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pullhisteeth · 1 year

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something silly and soppy for this cold, miserable evening. indulge me in the vision I have of 9-5 Eddie and his gorgeous clothes. nsfw (kind of)

I know that Eddie's messy and boyish and wears ripped up clothing and that it's all part of the appeal but I want to indulge this idea I have so just imagine that you're both in your 20s and growing up with him by your side and he, to your surprise, gets a big boy job at a record label in Indianapolis. it's a 9-5 most weeks and so you take him shopping and get him some nice shirts and fancy trousers but you make sure they're still Eddie - a couple subtle chains and metal hoops, cufflinks with the devil and DnD dice on them. he keeps the rings and the bracelets and the chain he wears around his neck, though it stays under the shirt.

and then one day you come home from work and he's already in the living room, just like most other days. you find him on the couch, your cat on his lap, in his smart, well-fitting black trousers, crisp white shirt tucked in and a pretty leather belt around his hips. he's just in socks and he's messed his hair up a little, but he looks so goddamn grown up and smart and it makes you swoon.

he beams at you as you drop your stuff and sidle over to him. like usual, you're on him like a flash, the cat politely nudged off with you taking its place on his thighs, mouths and hands all over each other. this happens often; you miss him, he misses you, you both look hot in your work clothes. your hands roam over the cotton of his shirt and soon they grasp his belt and unbuckle it, running under his waistband and untucking his shirt. his lips are warm and wet on your throat and across your face; you're like horny teenagers who can't get enough of each other. the second half is true.

and, like every time, he takes you to the bed and the work clothes come off slowly but surely, thrown in slapdash piles on the floor. before he takes the shirt off he's between your thighs, because he knows you like how he looks in it. it's glorious and he's amazing and you're coming faster than ever, with his hands splayed across your thighs, rubbing up and down and gripping in desperation to the fat there.

when he moves up your body to kiss you, he stops, head hanging over your own, because you're crying.

he's pleading baby, are you okay? please stop crying, here, let's stop, c'mon, and you're reassuring him that i'm not sad, eddie, you're so good to me, i just can't believe this is my life.

he pulls you up to sit in his arms, and as he rocks you side to side gently, you tell him that there is nothing in the world you love more than coming home to your gorgeous, handsome, loving boyfriend stroking your cat on your couch in your home. and you tell him that you're not sure what to do with all the love you have for him, that you feel like telling him isn't enough, that you have never felt so content in your life.

he just tells you that he feels the same way. he tells you that he loves that he gets to wait for you to come through the door, he lives every day for the indescribable sensation he gets when you do, the way his heart leaps every single time, how he wants so badly to wrap you up and squeeze so tight that two become one.

he says he feels silly admitting that, but you just hold him in your hands and kiss him silly, assuring him that he's not silly, he could never be silly; you wish you could put it into words the way he does. a natural writer, he's so good at giving you ways of describing how you feel, and that's just it - you feel he completes you, though you know that you don't need completing. but that makes it better, because its a wholeness you never knew you could have.

he's still in his white shirt, though it's more crinkled now. you keep saying sorry for ruining the mood but he keeps repeating that you didn't ruin anything, as his hands continue roaming and he lies you on your back. you're kissing each other all over and you feel a warm glow inside your body. it is so nice to be so loved by someone you are watching grow up and who is watching you do the same.

#look ok I have a vision of him in well-fitting formalwear that made me buckle at the knees on my walk home this afternoon so here we are #imagine him in a pretty white cotton shirt and nice pinstripe black trousers and he's just got socks on and the shirt's unbuttoned a bit #and he just looks all grown up and like an adult and god the swoon #he'd be so beautiful #he IS so beautiful!#eddie munson #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things 4 #Eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic

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joelmillersmunch · 25 days

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harvest moon (joel miller x reader)

Summary: Joel Miller can't keep his eyes off of you. And damn, that ass is nice.

Ratings/Warnings: Fluff, some cussing, ass staring. Mostly just Joel Miller being in love and Tommy Miller being a little shit. Age gap, but both reader and Joel are grown adults (like reader is 30s Joel is early 50s) Joel has some anxiety, but nothing too descriptive. Canon divergence. I hope that's everything!

Word count: 845

A/N: I was listening to Harvest Moon by Neil Young the other day and thought to myself, "Joel Miller Joel Miller Joel Miller Joel Miller Joel Miller." Yeah, you get the gist. This was in my drafts from a few weeks ago and so I thought I would finish it. I hope you like it! Just something short and sweet. :) Imagine this gif but as Joel Miller and his beautiful greying hair....

“Darlin’, you know I don’t wanna do this either, but we gotta,” Joel says, a slightly annoyed gruff in his voice. It’s not like he’s annoyed with you, but he’s getting tired of pleading to get this show on the road. He hears you call back something from upstairs and he rolls his eyes, shuffling his way to the bathroom in which you’re currently occupying.

“Joel,” You start when he enters through the door. “I don’t mind going, and you know that. What I mind is you not tellin’ me till twenty minutes ago!” You say with a scowl. Your eyes lock through the mirror and he softens.

“”M sorry, sweet girl. Tommy didn’t tell me till we were leaving work today. I had about as much of a heads up as you did,” He says. You can tell he’s sorry, so with a soft huff you turn to face him.

“Well, he can’t be mad if we’re a few minutes late then. I’ll be done shortly, honey. Please stop stressing,” You say, giving him a soft kiss to his cheek. And just like that, everything was okay again. He needed you to remind him that everything is okay. I mean, the world is still ending, but everything is okay. Ellie and Tommy are safe. You are safe. He can’t ask for much more than that. He’s been having some anxiety issues lately, but you’ve been his saving grace. You make everything okay. With a nod, he leaves you in the bathroom alone. Sure enough, you emerge from the bathroom just a few minutes later ready to go. You grab your coats and make your way over to the bar.

Joel can’t keep his eyes off of you. All night he’s been staring you down from a seat at the bar, lightly sipping a beer. You’ve been dancing all evening with your friends..and Tommy. It was per his request for his birthday. “One dance, please. It’ll be so fun!” The younger brother pleads. You laugh and roll your eyes at him. He looks charming in his get up paired with a handsome cowboy hat on top of his head. He’s always been fond of you, but you always laugh it off and tell him to find someone his own age. He’d usually laugh and tell you to do the same, being that Joel is quite a few years older than you. Joel would usually mumble something and pout as you and Tommy continued to poke fun at Joel’s expense. You all know that Tommy’s crush isn’t serious, so you agree and follow your brother in law to the floor.

The song changes as the two of you find a spot, and a lively dance song starts. Joel watches the two of you from the bar. God, your ass looks so good in those jeans. They fit perfectly, sculpting your hips and figure so well that he can’t help but swoon over you. He watches as you and Tommy hold hands, swinging in circles like two teenagers. Tommy places the cowboy hat on your head and gives a loud, “YEEEEEEEEHAWWWWW,” across the bar. Joel laughs as you buckle over in a fit of giggles. Joel stands up, finishes his beer and slowly makes his way to you as the song comes to an end.

“Alright, give her back to me.” He says playfully, but you know part of him is serious. Tommy laughs and gives you a pat on your arm.

“Thanks, darlin’. If you get tired of my brother any time soon, you know where to find me.” He says and shuffles away laughing. Joel rolls his eyes and pulls you closer. The next song begins, the simple guitar strum taking him back to a simpler time. Harvest Moon by Neil Young plays overhead softly, and the two of you begin to sway along.

“That fuckin’ guy, I swear,” He says and you can’t help but laugh at him. He stares down at you, confused as to what you’re making such a fuss about. “What are you lookin’ at?” He asks.

“You are such a silly man, Joel Miller,” You say and smile at him. You grab the back of his neck to pull his face closer to yours. “There ain’t no man better than you. I want you. I am yours.” You say, and you take the cowboy hat from your head and place it on his. He chuckles and pulls you even closer, savoring the moment.

Because I’m still in love with you

I wanna see you dance again

Because I’m still in love with you

On this harvest moon

He leans down, cowboy hat slipping down his head, and gives you a slow kiss. The harmonica and guitar sing in the background. Everything feels perfect.

“My girl, I love you,” He says. He feels you smile against his lips, never taking yours away. “I love you, too.”

Because I’m still in love with you

I wanna see you dance again

Because I’m still in love with you

On this harvest moon

A/N: dividers by @saradika-graphics thanks so much!!

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phantasmagoric-acquaintance · 2 years

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Taako chucks a small plastic bag into his sister’s lap as he slides into the passenger seat of their car.

“What’s this?”

“Gift.”

A gift from Spencer’s, if the writing on the bag is any indication. Lup side-eyes Taako suspiciously. “For why?”

“Um, ‘cause I wanted to? Can’t a guy do something nice for his sister without being questioned like a damn criminal? Fuck.”

She crinkles her nose at him before turning her attention to the bag. Cautiously, she reaches in and removes a rolled-up black t-shirt. She unfurls it to find a well-endowed anime girl in lingerie staring demurely back at her.

“Taako, why the fuck did you buy me this?” she asks flatly.

“What, you don’t want matching hentai shirts with your favoritest brother?”

“I don’t think anyone on the goddamn fucking planet wants that.” Lup stuffs the shirt back into the tiny plastic bag and throws it back to Taako. “You’re fucking insane. I can’t believe you. Did you actually walk up to the cashier like, ‘Hi, yes, two hentai shirts for me, please’?”

Taako shrugs. “They work at fucking Spencer’s. Their whole job is to ring up weird shit for weird people.”

“Yeah, but—” She pauses, and squints at Taako. “When did you get your nose pierced.”

He raises a hand to the small sterling silver stud in the side of his nose. “Today. Lunch break. Right after Spencer’s.”

Lup raises an eyebrow. “Please don’t tell me—”

“Yes, Lup, I got it done at Claire’s.” Taako throws his head back, exasperated. “Please don’t make me hear a lecture about it.”

“No, you’re gonna hear a lecture about it.” She throws the gear shift into reverse and begins backing out. “Taako, why?”

He shrugs. “I got paid today. And I was bored.”

Lup throws him another funny look as she turns to face forward again. “I can’t believe you. You’re gonna get an infection.”

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I look so much cooler than you now.”

“You’re not gonna look cooler than me when you have a big nasty rotten bump on your nose, idiot.”

“’S fine. The guy looked like he knew what he was doing.”

“How does one ‘look like’ they know how to pierce a nose?”

“Oh, you know. Kinda goth. Lots of piercing himself.” Taako turns his face towards the passenger side window, away from his sister.

“Oh, my God,” Lup responds, and Taako says a few curse words in his head. Hiding his face isn’t enough to keep his sister from reading him like a picture book for babies. “Taako?”

He says nothing, keeping his eyes glued to the view through his window. She gives his shoulder a quick squeeze. “T, you did not get your nose pierced just because you thought the guy who works at Claire’s was hot.”

He turns back to face her, throwing his hands up defensively. “Oh, so you’re allowed to swoon over the guy at the creepy phone case stand all day, every day, but when I just happen to notice the guy who works at Claire’s is objectively attractive, I’m the weirdo?”

She’s grinning like this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to her. “I didn’t get a sketchy-ass nose piercing from the guy I like.”

“You bought a phone case from him, that’s kind of the same thing.”

“It is not! I’m not going to get an infection from a phone case!” She is full-on laughing at him now “Why didn’t you just buy something normal?”

“Yeah, sure. ‘Hey, hot guy who works here, I’m a grown-ass fucking adult man and I’d like to purchase this, fucking… JoJo Siwa hairbow. I’m so not a creep-ass weirdo, please go on a date with me.’”

“As if getting your fucking nose pierced there makes you seem any more normal!”

“Whatever. You’re just jealous,” Taako repeats. He turns away once more, and crosses his arms, signaling a desire to end this conversation.

(more mall au here)

#the adventure zone #taz #taz balance #taakitz #lup #taako #kravitz #this is actually all i have written to date but im likely going to make more of this #hoping getting this lighthearted stuff out will help me find the motivation to do my prompt fills and sbtts

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hannahsmusings · 2 years

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Renee

I’m not the type to pretend to like something to get a guy’s attention. I might not say this beer sucks out loud if I was talking to someone who I found attractive, but I definitely wouldn’t pretend to like it… *pretending that Anthony wasn’t attractive was so hard, knowing I was living in denial by how often I ad to remind myself that I was not attracted to him, but truth be told, he was decently attractive now* *before he was a scrawny annoying teenager but now he was an adult and he definitely filled out, seeming to find a look that worked for him and although he was the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met, I couldn’t deny that he was definitely “hot” now* *I bring the can to my lips, the beer not actually being that bad but the entire circumstance was infuriating so therefore, the beer was infuriating as well* *I scoff at his lack of answer* You’re impossible. You ask me about my life but then all I get is a ‘why not’? You couldn’t leave this town fast enough once you graduated… you could’ve moved anywhere but you chose to come back here too. There has to be a reason for that other than God playing the biggest prank on me. *I can't help but let out a quiet chuckle at that, it being the first time I even cracked a smile in front of Anthony so far, taking a sip of my beer as I look over at him, the 3 beers I've had in quick succession starting to catch up to me a little bit*

_____________________________________

*cocks a brow as you very clearly state that you didn't find me attractive, unable to help the way my stomach clenches at the ego hit and trying to assess your face to see if you were telling the truth but coming up short* *caught off guard a little because I so clearly found you attractive, you always being pretty but as a kid I didn't really notice it much but now you were stood here all grown up I couldn't deny that you were exactly my type, reverting to cockiness to make up my ego* Oh come on... *steps in closer, flexing my muscles a bit and shooting you a cocky smile* You don't find me attractive? Are you sure? *practically smoulders at you, using all the tricks to get you to swoon like the other girls did, hating that I couldn't impress you, it only making me fixate on you more* *looks suprised as you laugh at your own joke, unable to help the genuine smile on my lip as your laugh was a nice sound, shaking my head and rolling my eyes* Once a diva, always a diva I see. *grins, us closer now as I sip my beer* I just felt like coming home. That's all.

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estinininininen · 2 months

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FFIV: Delicate Flower (Ao3 link), 1/2, "Rose of Baron"

A younger Kain Highwind thinks a lady wants grand gestures and idealized romance. Chivalry is, after all, about putting someone on a pedestal.

~2000 words, Cecil/Rosa, teenage awkwardness, jousting, medieval sexism, ye olde sports medicine, blood and injury, embarassment. I messed up the post date on ao3, anyone remember the meme 'oh god how do i computer'

There was a long history of chivalric romance in Baron. Ballads dedicated towards lady-loves, serenades pining for a glimpse from the window, romantic epics detailing chaste and loyal admiration from afar - these all young men in Baron at court had heard growing up.

Chivalry had grown even more popular in Kain's generation. At fifteen, when he grew taller almost as fast as he could Jump, Baron was the dominant military power in the world yet without clear purpose. King Odin scrambled to find ways to channel the energy of young men, for not just his two foster sons, but an entire generation told they were due glory and honor.

This led to some appreciation for the songs of Damcyan and the dances of Troia, but it more resulted in endless tournaments. If Baron could not have war, then Baron would have sport. Wrestling, archery, races, fencing, chocobo jousting, and more - traditional combat arts from around the world were open to all. Competitions specific to the Baron military, such as dragoon jousts and acrobatics, were where fame and romance - and tempers - ran hottest. Kain started in the specialized dragon-knight bouts at seventeen, the same year Rosa began her official white mage apprenticeship.

