi was hesitant, but he trusted Armin.

He could do it. Only for Hange.

Just a week, he thought. And then he could see her again. He balled his hands into fists once more, and let the tears fall as he stood outside the room.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #levi x hanji #jean kirschtien #armin arlert #zeke yaeger

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 3 years

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Delete the Twitter app, Mr. Barba

In which Rafael Barba deletes the Twitter app because of the Householder case, and Carmen babysits him.

Accidental Feminist Icon

The last thing on Rafael Barba’s mind when he was in the hospital room with Maggie Householder was his online reputation. Once he’d turned himself in and been released on his own recognizance, however, he opened his phone to call mami and instead saw hundreds of Twitter notifications, emails from people whose names he didn’t recognize, and missed calls and voicemails from unfamiliar numbers. He didn’t touch Twitter, texting Carmen to ask how bad it was and she advised him to delete the application until at least after the trial. When he went home, mami was there and just as disappointed as he expected. There were tears the minute she saw him, but not any offered comfort.

“You murdered a child, mijo.”

“You don’t understand, mami. No lo viste. El no estaba realmente vivo.”

“Esa fue la decisión de Dios. No es tu decisión. Tu abuela estaría tan decepcionada de ti.”

“No estoy de acuerdo. Si estás aquí para regañarme, vete a casa.”

“Te llevo a la confesión.”

“Vete a casa, mami. Me confesaré cuando esté lista.”

“Rafa-”

“Go home.”

Lucia stormed out, and Rafael went inside his apartment and went straight for the scotch he kept aside. It wasn’t his good scotch. It was the cheap one that burned his throat and left him sicker than he ever was the next day. Before twisting off the cap, he heeded Carmen’s advice, deleting the Twitter app as he dropped to the couch and began to drink. It was only eleven, not even noon, but he didn’t want to remember what had transpired the day before. He should wade through his email, but someone had posted it. He knew because it was referenced time and time again that they’d found his personal email via some Twitter thread or Subreddit or something else he hadn’t yet encountered. He’d had to mute his phone as phone calls rolled in; the only one he answered confirmed it was strangers from the Internet who had seen the news. Carmen called it getting cancelled when it happened to other people. That usually didn’t involve the loss of a life, so the term seemed not quite right for what was happening, especially given the fact this included more than just the people he was used to. People who had never encountered him were hearing about him in the news.

He ignored Olivia’s calls, considering the morning’s interactions enough. As he drank, Rafael was able to filter unknown numbers and messages, tossing the phone aside and quickly finishing the bottle. Olivia came by, and he didn’t answer, choosing to lay back on the couch as the room spun around him. Carmen texted him, and he didn’t look. An hour later, he heard her outside of his door with Olivia and unlocking he apartment for her. He’d given her a key long ago so she could get files or suits or drop off leftovers. Both of them came in, and it suddenly dawned on him that he had his suspenders down and shirt open over his undershirt. He’d spilled the most recent tumbler over himself with the pizza he’d ordered. And now, they could see him like this, eyes rimmed red and mood unstable as he thought more than he could about himself.

“Mr. Barba,” Carmen said softly, kneeling by him. Olivia stayed closer to the door, surveying the room. By the nature of their constant proximity, Carmen had seen the tail end or starts of Rafael getting frustrated, though he always pressed it down with a glass of scotch and good meal. That said, she’d found him too drunk after a trial didn’t go his way. Seen him frustrated as he went through a case he may not be able to do anything about it. Caught him yelling at paperwork as though something would happen. She’d also seen him the next mornings when he came in pretending not to be insanely hungover and was wearing the suit from his office.

“I’m fine.”

“No you aren’t. Is this what happens between an eight o’clock bourbon and the office suit?”

“Shut up, Carmen.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry,” he said with a huff as his hand ran down his face, and Olivia had to stifle a laugh at how properly embarrassed he looked. “My email and phone are bad. How bad is Twitter?”

“Medium. A lot of people understand. Or they feel that they can’t understand, so they’ll watch the story.”

“People understand murder?” he scoffed.

“No. No one does. But we all understand how impossible your choice was. How badly the parents were hurting.”

“I was too selfish to do it for my dad.”

“I know, Mr. Barba. But people want to know how long until they hear more. Want people to wait. Can see why you did it. It’ll blow over. We can change your number and your email. Twitter has a really handy button. Block.”

“My name’s Rafael.”

“You’re my boss.”

“Not for long,” he chuckled bitterly before his gaze softened. “All I wanted was for people not to hurt.”

“You need to go to bed, Rafa.” It was Olivia now, and his eyes suddenly snapped open. It was different when it was Olivia. They were friends, but they kept things to work. Other than the occasional group event, they’d grab dinner after work. She didn’t hear him debate pocket squares or see him drunk alone in his office or help him think of replies on Twitter. He’d probably lose his friendship with Carmen once he wasn’t in the office, he supposed. She humored her boss a lot more than she probably should.

“I’m fine, Liv.” It came with more of a snort than he liked, and he was suddenly pulling himself up to sit, wrapping his shirt around himself as though it were a cardigan. Carmen watched he was steady, and Olivia was sure she now knew what she’d looked like when Noah was learning to walk on his own with her hand on his back to keep him upright. Once things passed, she wanted to ask if Rafael was always this willing to be relaxed around Carmen, but she wasn’t sure she really wanted to know.

“I don’t think I’m helping things,” Olivia said softly, and Carmen gave a gentle nod.

“My son’s with my mom for a visit. I’ll take care of him.”

“You’re sure? I can call Lucia.”

“I’m fine, lieutenant. And mami has already been here.”

“Make sure he meets with an attorney tomorrow.”

“I make his calendar. I know.”

“You two can stop talking about me like I’m not here,” he grumbled, heels pressed against his eyes. “I’m drunk, not deaf.”

“You’re belligerent, counsellor.”

“Call me Rafael,” he said again, flopping onto the couch when Olivia had left again.

“I thought Lieutenant Benson was your best friend, Rafael.”

“She is, I guess. Is that sad? My best friend used to be Alex, but I pursued that case. As if mami needed more reason to hate me.”

“You don’t act like you in front of her. Not all the way.”

“This isn’t me.”

“It’s you without a carefully constructed persona.”

“If that’s the case, I suppose you’re my best friend, Miss Frye.” She’d expected to see a bemused smirk or annoyed scowl, but Carmen was taken aback by how sincere he looked as his hand moved to rest on her forearm and squeeze as well as he could.

“My name’s Carmen,” she teased. “Now come on. You need to go to bed.”

“My suit will get wrinkled.”

“I’ll hang it for you.”

“You can sleep in the guest room. It’s not safe for you to go-” His eyes were suddenly wide. “Carmen, where’s Ollie?”

“With my mom. I told her you needed me for a couple days.”

“You don’t need to disrupt your life.”

“I’ll tell you a secret Mist- Rafael.”

“What?” he asked, flopping into bed where she’d pulled the blanket down once he managed to strip to his boxers.

“You’re my best friend too.” She tugged the blanket over him, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. He smiled up at her, and she made her way out turning off the lights. It seemed silly to say it to someone like him, but they’d worked together a long time, had a lot of late night talks. She liked him more than a lot of people she knew, and saw him more than anyone outside of her family.

Carefully, she cleaned his living room, dumping his other bottle of cheap scotch out and disposing of both before setting up the coffee to brew at seven, just in time to have him at an attorney’s office by nine. McCoy had approved her to work from wherever she needed to in order to keep Rafael functioning. She’d have been miserable helping Peter Stone with this trial anyway. They both knew about his father, and it seemed he may be a ticking time bomb. She logged into his twitter, going on a blocking spree as she explored his mentions, tweeting from her own account and his that she’d done it and retweeting it from his account.