The morning of the dragoon jousts, he woke up at daybreak, his head filled with fantasies of Rosa swooning over his dangerous and thrilling close-call victories against more experienced opponents. He looked for her at the white mage triage tent, not admitting to himself how sure he was she would give him her favor. Instead he wondered what it might be from a girl as practical as Rosa. A handkerchief? A glove? A hair ribbon, the fashionable lady's imitation of the great protection charm?

When she saw him, she turned to her white mage master. Then she turned back to Kain and looked uncertain.

Kain bowed. "Fair lady, sweet Rosa. May I have thee's favor for this day I fight?"

Behind Rosa, the thin old white mage frowned.

Rosa dropped her eyes and said something he had never once expected. "Master Giles does not approve of encouraging dangerous sport," she said.

Kain straightened.

"Huh?" he said.

Rosa's lips thinned. "I don't want you to get hurt, either," she said.

If he had time to think about how to answer this, he might have said something. But his fantasies had never seen Rosa protesting hurting himself on her behalf until some point after she had given him her favor. Kain didn't even have time to think through the logic that continuing to pursue a fair maiden after she had said 'no' was unchivalrous. He stopped talking with her for a practical reason: her teacher didn't approve, and he didn't want to get her in trouble. He backed away, gaping at Rosa like she had grown a second head, then turned around and stumbled away to prepare for his match. He felt like the most monstrous idiot in all of Baron.

Kain thought to look for Cecil. Cecil was not competing that day in anything, which was why Kain had been sure Rosa would pick him. Sixteen was a bit of an awkward age for young nobles at tournaments in Baron. They were either trained up in some standard combat well enough to thrash the junior competition, or deep in their adult specialty training.

Sure enough, Cecil had disappeared into intense study with the Baron air force. He had also started that strange swordfighting style (or were they simply strange weapons?) the King had tried to explain to Kain. At the time the King hadn't told Kain the name of the style, which would have gone a long way towards helping Kain understand why it could be as important as the dragoons.

Kain and Cecil almost crashed into each other.

"Kain!" Cecil said. "I've been looking everywhere for - are you alright?"

"Um," Kain said. For he had just noticed peeking out of Cecil's doublet: a clean but worn-thin handkerchief, embroidered only because the stitches reinforced the hem, just one of many from Joanna Farrell's basket at her and Rosa's home.

"Kain? What's wrong?" Cecil said.

"Nothing," Kain said.

Everything went wrong. In the random draw, Kain found out he was going to joust against his father's second-in-command, the dragoons' acting head. Kain gulped. No matter how kind all the older dragoons had been supporting his inheritance as a military noble, Kain knew stern old Sir Halbright was going to treat him the same as any other upstart dragoon. The same as he did when training them, and the same as he had treated Kain the moment Kain turned fifteen and had to unlearn so many bad habits picked up as a spoiled dragoon princeling - by smashing young pride against the spearpoint of experience.

What Kain did not expect was how quick it was over. Kain and Sir Halbright moved into the arena, bowed, and Jumped. A number of unashamed dragoons on the sidelines Jumped up with them to rubberneck. And there in the sky at level with dragoon heights was a new addition. There was a small airship with a spotter and some privileged viewers, including the King, which was why the dragoons had conceded the honor. Kain saw a brief flash of silver hair next to Odin -

Kain's lance came up to meet Sir Halbright's on instinct, which was perhaps all that kept Kain alive. Halbright's arms moved, and Kain felt something like a bite or kick in his underarm. Halbright's arms moved again, whirling past Kain's confused hands, and a brick wall of reinforced polearm butt popped across Kain's armored temple. The next thing he knew, Kain was lying on his back on the decking of the airship.

King Odin, Sir Halbright, and Cecil leaned over him. Once he opened his eyes, they all sighed, and only Cecil still looked anxious.

Kain had not met the King yet that day and a lifetime of court etiquette told Kain to greet him with a Your Majesty. The words that came out instead were "Wha' happ'n?"

The King moved back. Sir Halbright started muttering as he adjusted something under Kain's armpit. "Lost everything I've ever told you, you did. Tossed you around like a greenhorn. Forgot to expect a counter. Kain Highwind, are you an infant? Are you a child?" Halbright pulled out the soft thing rolled between Kain's armor and skin, replacing it with another to staunch the -

"Hey," Kain said. "Hey. That's Rosa's," he slurred. "You're getting blood all over it."

They ignored him. Cecil tilted his head. "Don't worry, Kain. You'll be at the white mages' soon," he said. The more Kain spoke, the more nervous Cecil seemed.

"That's a lady's," Kain said, sure that he was looking at the handkerchief, until he wasn't. He tried to focus again. "Don't get blood on it," he said. Kain was impressed with how calm the three all were. "Ladies don't like blood," he tried to tell them. Had Cecil ever been around this much blood? Kain thought he would know if Cecil had ever seen anyone this hurt. Kain had always felt a bit unfocused around blood. Not woozy. Unfocused. It was a lot of blood.

"That's a lot of blood," Kain said, and fainted.

For the second time that day, Kain came to flat on his back. He looked up at the canvas top of the healers' tent. Rosa leaned over him.

"Oh! You're awake," she said.

She was wiping away blood from his bared chest and arm like it was all but dried gravy on a plate. Kain felt much better, except for deep embarassment at every aspect of his existence. This was not how he wanted to show Rosa his new muscles. He was not shy. He was not. There were some things it was just not appropriate to show a lady until the Time was Right, a time that was preferably after rescuing her from a scheming villain but before dueling a noble for her honor.

Kain looked at the motes of dust dancing in sunlight around Rosa's golden hair, and he wondered how anyone so pretty could touch anything so nasty as his blood.

Rosa frowned down at him in the middle of his daydream. She pulled his right eye open. "Can you tell me your name?" she said.

Kain swatted her hand away. "'M awake," he said. "I'm Kain Highwind. You're Rosa Joanna Farrell. Today is the first of June. Today is my first dragoon joust, and I got my ass handed to me by Sir Halbright. So . . . really it's like any other day."

Behind Rosa, Kain heard Cecil's familiar laugh and Master Giles's. "So he is okay," Cecil said.

"I'm sorry you lost your first dragoon tournament match," Rosa said.

"Thank you for not telling me 'I told you so,'" Kain said.

Rosa smiled. "I'm just happy you're okay," she said, and it was like a sister, or like a white mage to any patient, and Kain grit his teeth and smiled back while wondering if he could ask Halbright to try again and bump him off for good this time.

Cecil and white mage Giles were continuing a conversation. " . . . and while I'm sure the King means well, you have a say in what means well for you, for your sake."

"Thanks, sir," Cecil said, and Kain heard more familiarity from Cecil for Giles than expected. Giles was the master healer for military white mages, specialized in injury, not the court healer that Kain and Cecil saw for childhood sniffles.

"I mean it, lad," Giles said. "I'd hate to see you chewed up by Odin's passing fancy. He'll come to reason soon, but you'll have the scars forever."

"Hm," Cecil said, and coughed, and looked at Kain. Kain for his part was wondering how hard Halbright hit him. Was he was hallucinating a master trauma healer trying to concince Cecil to . . . leave the air force? That it would leave him upset forever somehow?

"Ah," Giles said, and motioned to Rosa, who started bustling Kain out of the tent to test his balance and the motion of his healed arm. Behind them, Giles and Cecil looked ready to continue their conversation. As Rosa and Kain left, a page came pelting up and announced another dragoon injury, to the forearm, walking under their own power to the triage tent. Rosa hesitated until Giles dismissed her again. "Cecil can help me," Giles said. "He needs to practice his dressing."

Instead of asking what on earth Master Giles meant, Cecil nodded.

Kain let himself be led to the recovery green, where everyone throughout the tournament worked through small hurts. Another dragoon was lying down and breathing after being sick from overexertion. The other, injured dragoon walked up with a hand clasped over his arm wound. They ignored Kain, who had never realized how little noble manners mattered until you felt awful or were bleeding out.

"Rosa?" Kain asked. "Why does Cecil have to practice his wound dressing?"

"Don't worry about it, Kain," Rosa said, which made Kain worry about it even more. "Giles and I are looking after him. Can you stand on one leg and hold your balance for me?"

Kain did so. "And when'd you start looking so tired?"

"Great, you can stop," Rosa said. "Can you rotate your arm all the way around?"

"Do I even know either of you anymore?" Kain said, whirling his arm over his back and around.

"I don't have time to worry about that," Rosa said. "Mmm, no, wait. I'm sorry. It has been a long time since we really spoke."

"It has," Kain said.

"Maybe we can talk later," Rosa said. She continued leading him like a chocobo through paces until she said, "That's it, you're fine," and turned back to the tent without waiting for Kain to respond. "Oh - bye-"

She slipped into the tent without another word.

#kain highwind #cecil harvey #rosa joanna farrell #ffiv #ffiv fanfiction #my ao3 crosspost

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wisherbysharlight · 3 years

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My God if I could only say, I'm holding every breath for you

Description: Patton Hart has been pining for his best friend's twin brother and his boyfriends for as long as he can remember. Word Count: 3067 Ships: Patton/Remus/Janus/Virgil, background Logince, established Remus/Janus/Virgil Warnings: Remus being Remus, twins squabbling AO3 This is a gift fic for @sunshineandteddybears for the @sanderssidesgiftxchange. The “summer romance” piece kinda got away from me, but this is definitely found family! I hope you enjoy!

Patton was wiping down the counters, about 15 minutes after closing, sunset shining through the windows as he hummed along to the radio, a sense of peace radiating through the store.

Of course, that’s when chaos erupted.

“Pattycakes, you gotta save me!” Remus cried as he threw the door open so roughly the windchimes actually smacked against the window above the door before falling back down and jingling merrily to announce his presence. He ran behind the counter with no hesitation, gripping onto Patton’s waist. (Patton only shivered because of the burst of adrenaline. That was the only reason. No other possibilities. Nope.) Remus angled them both towards the doorway just as Roman came bursting in with the same amount of urgency, fire in his eyes and shirt dripping wet and seemingly tinted a particularly garish shade of greenish-brown.

“Remus, you can’t hide behind Patton forever, you bastard!” he seethed, and Logan, Janus, and Virgil came through the door behind him, much more calm, almost to the point where Patton would call them bemused. Logan took a seat at one of the small tables along the wall, pulling out his phone with a very evident intention to simply wait the whole debacle out, while Janus and Virgil both leaned up against the glass case in front of Patton. “Get out here and face me, you coward!” Roman bellowed again, clearly not giving up anytime soon.

Patton grabbed an empty paper towel roll from next to him and turned at the waist to whack Remus in the head with it, “Remus you cannot use me as a human shield, go answer for your crimes.” “Kinky. I’d much rather have you issue my punishment,” Remus joked with an eyebrow wiggle, then cackled when Patton made a strangled noise and shoved him back to the other side of the counter. However, as soon as he was in range, Roman grabbed hold of him and pulled him into a headlock and his laughter turned swiftly into a shriek of “Oh shit!”

They were 12 years old, tearing through the woods in a dual-friend-group game of manhunt the summer before 7th grade. Virgil was hot on everyone’s heels and adrenaline was coursing through their veins. Patton leapt over a log and turned a corner, hunting for a good place to hide.

He heard a curse of “Oh shit!” echo through the woods before the sound of three branches breaking in succession, a huge crash, and a subsequent groan. He quickly pivoted and went sprinting back towards the house, and the sound, easily finding Remus splayed across the forest floor even in the dim light of the moon.

“Why would you climb a tree, silly goose? Don’t you know the branches are weak that high? Scared me half to death!” he chided as he fell to his knees beside him, already pulling band-aids out of his wallet in his pocket.

Remus grinned impishly up at him, and Patton felt his breath catch in his throat, fumbling with the wallet briefly in a way he prayed the other boy didn’t notice. “What’s a lil fear in the face of a bunch of excitement, Patty?” he crooned, and Patton shoved a handful of band-aids at him with little delicacy in his haste to move past the tease. “Besides, I have the best nurse in the world to patch me up when my fun does go south, apparently.”

Patton flushed and turned away, positive Remus could tell even in the weak light, but he couldn’t keep the earnestness out of his voice, “I’ll always patch you up, Ree. Promise.”

Remus didn’t get a chance to respond before Virgil burst through the bushes and tapped them both on the shoulder to get them out and a loud, extended debate began about the validity of the “injury time out”.

Janus leaned on the counter in front of Patton, jolting him out of his reverie. He pointed at the menu, with three shiny new additions at the bottom, “You finally manage to find a flavor sweeter than you, sugar?”

Virgil shoved him out of the way with an eye roll and a fond grin, thankfully distracting from how Patton felt his cheeks would melt the freezers. “He can’t stop flirting even for two seconds, I swear.”

Janus gasped dramatically, swooning against the counter and batting his eyes at Virgil like a starlet in an old black and white, “Maybe if you and Remus gave me the attention I deserve I wouldn’t need to hunt it down in beautiful, endearing ice cream shop owners.”

Remus snorted despite the way he was currently trying to claw his way out of his brother’s hold while being noogied like they were still teenagers and not fully grown and employed adults, “We could give you all the attention in the world, Janny, it would never stop you from flirting with Patton.”

Janus sniffed derisively at them, then cocked his head to the side as the song changed and smiled softly, “Hey, I know this song.”

Patton smiled brightly back, “Yeah of course, have it on all the playlists for the shop!”

“Simp!” Remus called over just as brightly, and Patton glared back at him, assuming it was aimed at him.

“Ok, you look miserable,” Janus said, making Patton jump from where he was staring down at his water glass watching the liquid swirl around the glass as he moved it in little circles and maybe lamenting his singledom a little bit in the face of a dance floor full of sappy teenagers in fancy clothes enjoying the crisp June night and each other as their last hurrah before graduation.

Patton plastered on a smile, “Oh Jan, I am perfectly hap-”

Janus arched a brow at him, tsking lightly and just loud enough for Patton to hear and stop speaking. “Don’t try to lie to me, I know what you look like when you are actually happy, Patton. And also you’re a god-awful liar.”

“...yeah ok. I’m a little bit lonely, maybe, with Ro and Lo gettin their dance on for the romantic stuff. But I’m not mad, they’re in love, and I told them to go hang on their own. We’ll hang out at the beach house after!” He couldn’t help but glance at the dance floor, where Logan was leading Roman in a waltz that was perfectly on time with the music, lost in their own little world.

“Well Ree and V bailed for the beach early. Not exactly their style of music or dancing, or my vibe to make them do something they don’t enjoy just to get my feet stepped on. Why don’t we be miserable together?” The song changed, to a song with a more Latin-inspired beat that Patton knew only one of every 10 words to, and Janus smirked, “Maybe you and I can even make the most of it and I can score a salsa partner.” Janus ended his proposition with an exaggerated wink and bow, and Patton took his offered hand with a genuine grin.

Janus didn’t miss a beat, switching eye contact to Roman on a dime, “Hey, did you know Remus was the one who’s been screwing with your guitar’s tuning?”

“NONONO HE’S LYING,” Remus cried as Roman tightened his hold and doubled down on his attack, this time poking at his ribs and making Remus shriek in laughter.

As Janus watched Roman wrestle Remus down to the floor of the shop, clearly satisfied with the reaction he managed to get, Virgil nudged him over with his hip to take his place leaning across the counter and whisper conspiratorially, “I bet it was actually Logan. Bastard can get away with murder, I just know it.”

Patton couldn’t help but giggle, with Virgil’s playful smile and dancing eyes across from him, so open and trusting in a way he never was unless it was just the group of them. He smirked a bit, nibbled at his lip in consideration, then leaned in to say in an equally conspiratorial style, “Logan’s only involved to see how long it’ll be before anyone catches on. My record stands.”

“You are a trickster Patton Hart,” Virgil gasped in mock-scandal. He wagged his finger with his hand on his hip in a not-half-bad impression of Patton during a lecture, though he was unable to match his Patton-ted Disappointed Frown while he was grinning, “I’d never expect my partner in crime to be doing something like this without telling me, shame on you. You know I always have your back.”

It was their last weekend of freedom before they started high school, and as per usual both twins had both their friends sleeping over. Patton woke before Logan and Roman, also as per usual, and snuck out of Roman’s room down to the kitchen, only to jolt as he found the light already on and Virgil sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Whatcha doin?” Virgil asked, legs kicking in the air in front of the cabinets lazily.

“Gonna try to make pancakes! I’m positive I won’t burn them this time, I just know it,” Patton enthused, then squinted suspiciously at Virgil, “What’re you doing?”

“Oh just hanging around, keeping an eye out in case anyone tries to burn the house down again so I can help out. Figured they might need a partner in arson crime, ya know, and I could let them know I’ve got their back,” Virgil teased, nudging Patton’s leg with a sock clad foot. He looked so precious with his sleep mussed hair and eyeliner from the night before smudged under his eyes that Patton couldn’t even bring himself to argue that he really didn’t need a babysitter. Honestly, he couldn’t even begin to pretend he didn’t want the excuse to spend more time with him.

The twins’ argument grew more heated, finally managing to distract Patton from where he was a bit lost in the way Virgil’s eyes lit up when he was amused.

“You fucked up one of my favorite shirts!” Roman screeched as he attempted to give his brother a wet willy.

“You put red koolaid in my shampoo two weeks ago, you baby!” Remus cried back, shoving at his shoulder to try to get him off, and succeeding rolling them only for Roman to roll them straight back.

“I know you were the one who put my script out of order,” Roman fired back.

“You should have been off book anyway! And you broke bro code and told Virgil I was the one who deleted his X-Files off the DVR. You are just as bad as me.”

“You gave mom’s computer a porn virus and blamed it on me!” Roman protested, and everyone else seemed to simultaneously sigh as they descended into their usual back and forth of dredged-up pettiness.

“Oh you're still - you squashed my bug collection.”

“You left me stranded in the yard after Remy’s homecoming party senior year.”

“That was absolutely justified, you made me listen to you wax poetic about Logan’s fucking lips for 3 hours.”

“You made me listen to you wax poetic about Patton’s EVERYTHING for 13 YEARS”

Everyone in the shop simultaneously went silent in a blink of an eye. Virgil went white as a sheet and swung to look at the twins with wide eyes, Janus gripped the counter white-knuckled and looked at Patton with a similarly stunned expression, and Remus turned nearly as red as the sash on Roman’s favorite Prince Charming costume. He shoved Roman off of him for real, a more severe growl to his voice as he seemed to realize there was no way to play it cool, “You are such a fucking dick!”

Roman stammered for a moment, clearly trying to digest the change in tone and the weight of what he’d said, before waving his arms above his head in apparent bafflement, “It’s not like he didn’t know you all were into him!”

“Roman,” Logan spoke up suddenly, gesturing at Patton and what Patton knew had to be a completely shell-shocked expression.

Roman looked up and went just as wide-eyed as the others, “Pat… did... did you not know?”

“...all of you?” Patton asked, then winced as his voice cracked in shock. He watched Virgil flinch and seem to retreat into his hoodie out of the corner of his eye, and Janus’ face smoothed over into a perfect mask of calm in the blink of an eye. He felt his heart break just a little bit at the disappointment in both of their eyes at what he was sure they saw as a rejection.

Logan grabbed Roman’s arm and yanked him away roughly, though Roman followed easily, “You all clearly need to communicate. I will handle this one.”

“Don’t wanna know about you handling my brother, poindexter,” Remus joked hollowly, sounding almost like it was a reflex with none of his usual cackle behind it.

Logan rolled eyes and headed out the door, tugging behind him a Roman who was fervently whispering, just barely audibly, “He didn't know, how did he not know,” to himself over and over again.

There’s silence in the shop for a while, just the sound of the radio faintly playing over the loudspeakers echoing off the walls as they all just stare at each other, not knowing how to start. Then Janus took a deep breath and spoke first, “Patton, I refuse to speak for these two clowns, but I will absolutely tell you that I, at the very least, have had feelings for you for many years, feelings which i was unaware I was not making perfectly clear, or that there was a chance of any sort of reciprocation.”

“Around 7 years for me, give or take. That first morning we made pancakes together,” Virgil added quietly, fiddling with the zipper on his sleeve.

Remus averted his gaze, looking nervous in the way Patton had only seen the day before he confessed to Virgil and Janus in high school, and admitted in the quietest voice Patton’d ever heard him use, “I don’t know exactly when, Pattycakes. You’ve always been there and as far as I’m concerned I’ve loved you just as long. And-and I just assumed it wasn’t returned.”

Patton swallowed thickly, trying to push back tears because he knew these boys and knew they would take them for disappointment rather than the joy they were. He dove at Remus first, vaulting the counter the way he always scolded Roman against and sliding to his knees next to the other man on the floor before crushing him in a hug. He flailed back at Janus and Virgil with one hand to pull them in as well, “Come here, all of you, we’ve lost so much valuable cuddle time!”

Patton was pretty sure Janus broke the sound barrier with how quickly he was plastered to his side and burying his face in his hair, and Virgil wasn’t far behind, wrapping an arm around his waist and burying his face in the crease of his neck and shoulder. Patton took that moment to be a bit daring himself and press a kiss to the corner of Remus’ lips, then giggled brightly when Remus grabbed hold of his cardigan and used it to pull him back in to kiss him full on the mouth with just as much passion and impulsiveness and laughter as Patton had always imagined. His mustache tickled Patton’s nose a bit but he leaned into it, humming happily in the back of his throat and feeling like a puzzle piece clicked into place.

Virgil only gave them a minute before he untucked his face from Patton’s neck and grouched that he wanted a turn. Remus let Patton go with a very put-upon sigh that didn’t match his playful grin, flicking Virgil on the nose lightly. “You gotta give him his kisses or he’ll never shut the fuck up,” he fake-whispered.

Patton grinned and turned readily to Virgil, and his lips met Patton’s in a much gentler dance. His kiss was no less deep or passionate for its caution, and his hands cupped his face like he feared Patton would float away if he didn’t hold tight. His fingers curled and twitched upwards like they wanted to bury themselves in his hair but didn’t want to overstep, so Patton took the initiative to grip the back of his neck and tilt his own head to encourage Virgil to do what he wished.

Janus was more patient, waiting for them to part for breath a few minutes later before taking hold of Patton’s chin from Virgil without a word and gently but firmly turning Patton towards him. Janus’ kiss could only be described as a caress, light and teasing and peppered with soft nips to his bottom lip before building up to something more solid. His warm hands rubbed calmingly up and down Patton’s spine and over his shoulders like he couldn’t figure out where he wanted to touch first.

Remus soon demanded he get another shot, then Virgil wanted another, then Janus again, leaving Patton so beyond cloud 9 he could barely think any more. They spent at least 20 minutes there on the floor, lost in each other, rotating kisses that were long overdue, letting their actions make the confessions their words hid from for years, not daring to move and break the spell of the moment.

Then a camera shutter sounded, paired with a bright flash of light that made them all jolt and look up in surprise.

“I said communicate you know, not make out on the floor,” Logan sighed, digging through his wallet to pull a 20 out to hand to Roman, who was grinning victoriously.

“I’m sorry for being a dick, but I had to do something and I told Logan the “accidental slip” would work,” Roman said as he pressed a triumphant kiss to Logan’s cheek and pocketed the 20, “But you have to admit it was a pretty great performance on my part.”

“Can’t believe I was betrayed by my best friends, I don’t know whether I owe you a scolding or a fruit basket,” Patton lamented playfully, cheeks hurting from how wide he was smiling. Janus ruined what little remained of the facade even more as he shifted slightly and pulled him into his lap and Patton clung tight to Virgil and Remus’ hands, with no intention of disconnecting any time soon.

#IntruAnaMoCeit #patton/dark sides #patton/remus/janus/virgil #polyamsanders #ts fic #i had no idea how to tag this #all sides #remus mention

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ssa-babygirl · 3 years

Text

Out of My League [Part 4]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: ~3.2k

Summary: Why on Earth does everyone think you and Spencer are dating? That’s just ridiculous! Right?

Warning(s): the pining is strong with this one, alcohol consumption, i think there were like one or two swear words?? pretty tame

Author’s Note: OH MY GOD WE’RE BACK AGAIN!!!!! yeah it’s been WAyy too long I’m so sorry guys. ON THE BRIGHT SIDE!!! I’m almost done with the next part so the wait won’t be NEARLY as bad this time around. Ok love yall hope you like it!!!

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

The play was a lovely way to spend your evening. You could hear Spencer beside you muttering the words along with the actors. The monologues were beautiful coming from the talent on stage, but it was nothing compared to your best friend’s whispers when he thought you couldn’t hear him. You looked straight ahead to the stage, fearing that he’d stop if you indicated that you were listening, but you still felt his eyes on you as he gently uttered, “I’ll follow thee and make a heaven of hell, to die upon the hand I love so well.”

Hearing the words you had read and swooned over countless times before coming from Spencer’s soft voice made a shiver run down your spine.

Spencer Reid did not just give you chills, that did not just happen, you told yourself.

The chill that ran across your body contrasted nicely with heat in your face when you felt his gaze roll over your features. You didn’t always like the feeling when someone’s eyes were on you, but something about it being Spencer’s eyes felt… right. You weren’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite, actually. You found yourself being overjoyed in your seat, but you couldn’t tell yourself why.

Or at least you refused to.

When the show ended, Spencer led you out the door you entered from, and you left the library with a dopey smile on your face as you stepped into the chilly autumn night. The sun had gone down during the play and the streetlamps glowed white against the black sky.

“You hungry?” Spencer asked.

“Starving.”

“It’s a little late for dinner, you think we’ll find a place?”

“It’s only eight o’clock, there’s gotta be somewhere.”

“A McDonald’s maybe?”

You laughed harder than you normally would, but his smile when he made his joke pulled an airy giggle from your lungs that you had no control over.

You wandered for blocks, finding restaurants that were still busy with long waits. A cute ice cream shop caught both your eyes from across the street and you and Spencer thought the same exact thing.

Some things really didn’t change since you were kids.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Of course I am, Y/N, why are we still on this side of the street?”

You crossed the road together, way too excited for grown adults to be about having ice cream for dinner. There was a line, but it was only a few people long, so you decided to wait for this more than worth it opportunity. As you approached the store, a young family was leaving. The daughter, a young girl in a pink sweater, was so focused on her cake batter flavored cone, she didn’t realize she dropped her stuffed rabbit. Spencer nearly stepped on it, but he picked it up and called after the family. They didn’t hear him, so he went after them and tapped the father on the shoulder.

“Hi, sorry, I think she dropped this.”

“Oh my goodness, Lucy, you dropped your bunny!” The mother shrieked.

“Thank you so much, really,” said Lucy’s dad, “Say thank you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, sweetheart!” Lucy took the toy from Spencer and smiled.

About ten feet behind the scene, you were losing it. Spencer turned around after the family left and made a face while you laughed your ass off.

“That was the cutest thing I have ever seen!” You giggled as he held the door open for you, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Spencer cracked a smile and bit his lips, gaze dropping to the floor as he blushed.

Okay, maybe that was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

“I miss when Jamie was that little. He was so cute!”

“He’s still a cute kid!” The line moves forward, you’re next up.

“Well, yeah, of course, he is! But now he knows what words mean and that’s not as funny.”

“Children learn through imitation, so it makes sense he copied things you did and said because you're his mom, he looks up to you.”

“He looks up to you, too, you know.” The family in front of you got their ice cream and left, leaving you to order, “Can I get a sugar cone of cookies and cream?” The girl behind the counter nodded and scooped your ice cream. She then turned to a catatonic Spencer, who was staring at you, cheeks flushed and lips parted. He snapped out of it and ordered a cup of rocky road with extra marshmallow fluff on top.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked as you pulled out your credit card.

“Paying for our ice cream, what does it look like?”

“No, I’ll pay—” He reached for his pocket, but was too slow.

“Oops, too late,” you said, swiping your card and smirking. The girl behind the counter smiled and waved to you as you left.

“Did you mean that? Jamie looks up to me?”

You turned to look at Spencer, whose eyes were full of stars as he grinned back at you, “Yeah! Of course, he does!”

“Really?”

“Oh, don’t be so surprised, Spencer, you’re like his real-life superhero. You saved his life, genius, he wants to be just like you.”

“He wants to be a profiler?”

“Not necessarily. He thinks you’re a secret agent. Like a spy.”

Spencer chuckled, “And how do you feel about that?”

“Oh, it’s terrifying, I hate it.”

“Yep,” Spencer spooned some ice cream into his mouth, “That’s what I thought.”

“I mean, Jesus, Spence, I get retroactive heart attacks from all the shit you tell me about your cases, I don’t know if I want my kid getting into that. I’d worry even more than I already do.”

“You worry about me?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“You’re my best friend, genius! Of course, I worry about you!”

You finished your ice creams on the metro and walked home in comfortable silence. As you turned the corner onto your block, you grinned up at Spencer.

“Thanks for playing tour guide today. I had fun. Haven’t gone out with friends since I moved here.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t have any friends here to go out with.”

His eyebrows jumped as he sputtered out a sentence, “Oh. W-well why don’t you come out with the team and me sometime?”

“No, they’re your friends I wouldn’t wanna intrude—”

“You wouldn't be intruding, you're my friend too.”

“Spence—”

“One of my teammates is having a dinner party tomorrow night. He’s a great cook and would love to meet you.”

You dug around your bag for your keys, “I don’t know anyone else on the team!”

“You know JJ! And Derek, too. He’s been asking about you.” Spencer’s eyes dropped to his shoes again as your welcome mat became way more interesting than your face.

“Really?” He pursed his lips and nodded. You thought it over for a moment and decided, “Fine. Text me a time and address.”

His eyes snapped back to yours, “No, I-I’ll pick you up.”

“Woah woah woah, you’re gonna drive me around?” You laughed in disbelief, “Sorry, Doc, I know our whole dynamic has changed a bit ‘cuz we’re both grown-ups now, but I’m not sure either of us is quite ready for that.”

His smile finally flashed back across his face, “Come on, I owe you.”

“For what?”

“You bought the ice cream!” His voice was high pitched.

You matched his tone, “You took me to the Shakespeare library!”

“You took me to McDonald’s 106 times in high school! I’m sure the amount of money you spent on my food could buy the whole gift shop!”

Your jaw fell open, “You counted?”

“I can’t help it!”

You rolled your eyes, failing to fight back a grin, “Goodnight, genius.”

He bit his lips and smiled, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You jam the key in your door and push it open, closing it with your body as you sigh, leaning your head back against it.

“That good, huh?” Said a voice from the living room, causing you to jump.

“Jesus, mom, what are you still doing up?” You sigh, clutching your chest.

“Well, I put Jamie to bed, I figured I’d wait up for you so I can hear about your date!”

“Wh- mom, what are you talking about?”

“With Spencer! How was your date?”