She also liked all the kind ones. The ones asking for understanding or expressing empathy. The ones that acknowledged he had an impossible choice and neither one would have sat well with their own conscious. Leave a child and his family to suffer without end or expedite the inevitable. Then there were his direct messages. Since getting verified, he had the ability to only see messages from people he followed. As she combed through, there were a couple of hateful messages she ignored, but most who knew him expressed understanding and a couple even included leads if he wanted out of the city. She marked those down in her notes app before falling asleep in the guest bedroom.

The sound that greeted her in the morning was Rafael Barba vomiting as the coffee machine roared to life in the background. Silently, she ordered ginger tea and vitamin b12 for delivery, going to fetch the pedialyte she’d brought from home. When he came out, hair wet from a shower, she’d already brewed him tea, cooked breakfast, and given him an expectant look as she slid a glass of unnaturally purple electrolytes to him. He didn’t know what to say, so he took the proffered glas and took a long sip before wincing.

“Grape,” she said plainly.

“Grapes don’t taste like that.”

“Ollie likes it okay. I make him popsicles though.”

“He’s old enough for popsicles? Isn’t he still on milk?”

“Rafael, he’s two. He drinks milk, but he even eats.”

“Does he like books yet?”

“He does. He really likes being read to.”

“I’ll read to him next time I see him.” He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was thick. “Do you play him music?”

“Some. Usually my playlists.”

“Play him Bach.”

“You’ll have to tell me what’s best to play him.”

“I’ll send you a playlist.”

“Why Bach?” She watched as his jaw shifted from side to side, lips pressed together, and that told her all she needed to know. “Drew liked Bach?”

“He’d never know if he liked Bach. Maggie was playing one of his cantatas.”

“Maybe we can take him to an orchestra one day.”

“There are some shows. Kid friendly.”

“He’d like that.”

“I’ll send it to you.”

“You’ll come, won’t you?”

“Me?”

“It’s your idea.”

“You’d still let me around your son?”

“My son is a healthy vibrant boy. If he was in the same situation as Drew, it would be hard, but I’d still want you there. You did exactly what I would have done for him, okay?”

“Did you mean what you said last night?”

“Which part?”

“The last part.”

“You probably are my best friend. And that hasn’t changed. I wish you didn’t have to be put in the situation, but I would hope I’d have been strong enough to do the same. And other people agree with me.”

“God, you’re not actually looking at Twitter.”

“I looked at Twitter. I blocked anyone vitriolic. But, I collected all the kind ones in your favorites for when you’re ready. A lot of your attorney friends have job leads for you if you leave the DA’s office.”

“I’m leaving. And I’m probably going to fucking prison. You’ll be down a friend in a few months.”

“Stop it.”

“They’ll end me in there, Carmen. I sent some of them there.” She wasn’t sure what to make at how at peace with the prospect he was.

“And you won’t go to prison. Don’t focus on that. Even if you do, they’ll have to do something to protect you. And I’ll come visit you.”

“You barely know me.”

“We spend more time together than I do with anyone else. I know you’re good, you have a good heart, you send birthday presents to every SVU detective’s kid and think I don’t know you send them coffee gift cards on their birthdays. You’re a total mama’s boy and despite what a snarky prick you are, you have imposter syndrome out the ass. You’re lapsed enough Catholic not to go to church, but you pray when things are really bad. I also know some part of your brain feels like you’ve let down people who think you do good work by this one thing, but one bad doesn’t outweigh an exorbitant amount of good. I hope Ollie has half of the ethical backbone you do. I know there have been occasions in the past you weren’t perfect, but the man I’ve known deserves every ounce of credit he gets. That doesn’t mean you’ve never made a mistake.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, and much to his chagrin, Carmen wrapped him in a hug that he returned, refusing to look at her. He was suddenly aware he’d cry if he looked at what he knew was a genuine smile. “I’ve got to get dressed to see an attorney.”

“Who are you going with?”

“Randy Dworkin.”

“He’ll be good.”

“I hate to admit that. And I’m sure I’ll hate every second with him.”

“How about you teach me about Bach this afternoon?”

“You have work.”

“McCoy approved me to be remote.”

“So you’re my sitter?” She could almost swear a smile pulled at the corner of his lip, and she felt pride she didn’t expect.

“I suppose. So Bach?”

“Bring Ollie?”

“Deal.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #law and order #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #Rafael Barba x Carmen

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red-cape-morgana · 3 years

Text

FIAT LUX

Everyone sees the girl of steel as an almighty, indestructible being. But before being a hero, she is a person, and this implies some quirks. Some fears as well.

Chapter 2

(Chp 1) // (ao3)

Of course Lena knows about Kara's love of phosphorescent things, and especially about those sneakers.

She can actually see the shoes' faint glow in her entry every single evening, when Kara gets back home. And if now it has become a comforting sight, something she looks for when she wakes up and Kara was on patrol the previous night, it has not always been that way.

The first time she had seen that greenish glow... she had thought of kryptonite.

She had been quietly reading perched on her couch, when Kara had finally gotten back home from a grueling long workday. The blonde had an agar look on her face, leaving her bag and kicking her shoes off. Lena had heard her mumbling something about breaking pencils, spilled coffee and needing a shower, before heading to Lena’s luxurious bathroom.

Lena had decided to let her girlfriend unwind for a while before asking about that apparently rough day. Now that she knew about Kara's alter ego, she understood her girlfriend's clumsiness on a whole new level and knew that a simple task could require a lot of focus from her. Consequently, the number of incidents grew up accordingly as the hours of the day passed, and many phones had been the innocent victims to the super's strength.

Lena was getting lost in her historical novel once again, when she had noticed a faint light in her entry.

Odd, she had thought. Lights are turned off. What’s there?

She had closed her book before getting up to check on that. On her way, she had grabbed her phone, just as a precaution. After so many assassination attempts, she had learnt that communication means where really what mattered (as well as an efficient punch in the nose from time to time).

A couple of meters away in the entry, she could distinguish a faint greenish light coming from the messenger bag that Kara had abandoned there.

A bomb.

She started to run toward the bathroom. She needed to warn Kara! The kryptonite would suppress her powers, she had to flee! She speed dialed Alex to ask for an intervention squad while barging in the bathroom.

"Lena?! What's going on? Why are…?" Kara stammered when Lena had opened the shower cabin.

"You have to go!" Lena had said in a hurry while dragging the soaping blonde out of the shower.

"To go? But, why? Lena, what's…"

"There's a bomb Kara!" Lena shouted at her, in a near panic

She needs to go, she thought to herself. If it's kryptonite, she is even more at risk then me. The residual radiations would deepen any potential injury and worsen her state. And considering the rate of cellular degradation from direct exposure, even the DEO may not be fast enough.

"Lena, you, hide while I take it away." Kara stated while fumbling to activate her suit.

"You don't understand. It's kryptonite. You can't risk getting anywhere near it!"

"What?" Kara exclaimed. "But, I thought you had installed a biometric security system after last time?"

"I did!" Lena answered while trying to shove the unmovable kryptonian toward their bedroom, where she could escape through the window.

"But there is that greenish glow in the entry, and I know how to recognize kryptonite Kara. Believe me if…"

Kara had held up a hand to stop her mid sentence.

"You said in the entry?" she had calmly inquired.

"Yes! Why do you care where it is? It's still a bomb Kara." Lena said, her voice filled with exasperation.

And Kara had laughed. She had laughed till tears streamed down her face, mixing with water and shampoo left from her half finished shower. She had laughed even harder when Lena started to scream at her to go while she had time.