“That wasn’t a date!”

“Really? So you guys just walked around for hours in silence doing nothing?”

“We didn’t just walk around!”

“So what’d you guys do?” She asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Oh my god, mom.”

“You’re not denying anything!”

“Mom!”

“You can tell me, it’s just us girls.”

“He took me to the Shakespeare Library! We got ice cream! That’s it! Nothing happened!”

“Shakespeare Library? Ice cream?” her eyebrows darted up so far it was almost like a cartoon character, “Toots, that’s not nothing!”

“It’s nothing. We just saw a play-”

“What play?”

“Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

Your mother closed her book and tossed it next to her on the couch. “Oh! You mean your favorite! Silly me for thinking this was a romantic outing!”

“It wasn’t!”

“Who paid for the ice cream?”

“I did.”

“Did he offer?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t let him.”

Your mother sighed, “You’re telling me it wasn’t a date, but all I’m hearing is that Spencer thought it was.”

“Then why didn’t he make a move?”

“So many reasons! He’s shy! He’s a gentleman! Maybe he thought you weren’t into him.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you so upset?”

Is everyone a profiler now? God!

“Mom, it’s getting late, I walked the length of the city today, I’m going to bed. You can stay over if you don’t wanna drive, but I’m getting some sleep.”

“Right, you need to be rested for tomorrow night. Got a dinner party to go to!”

“Were you listening?”

“The window was open just a crack, I may have heard some of the conversation.”

“Jesus…”

“What? You’re meeting his friends already, this is big.”

You groaned, dragging your feet up the stairs to your bedroom, changing out of your clothes, and hopping in the shower before cozying up for bed. Whether or not you wanted to admit your mom was right, you knew she was. And that terrified you.

(Spencer’s POV)

I rang the doorbell of her house at exactly 6:30, just like I said I would. Seconds later, the door swung open and revealed her smiling face shimmering with her makeup. I took in her outfit, a cute floral dress reaching the tops of her knees. I tried to make sure my eyes didn’t linger on the neckline for too long when I noticed a thin silver chain resting on her collarbone. A small heart-shaped pendant dangled from it.

“Wow.” Was all I could manage, “You look—”

“Totally overdressed, right? Cuz I can dress this down a bit, I just need to change the shoes and throw on a jacket. You know what? I have another dress upstairs I’ll just cha—”

“No, Y/N, you look…” Beautiful, enchanting, stunning, like the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen, I thought about saying all of that, but instead, I just said, “Great.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” I tried to say it as sincerely as possible, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yep!” She reached around the door to take a denim jacket from a hook on the wall, throwing it over her shoulders, “Lemme just get my purse—” she glanced around the room and cut herself off with a groan.

“What?”

“I left my bag in my room. Here, come inside, it’s chilly out.” She rushed down the hall to hurry up the stairs to what I’d assume was her bedroom. I stepped across the threshold and into the warm home. There was a faint glow of light from the kitchen, where a child’s laugh bubbled from the room. I followed the sound and found Jamie and Mrs. L/N sitting at the table doing a puzzle.

“Oh, hi, Spencer!” She called.

“Doctor Spencer!” Jamie jumped up from his seat and ran to me, wrapping his arms around my legs.

“Hey, little man!” I ruffled his hair and flashed a grin to Y/N’s mom.

I heard the tapping of shoes descending the stairs behind me, “Okay, got everything, you ready?”

I quickly turned around at the sound of Y/N’s voice and saw her smiling at Jamie beside me.

“Goodnight, Jamie-baby, I’ll see you in the morning, okay? Have fun with grandma,” she cooed as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Goodnight!”

“Bye, buddy!”

“Bye, Doc!”

“Have fun you two, be safe!” Y/N’s mom grinned as she waved us away.

“Oh my god, mom, stop.”

“Okay! Goodnight, my loves!”

“Goodnight!”

Y/N marched out the door and followed the path down to the street, where my car was parked.

“Last chance, Doc, want me to drive instead?”

I passed her to open the passenger side door for her, “Not a chance, I promised.”

“What a gentleman! Now let’s see if we make it there in one piece first.”

The laugh I let out was half-mockery, half-nerves, as I was not the best driver. I had a Ph.D. in engineering and understood more about physics than most people, but that doesn’t mean I knew how to focus well enough to apply that knowledge. When it is literally impossible for me to forget that I have a 1 in 96 chance of dying in a car accident, my hypervigilance does more harm than good.

“So who am I meeting? Who’s on your team?”

My anxieties were somewhat quelled by the sound of her voice, allowing me to pull my thoughts away from the possibility of becoming one of the 20% of fatal car crashes that occur in intersections.

“Well, you already know JJ and Garcia. Hotch, my boss—”

“Tall, dark, handsome? Never smiles?”

I chuckled, “That’s the guy.”

“He seems fun at parties.”

“He’s actually not that bad. Just a bit too serious sometimes.”

“Okay, and who haven’t I met?”

“The host, David Rossi, Emily, you’ll love them.”

“Is Derek coming?”

IQ of 187 and I still don’t think anyone could have explained to me why that upset me as much as it did. It’s not like Y/N was my girlfriend or anything, she was allowed to want Derek, most girls did, so there was no reason for me to be jealous. She wasn’t mine to lose.

“Yeah. He’ll be there.”

We pulled up to Rossi’s mansion a few minutes later, after riding in semi-awkward silence. She waited for me next to her side of the car, not wanting to walk up to the door by herself. I reached out to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder as I drew closer. She gave me a tight-lipped smile before dropping her eyes to the ground between us.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m nervous, what if they don’t like me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, what’s not to love?” I didn’t even realize how much I meant those words at the time, so I doubt she understood how serious I was, but her smile softened and her shoulders relaxed slightly under my touch. I led her up to the front porch and rang the doorbell. Shortly after, Garcia opened the door and beamed at the two of us.

“You’re here! Oh my goodness, so nice to see you again!” She pulled Y/N into a hug that she very quickly accepted.

“Hi, Penelope, good to see you too.” She pulled away and grinned at me, the worry mostly drained from her eyes now.

“Come here, boy genius, you get one too!” She wrapped her arms around my waist and my face found its place in her blonde curls. We all went inside and saw the whole team sitting around a coffee table with glasses of wine in their hands. JJ put her glass on the table and got up from her seat on the cushy leather couch to hug Y/N.

“You’re not one of mine, are you?” Rossi sipped his drink and eyed Y/N.

“Um, this is Y/N, my uh, my friend.” I stammered.

“Ah! You’re the doctor’s little lady friend I’ve heard so much about!” Rossi put his scotch down on the table and crossed the room to kiss her on both cheeks, “Lovely to meet you, bella, I’m—”

“David Rossi. Yes, Spencer’s told me about you. Nice to meet you,” she grinned, shaking his hand.

“Ah,” he scoffed, “call me Dave.”

“What? No fair!” Emily piped up, taking a big sip of wine, “You just met her and she gets ‘Dave’ privileges? I’ve worked with you for months!”

“Emily, look me in the eyes and try to call me Dave.” She looked at him and opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but she just took another sip while JJ and Morgan laughed at her.

Hotch flashed a rare smile to Y/N, “Good to see you again.”

“Yes! Glad it’s under better circumstances, Agent Hotchner.”

“Me too. And please,” he extended a hand to her, “call me Aaron.”

This time it was Morgan who spoke up, “No way! Only Rossi calls you by your first name!”

“And me,” Emily mumbled.

“And now Y/N, too.”

“I’m honored, Aaron.”

Looking at her face now all remaining anxiety had just about vanished. I told her she had nothing to worry about, and now she was finally listening to me. Rossi called us all to the kitchen where he told us to grab a plate so he could serve us before we sat down at the table. He gave us each a plate of his famous spaghetti carbonara before taking his seat at the head of the table. The team all chatted about their lives, as we ate. Hotch showed Y/N pictures of Jack on his phone, Emily probed JJ about Will, Morgan, and Rossi poked fun at me for bringing Y/N, but I just rolled my eyes and tried to ignore them. Plates were cleaned, stories were told, and wine bottles were emptied. Mostly by Emily and Y/N.

JJ was the one to try to cut them off, “Don’t you have to drive this one home?” She gestured to me.

She put her hands up defensively, “He picked me up.”

“Reid, you hate driving!” Garcia pointed out, prompting Morgan to spare a knowing glance to Rossi.

“You do?”

“I don’t hate it, I just prefer not to.” I was a profiler, but that didn’t mean I was a good liar.

“Spence, I offered to drive you.”

I shrugged, “I didn’t mind.”

Her eyes lingered on me for another moment before taking another sip of wine and resuming her conversation with Emily. I knew they’d get along. Towards the end of the night, Rossi proposed a toast.

“To familia.”

Y/N smiled, staying quiet.

“Oh, come on now, you too, bella.” He raised his glass to her and clinked the crystal, “You’re stuck with us now, get over it.”

“I’m not complaining, Dave.” Her words were to Rossi, but she never stopped looking at me. Probably just had a bit too much to drink.

Right?

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @rottenearly @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies @dazzlingnights @uhuhuh @booksarekindaneat @crimeshowtrash

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harryspet · 4 years

Text

a long way down [3] b.barnes & s.rogers

[Warnings] dark bucky barnes x reader, dark steve rogers, violence, death, heavy angst, the walking dead au, slice of life, domestic steve, vaginal sex (wear protection, please)

A/N: I love how this was supposed to be a one-shot and now I’m finding all the ways to make this series longer and add more drama.

ADULT AND TRIGGERING CONTENT AHEAD

In which your world is shaken again and you’re forced to run back to your first safe haven.

word count: 3.4k

series masterlist

T H E N E X T S P R I N G

“She recognizes you,” You said, watching Peter’s eyes widen as the baby smiled up at him. It was currently tummy time in the living room and the two of you laid beside her, watching her explore her environment, “That’s Uncle Peter, right Margot?”

You watched her little fingers wrap around her little toys as she proceeded to put them in her mouth to taste them. Six whole months had passed since she was welcomed to this scary world and she’d already grown so much, “It’s me, Margot. It’s me,” Peter spoke in a cute voice and the baby proceeded to babble something incoherent, “Bet you I can get her to say Peter before she says Mama.”

You rolled your eyes at that as you continued to watch her, “You will be saying Mama first, missy,” You told her though she was only focused on a bright orange ring toy. You could look at her little face for hours on hours. You hadn’t felt true love until you laid eyes on her.

The long journey it took you to get here only made you love her more. You were lucky that she didn’t come too early. God forbid you needed a c-section or she was facing the wrong way. You wanted her to survive and that’s all you hoped and prayed for. When you lost too much blood and began to pass out, you were still happy knowing she’d be okay.

You didn’t think you would make it. Sharon did her best to give you the best care she could but modern medicine wasn’t available to you. You were sick and on bed rest for the first two months she was alive so now you were enjoying the time when you could move around with her. During the time you were unconscious, Steve had made the considerate decision to name the baby Margaret after some long lost love.

Margaret Rogers.

You refused to call her that and decided on a nickname of your own choosing.

“C’mere, Margot,” You sat up, lifting the baby into your lap, “Let me show you something cool, Peter.”

Peter sat up too, his eyes confused as you removed one of her little socks. She was still happily waving around the toy as you ran a finger down the sole of her foot. Her little toes spread out like a little fan, “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Peter declared and you giggled.

“It’s called the Babinski reflex. It might go away as early as twelve months so I’m going to savor the cuteness,” You encouraged Peter to try it too and the boy seemed to swoon over Margot. You moved the baby into his lap, continuing to tell him about all the little milestones that Margot was passing.

“She’s like a sponge, it’s amazing,” Peter said, bouncing the little girl in his lap, “Do you get any sleep?”

You nodded, “I’m up by five every morning but I’m used to it now. If she wakes up while I’m sleeping, Steve takes care of her. Luckily, she’s sleeping through the night.”

“Such a sweet girl,” Peter cooed, “I’m sure you’d never cause Mommy any problems.” You were lucky that Margot’s temperament was easy. She got frustrated like all other babies but she wasn’t very sensitive. You thought it meant she’d do well in a world like this.

The two of you spent more time with Margot but your peace and serenity was interrupted when both Steve and Bucky returned home. You always got the feeling that they disliked Peter being around but that never stopped you from being friends with him. Peter probably cared more for you then both of them combined.

“It’s getting late, son,” You heard Steve say, his deep voice trying to be as authoritarian as it could. Steve scared Peter, you could tell that much.

“I’ll go then,” Peter rushed out, handing the little girl back to you. Margot seemed a bit upset at his absence and you held her to you in order to keep her calm. You knew it was useless to argue about this with Steve and you doubted Bucky would have your back.

You stood up from your place on her baby blanket, using Margot’s hand to wave goodbye, “Say bye-bye, Peter,” The little girl only mumbled something incoherent, “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Margot. Goodbye, Y/N,” Peter smiled before walking out of the living room. The room went silent as Peter made his way to the front door and tension only increased

Steve walked over to greet his daughter, lifting her from your arms, “Hello, honey-bear,” Margot’s mood seemed to lift again as she recognized her Daddy and Steve’s hard exterior softened. When they were together, it reminded you how alike they looked. He lifted the giggling girl, taking a whiff of her bottom, “You need a change, don’t you?”

“I can do it-”

Steve interrupted you, “No, I’ve got it. Daddy’s gonna change you, yes he is.”

“Wash your hands please,” You told Steve who was too focused on the tiny creature. As Steve walked away to climb the stairs, your eyes met with Bucky’s. Although you liked that he was forced to face the consequences of his actions, you knew that he was still chasing your affection. He was facing his demons in order to get closer to you.

“Catch anything good?” You asked, leaning down to collect all the toys. There was a lake just outside the compound limits that Steve and Bucky frequented for their “time to just be a man” where they liked to go fishing.

“Nothing alive,” Bucky said, following you as you walked into the kitchen. You put the toys into the sink, turning the warm water on in order to clean them. Bucky leaned against the counter and you felt his gaze burning into you, “It’s still pretty peaceful out there, we didn’t run into any walkers. I was thinking we could go out there together, you could take a break like you deserve.”

“Go out there and do what?” You asked, your eyes not meeting his.

“I don’t know, have a picnic or something.”

“Or something?” You scoffed, scrubbing at the toys, “Sounds romantic.”

Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line of frustration, “I’m trying here. I’m not good at … romantic stuff.”

“To say the least,” You added, “Bucky, I don’t need or want a break. I’m perfectly content right now.”

“You’re sure about that? You don’t have any other needs begging to be met?” You scowled at him, knowing what he was hinting at. Steve had barely touched you since you started showing and, after the rough birth, he wasn’t willing to rush into trying for a boy.

“I’m sure.”

“Looks like both the girls are down for the night,” Steve said, letting out a sigh as he sat in his desk chair. Bucky sat in the chair in front of Steve’s desk, his feet kicked up on the desk.

“What about Sharon?”

Steve rubbed his temples at the mention of the woman, “She’s been working late at the infirmary. She won’t tell me but I know it’s because my attention has been elsewhere,” Bucky was beginning to doubt Steve’s feeling for Sharon in the first place. It seemed Steve was ready to completely let the woman go due to her infertility, “I don’t really care if she doesn’t come back. Y/N and I can handle things on our own.”

Bucky only nodded, his mind already wandering elsewhere. Steve noted his friend's frustration and wondered why the man continued to bother with you. Even after all this time, Bucky still didn’t have anyone else on his mind, “What’s on your mind, Buck?”

Bucky’s fingers rubbed over his facial hair as he thought, “That Peter kid.”

Right away, Steve understood. It had been a topic they avoided despite knowing how each other felt about it, “What about him?”

“You don’t think he spends a little too much time around here? With your daughter?”

Steve didn’t believe Peter was any real threat to his family here. Steve saw him as a distraction for you. Someone who helped you forget your worries, “This is about her, Buck. You don’t want him around her.”

“Fine,” Bucky threw up his hands in defeat, “I think he’s getting in the way of Y/N letting me in again. She has Peter to be there and tell her everything's going to be alright so she doesn’t need me.”

“Tell her not to see him then. Matter of fact, tell him to stay away,” Steve spoke simply, the solution obvious in his mind.

“If she knows I had something to with it, it’ll make things worse. I have to be the good guy in her eyes.”

Steve smiled, a lightbulb going off in his mind, “Shall I be the bad guy then?”

Bucky moved his feet, leaning forward in his chair, “What are you thinking?”

“I still need someone to replace you. Someone to travel and relay messages between our camp and my allies. Peter could fill the position for the time being,” Bucky didn’t think over it long before he agreed. All that was on his mind was winning you back and this would only help his cause, “I need to keep up appearances around here anyways. We don’t need some kid running around here with our girls, right?”

“Right,” Bucky said, his mind on you, “Thanks, Steve.”

“No need, Buck. We have to look out for each other. Besides that, I think it's a good time to ask you to be my second in command.”

Margot was a complete celebrity in Liberty. You couldn’t walk on the street without people coming up to wave or to get a look at her. Margot was good with strangers which only solidified her position as princess of this place.

It was a sunny spring day and you had dressed her in a floral dress and a pink bow. You carried her in one hand and held a tupperware of deserts in the other hand. Sam wasn’t far behind but that hadn’t changed in the past year.

“We’re going to find uncle Peter, yes we are,” You cooed to the little girl who was energized from her latest nap, “And he’s going to love the cookies we made him.”

You eventually got to the barracks where Steve’s group of soldiers usually stayed, you walked through the long lines of bunk beds to find his. As you passed some men, all of them burly and intimidating, they even waved hello to your little one.

As you approached Peter’s bunk you found it empty, only a mattress sitting on top of the metal. All of his comics and textbooks were nowhere to be found. You searched around for the nearest person and found a group of older men playing some dice game, “Excuse me, do you know where Peter Parker is today? He slept over there,” You asked, pointing to Peter’s bunk.

“Packed up early this morning,” The man said, “Think he got reassigned.”

“Reassigned where?” You asked.

“Something outside of the compound. Poor kid.”

Your heart started pounding heavily as you turned back to Sam, “Take me to Steve. Now.”

“He’s on duty-”

“Find him and take me to him, Sam.”

Margot was screaming in your eyes mostly because she sensed how upset you were. As soon as you approached Steve, he swooped the little girl into his arms, trying to calm her, “What the hell are you doing?” Steve asked. He came down from one of the watchtowers, a rifle still strapped to his back, as he saw you approaching with Sam.

“Peter? Where did you send him?”

Steve sighed, “Y/N-”

“Where did you send him?” You shouted back.

“I needed a new emissary and he volunteered to do it,” Steve stated simply.

“By himself? He’s a kid, Steve!” Margot cried louder but your blood was boiling, “You’re going to get him killed!”

“We all have to earn our keep around here, Y/N. Some people put their lives on the line for a chance to live here and then people like you spread your legs for it. That’s how it works, sweetheart.”

“You’re a fucking monster,” You spat at him.

Bucky scoured the camp looking for you for a good hour. You were sitting at the bottom of a big tree, staring out into a small field. Where the field ended, the wall began. Bucky startled you when he suddenly appeared and you were quick to try and wipe away your tears.

He took a seat beside you, leaning his back against the tree. This area of the camp was peaceful, it was no wonder that you had taken a liking to it.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your face in a frown.

“I thought you didn’t need a break,” Bucky said, avoiding your question.

“This isn’t a break,” You said softly, “You’re supposed to feel relaxed on a break-” As your voice cracked and the tears started falling again, Bucky wrapped an arm around your soldier. You leaned into him and sobbed into his shoulder.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” You tried to speak as you choked on your sobs.

“He’ll be back, I promise” Bucky stated, “Probably sooner than you think. The kid can handle himself.”

“He shouldn’t have to. Margot shouldn’t have to,” You said, “It isn’t fair.”

Bucky rubbed your shoulder, drawing lines on your skin with his fingers, “I know, doll.”

It was like losing your family all over again. It was worse than losing them. At least you knew they were dead. You wouldn’t know if he was alive or dead and, if something happened, you wouldn’t even know how it happened. There were so many things outside of the walls that could get you killed.

You pulled away from Bucky gently, realizing how long it had been since you’d been in his arms. Looking into those blue eyes gave you a weird sense of familiarity. Of home, “Maybe you could talk to Steve? For me?”

Bucky nodded, “Of course, doll.”

You stared at his moment and Bucky noted the way your gaze traveled to your lips. Bucky reached over to wipe a tear from your cheek. He couldn’t hide how attracted to you he was, even when you were crying. Bucky placed a soft, hesitant kiss on your cheek, “Everything’s going to be okay. All I should worry about is your little one.”

You took a deep breath, nodding in agreement.

It must’ve been the emotions or the off-balance hormones because, when Bucky leaned into your lips, you didn’t stop him. In fact, you welcomed that touch. The soft kisses soon became more desperate and hungry. Your lips were angry, demanding as they moved against his.

It shocked Bucky as much as it did to you. Bucky was elated but he had little time to celebrate you being back in his clutches. You were hungry for something and he was going to make sure you were satisfied.

Bucky pulled you into his lap and, as you straddled him you said, “Just this once.”

“Just this once,” Bucky agreed, knowing the opposite would be true.

Your lips devoured each other and Bucky explored your mouth with his hands pulled down the straps of your sundress. As your breast sprang free, he palmed them his hand. The cold of his metal hand sent shivers down your spine but Bucky warmed you again with his mouth. He played with your nipple in his mouth causing you to bite down on your lips.

Your hands ran through his hair as you savored the feeling. As he moved his mouth away, his head tilted up at you, “You’re so beautiful,” Bucky said and you rolled your eyes, leaning down to undo his belt and zipper.

“Just fuck me, okay?” Bucky grabbed you by your ass roughly pulling you into him. He reached under your dress, tucking your underwear to the side as he positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel how hard he already was and the idea of him filling you up was making your mouth water with anticipation.

As you slowly impaled yourself on his cock, your mouth was agape. You realized how full he made you fill, how complete you felt. Bucky held your hips as you began to bounce up and down. Bucky groaned huskily, loving how your face contorted to different expressions as the pleasure went through you.

As you tried to contain your moans, Bucky placed kisses along your jaw and then on your neck. He felt all your anger and sadness as you used it as motivation, moving your body hard against his.

The two eventually met your climaxes together, your body shaking as you rode out the rest of the wave. You breathed heavily, leaning against his body. You tucked your head into his shoulder and Bucky simply wrapped his arms around you.

“Say you won’t leave again,” You whispered.

“I won’t leave you ever again, doll.”

The next day you awoke beside Bucky. You watched him as he slept peacefully, his hand over his shirtless chest and his chest slowly rising and falling. That “just this once” had turned into four times which you were sure he was happy with. You had to admit that you didn’t have that morning-after regret that you expected. Bucky had done such horrible things to you and yet he managed to bring you joy like no other.

You hated that you ran back after resisting for so long but, without Peter, you were once again feeling completely lost. Being with Bucky reminded you of simpler times and, despite the hell you knew it would bring, it was worth it just to feel that comfort.

Suddenly, you heard commotion coming from downstairs, glass shattering and Steve’s booming voice traveled through the air. You shook Bucky awake as you began to throw on some clothes, “Bucky, something’s going on!” You threw on some boots and Bucky put on a t-shirt before the two of you filed out of your room.

You heard your little girl wailing and you followed the sound. You found the front door wide open and quickly ran out of it. As you moved down the porched steps, the sight before you stopped your heart. Steve was holding Margot in one hand and a pistol in the other. A pistol that was pointing at a begging and pleading Sharon.

Bucky tried to grab your hand but you ran towards him, “Steve, what the hell are you doing?” Your eyes widened even more as you noticed that Margot had no clothes on except for a checkered dishtowel and her skin was wet.

Steve handed you the child but kept the gun pointed at the woman. By now, everyone had filed out of their homes and were watching the chaos, “She tried to drown our baby,” Was all he said, shaking with anger.

“I-I would never!” Sharon shouted back, her hands up as she laid on the gravel, “Please-”

“I fucking saw you!” Steve shouted back and you felt Bucky’s arm pulling you away. You stepped back with him, knowing that if the gun went off that you didn’t want Margot anywhere near it.

Your eyes connected with Sharon’s and there was only pure hatred there. She didn’t even look sorry for what she was being accused of, “I was helping! I was taking care of her! You know me, Steve!”

Steve didn’t believe her and you hated that you didn’t either. Was she really capable of something like this? All because of jealousy? Jealousy over a life that you didn’t even want.

“You weren’t even supposed to be in my house!” You watched as Steve cocked the gun, “You’re lucky I walked in when I did. If you had gotten away with hurting my little Margaret, I would’ve dismembered you piece by piece and I would've enjoyed it. Consider this a blessing.”

“Steve, don’t-” You pressed yourself into Bucky, trying to protect the crying child in your arms as the gun went off and the blonde woman fell limp.

Steve tucked the weapon into his belt, his muscle still tense, as he tried not to contain whatever emotions were coursing through him, “Early start today. Everyone get to work!” Steve shouted to every citizen who was listening, “And get her body off my fucking street!”

Silence fell over the small town of Liberty.

Hope you enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts and predictions!

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istoleyourboat · 4 years

Text

Monster!Nene and Jealous Research A

In which a grown up Monster!Nene has a talk with Researcher A

“Ahhhh, isn’t he sooo handsome,” Nene swooned.

Amane rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that day. For God’s sake, was she obsessed. So what if Teru was the handsomest monster to come from the lab? As good-looking as he was, Amane didn’t miss the dirty and watchful eyes of his auburn companion. With how close Akane kept his spiked bat, it looked like he was ready to bludgeon Teru at the drop of a hat.

But that all seemed lost on Yashiro, whose eyes kept gleaming with admiration the longer she stared at Teru’s picture.

The beleaguered researcher huffed and crossed his arms, sitting back in disbelief. He’d grown used to her besotted antics a while ago, but it was always that blond monster that pushed his buttons the most. If he had known young adult Yashiro was going to be so lovesick, he would’ve stolen her away from Tsukasa more when she was still a child.

“Just why do you like him so much, Yashiro?” he asked. “Is it really just ‘cause you find him pretty?”

It was honestly something he wanted to know. Out of all the people, humans and monsters alike, why’d she have to like that scary prick?

Turning his head towards Yashiro, he expected her to breathe a little fire. She always did when she got too excited.

Instead, he was met with the sight of her on her knees, hair flowing down her back as she doodled onto a piece of paper Amane had given her earlier.

“Well… He’s a monster like me…” she whispered, fingers fiddling with the hem of her skirt. “If there’s anyone who can find me beautiful, it’d be him.”

Amane’s not sure why that line stung so much. Yashiro was fine- more than fine! She could breathe fire! She could punch holes into walls! And she had the most adorable set of daikon legs… People would have to be blind to not see just how strong and extraordinary she was.

He approached her calmly, crouching next to her as he stole her pencil and drew a little cartoon of her.

“Well you know, Yashiro…” he whispered in her ear. Crossing out her little chibi doodle of Teru, he added a little daikon and a heart. “I think you’re fine the way you are.”

When he backed away to look at her, she was as red as the flames she wrought and she looked just as ready to combust.

“Yashiro?-“

Flames spewed out of her, burning the paper and his other research notes to a crisp.

Thus marked the second time Yashiro burned down the facility.

#kamome monster nursery #hananene

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thefudge · 4 years

Note

Do you have any Romanian (language or just content-wise) media recs? Particularly novels and poetry but really any must-sees/must-reads are welcome!

uuuu!

my brain is too fried right now to do any kind of exhaustive list so i’m gonna rec a few things that i know you could get your hands on/available in translation:

for two thousand years, by mihail sebastian - really heartbreaking yet also lucid, adventurous and darkly humorous memoir of a Jewish writer in his youth at the height of nazism in romania (there’s even a Penguin classic of it)

diary of a short-sighted adolescent by mircea eliade - a funny and bittersweet bildungsroman about a bookish teenager who wants to read everything now and be the cleverest person alive while also struggling with being super lazy and unmotivated because he’s young and restless, it’s very #relatable. but it’s also fascinating to read this in opposition with “for two thousand years” because eliade entertained legionnaire nazi sympathies at one point. (also, you should check out his novellas too, especially the fantastic ones)

anything you can find in translation by gabriela adamesteanu - just lovely, delicate prose about growing up, being an adult, inhabiting your body and your feelings in an oppressive world

the hatchet by mihail sadoveanu (apparently, there is a translation) - a lot of people give this novel flak, mostly because we had to read it in high school, but it’s a great and deceptively simple little novel that says a lot more about people than it cares to admit. the action takes you through several villages in the East-Carpathians, where a peasant woman goes in search of her missing husband. it’s a fascinating mixture of crime and folklore and mythology.

any novella by costache negruzzi, but especially “alexandru lapusneanu”, another classic we had to read in school and which gets a lot of flak. it’s so bonkers and #quality-trash. let’s just say there’s a scene where the power-hungry voievod/prince lapusneanu enacts a red-wedding situation and builds a pyramid of freshly severed heads to impress his lady wife *swoon*

the forest of the hanged by liviu rebreanu - i know people argue this isn’t his best novel, but it’s got the most heart. it’s the story of a soldier/philosopher in WW1 who falls in love with people again. that’s it. he falls in love with people, and the war and everything in between doesn’t matter anymore. or it matters only as it pertains to people, and people alone.

gallants of the old court by mateiu caragiale - a bizarre gem of early 20th century Romanian nightlife, a wonderful, orgiastic fugue, feverish and infuriating. it’s mostly about rich men and social-climbers getting into existential trouble, but also into real trouble. normally, because the action takes place right before WW1, this would signify the end of an era. but we don’t really have a beginning or end. we are part-balkan, part-french imitators, part-whatever-sticks. nothing moves us, and everything does. and that’s why it’s a sort of love/hate letter to romanians

in terms of poetry, some personal faves: nichita stanescu, ana blandiana, monica pillat, marin sorescu, a.e. baconsky, lucian blaga, emil brumaru, nora iuga, marta petreu, nina cassian. and yes, mihai eminescu, our national poet, though i’m often in two minds about him.

poetry in translation is really hit and miss because of the “untranslatable”, so here’s two lines from a poem by nina cassian, because i want to show you what i mean:

De când m-ai părăsit mă fac tot mai frumoasă ca hoitul luminând în întuneric.

this roughly and poetically translates to:

Since you left me I’ve grown more beautiful

like the corpse lighting the dark

and this is sort of lovely on its own, but you’d need to know and hear and taste the word “hoit” in romanian to really feel the abjectness, because “hoit” is a smelly, ugly yet also alluring, already decomposing version of “cadavru” aka cadaver/corpse. also “ mă fac tot mai frumoasă” cannot be accurately summed up in “i’ve grown more beautiful”. a literal translation would be “I make myself more beautiful”. in romanian, this is obviously idiomatic and not literal. and yet, these strange self-reflexive valences make these lines strong and eerie, as if the speaker were authoring her beauty, shaping it out of clay and darkness and “hoit”, like a butterfly cracking the corpse’s shell to get out, but also retaining some of its mesmerizing stench. why did i pause to do a close-reading of romanian poetry??? anyway, you catch my drift

in terms of movies, a recent one i really loved was sierranevada by cristi puiu, which is a neurotic family drama that drains you but also lifts you up

and yeah, the hype is real, 4 months, 3 weeks and 2 days by cristi mungiu really is that good (about two young women trying to get an illegal abortion in communist romania. it won the palme d’or for very legit reasons. it breaks you in small ways. the very last shot of the film you’ll carry with you forever). i also liked graduation by cristi mungiu, where a young overachieving girl is about to graduate high school and go on to study abroad, until a terrible event unmoors both her and her family. the movie turns almost hallucinatory at one point, filled with ambiguity and a kind of sleep-walking quality

tales from the golden age by cristi mungiu (him again!) is also fantastic for anyone who wants to get a taste of communist romania and the sad-funny absurdities of everyday life. this movie is split in 2 parts and the format is that of an anthology, almost like watching several short films at once. and there is one film in the anthology that always turns me inside out, and it’s really silly, it’s this bonnie and clyde type story about this girl and boy who meet at a party and devise an ingenious get-rich scam and just run around a few neighborhoods trying to put it into practice and it’s...the sweetest, most incomplete thing. there is such a strange, lovely connection there that never gets realized, and there is a MOMENT between them where he helps her step down from this ledge and he holds her briefly to him and i remember being in the cinema and thinking THIS, this is THE MOMENT where i felt these people were real. it was such an honest, lovely moment. like the equivalent of this song. ANYWAY, why am i rambling so much??? this ask was supposed to be SHORT.

aferim! by radu jude is also a really neat movie and provides a look into the historical romanian/rroma relationship and why it’s so messed up, yet also so organic

the death of mr. lazarescu by cristi puiu is also a great little film about a man who gets sick and goes to the hospital. and...dies, as you can tell from the title. on the surface, he dies because of institutional ineptness and a broken healthcare system. at a deeper level, he dies because we no longer know how to help people. various hospital staff in the film do try to help him and fail for various stupid or quietly heartbreaking reasons. it’s a movie about being physically unable to care. there’s indifference, sure, but also this great exhaustion of the human spirit. but the movie is also darkly funny. might not be a great pandemic watch, but then again it might be exactly what you need

there are soooo many other classics in terms of books (morometii by marin preda, for instance, about a patriarch in a small village in the South who slowly realizes the world he used to live in doesn’t have room for him anymore, and maybe it never had) but i’m gonna end on a quote from ion creanga, one of the most cryptic classics of romanian lit:

“Şi eu eram vesel ca vremea cea mai bună şi şturlubatic şi copilăros ca vântul în tulburea sa”

my translation: “and I was cheerful like the best weather and frolicsome and childish like the wind in its cloudiness”

and again, the words in romanian and their particular sound and bite (”şturlubatic”, “tulburea”) immediately take me elsewhere. creanga writes about childhood, but it’s never really childhood. he writes as an adult who, in my opinion, was never really a child, but a weird, small god of the land. i mean the word “tulburea” can mean both “turmoil” and “muddiness”. the wind can be anguished, but also just a little cloudy, just a little hazy, shrinking its agony, howling it in the child. it’s eerie and gorgeous. so, that’s what he does: creanga writes about children as if they were wind-like spirits. he writes stories about devils and the peasants who trick them and school books filled with spit and flies, and warm eggs stolen from nests and fairy-tales of a world that is buried somewhere inside us, but not too deep, things hidden under our clothes or nails or even in our hair. and it’s all so physical and convoluted, just like his prose. and i don’t think anyone will ever make sense of him and that’s what makes him so discombobulatingly great.

anyway, this was supposed to be...like, really short! and not gassy! i’m sorry. i love waxing about all this gay stuff. i’m so gay about it.

realistically tho, the nearest thing you’ll find in your local bookshop is probably books by famous ‘theater of the absurd’ playwright, eugen ionesco, or novels in translation by contemporary author mircea cartarescu. both are pretty good, so go for it! (if you want to start small, i’d recommend REM by mircea cartarescu, because it’s so trippy and meta and captures that summer holiday eeriness so well. it goes well with this romanian song sung in english)

okay byeeeee

#romanian lit #recs #romanian literature #reference #my thoughts #romanian cinema #i hope no actual romanians come across this list and eviscerate me haha #im sorry this is such....MUCH

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shyneanon · 3 years

Text

And our boy MF Sans too. Here’s the next chapter of The Boss’s Daughter. This story is way too fun to write. Like Skeleton Magnet, it’s on AO3.

Enjoyyy.

---

Once your lunch date with Mindy was over, the both of you walked back to your house and gave each other a goodbye hug. When you went inside, your parents asked you how it was and you told them it was good, leaving out any details about Sans or Mindy’s teasing (though you often had to omit details about Mindy’s sense of humor). You then gently and carefully brought up the subject of going dancing, leaving out that the place was a speakeasy, and you humbly asked for their permission to go.

They said yes.

You were so thrilled you threw your arms around your father and thanked him profusely, which seemed to convince him that he had made the right decision.

Mindy was ecstatic when you called her and told her you’d been given permission. She insisted that you should get yourself a new dress for your first time out, and you had to admit, you didn’t mind that idea. So you agreed to join each other for a shopping date on Friday.

Unfortunately, her parents dragged her into some social meeting of their own at the last minute, meaning you’d be doing your shopping by yourself. Perhaps it was for the best; knowing Mindy, she would probably have tried to convince you to buy something more scandalous than you would like to wear. The flappers’ dresses were very cute, but you weren’t sure how eager you were to sparkle so much. Not to mention that your father would rather burn the money for it than allow you to wear it. Instead you would look for something a bit less flashy.

Being out without anyone, even Mindy, felt liberating. You were shocked your father had allowed it— although it was in the middle of the day, and you were being driven to the destinations you chose. He wasn’t about to let you walk around town completely unsupervised. Rival gangsters did know what you looked like.

Eventually you found a dress you enjoyed; it was form-fitting, but not so much that there would be protests. It was also a nice bright blue, with darker blue sequins adorning it in a very pretty design all across the front and back. It was a nice balance between the flashy flapper dresses and the more boring, grown-up dresses you wore for formal gatherings. It took you a few tries to find the right size, but once you did, it fit very nicely. So you purchased it and left. You had to admit, the feeling of being able to splurge was quite nice.

You would miss it when you finally left the horrible environment you’d been raised in.

You decided to step outside and enjoy the relatively fresh air, sitting down on a bench. You kept imagining how amazing it would be to be somewhere where your father wouldn’t be able to see you. Just you, having fun as an adult with Mindy. Drinking alcohol, dancing… There would be boys there. Probably boys who weren’t criminals at all— besides drinking bootleg liquor, anyway.

Some of them probably didn’t even know how to use a gun.

Swoon.

A pigeon started to make its way past you, eyeing you suspiciously. You snickered, your worries forgotten for a brief moment. If only you had some sort of food on you to give it. Not that it didn’t look well-fed— it was a particularly fat pigeon.

You wondered what it was like to have worked for what you had.

The pigeon suddenly started as a pair of only mostly-polished black business shoes appeared in your field of vision. It immediately flew off.

Oh God no.

You didn’t even bother to look. You knew who it was. “Maybe Mindy was onto something. Are you stalking me?”

“Nah, doll. I think yer the one stalkin’ me.”

The weight of the bench shifted slightly. You turned to glare at Sans, who had leaned back and was making himself quite comfortable next to you on the bench. He had a cigar between two fingers.

“Do you need something?” you asked him.

He smiled. “Penny for yer thoughts?” he asked before placing his cigar in between his teeth.

You leaned back and folded your arms in an attempt to look as standoffish as possible. “I was just thinking that that pigeon was almost as fat as you are.”

He immediately choked on his cigar, so violently his hat almost fell off his head. He started coughing, and you felt your lips curl into a smug smile.

The smile vanished when he wheezed and then roared with laughter. He leaned forward in his seat, slapping his knee. Initially, you were annoyed. You couldn’t even insult him? He would just laugh?

But as his absolutely stupid guffawing continued, you found yourself biting down on your lip to keep from smiling. That didn’t work, so you tried biting the insides of your cheeks. That didn’t work either.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, his eyes full of mirth, “ya really hate me, don’tcha?” Raising his brows at you, he added, “So much that ya think about me when I’m not around, huh?”

Goddammit! How had he managed to turn the tables? You wanted to glare but you were still smiling. So instead you just said, “Have you not learned to not speak to me?”

“I don’t do much learnin’, sweetie.”

“Clearly.”

He laughed again. It didn’t seem to be at you, though. Why did his laugh have to be so funny?

Still smiling, he looked down and nodded at the bag sitting by your feet. “What’s in there?”

You shrugged. “A new dress.”

“Yeah? Will I get to see ya in it?”

You gave him a bitter smile, though at this point you weren’t sure if it was sincere. “In your dreams,” you told him.

“Absolutely in my dreams,” he said, winking.

You felt your face get hot. You wanted to scream. How? How did he turn your own words against you?

“What’s the occasion?”

He was still looking at the bag. Without much thought, you said, “I’m going out dancing tomorrow.” The corner of your mouth quirked up in a smile. “It’s my first time.”

“Didn’t think you were one to party.”

“I don’t because I can’t,” you told him. “My father doesn’t want boys talking to me.” Raising your eyebrows, you added, “Like you, for example.”

“I know that.”

“No, you obviously do not,” you said. If he really understood the gravity of it, he would stay the hell away like everyone else. “He will have some men find you, and they will riddle you with bullets. Or he’ll kidnap you and riddle you with bullets himself.”

His eye sockets lidded, and the lights in them seemed to dilate. A lot. He removed the cigar from in between his teeth.

“I know,” he growled, and the sound seemed to roll through the bench, through you.

You just stared, baffled.

“And I don’t care,” he added. Your brow furrowed. Did this man have any self-preservation instincts whatsoever—

His arm rested behind you on the bench, and you glanced back and forth between it and him. He was giving you the same look from the night you met. You felt your face heat up, but you kept a stern look on your face.

He leaned close, looking you dead in the eyes. It was like some kind of insane staring contest that only one party member was enjoying.

An inhale from him.

“You’re wearing different perfume,” he observed, his smile growing.

“You are going. To die.”

He only moved closer to you on the bench. You were tempted to try reverse psychology, but you had the feeling that telling him you wanted him wouldn’t end well for you either.

The two of you were so close, that when he spoke in a low whisper, you could hear every word perfectly:

“Your Papa can shoot me dead as long as I can have you,” he rumbled, his teeth almost touching your lips. “Just once. ‘N then I can die.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you asked.

He grinned that predatory grin, though the way his eyes lidded looked more drunk than anything.

“Sweetheart…. you’re what’s wrong with me.”

The lights in his eyes dropped down to your lips and he leaned so close that your cheeks brushed against each other. He was clearly moving to kiss you. Your heart started to race for some unfathomable reason, and the sensation frightened you.

You slapped him across the face.

He withdrew, rubbing his cheek. If only it could be red where you’d slapped him. That would be satisfying.

“Fuck, that fuckin’ hurt,” he muttered, as if he’d lightly bumped his head against something.

“Good!” you replied.

“OK, OK,” he said. “‘M sorry. I’m really sorry.”

He made eye contact with you as he said it. You blinked, then resumed your stony expression. “For what?”

“Fer flirtin’ with ya just now.”

“And how do I know you mean that?”

“I do actually like ya,” he said. “Not just…” He gestured to your form. “I like ya, yer smart. And fun, when yer not mad at me.”

“I’m mad,” you said, “because you just won’t stay away. There are so many other girls, you can go and talk to them instead.”

“I don’t wanna, though. I wanna talk to you.”

You watched him, and he watched you back. Did he mean that? Or was he just saying it so that he could smooth things over with you now, and then try again the next time you saw each other?

You took a breath.

“If you’re not lying to me,” you said, “then you’re forgiven.”

He smiled sincerely, looking more sensitive than usual. “Thank you, doll.”

“You should be thankful, you absolute idiot.”

He chuckled again. “You tell it like it is. I like ya for that.”

Well, you weren’t used to anyone liking brutal honesty. You felt the tension in your body dissolve just a bit.

“No lies,” he said, his look sobering. “There’s just… so much lyin’. ‘N cheating. ‘M no exception or nothin’, I just… It’s nice to talk about it with someone who won’t lie to you.” He smiled gently. “Y’know?”

For a moment, you said nothing. Was he trying to soften you up?

It was awful that you were even having to worry about that.

“I wouldn’t know,” you told him, though it came out far more vulnerable than you meant it to.

His smile faded. “... Yeah.”

You stood up, grabbing your bag. “I should go,” you said. “My parents will worry if I’m gone for too long.”

He moved to get up.

“No, you don’t have to do that.”

He paused. You thought a moment, then grinned.

“You just keep resting your fat ass on the bench.”

He snorted and laughed big belly laughs again, falling back into his seat. “Jesus,” he muttered, still smiling. “Yer great.”

It felt good to be able to say whatever you wanted.

He nudged your leg with his foot. “Hey.”

You were smiling now. “Mm?”

“Have fun dancin’ tomorrow, huh?”

Not able to put on a firm expression, you just nodded. “Thanks, Sans. You have a good time lying around doing nothing.”

He snickered, and you turned around and left.

***

When you got back home, you found your mother in hopes of showing her the dress you’d bought. She was reading in the living room, so you got her attention.

“Mama,” you said, “look at this dress I found.”

You pulled it out and showed it to her, and she smiled.

“You seem excited,” she said.

“I am!” you told her. You were going out for once.

“I’m glad.”

You admired the dress’s fabric.

“You’ll look very nice at dinner tomorrow.”

You blinked, your smile faltering. “Dinner?”

“Adolfo called, and your father invited him over for dinner tomorrow.” She shrugged with an amused smile. “He forgot about the dancing. You know he does that.”

Forgot, or had changed his mind and done this to keep you from going out? You weren’t sure, but you were angry either way. “So I’m just supposed to call Mindy and tell her I can’t come?”

“Yes.”

“No!” you said. “I’m not doing that!”

Her look grew stern. “(Y/n), finding you a husband is more important than—“

“I don’t want one of these men for a husband!” you told her. “They’re all horrible people! Every single one!”

“So I suppose your father is.”

“I never said anything about Father! But all the men I could marry are murderers, and liars, and cheats—“

She said your name harshly. You knew that tone. She was serious.

She set her book down and stood up from her seat. “We’ve had this talk too many times. You need to grow up.”

Your jaw clenched.

“You know as well as I do that you need to marry one of these ‘murderers, liars and cheats.’” She sobered. “You can’t just walk away from this life. No one can. Don’t pretend you don’t know what will happen if you try to walk away like it’s nothing. You know, don’t you?”

You said nothing.

“The rival gangs will find you and either kill you, or use you against your father. And then kill you when you are no longer of use to them.” She cocked her head. “And as much as many men don’t want to admit it, they need us. Our family is counting on you to marry someone who can continue building this business. You need to accept the life you’ve been given.”

Your chest was burning. You wanted to curse, and tell her that fuck that, fuck Adolfo, fuck everything, you didn’t care if your father’s business burned to the ground. And that you would rather get shot by a rival gang than be stuck for the rest of your miserable life raising children who would either become criminals or the wives of criminals.