The brunette started to fear it may be something else than kryptonite, and that it was messing up Kara's mind because who laughs at the prospect of a toxic bomb in their apartment for God's sake?!

Kara didn't stop before hearing her talking to Alex, asking for help in their apartment. That got her attention, and she took the phone out of Lena's hand before uttering between giggles

"No it's fine Alex. Lena… Lena thought my shoes were some kryptonite trap. Can you, can you believe that?!"

Lena felt as if she could hear the groan Alex surely made to accompany her “I’m tired of my sister” expression.

Well I guess 13 years of that kind of shenanigan does that to someone, Lena mused. She had only known Kara for 3 years, and yet she was sure she had her own special kind frown as well.

Kara ended the call, promising they would explain more clearly tomorrow, before proceeding to explain that what she had thought to be a kryptonian bomb was only the new sneakers she had bought that were phosphorescent.

“They are the best glow in the dark shoes one can buy Lena! I had to get them, you understand?” she said as if her point was obvious, bouncing on her feet like a kid who had just been promised a trip to the candy store after school.

Lena had debated throwing the shoes out the window, just for the scare they had given her, and also because she wanted to erase Kara’s smirk.

Now the blonde keeps referring to that moment to tease Lena, a reminder that the genius she is got fooled by glow in the dark material. But coming from the Luthor family, can you blame her for thinking of an assassination attempt first?

And if that incident wasn't enough, the hour-long rant Alex gave her about Kara's love for glowing things would have clued her on it.

The next day, Lena had dropped by the DEO, willing to apologize for the false alert of the previous day. She knew Kara had said they would all gather at the end of the day for a drink, but Lena felt the need to see Alex first thing in the morning. Those apologies also included freshly brewed coffee from the best roaster in town, and enough pastries to satisfy a small army. The redhead vented to her for an hour straight, using memories from their shared childhood in Midvale to illustrate her explanation. As well as justify her exasperation with her sister’s eccentricities.

Lena took the opportunity to learn what her girlfriend was like when she got on Earth, Kara oddly quiet about this period of her life. She also thought it was the safest move possible in her situation, to let Alex get it out of her system. No one wanna get on the bad side of their possible future sister in law, and even less when they work for a secret agency that has a knack for making people disappear.

What she learns though, makes her see some of her girlfriend's habits under a new light.

Lena knew it must have been incredibly jarring to not only start a new life on a foreign planet, but learning that she had been lost in space for decades, and that Kal-El didn’t need her anymore must have been devastating. It was her mission after all, the reason why her parents had sent her away. Knowing that now, she didn’t have any purpose anymore… And it goes without saying that the enhanced senses she suddenly gained thanks to the yellow sun, would be enough to drive anyone crazy on their own. Heart beats, motors, reading through a book, crushing your mug of hot chocolate accidentally,... And all that during teenage years. Earth must have looked like hell at first. No wonder why Kara is unusually quiet whenever this topic arises. But Lena sensed there may be something else lying there, and since she wouldn't pry at Kara's traumatic memories, Alex was the next best best source for informations.

So far, she only thought Kara was that kind of forgetful/lazy person that never really complete a task. When the blonde would leave the curtains in their bedroom slightly open, or their door ajar, or her phone on the bedside table and always displaying time. Lena simply thought that Kara didn’t mind any of it. And since it wasn't bothering herself much, she let her do.

For Lena it was just Kara's little quirks. Just like her love for phosphorescent things.

Though, now that she thinks of it, she can remember an incident that happened when Kara had first moved in with her.

So far, in their relationship, the blonde had rarely slept over at Lena's place. Either because Lena was actually the one sleeping over, or Supergirl was needed for an emergency mission, or when Lena was travelling the country for scientific and technological conventions and checking up on branches of L-Corp. They had decided to move in together to make things easier for both of them. There was no point in sneaking around like lovesick teenagers, and Kara had already claimed two drawers at Lena's (who was very keen on borrowing oversized sweaters from said drawers when her girlfriend couldn't be around).

The move in itself was as smooth as possible: Kara stacked her boxed belongings in the van, Alex drove it to Lena's place, Kelly had looked for the best itinerary during this busy week day, and Lena had prepared snacks for everyone once they'd arrive. All in all, it had been the matter of a day.

Alex and Kelly had stayed over for dinner at Lena's demand, and Kara had just dug out what she would need for the next day.

"It will all be unboxed tomorrow Lena. What would be the point in putting it all back in the boxes now?" Kara had said, when Lena pointed out she couldn't see the color of her couch anymore with all the stuff the hero had thrown on it.

At some point, Nia and Brainy had joined them, bringing a couple of bottles to celebrate "an event I didn't think I would get to see before having grey hair, considering the pace you were going!" Nia had said.

The evening had continued full of laughers, memories of moments the couple had been completely oblivious to one another, and potstickers of course.

When everyone had left it was finally time to go to bed, the super had become strangely agitated. Lena had brushed it off as all the emotions of the day and finally living with her.

It will all settle once we lay down and get some rest, she had thought.

She had been proven wrong. Kara had spent the night turning and tossing, unable to find sleep. Lena had tried to soothe her by pressing her front to her back, gently holding the blonde in her arms. But when Lena had woken up some hours later, Kara wasn't in bed anymore.

"Darling?" Lena gently called as she padded in the living room, barefoot and eyes still full of sleep.

Kara was on the couch, huddled against an arm rest and looking at her laptop without really seeing it.

Lena closed the distance between them before sitting next to her girlfriend. Sensing that she wasn't in the right headspace to explain what was going on, she simply decided to just lean against Kara, anchoring her in the present. Together.

After some time, the sun had started to rise.

Lena had slipped in a state between sleep and alert, still here but not fully conscious of how long they had stood there together. At some point Kara had closed her laptop, setting it aside on the coffee table, and she had pulled Lena on top of her, holding her close. The weight and warmth of her girlfriend must have calmed her nerves somewhat because Lena felt the stiff muscles finally relax under herself.

Lena was about to suggest they move to the kitchen to have a well deserved breakfast when Kara had softly said "It was so dark, you know. I just… it brought up some memories. I'm sorry."

Lena hadn't prayed any further. Kara had every right to keep some things secret, and she knew she would learn about it eventually, when the hero would be ready to face this.

After that, Kara had always left a small source of light in their bedroom. At the end of the first month living together, she even bought some star stickers that she put on their ceiling as well as on some furniture. Lena had raised an eyebrow at that, but Kara had brushed it off, saying something about how it remembered her of her apartment and that she thought it comforting to share this with Lena.

Showing the Luthor a part of the Super that very few select people had ever witnessed.

But now, after her talk with Alex, Lena knows that it comes from a different place.

From what Alex told her, on earth Kara had never liked total obscurity. Elyza and Jeremiah had tried to help her of course. They offered the teenage girl therapy, sophrology and many alternatives to help her conquer her fear. But nothing had worked.

Every night Kara would wake up drenched in cold sweat, her breath coming up in short pants, convinced she was back in the phantom zone. Those nights, Alex would begrudgingly get up and walk to this new sister she didn't ask for bed, and lay down with her. She would take Kara in her arms, because that was the only thing that would ground her in the present.

Until one night, when Alex slept over to a friend.

#this took me so long to write I am sorry #I've never used the word phosphorescent so much and now it's suggested by my keyboard everytime a word atarts with p- 😂#I hope you like my rambling!#supercorp #supergirl #lena luthor #kara danvers #supercorp fanfic #red cape writing #well here i am this rambling has now officially become a fic #supercorp sunday

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checkurwindow · 3 years

Text

i’m so scared

Book: Open Heart

Warnings: It’s a lot longer than my usual fic and much angstier, but hope you enjoy it!