But instead you sighed.

“I’ll go call Mindy,” you said, albeit through gritted teeth.

“Thank you,” said your mother.

You picked up your bag and went upstairs to your room, locking the door behind you. You hung the dress up neatly, and then sat on your bed, by the phone.

You reached into your purse and fished out the card that Sans had given you.

Blinded by sheer rage at your parents and at that ass Adolfo, you dialed the number and then waited.

The voice that picked up was loud and harsh. Papyrus.

“PAPYRUS AND SANS, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. THIS IS PAPYRUS. WITH WHOM DO I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF SPEAKING?”

Before you could stop yourself, you snorted and started to laugh. Lawyers? Really? You wondered if that had been Sans’ idea.

You hoped so.

“... WHO IS THIS?”

“Sorry,” you said, and gave him your name. “May I speak to Sans, please?”

There was a moment of silence.

“GODDAMMIT, SANS, YOU COMPLETE IMBECILE!”

He instantly hung up, and you stared at the phone, confused. You dialed them again, but no one picked up. The small spark of hope that you’d had started to flicker out. You just sat on your bed for God knows how long, feeling it die.

Had you said something wrong?

The phone rang and you instantly picked up. “Yes? Hello?”

“Hey, dollface.”

You never thought his voice would give you such a rush of relief. “Hi, Sans.”

“Sorry about that, sweetheart. Papyrus doesn’t exactly like me talkin’ to ya.”

You heard Papyrus’ shrill voice screaming in the background, though you couldn’t make out what he was saying.

“No one likes it,” you told him with a smile.

“Well, clearly you do, beautiful. What can I do you for, hm? Feeling phonely?”

You tried to hold back a snicker, but it came out anyway. You then composed yourself, going so far as to sit up straighter in bed.

“Remember when we met?” you asked, doing your best to sound serious.

“Do I?” he purred, and you were glad he couldn’t see your red face. “What about it, dollface?”

“And you told me that you could leave the party without having to walk out the door?”

“Yeah.” You heard a mischievous tone in his voice as he said, “Why do you ask?”

You hesitated. The rage was starting to fade away.

You forced yourself to picture Adolfo’s stupid mug again and you quickly felt the fire you needed to continue.

“Doll?”

“My parents are forcing me not to go dancing because Adolfo Acerbi wants to have dinner with us.”

There was a moment of silence on his end this time.

“Sans?” you said.

“Acerbi, huh?” He sounded like he’d said it through gritted teeth (weird, considering he always spoke through closed teeth).

“Yeah, him. He’s a lying shit,” you told him, taking the opportunity to swear. “And I fucking hate him, and he just ruined my chance to go out for once.” After a moment of more hesitation, you told him what you wanted:

“I want you to help me sneak out after dinner tomorrow. I’m not letting Acerbi ruin my night.”

Another moment of silence, and then Sans replied.

“I can do that.”

#Every time Sans shows up #MC is like FFFFUUUUU #fanfiction #fanfic #reader-insert #self-insert #mafiafell sans #sans x reader #mafiafell #mf sans #the boss's daughter #the boss' daughter

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ererokii · 4 years

Text

Red Festival || Eijirou Kirishima

Eijirou Kirishima x Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of death, cursing

Word Count: 3027

Synopsis: The bittersweet Strawberry Festival approaches again, leaving Kirishima to be locked up in his own thoughts.

Taglist (message to be added): @shoutodoki @shoutosteakettle @saltie @fryingpanitachi @sugacookiies @kingtamakimurder @pixxiesdust

➺ Note: This is for the @bnhabookclub’s bingo event! The prompt is Strawberry Festival.

Bingo Masterlist

The annual Strawberry Festival was held in the season of spring. After months of rain, many farms in Japan donated to the annual Strawberry Festival. In exchange, the funding from the festival went back to the farmers for more supplies they would need. A plot of land was rented for an entire month.

The festival was amazing. The grown Sakura Trees finally bloomed, the pink petals adding a delicate feeling to the area. The fresh spring air filled up those who attended with joy. Many men, women, and children made the abandoned area into a lively, boisterous place.

Eijirou Kirishima and his friends always went, even during their previous high school years. It was a tradition, Mina would say, as she persuaded them to attend once again with her. They always would fall for her persistent ways— Bakugou finally going with them after she teased him about having no friends. Each year seemed to be more fun and better than the last.

Each time they went, they always seemed to get closer. Kaminari noted that Mina was always the only girl and wondered if she had any other friends outside of their group. Mina, who got offended, started her cycle of whining, claiming she did have other friends besides them. At last year’s festival, she told them she had a friend who would join them but unfortunately couldn’t due to late hero work.

Of course, the pink-haired girl understood, being a pro hero herself. This year, her friend was able to join, asking her agency specifically for the day off.

Kirishima wondered about Mina’s friend. Was she kind? Was she the angry type to lose her cool so often like Bakugo? Was she goofy?

Was she pretty?

The three males waited for their pink friend to show up, who was running fashionably late as always. Bakugou, who was already losing his patience, threatened to leave if she didn’t arrive in the next five minutes, but them knowing him for so long called his bluff.

“Relax dude,” Kirishima sighed, leaning against one of the metal poles that held up the sign for the festival. “Maybe her friend was just running late or something.”

“Yeah, plus you know how long Ashido takes to get ready. One time she wanted to go to the market and made me wait a whole thirty minutes just for her to find the perfect outfit. For the store! Can you believe that?!” Kaminari exclaimed, shoving his arms out in front of him to emphasize what he said.

“She made you wait for thirty?” Sero scoffed, looking up at the clear blue sky. “Try an hour cause she forgot you were coming over and she just woke up.” “Can the both of you just shut up?!” Bakugou yelled, causing nearby people to jump in shock at the sudden burst and stare at him. “Complaining about her isn’t going to make her any faster! In fact, I’m just going to leave right now! Tell her to kiss my ass!” Bakugou turned on his heel, taking a step forward as Kirishima’s arm shot out, his hand wrapping around Bakugou’s bicep.

“She’s coming and we just need to wait! Wouldn’t it suck if we all just left?!”

“Oh no no there’s no we! I’m leaving by myself!!”

“Hey!!”

A sigh of relief left Kirishima’s lips, his hand releasing its grip on the blond’s arm. “See? She’s here!” He laughed and turned around, a bright smile on his face. “Hey, Mina!”

“Sorry, I’m late! We couldn’t find a parking spot!”

At the sound of we, his ears perked up as his eyebrows furrowed, not noticing another body behind her. “Uh, that’s funny. Where is your friend?”

Her eyes widened as she looked over her shoulder. “Y/N! Over here!” she yelled, jumping up as she waved you over with both of her hands.

You felt embarrassed as you jogged over to her, holding your ticket in a deep grip of your hand. “S-sorry! They cut me off right when they admitted you!”

A disapproving shake of her head and her hand wrapped itself around your wrist, dragging you in front of her. “Guys this is Y/LN Y/N! Y/N that’s,” a finger pointed at Sero. “That’s Sero! The angry-looking one is Bakugou! The black stripe is Kaminari and the redhead is Kirishima! Don’t make it awkward okay guys?!”

Kirishima stared at you. His eyes raked over your appearance, glancing from the tips of your shoes to the hair on top of your head. He zeroed in on the lipstick you wore. Red, just like the strawberries he would be seeing soon. The sheer black shirt opened in the middle, revealing the white tank top you wore under to cover yourself. Your jeans hugged your curves in just the right ways he thought it would. He noticed the small dimple of the right side of your cheek when you smiled. Your hair was beautiful. The way the loose strands would fall effortlessly, giving off a tired yet effective look that could have had any boy or girl swooning over you.

“Well hi!” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling in the slightest. “It’s nice to meet all of you! Sorry if we caused any trouble!”

“It’s no trouble at all!” Kirishima blurted out, his eyes widening at his statement as he coughed into his arm, regaining his composure. Ignoring the snickers of his friends, he looked into your eyes. Oh god, your eyes. He felt as if he jumped off a diving board and jumped into an endless pool of wonder. He wanted to drown himself in it. He needed to.

“I uh..” he trailed off and shook his head, slapping his hands against his face. “It’s no trouble at all! We didn’t mind waiting!”

“Hah?! What’s with the ‘we’ bullshit?! I’m not a part of that!” Bakugou yelled, pointing a finger in your direction. “You made me wait for so fucking long! I’ll remember that!”

“Can it Bakugou! Yelling at someone you just met is unmanly!”

“Oooh, he has it already!” Kaminari cooed, placing the back of his hand on his forehead, in a fake act of swooning. “Sero catch me!” He let his knees buckle, his body falling backward. Sero’s arms wrapped around Kaminari’s midsection, bringing him closer to his own body. “I would never let you fall!” Sero’s voice dropped an octave. “I’ll always protect you!”

You let out a laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “Are they always like this?”

A displeased sigh left the pink girl’s lips as she nodded. “Unfortunately they are. Just ignore them and you’ll be fine! Might as well go now, shouldn’t we?!

“About fucking time, I can’t handle those two idiots anymore”

“Hey!” an offended Kaminari and Sero yelled, a matching pout on their faces. “I’ll have you know that we are a joy to have!” Kaminari looked in your direction, moving Sero’s arms off his body once he straightened himself up. “Don’t listen to him, you’ll have fun with us! I promise!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Kaminari kept his promise. The group was a joy to be around, just like he said. The festival had multiple small attractions. Small rides meant for younger ages, but of course who could say no to that? Six adults screamed as a strawberry spun them around.

There was the slide. You had to climb what seemed like endless amounts of stairs, carrying a mat to protect yourself from getting a friction burn.

A small huff of air left your lips as you bent forward a little, hands resting on your knees.

“Tired already huh? We haven’t even gone down yet!”

You averted your gaze up, your eyes meeting playful red ones. “And what if I am tired? You gonna carry me down?”

He shrugged his shoulders as he got in the space beside you, his arm brushing against yours sent goosebumps up your arm. “Maybe. Is that something you would let me do?”

Your lower lip tucked between your teeth, the corner of your lip curving in a grin. “I could, but I would rather you cry after your defeat.”

“Oh, my defeat, huh? And what makes you think you’ll win?” He bent over slightly, his body towering over your own.

“My gut instinct, Kirishima! Don’t worry, I’ll treat you to some food to help you with your tears.”

A boisterous laugh emitted from his lips, his shoulders shaking with the rest of his body. “Okay! I’ll accept this challenge. It’s not manly to back down from one.”

“Next group!” the worker yelled, showing you guys to your respected place.

You guys followed his directions, placing your mats down before sitting down. “This is so fucking stupid,” Bakugou grumbled, his hands gripping the front of his mat where his feet were stuffed in.

“Bakugou!” Sero yelled from the left of him. “Kids are here!”

“AND?!”

“Keep it down, man! That’s why you aren’t in a relationship!”

“What did you say, Dunce Face?!”

Mina let out a sigh, her heads hanging forward. “Those three never stop.” She glanced over at you. “Are you liking it so far?”

You nodded quickly. “I love it! I can’t believe I missed out on this last year!”

“Oh, so you were the one who was supposed to come last year huh?” Kirishima asked, leaning closer to you slightly.

Your cheeks heated up at the close proximity and nodded, looking down at your lap. “Y-yeah that was me.” You lifted your head, a small smile forming on your lips. “But I’m here now! So that’s all that matters, right?”

He gaped at you, taking in your appearance for the second time that day. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his cheeks beginning to heat up as he couldn’t stop the smile forming on his face. “R-right! H-hey this might be bad timing but um... Do you think I-”

“Go!” The worker yelled, motioning for you guys to go down now.

“Last one is buying dinner!” Mina laughed and let her weight pull her forward, going down the slide fast, each of you guys following her.

“I’m already buying Kirishima’s once I beat him!” you yelled out, your hair flowing behind you from the passing wind. You could feel the adrenaline rushing through your veins as your heart was beating out of your chest, the gust of wind filling your lungs.

Kirishima looked over your way, his heart leaping out and running to you with open arms, his body unable to contain it. ‘She’s so pretty there,’ he thought, his grip on the mat slowly letting go as he lost himself in his daze.

There was a sudden dip towards the end. His hands were nowhere near his mat, instead they reached forward as his body was launched in the air.

“Kirishima!” you yelled out in worry, the voices of Kaminari, Sero, Mina, and even Bakugou laughing out loud from behind you.

“What an idiot!” Sero pointed, throwing his head back in laughter. Kirishima’s body tumbled down the colorful slide. He let out a rather loud groan as his body collided with the grass, his face buried in the depths of the earth.

“Kiri, are you okay?!”

Oh god, you called him Kiri? And you saw him fall on his face? Could this day get any worse?

Your hand touched his shoulder, gently poking him with your index finger. “Are you alive?”

“Yeah...I’m alive”

You let out a sigh of relief, sitting back on your knees as you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “Good. I would hate to see you dead on the same day that I met you. I would like to get to know you better before that,” you joked.

He quickly turned his head, patches of leftover dirt lingered on his face, pieces of grass stuck in his hair. “R-really?”

You meekly nodded, standing up from the ground as you dusted the dirt off the knees of your pants. You ignored the fit of giggles and the stares from the people around you. “Yeah really. You seem really cute and a joy to be around.”

He placed his hands on the ground and lifted himself, a goofy smile displayed on his face. “I don’t mind that!” he choked out, hand reaching into his pocket for his phone.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Somehow you and Kirishima ended up alone and away from the group. The others said that they would find a place for food while you and Kirishima went strawberry picking. You swung the wooden basket in your hand, humming a small song as you had a small bounce in your step.

The tune of your humming caused Kirishima to stay silent, basking in the moment that he felt he wouldn’t get again.

“So Mina brought up that you guys have been coming here for the past 4 years in a row?”

He nodded, looking forward as you continued down the fields. “Yup. Since our second year of high school. Mina brought it up first and we all teased her saying it was stupid. Turns out it’s fun to come hang out here.”

A whine left your lips as you rubbed the back of your neck, a pout on your lips. “I’m still sad I couldn’t come last year! I tried begging my agency but to no avail, they wouldn’t let me and couldn’t get someone else!”

He let out a hum, reaching down to pick a strawberry away from the stem, admiring the shiny coat of red protecting its core of flavor. He reached over to you and dropped it in the pile of other strawberries in the basket. “Well, since you came with us this time, you can come again next year!”

You felt your heart swell up with joy. You only knew them for less than nine hours and already he thought of you as a part of their group? Your cheeks grew darker than their normal pigment. “Y-yeah!” you stuttered, then laughed. “Sorry if I’m so nervous..you’re just really cute”

He let out a noise of shock. “R-really?! Well, I think you’re cute too!”

“Oh, I know. I caught you many times staring at me today.”

Many? Was he really that obvious?

“I uh-” he stammered and looked away, something else catching his interest.

“I’m just messing with you! Don’t get your head caught up in a twist,” you grinned, bending over to grab a strawberry. “Hey, this one looks like a heart!”

“Really?” he leaned closer to you, his heat radiating off his body and washing over you. The smell of his cologne filling your every sense, nearly driving you mad.

You nodded and lifted it to eye level, your eyes following the shape. “Yeah! I almost don’t wait to eat it.”

“Well, why don’t we eat it together?”

Your eyes met his, your faces centimeters apart. “Yeah..that sounds good,” you whispered.