Rating: Teen for light swearing.

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC

Word count: 5200+ I KNOW!! It’s the single longest piece of writing I’ve ever written.

Author’s note: I’m actually really proud of this fic so please reblog and let me know what you thought of it! Here’s my masterlist for more content! I wrote a sequel to this fic too!

One

That’s how old she was when her father left. Her mother knew that he was never going to stay, but that didn’t stop her from breaking down every night for 3 months when she thought her beloved daughter had fallen asleep, when instead she lay awake, wondering what could have happened to make her mother hide her sadness every day, only letting her walls come down when she thought nobody was watching.

She didn’t understand much beyond that, just knowing that her dear old dad had left for a pack of cigarettes and milk, but left behind only a stack of legal papers on the counter while her mother had gone off to work, desperate to give her little girl the best life she could.

Two

The number of people in her family. She and her mom, her mom and her. It was just the two of them, or at least that’s what her mother told her every time she asked. She was fine with that, she loved her mother with all her little heart. She didn’t need anybody else.

Her mom had found a job in Providence, a job that could support both of them, and an apartment that had a reasonable rent. She was scared at first, moving to a “big city”, but her mom assured her that it was a kingdom, and she was the princess.

Three

That was the number of bracelets she had gotten for her fifth birthday. She and her mom had been walking downtown, running some errands, when they walked past a jewelry store and saw the set of three bracelets in the store window.

She had asked her mom if she could have them, even resorting to using her best puppy dog eyes in an attempt to persuade her.

Her mom had told her that they were too expensive, and they didn’t have enough money to buy them. She was disappointed, sulking the rest of the way home.

3 weeks later, her mom returned to the jewelry store, spending almost a month's worth of her salary to buy that special set of bracelets for her daughter. She was beyond excited when she woke up on her birthday and saw that bright pink box next to her bed.

She started showing off those prized possessions of hers to all her friends at school. One was gold with a diamond charm, the other was silver with a ruby charm. The last was bronze with a deep sapphire charm. The bronze one was her favourite, even after Derek Reagan said it was ugly. She told Derek that he was ugly.

Four

That was the grade she was in when she met him.

It was a usual Monday, she was rushing through some unfinished homework when Mr Kingston, her teacher entered, accompanied by a boy who looked just a little taller than her.

Turns out it was a new student, transferring from another school that had just closed down. He was wearing a blue button-down, a big difference from the rest of the boys in her class whose t-shirts were either dinosaurs, or cars, or superheroes. He introduced himself as Ethan Jonah Ramsey while the rest of the class stared blankly at him, before returning to their own friends. Mr Kingston assigned him to the seat next to her.

“Hi, Eefen Jonah!” She waved excitedly at him as he sat down next to her.

“My name is Ethan, Jonah is my middle name,” he corrected.

She made a small ‘o’ with her mouth, thinking for a short while before responding, “I prefer Eef,” she smiled, making him blush slightly.

She took a container out of her bag, opening it to reveal large apple slices. She took one in each hand, careful not to let them slip as she turned back towards him, offering the slice in her left hand.

He slowly took one and smiled, “thanks,” he said when he noticed the set of sparkly jewelry on her wrist, “I like your bracelets.”

Five

That’s how many people were in her friend group by middle school.

First, there was Jackie Varma. She thought Jackie was a little mean when she first met her, she always picked fights with everyone. But she soon learned that she was only mean to people she didn’t like, and she even called Derek stupid when he was mean to her. She asked Jackie if she wanted to have lunch with her after that.

Next was Sienna Trinh. She was nice to everyone, and her first friend at school. She always shared her food, usually sweet treats, with everyone in class, even when Jackie was convinced they were poisonous, she never stopped radiating her positivity.

Bryce Lahela was a flirt. And rightfully so, as every girl in her class had a crush on him. Every girl except her. Bryce was convinced he knew the reason why, and voiced his opinion every chance he got, “She doesn’t have a crush on me because she’s in love with Ramsey, that’s the only reason.”

She would always blush when he said that, which was often seeing how he and Jackie bickered daily about it. Yes, she and Ethan had been best friends since fourth grade. Yet that was all they were. Best friends, never venturing out of that sacred zone.

And then there was Ramsey himself. He had gotten tall, very tall. He was easily the tallest of the group, while she was one of the shortest, barely taller than Sienna. He was a bit gangly and awkward, sometimes very quiet as well, but he was her best friend.

Six

That was the day of the month Ethan was born.

He was turning fifteen, and begged his dad for money instead of his usual books. His dad thought it was strange, as reading had quickly become one of his favorite pastimes, but waved it off as typical teenager behaviour.

A couple days before, she had lost her treasured bracelets. She had taken them off during art class, careful not to spill paint and ruined her favourite set of jewelry. She had rushed off after class because she wanted to get the cafeteria pizza while it was still fresh and hot for all her friends, and accidentally left the bracelets behind. When she came back to get them after lunch, however, they were gone. She cried for the first time in what felt like forever.

Ethan’s dad had done what he had asked of him, giving him cash for his birthday. Upon receiving his present, he rushed up to his room and took his box of savings out from the top of his closet, almost falling off the chair he was climbing to get them.

He hurriedly counted up all his money, adding to the amount he had been saving, ecstatic when he realised he had a little more than what he needed. He quickly ran out, wallet in hand, barely able to tell his dad that he was going out as he sprinted out the front door.

He finally made it to the jewelry store that, after much research, he knew carried the same set of bracelets as the ones his best friend had lost. The attendant asked what a young man like himself was doing buying such an expensive set of jewelry, teasing about if using all his hard-earned cash by doing extra chores was really worth it for a girl.

He smiled widely, heart racing from the sprint over, but nodded rapidly, forking over the money he had planned to use to buy a new set of books. When he got home, he put the shiny new bracelets in a box, doing his best to wrap them in bright red wrapping paper, her favourite colour.

At school the next day, he got in early and slipped the box into her desk drawer before she arrived.

“Eef,” that’s what she called him when something big was happening, “you won’t believe what I found!” she squealed to him after class.

She told him all about the bracelets she found at her desk, while he smiled and nodded, telling her he was happy for her. Jackie made eye contact with him and gave him a knowing look, his eyes darting around the room when he realised, but she didn’t say a word about it after that.

Seven

The number of med schools she applied to. They all applied to med schools.

She applied to Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton, Brown, NYU, and Johns Hopkins.

She was accepted to all of them, which was more than impressive. Her mother had never been prouder of her.

Ethan never told her, but he applied to the same schools as her, all seven. He got into all of them except Harvard, so hoped to every powerful being up beyond the night sky that she wouldn’t accept their invitation. He wasn’t ready to lose her, not yet, maybe not ever.

After spending countless coffee-fueled nights sorting through and weighing the pros and cons of each school, she finally decided on Johns Hopkins. Ethan did too, after he determined that they had the best professors there. At least, that’s what he told her when she asked how he decided.

Sienna, one of her closer friends in the group, was her shoulder to cry on if Ethan wasn’t around, which was rare but had happened a couple times throughout the years. Sienna decided to go to Princeton, along with her boyfriend, Wayne, or was it Dwayne? Nobody really knew as he never bothered to show up most of the time when they reluctantly invited him per Sienna’s request.

The rest of their friend group split up, each going to a different med school. They made a pact one drunken night the summer before they all headed out to med schools all across the country.

They promised to meet up every chance they could, even if it meant driving in the middle of the night through storm and snow. Jackie insisted it was way too cheesy when Sienna half sobbed, half stated it while they sat on Bryce’s rooftop, bottles of alcohol and snacks surrounding them, but in the end, the tears made Jackie agree.

Ethan helped her pack for college, something she assured him she could easily do herself but he insisted anyway. He helped move her things into her dorm, something he hadn’t yet done for himself but he didn’t care. They met her roommate, Grace Young, who upon first seeing them, mistakenly assumed they were dating. She quickly corrected Grace, properly introducing Ethan as her best friend.

Eight

That’s the number of years it took for Ethan to realise he was in love with her.

Why it had taken him so long, he didn’t have a single clue. He should’ve realised it sooner, but now he couldn’t not see it. Ethan was completely sure he was mind-blowingly in love with her.

Why hadn’t he noticed the first day he met her, when she immediately shared her apple slices with him, making him feel welcome and accepted unlike most of the class. Sure, he had figured out long ago that she was beautiful, but he never thought it was love.

Why hadn’t he noticed it all through middle school, when Bryce mercilessly teased the both of them about it. “Damn,” he thought, “I hate it when Bryce is right.”

And why had he not realised it in high school, when he spent all his savings he earned over countless summers to replace the bracelets that she lost? When instead of bullying her, Derek Reagan started flirting with her, which made Ethan so angry when he saw it happen, but ecstatic when she turned him down in front of the whole school, citing all the times he had bullied and picked on her. Friends don’t do that for each other. But she was more than just a friend, wasn’t she?

Ethan should’ve known when he followed her 370 miles away from their hometown just to be at the same med school as her. Sure, it was a great school, but that wasn’t the reason he was there. He was there for her. You don’t just do that for a friend you like or even have a crush on. No, he loved her.

It was quite ridiculous, really. How had she gotten him wrapped around her finger, and without him even realising for so many years? Ethan knew he was helpless to her charms, he would do anything she wanted him to do, he would’ve followed her to the ends of the earth if she had asked.

But did she know? That was the thought that circled around his head during sleepless nights as he tossed and turned in his bed. Did she know how weak she made him? How helpless he was when it came to anything that had to do with her?

He quickly decided that she couldn’t have known. She wouldn’t have let him spend all his birthday money and savings on her, let him follow her to med school, let him torture himself all these years if she knew it was all for her.

Nine

That’s how many apartment listings she had to choose from.

She sat in the coffee shop near the hospital reading over the listings. Now that they had started their residency, Grace had been matched with another hospital and moved in with fellow interns there.

This one was too expensive, that one would be too loud. She had no idea which one to choose. And to add to her troubles, she had no roommate. There was no way she could find a reasonable place in downtown Boston without a roommate, it was impossible.

That’s when Ethan walked through the door, his hair combed to perfection as usual.

“Ethan, thank god you’re here. Come help me pick out an apartment,” she pleaded, showing him pictures of all the listings.

He shrugged his jacket off as he sat down next to her, inhaling the comforting scent of hers he had grown to love over all these years that wafted through the air.

“This one looks nice,” he pointed to one of the listings, “barely a block away from the hospital, great lighting, tons of restaurants around, and the rent would be affordable for two people.”

“I know, it’s perfect but I can’t afford it,” Ethan frowned and looked up at her in confusion.

She let out a defeated sigh, “I haven’t found a roommate yet, and there’s no way I can afford that place all on my own,” she admitted and turned back to the other listings in search of a cheaper place, the frown still evident on her face.

“I’ll be your roommate,” he mentally cursed himself the second those words escaped from his mouth. He had just offered to be roommates with his best friend that he just happened to be hopelessly in love with. What could possibly go wrong?

His regrets immediately ceased to exist when her face lit up, full of delight. She threw her arms around him gratefully, hugging him as tightly as she could, and he knew every single moment would be worth it for her, “thank you so much, Eef!”

Ten

That’s the number of times he had tried to tell her.

The first time was when she came home after a bad day. It was pouring rain outside, and she had walked in completely drenched and in a mess of tears. After many attempts on Ethan’s part to try to get her to tell him what was wrong, he eventually gave up and stuck to comforting her instead. As she cried, soaking his clothes with not only her tears but the rain her clothes and hair had absorbed on the way in, he wanted nothing more than to tell her how much he loved her.

Then there was the time she convinced him to bake a cake together on their day off. He had accidentally gotten cake batter on her nose, and she laughed as she smeared some of it across his face, which resulted in a war using their leftover ingredients still on the counter. He never thought she was more beautiful than she was right there, and was tempted to risk it all. But he never did.

The third time was over the phone, he had gone home but she was still at Edenbrook, filling in patient charts when he received a call from her.

“Hey, Ethan.”

“Hey, what’s the call for?”

Her voice was momentarily shaky on the other end, it made his heart rate go up significantly, “I just wanted to tell you...hi,” was what she said after a long pause.

“You called just to say hi?” he laughed.

“Yeah. I gotta go now, bye,” she hung up before he had a chance to respond.

The next time was when they watched a movie. “Maybe a romantic movie would help,” he thought to himself as he loaded up The Fault In Our Stars. He was wrong. The movie only made her cry again, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her then.

The next time, he was determined to finally do it. He stopped by the florist on the way home, picking up a bouquet of her favourite flowers, bougainvilleas. He even rehearsed the exact words he was going to say when he professed his love to her while walking back. But he opened the door only to be met with her wearing a stunning blue sundress that left him was speechless. Only she had that effect on him.

The sixth time was in the middle of the night, around 1 am. Ethan couldn’t sleep, his head was clouded with thoughts of her and her alone. He convinced himself he was going to tell her. Yes, he was going to march into her room and tell her. He got up to tell her, but instead heard her throwing up when he approached the door. He spent the rest of the night comforting her and making sure she was okay.

Then he decided he couldn’t do it himself. He called up Sienna, who had long since figured out who Ethan was in love with. Sienna actually laughed when he had asked her to tell her on his behalf. She thought it was a joke. When she realised he was being serious, her lighthearted behavior dissolved, instead, she firmly told him that he had to do it himself, and promptly hung up the phone.

Eighth time’s the charm, right? Wrong. He thought of writing a letter, “it’s easier this way,” he thought. All he had to do was write his feelings down on a piece of paper and hand her the letter, easy. He then realised that it was far too impersonal. He knew her, hell, he spent more than half his life with her. And that’s why he knew that if he ever did it, she’d want to hear it in person from him directly.

Then he tried to tell her as they walked back from Edenbrook after a long shift. It was a typical Boston day, and Ethan decided there was no time like the present to tell her. He had every intention to tell her, he really did. But she received an important phone call that she needed to take just as he was about to open his mouth.

Finally, he decided that he had had enough. He wasn’t going to let anything come between his plans to tell her the truth for a second longer than he needed to. He planned a delightful picnic for the both of them. They headed to a nearby park that she loved on a cool but sunny day, it was a perfect day. And that was what stopped him from telling her this time.

They were having so much fun, what if by telling her the truth, he ruined the day. What if he ruined their entire friendship, years worth of time spent together wasted and down the drain all because he was so selfish? What if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, and that was the last good memory of her that he had? He gave up trying to tell her after that.

Eleven

That’s how many times she tried to tell him.

The first time was immediately after she found out. It was a shocking discovery, and she was lost as to what to do with the new information. It didn’t exactly help that it had been an awful day. On her way back to the apartment, it started to rain heavily. A terrible end to a terrible day, really. When she finally made it indoors, she instantly fell into his arms. She knew she could’ve told him there, but she didn’t.

She decided that they needed to be doing something more fun and lighthearted, so she suggested baking, and was surprised when he actually agreed. But seeing him there, covered in cake batter, who knows how much flour, and grinning at her, she wanted to keep this memory.

After feeling guilty for not telling him that day, she called him while taking a break from charts.

“Hey, Ethan,” she said, building herself up to finally tell him.

“Hey, what’s the call for?”

Her voice quivered, the nerves building up, “I just wanted to tell you,” she decided it was too much, she’d tell him another time, “...hi.”

‘You called just to say hi?” she heard his laugh on the other end.

She closed her eyes tightly, embarrassed, “yeah. I gotta go now, bye,” she hung up as quickly as she could.

The next time she tried to tell him was during movie night, but the bastard just had to pick The Fault In Our Stars. Since when did Ethan even start voluntarily watching romantic movies anyway? And he couldn’t have picked any other movie. She spent a good part of the rest of the night cursing the tears that choked back all the words she wanted to say.

Then she was going to tell him when he got back to the apartment. She spent so long in the bathroom practicing what she was going to say to him in the mirror. Time and time again, pacing in her favourite blue sundress to calm her nerves as she recited the words back to herself. But then he showed up with a bouquet of her favorite flowers. He had always been so sweet like that to her. She really didn’t deserve him, and she hated herself for not telling her then.

At 1 in the morning, she felt sick to her stomach, and rushed into her bathroom. She threw up all of her dinner from hours before, no doubt looking awful while doing so. Then Ethan showed up and spent the entire night comforting her. She knew she could’ve ended her own torture right then and there, and she was planning to. Up until she fell asleep on his shoulder.

Maybe she didn’t have to be the one to tell him? And so she drove an hour back to Providence to see her mom, seeking advice. There must’ve been a better way to tell him, a way that wouldn’t be putting her through so much agony. Her mom only hugged her tightly. She told her that she was the only one who could make the decision to tell him and wished her the best of luck.

She sat at her desk and attempted to write a letter, but how could you write someone a letter to tell them about such a subject? There was no way words on a piece of paper could explain how she felt. It wasn’t fair to Ethan, it had to be done in person.

And then there was the time they were walking back home from the hospital. She would’ve told him there, she should’ve told him there, but she didn’t. Instead, she received a phone call. She knew exactly what the call would be about even before she tapped the ‘answer’ icon.

The next was the time he set up a picnic for the both of them. It was a perfect day, it was the perfect time to tell him, but that was the moment she realised she loved him. She just wasn’t willing to stain the moment she realised she loved her best friend with her horrible news.

Finally, there was the time she actually told him the truth. It was cold, but she asked him to go up to the rooftop with her. He agreed, and they made their way up to the empty rooftop garden. They stood in silence as they looked out at the city around them, the city lights glittering like diamonds in the dark, or shooting stars in the night sky. Ethan tried to tell her first.

“I love—”

“Ethan, I’m dying.”

Twelve

That’s how many months are in a year. That’s how many inches are in a foot. That’s how many signs there are in the zodiac. That’s how many days of Christmas there are.

That wasn’t how many malignant tumours she had, Ethan refused to believe it.

Well, as he soon learned, that there were most likely more than 12 tumours in the person he grew up with, the person he loves, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the person who had much less than a lifetime to live. There were twelve tumours over a month ago, and she hadn’t told him.

He was so caught up in his own feelings that he didn’t know his best friend had stage 4 pancreatic cancer. It was needless to say he felt like absolute shit. She had end-stage cancer and he, a doctor, couldn’t do a single fucking thing about it.

He waited until he was out of her sight before he let all his emotions out, he asked her if she could go back in the apartment and leave him on the roof to process what had happened, she did.

He knew all about pancreatic cancer, he knew that the symptoms usually don’t show up until it was too late, he knew that it would’ve already spread all across her body. Yet, it didn’t stop him from completely breaking down after she went back down.

He sobbed, he sobbed until all the tears were gone, then he shouted, he shouted at the night sky, shouting at every being up there, screaming at them, asking how they could possibly curse the most perfect person in the world with an untreatable tumour.

Once he was done, once his tear ducts were dry and his throat was hoarse, he returned to the apartment, his eyes red and his throat sore. He quietly crept into her room, seeing those teary eyes of hers that broke his heart, that made every cell in his body hurt and scream. He wordlessly climbed into her bed and wrapped his arms around her. That was how they spent the rest of the night, him silently holding her in his arms, not willing to ever let go.

She fell asleep fast, she was tired, she was always tired nowadays. He was the opposite, his mind racing. He spent the entire night hating himself for not realising sooner, for missing all the clues. All the clues that were right in front of his face this whole time.

He remembered the first time he tried to tell her when she came home upset, was that when she learned the news? He thought about how she reacted to the movie they watched, he finally realised why she was crying so much more. Then there was the night she threw up, he cursed himself for missing that. It had been so obvious. But he hated himself the most for not spending all his time with her when he had the chance.

Now as he sat in the hospital room, his head in his hands as she slept soundly, all he could do was wait. Wait for the cancer to take her from her friends, her family, from him. That’s all he could do now, wait. Ethan had been in the hospital for a week now, she’d wanted to be at Edenbrook so that he could see her during his breaks, but he hadn’t worked since the day he found out.

He only went back to their apartment to take a shower every now and then, and even then he sprinted to and fro. They didn’t know when her time would be up, it could be hours, days, weeks, or even months. And he had to be around when she ran out of time, he would hate himself even more if he wasn’t.

He had called all of their friends, and they all took turns showing up at her room to see her. Bryce showed up with a gigantic stuffed teddy bear that didn’t fail to make her laugh. Jackie came with a million stories about her horrible intern, attendings, and patients alike. Sienna came in everyday bearing fresh home-cooked food for her.

His dad and her mom showed up most days too, providing words of encouragement for not only her, but him as well. They both figured out one way or another how he felt about her, and they knew how hard it was for him.

Ethan was always at the hospital, but limited the time he spent in her room. He couldn’t stand being at her bedside, watching her groan and moan in pain as he was completely fine. Everything just felt too real for him.

“Doctor Ramsey, she’s asking for you,” a nurse said. He looked up and nodded. His feet felt heavy, like they were made of bricks as he approached her room. He pushed the door open, and his heart dropped at the sight before him.

She was staring back at him, her eyes hadn’t changed a single bit. The rest of her didn’t share the same fate as her eyes. She was thinner, her face pale and gaunt, she looked exhausted. The hospital gown looked as if it was wearing her, and not the other way around. And despite all of that, she was still beautiful in his eyes.

“Hi,” she said in a whispered tone.

He pressed his lips together, choking back the tears that were beginning to form. He couldn’t handle this.

“You look awful,” she teased, which earned a pitiful laugh from him as he wiped the sides of his eyes where tears were moments away from falling.

She moved to one side of the hospital bed to make room for him. He hesitated for a moment, afraid that he would hurt her some way, but he eventually laid down beside her. Her frail frame clung to him, and he felt the dreadfully familiar feeling of her tears staining his shirt.

“I’m so scared, Eef,” her use of the enchanting nickname she gave him that he wholeheartedly loved made the tears fall from his eyes as he closed them tightly, holding back a sob.

He didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t find the right words, so he just hugged her as tightly as he could without hurting her and pressed his lips against her forehead. After all, what were you supposed to say to someone whose life you would trade your own with when they’re dying?

Was he supposed to lie and say “everything’s going to be okay”? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to lie to her any longer after all the wasted time he spent lying about his true feelings. No, he would hold her. He would hold her and love her until he couldn’t love her anymore.

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operationcavill · 3 years

Text

Professionals 2 - August Walker

August Walker is hired by Parker Industries to protect the companies most important assets; Mr. Stephen Parker himself and his workaholic, do-it-all executive assistant.

Part 1

*Contains a bit of a time jump

He doesn’t normally feel so guilty after speaking his mind, but he felt as if he should apologize. He settles into his room and still can’t get the interaction off his mind, the way the tone of her voice changed. He begins to log the distractions Y/N causes, in order to learn from it. It's the only way he knows how to correct himself.

Week 1 Distractions:

Humming

Scrunches her nose when reading

Rolling her eyes at me

Week 2 Distractions:

Pony tails

Making Coffee

Asked me to peel her orange

Gin Gin??

Week 3:

Cut the crust off my grilled cheese

Eating pickles as a snack

Video Calls with Joey

Refuses to call me August

Week4:

Dances in her bedroom

Waters all the plants except the one in my room

Eats too many pickles

Still won’t call me August

About a month into their stay, August finally admits to himself that he’s attracted to Y/N. He gave up on his lists and although he would never say it, made tougher security measures for her. He was now working his hardest, for her. The best thing about it was that he could tell she was doing the same, she was ignoring how she felt about him. At night, it consumed him. It was almost torture. He would stand outside her door after his routine sweep.

He’d listen to her sing along to Pearl Jam, which he did not expect at all. He could hear her laugh on the phone while talking to her friends. He could also hear her touch herself. He drove himself crazy with it. His forehead would rest against the wall as he listened to her gasp and moan to herself. He wondered how she did it. Did she tease herself? Did she use a toy? He’d let his mind run wild with the thought and when it was a particularly tiring day, he, too, would touch himself.

After weeks of back and forth meetings, long car rides, and occasional flights back to the city, they finally have a weekend free. The rest of the security is on call back at their hotel, but given permission to explore. Meanwhile, Parker, Y/N, and August are cooped up in this lake house that Parker insisted he stay at.

August checks in for the evening, making sure boss man has no plans to leave for the time being, “Go on, Walker. I’ve finally got time to catch up on sleep.” He nods and continues his sweep across the house. Y/N is not in the house, he barges into her empty bedroom, then back to the study. He finally spots her on the veranda, sipping on a glass of wine and just sitting. Every so often, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breathe.

He leans against door frame and speaks loudly, “You know, you’re supposed to tell me if you’re going out.”

She gasps, almost spilling her wine, “Shit!”

August doesn’t seem phased by her movements, “Could’ve said you’d be outside.”

“I don’t need constant security, and I didn’t go anywhere, I’m sitting on a porch.” She takes another sip from her glass.

“Actually, as part of the company, you do need security and it’s also raining.”

She rolls her eyes, her go to reaction, “I like rain.”

He looks up at porch covering, “Yeah, well, it’s too cold and foggy out here.”

“I’m fine.” He watches her plop a piece of candy in her mouth.

“Y/N—“ He gears up for yet another one of his speeches but she cuts him off before she has to endure it.

“August,” He doesn’t want to admit that he loves to hear her say his name, even if it comes out strange due to the candy in her mouth.

“The last thing we need around here is you with a cold. You’re miserable as it is.” His statement comes out harsher than he intended. He only meant that she’s already in a tough situation, and getting sick would only make it harder on her.

“You know what, Walker? You’re miserable! You have not once tried to be kind, not once tried to have a conversation with me. I don’t think you do anything but sulk. ‘Oh, I’m August. I have a mustache and a gun.’” She mocks his scowl, “I haven’t seen you smile at all, do you even have teeth?”

August wants to give her an ear full of banter but he can’t bring himself to be playful, he’s tired snd she looks pitiful. He gives her a false, but bright smile, “It’s getting late and it’s about to storm.”

She grunts as she gets up from her chair, “Goodnight.”

He notices her cardigan on the back of the chair and grabs it, making his way toward the stairs, then to her bedroom door. He stands there for a moment before knocking, trying to decide if he should apologize or not. She greets him with her hair in a lazy ponytail and a toothbrush in her hand, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you left your sweater downstairs.”

“Oh, thanks.” Y/N narrows her eyes at him, wondering why he’s just standing there, “Is there something else?” He’s sorry, but he shakes his head and bids her goodnight.

Y/N would be lying to herself if she hadn’t been noticing little things about August. She notices that he tries to hide his smile when he hears Joey ask about him, or that his eyes seem bluer when it rains. There was a particular shirt of his that was a little tighter than his others and she didn’t want to admit to herself that she wanted to see what was underneath it. She tried to deny how good looking he was, even with that ridiculous mustache.

Thunder claps just has Y/N snuggles into bed. She loved the sound of the heavy rain hitting the windows. When she was a little girl she would sit and just listen. Her brother, Jacob, would always make fun of her but it was something she enjoyed, just her and the rain.

...

The power flickers off and y/n heads to the hall linen closet for a lantern and maybe some candles for the hall. She knows she won’t be able to stop at this point in her book. The closet door swings open and she tries to catch something as it falls out. She winces at a broom smacking against the floor. Everything is still quiet, so she continues her search for a lantern. She hears a noise come from behind her and jumps. Y/N turns her flashlight toward the creaky floor and the beam lands on August, “Oh my god! You have got to stop scaring me!”

“I’m doing my job. I heard something.”

She points her light at his torso, “And came to check it out without a shirt?” She accidentally let the light linger there, taking in a very toned core. She knew he was in shape but, well, he was fit.

August tried his hardest not to stare, it may be dark but her can certainly make out her half naked silhouette, “You’re not wearing pants."

“I didn’t expect to you to ambush me while I was looking for more flashlights.”

“Such a professional business woman with polka dot panties.”

She pulls her shirt down but it does nothing to cover her, “My underwear is none of your concern.” She presses one of the extra flashlights to his chest, and walks toward her room, “Go to bed.”

Y/N huffs as she hears a knock on her door just as she closes it, “I don’t want to go to bed.”

She get’s ready to slam the door in his face but he has his hand on the door knob,“Then do something else.” He opens the door further and gives her and up and down.

“I thought you’d be the whitey-tighty type.”

“Well, that’s ridiculously out of line.” She puts her hand on her hip.

“I don’t think you care what I say anymore.”

“Excuse me?”

He closes her bedroom door, leaning his back against it, “I have a thing for bratty smart girls in cute little panties.” He drinks in her shocked expression, “What? The one time you don’t have something to say?”

“I have plenty to say.”

“You seem pretty quiet over there.”

The lightning flashes makes him look even more devilish, like a cheesy hour movie. He looks like he’s on a mission, and August Walker never abandons a mission. “I like to choose my words wisely.”

“That so?”

She gulps as he walks closer, “Yes.” She feels so exposed, as if the small lantern on her nightstand was as bright as the sun.

They’re only about a foot apart now. She could reach out and touch his chest if she wanted to, and she wants to. Just like he could read her mind, he whispers, “What are you waiting for?” She blinks hard, realizing people can’t actually read minds.

“I'm-I'm not waiting for anything.” He likes it when she’s nervous, he likes that he seems to be the only one who can do this to her.

“You’re so fucking stubborn. I see you looking at me, and I know you see me looking at you.”

He can see her brow furrow in the dim light and makes his move before she can argue. He grabs the back of her head, kissing her surprisingly softly. Her hands land flat on his stomach and he feels her nails on his skin when his tongue passes against hers. He pulls away and gently tugs her pony tail. Y/N looks doe-eyed and desperate. “You want me to go?” She doesn’t respond, “Fucking answer me, Y/N. I’ll pretend it never happened, if that’s what you want.”

[Tagged: If you’d like to be tagged, just shoot me a message or ask!]

@igotkatiepowers @xxxkatxo @lunedelorient @heartfelt-pen @omgkatinka @viking-raider @summersong69 @hell1129-blog @lilzebub @mansaaay @henryobsessed @harrysthiccthighss @cavillshmavill

*This was supposed to be all in the first part but something funny happened and they got split up!

#my posts #text #august walker #henry cavill x you #henry cavill au #august walker x female reader #henry cavill angst

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missmorosis · 3 years

Text

Thanks, Sokka

@urmomoness asked: okay okay #9 angst & #12 from random from the prompts,,,, with sokka or zuko,,,surprise me 🥰 just love that prompt combo ❤️❤️ also ILYYYY

THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING, I LOVE YOUUUUUUUUUUUU

enjoy hehe <3

Pairing: Sokka x Reader

Warnings: just the reader being real stressed ig

Word count: 1.2k

sorry if this made like... zero sense LSDJFLKSDF

For the entire day, Y/N was feeling out of it. Even as the words "body reported" flashed up at her, she hardly listened as her friends argued over who was "sus."

"Well Y/N's been awfully quiet." The sound of her name snapped her out of her thoughts. What is wrong with you?

"Yeah, Y/N, what's up with that huh?" Katara was suspicious of her.

“Y/NNNNN, give me attentionnn,” Sokka whined, poking her side. "You're normally so talkative!"

“Sorry, I just... it's nothing." She gave him a half-hearted smile, which was all she could manage. What is wrong with you? The question bounced around in her head once again.

"Well, Y/N is sus, VOTE HER OUT!" Aang instantly voted for someone, and she knew that "someone" was her. Pretty soon, all votes were in.

Y/N was not the imposter. 1 imposter remaining.

She sighed and continued to do her tasks as a ghost.

After Among Us, Katara led her into her own bedroom just to talk while Sokka, Zuko, Toph, and Aang did who-knows-what.

“Do... do you ever think about the future?” Katara asked her, looking up at the sky, and Y/N shook her head. Should she be thinking about the future more? Thinking about the future really got her stressed. She had no idea what was ahead of her, which worried her.

By the time her friends left, she was feeling mentally exhausted, but she put on a smile as she waved goodbye to them. She closed the door, and Sokka instantly went into his bedroom, yawning. She knew that he was asleep in 10 seconds, but it was past 1 am, so she couldn't exactly blame him. She trudged into her own room, quickly changed into her pajamas, and plopped into her bed. Her covers were cool to the touch, and as she pulled them up, her body thanked her.

She turned around in her bed. Did you do your math quiz? You know, it’s due in a couple minutes. Her mind snapped open as she frantically flipped on her laptop, opening up the assignment. Oh. She did it already. Thank goodness.

Wait. It was already graded? She scrolled to check on her grade.

64/100. Comments: Y/N, you can do better than this.

She- she had studied for it. She remembered studying for it; for a week, she got barely any sleep, and she was just constantly buried under her math book.

She flipped the pillow over. The thoughts that Katara had relayed on to her replayed in her mind. Why haven’t you really thought about your future?

She repositioned herself. Why don’t you have stuff figured out? What are you going to do about your math test?

She tried to get to sleep, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. She checked the time on her phone.

Oh shoot, it’s 2:47. She shut off her phone and closed her eyes, but no matter how tired she was, she couldn’t sleep. Some hot chocolate wouldn’t hurt, right? She got up, despite how late at night it was. Tripping over herself, she huffed, blinking frustrated tears out of her eyes.

She got to the kitchen and got the hot chocolate powder out of the cupboard. She couldn’t see very well, since it was pretty dark, but she opened the packet and placed it on the counter. She went to get the milk, and accidentally knocked over the packet, spilling all of its contents onto the floor. Shoot.

She was just so frustrated. Tears leaked out of her eyes as she fell to her knees, starting to wipe away the powder with some wet paper towels. Why couldn’t she do anything right? She continued wiping, her tears dripping onto the floor. Silly Y/N. It’s only hot chocolate. Stop crying.

She couldn’t stop crying. Instead, she started to sob. What’s wrong with you? Her hand fell limp against her side as she stopped cleaning. She sniffed and tried to push the tears away with her sleeves, but they just kept coming. Stop crying. Y/N. STOP CRYING. People have bigger problems than this, what’s wrong with you?

Pulling her shaking legs in, she sat up in a fetal position. Why- why couldn't she breathe?! She tried drawing in several breaths, but it wasn't working.

"Boo!" Sokka jumped out at her, and she screamed. She heard some laughter in the distance as she curled into a ball, panic rushing through her veins. Shoot, it’s Sokka. Why is he awake? She frantically wiped away her tears before he could see.

“Y/N? Are you in here?” Sokka tapped her arm, still laughing. His smile was almost mocking “Y/N, it’s like 3 am. Why are you still awake?” He squinted, trying to make out her figure in the dark. His voice was small and a bit raspy due to how late at night it was. “Woah, what happened here- Y/N?” The laughter quickly died on his lips, as he finally saw the state she was in.

"Hey, Y/N...? A-are you okay?" His voice dropped, now considerably softer. She opened her eyes ever so slightly, and she saw Sokka bend down next to her. "What's wrong?" He looked at her with concerned eyes.

"S-Sokka..." Her voice was cut off with a sob. Her breathing was ragged, irregular. She... she couldn't breathe.

"Hey, hey, it’s alright. I'm right here," he reassured her. "Breathe for me, okay?"

"I- I c-can't," her voice interrupted every second with an attempt to inhale, but she couldn't. Sokka grabbed her shaking hands.

"Y/N, it's okay. Inhale through your nose." Y/N tried her best to breathe in, drawing in a shaky breath. "Good! Okay, now hold it... okay good, great job. Now exhale for 8. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8..." She let her breath go. "Inhale again, for four. 1... 2... 3... 4... great!" Sokka continued counting for her until she could breathe again.

"Y/N?” She exhaled.

"I'm, I’m s-so sorry." Tears leaked through her eyes, blurring her vision.

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. Are you alright? What happened?" He pulled her into a hug. Her body was still shaking, just not as violently as before. She swallowed. He released himself out of the hug in order to look at her properly, but his hands still clung to hers. He spoke calmly and softly, which Y/N appreciated, although it was a lot different from the normal Sokka.

“No, I’m sorry. It’s really nothing, I don’t know why I’m like this.” She looked to the floor. Her eyes scanned the floor, covered in hot chocolate powder. Sokka pulled her chin up, forcing her to look at him.

“Y/N, it’s okay, I promise.” He wiped the tears on her cheek with his finger. “What’s wrong?”

“Just… I don’t know.”

“You can always talk to me, okay?”

“Okay.” She sniffed, and he got up, reaching for paper towels. He started wiping away the leftover powder and Y/N went to help, but he stopped her.

“It’s okay, I got it. Just hang out on the couch for a second,” he said.

“It’s fine, I can clean it up.” He sighed.

“Y/N, you leave me no choice.” He picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Sokka, please just let me go.” She struggled against him, but he threw her onto the couch.

“Stay.” He continued wiping up the hot chocolate on the floor, and began heating up the milk. Y/N watched him go through the steps intently, and he came back with two mugs of hot chocolate, one white and one blue. He handed her one and she carefully placed it onto the coffee table in front of her.

“Thanks, Sokka.”

heh soooo... yeah HAHA

Idk if I like this or not but that’s a-okay :)

Taglist: @zuko-is-the-sun @urmomoness @busyforkuvira

Send an ask to be added! <3

Requests are open! ily guys 🥺

#sokka x reader #sokka x you #sokka x y/n #sokka imagine #sokka oneshot #atla #atla imagine #atla x you #atla x y/n #atla x reader #sokka #atla oneshot #atla sokka #writing

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itsclydebitches · 5 years

Text

Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first:

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense.

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go.

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it.

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit.

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world.

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

****************************************************************************

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

#good omens #ineffable husbands #air conditioning #good omens fic #guess who spent 48 hours doing nothing but writing and formatting #can I get a wahoo

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