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

The promise between the both of you was kept. Many hangouts turned into dates. After the one year you went, it was tradition now for you that you went every year with them. The group adored you after the first meet up. The boys’ group chat blew up, most messages from Kirishima as he spammed it, saying that you guys were going to hang out sometime soon.

Of course, they cheered him on. Except for Bakugou, who said that it was a waste to tell them, but on the inside, he was happy for Kirishima.

Kirishima was happy with you. He really was. You made him feel things he didn’t know he could. He felt loved. He felt like he was on cloud nine the whole time he was dating you. He loved the times where he would wake up from his sleep, turn over on his side and come face to face with your face that was at peace. No matter how many times that happened, his heart always fluttered like it was the first time it happened. Eijioru Kirishima was in love with you.

Was.

The annual Strawberry Festival was approaching yet again. After a season of agony, the sorrow that was built inside threatened to burst out.

Kirishima refused to go. Instead, he was standing in front of a gravestone, a dark look settled over his face. His red hair was down, the bangs covering his eyes. His throat was tight as his eyes spewed of tears of hatred and pain. His sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip, bringing a fist to his mouth, his lips kissing the object in his hand.

Along with Kirishima, the rest of them stayed with him, refusing to leave their friend when he needed them most.

Your death happened out of nowhere. A villain attack. You weren’t on patrol. You were just a mere civilian for the day. A young boy’s life was at stake. Your selflessness kept the child alive. Yet your selflessness made you risk your life.

That was one of the things Kirishima loved and hated about you. You always made sure to keep others' needs above yours. If only others didn’t arrive too late, you would have been going down the slide yet again with him, laughing your head off.

He let out a prolonged sigh, his shoulders rising and falling slowly. This was something he had to come to terms with. One last kiss to the object, he placed down the delicate ring on top of your gravestone, hearing the small clink of the metal hit the concrete.

A strawberry red band with a diamond on top, the sun rays shining down on it. He would have proposed on what would have been your third year anniversary, but of course, the universe had different plans for you.

The red festival, as Kirishima liked to call it, will always give him a subtle reminder. A small subtle reminder that gave him nostalgia. The place where he met the love of his life, bringing memories, and many more. The place that gave him a grim reminder that you were no longer alive, and weren’t coming back home any time soon. The place that you wouldn’t be going too anymore.

#bnhabookclub #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #myheroacademia #bokonoacademia #x reader #my fic #fic #bingo event #tw: death

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themusicplayedherlife · 4 years

Text

WIP: Ocean

summary: you never knew you’d ever feel so attached to someone, never knew that you could feel so strongly about a person; this is your start and end with javier pena, the man that would shake your life for better or worse a/n: i had posted this before but i accidentally deleted it--oops, so forgive me, i know its not wednesday

Summers in Los Angeles weren’t the worst you have experienced. You’ve been fortunate (but really, unfortunate) to visit many cities across the US during the summer and while there are places where the humidity destroys you, none have come close to the summers you used to spend in Bogota, Colombia as a child.

When you asked your father how it was possible for him to have grown up in a place where sometimes you felt you couldn’t breathe, he said you grow used to it. You couldn’t quite believe him, not when you watched him struggle with the heat himself.

Summers in Los Angeles, however, were just an inconvenience; a heat that caused your skin to grow hot and for your clothes to stick to your slick skin. Sometimes the humidity was strong, but it was just the heat that really killed you. You hated it, but you could escape it easily by ducking into a place with air conditioning or staying in your car with the air blasting on high until absolutely necessary for you to head out.

Except now, you’re stuck in a room used for interrogation and you’re 100% sure that the lack of cool air is meant to make criminals uncomfortable, make them want to confess faster to their wrong doings. But you’re not a criminal, even if the blonde with the funny mustache sitting across from you with a steely stare seems to think otherwise.

“I already told you, Detective, uh—“ what was his name again? God, you couldn’t care less whether his name was Al Pacino or Ronald McDonald, but you have a feeling that this particular Detective seems to like respect, and as much as you don’t want to give it, you know it’s the only way to get released quicker.

“Murphy,” he fills in for you as he leans back into the metal chair with barely any cushion—seriously your ass hurts.

“Right, Detective Murphy, I was only there because I was passing by and happened to get caught in the cross hairs. I have no idea who any of these men are.”

“These men” is referring to the candid photos of some of Los Angeles’ most well known drug dealers—well, not super well known, but well known to those who care, scattered on the table. There’s El Quica, the funny looking one, short and all teeth as he smiles to someone off frame, a sex worker most likely. Scorpion, lanky, and covered in tattoos from head to toe, hard to miss if he’s walking down the street. Poison, a cop killer, hitman and a man straight out of one of those hair salon posters from the 80’s. There are a few others you somewhat recognize as well, but none that you have catalogued as much as the three faces he put directly in front of you.

The door to the interrogation room opens and for one measly second you allow yourself to grow excited at the prospect of being released, however the next person to walk into the room isn’t exactly who you’re expecting.

He’s handsome. Good looking in those form fitting jeans and pink button down shirt that you’re sure he’d say is salmon, not pink. He’s glaring down at you with his dark eyes and you can’t help but look away.

“You really don’t know who they are?” The new man asks, his voice low and deep, smooth. A thought flashes in your head, his voice hitting your core, wondering how he’d sound if he were under you or maybe over you, if he was good to you. But you’re not as taken by his voice, doused in cold water, when he pulls out your camera from his hand behind his back, setting it on the table top in front of you. “That’s hard to believe when their pictures are in your camera.”

“You went through my car?” Is what comes out of your mouth, eyes wide as red hot anger begins to boil in your stomach as you wait for him to answer, but he doesn’t, leveling you with a glare of his own. This time you don’t look away, meeting those dark pools head on.

“Why were you taking their pictures?”

“I can’t believe you went through my car!” You lunge for your DSLR, but tall, dark and handsome pulls it away from your grasp. “Who the hell gave you permission to go through my stuff?”

He purses his lips. “We don’t need—“

The door opens once again and this time the person you’re exactly expecting to step through the threshold does—Horacio, intimidating gaze sweeping over the room and only growing more intense when he notices the state you’re in.

Shit. That is not a happy expression on your Nino’s face.

“Mi Capitan,” says the dark haired man causing his boss to turn his sharp gaze in his direction.

“Let her go,” is all he needs to say for you to quickly stand up.

Detective Murphy’s eyes fly between you and his Captain. “With all due respect, sir, we can’t just do that. I think she could be—“

“And with all due respect, Murphy, I don’t care what you think.”

Horacio tilts his head to the side, a silent command for you to leave the room, and you do as he motions. Quickly gathering up your camera in your hands before exiting the room with Horacio behind you, and his two Detectives hastily following.

“Qué estás haciendo, Horacio?” What are you doing? Tall, dark, and handsome asks, Spanish smooth and enough to make you swoon—if he hadn’t touched your camera, that is.

“My office,” Horacio speaks softly to you, in contrast to his hard gaze, and you nod, already knowing the way. You’ve been here enough times as a kid to know where his office is.

You can feel the hot gazes on your back as you walk away, but you ignore them in favor of keeping your head high and holding your camera tightly to your chest. Idiotas. Seriously.

Slipping into Horacio’s office, you place your camera down onto his desk, easily falling onto the comfortable padded arm chair for his guests.

God, what a mess.

You had thought you were being pretty sneaky, but somehow those two saw you as you tried slipping away from the busted drug deal you were trying to cover. When you realized you were being followed, you barely had enough time to stash your camera into your glove compartment and lock the car before Detective Murphy, or whatever his name is, was hovering over you and reading you your rights.

You sigh and settle into the seat just as the door behind you opens up.

“Ni—“

“What were you thinking?” He immediately starts badgering you, and you aren't surprised. He has a tendency to overreact, just like your father. “Do you realize how dangerous and stupid that was? What if you got caught by one of his men instead, huh? What then?”

You frown, your eyes following him as he stands in front of his desk and drops the items that the detectives confiscated from you onto his desk before crossing his arms taut as he glares down at you. “I was careful, Nino. I don’t know how your men even saw me! If anything, you should take it as praise. It means your men are getting more competent, right?”

Making a joke is risky, especially when he’s like this, but it seems he’s in a good because he doesn’t turn red and start telling you off like your father would. Instead, he snorts, releasing the tension in his body as his arms drop to his side. “You’re unbelievable.”

You crack a smile. “Lo se.”

Horacio pushes away from the desk to take a seat in his chair across from you. He studies you for a moment before drifting his eyes down to your camera. “Peña told me you have pictures of Sicarios, some that we don’t even have in our database.”

“Is Peña the Spanish speaking one?” you ask with a carefree grin, hoping to change the subject. While any other time you would’ve happily given him copies of the pictures you took, you weren’t ready to share your half information just yet. “Or was there another officer I didn’t notice? If there was, I’m losing my edge.”

He calls your name firmly, like a father reprimanding their child for not behaving, and you lazily blink up at him, not at all phased. “Where did you take their pictures?”

“Ask Detective Peña. He went through my camera, oh, and my car.”

He inhales deeply, rubbing his temple in exasperation. “Mija,” he starts slowly, “we need that information.”

“Even if I did give you a place, they don’t go there anymore. Besides the ones from today, the pictures are two weeks old,” you tell him, holding your camera up with the screen in his direction. “They’re getting smarter, Nino. They’re not sticking to one place anymore. They’re jumping around.”

“Jumping around?”

You lick your lips, thinking about whether to tell him. It wouldn’t hurt giving him a hint, would it? “They’re sticking to the DTLA area mostly, but they’re starting to push further into the surrounding areas like Pico-Union, Koreatown and even as far as East LA.” This is as much as you’re willing to tell him, really, but you’ve given him a base, enough to move his men freely and discover more details for themselves. The rest of your intel is still being confirmed by you, and you really don’t need a bunch of cops scaring them off before you can get the chance to track them down and uncover more facts.

He stares at you for a moment, the clock on the wall ticking loudly—once, twice, and a third time before he sighs. “You’ll give us intel when you’ve got it?”

Your lips tick into a half smile. “Of course, once I can confirm it.”

You can tell by the way he clenches his jaw, he wants to tell you he can confirm it himself, keep you out of harm’s way, but he knows better than to argue with you. You’re not about to give in so easily. “Fine, but be careful out there, okay? It’s already enough that your brother is getting ready for this mess, but I don’t need you getting caught in the cross hairs, too, mijita.” Mijita, he only uses that term of endearment when he’s really worried about you and your wellbeing. It’s a name you hated as a child—mijita, so condescending, but now? As an adult? You appreciate it a little more.

“I will, Nino,” you assure him, allowing a cocksure grin to paint your lips. “Can’t let anything happen to me before I earn a Pulitzer.”

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña x you #javier peña x y/n #wip wednesday #wip

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breadoffoxy · 3 years

Text

Prompt: “I’m a grown adult. I don’t want to take a picture with Santa Claus.”

Day: 11/31

Pairing: Chan x n. Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1032

It was too busy to be at the mall today. For starters, it was too close to Christmas. You were one of the people who got their gift shopping done early or online so you could avoid the madness. Not only physical closeness of all the people bothered you, but also the noise level. It didn’t help you were in the large, open echoey space where Santa’s workshop is.

“We’re almost there!” Hyejin shouts. Your best friend’s young cousin jumps up and down excitedly.

“Yep,” Soo-Gook looks at her watch, “almost there for the last 15 minutes.”

“Kids these days,” you sigh, “they have such long lists.”

Soo-Gook laughs at you, “You’re one to talk. Remember that list we had to make for class? Yours went on for pages more than anyone else.”

Embarrassed, you look away with a pout. “That was in elementary school, and the teacher said we could write anything we would want.”

“What are you going to ask Santa for this year, y/n?” Hyejin asks, again in a loud voice. This makes Soo-Gook’s laughter renew at your more embarrassed face.

“I’m a grown adult. I don’t want to take a picture with Santa Clause.” You grumble, crossing your arms.

Luckily for you, the three of you finally make it to the counter, and the conversation is put on hold. The exhausted worker looks at you with so much cheer you feel like it would give you cavities.

“Welcome to Santa’s workshop! How many pictures will you be purchasing today? No visit is complete unless you get one, we have our deals here and you wouldn’t want to miss out on these fond memories.” The skit would last forever it sounded like if you said no to them.

“We’ll take two.” Soo-Gook hands the happy attendant her card. “One for this squirt,” she points at her cousin, “and one for my friend here.”

You splutter when she points at you. “What did I just say- “

“Oh please, you’ll thank me later.” Soo-Gook grins at your, “It’s not every day you get to sit in Bang Chan’s lap.”

Her words leave you gaping in shock. Yes, while you are here being a good friend and hanging out with Soo-Gook and her cousin, she may have helped swayed you by telling you that your long-time crush Chan was going to be at the event. Crush was too weak; you were hopelessly in love with the sweet man.

From that point on the line seemed to be moving increasingly fast. You weren’t ready as your mind was going blank. Soo-Gook wouldn’t let you not take a picture, but that means now you have to ask for a wish.

As if reading your mind, Soo-Gook suggests, “You could always ask for a kiss?”

“No way,” Instantly you reject the idea.

“That would be so romantic.” Hyejin is nearly swooning.

Soo-Gook frowns at her cousin, “What do you know of romance.”

The two begin to bicker in their familiar familial way as you nervously eye the front of the line. You can see Chan now, sitting on an elaborate, giant chair. His costume is nice, but you can tell it was a young man pretending to be Santa. The kids seemed pleased enough though.

When you arrive to the front, Chan waves at you happily, recognizing you and Soo-Gook. Hyejin runs up to him excitedly and sits on his lap. Chan steadies her and laughs when she says, “It’s ok, your secret is safe with me Santa.”

“Thanks Hyejin,” Chan whispers conspiratorially before he booms out, “Now little lady, what do you want for Christmas?”

She laughs at his demeanor before giving him quite the list ranging from a pony, to a switch to just straight up money. Chan nods at each thing, carefully listening. The photographer focuses his camera and takes a shot with a blinding flash. Oh god, you were totally going to blink, you just know it. Soo-Gook wishes you good luck as she wanders to the side her cousin is waiting.

Chan seems surprised, but happy at your approach. He pats his legs invitingly and places a hand on your back once you sit. You can feel your heart beating through your chest and you only hope he doesn’t feel it through your back.

“Ah, y/n, always a pleasure.” Chan says in his accent that is music to your ears. He doesn’t bother with his booming Santa voice. “Soo-Gook blackmail you?”

“Something like that.” You can feel your ears burning and the heavy stare of your friend drilling into you. He’s so close that you are having a hard time concentrating.

He hums, as he looks into your eyes. “As much as I’d love to catch up,” he motions to himself, “I have to ask, what do you want for Christmas?”

You hum in return and tap a finger on your chin, “an unlimited supply of coffee.”

Chan laughs at your answer. When you don’t continue, he asks, “Is that it, just the one thing?”

“I’d say unlimited coffee is more than just one.”

Frustrated at your answer, Soo-Gook shouts, “She wants coffee with you!”

If you could die on the spot you would. Chan’s lap didn’t seem like a bad place to go either.

“I think I can manage that.” The hand on your back pats you out of your shock.

“R-really?” You were so embarrassed but yet you couldn’t believe this was happening.

“I may not be able to buy you all the coffee,” Chan smiles warmly at you, “but I can definitely but you all the coffee you’d want on dates.”

The plural use of the word doesn’t escape you, but before you can say anything the bright flash of the camera goes off.

“I’ll call you.” He has the audacity to wink at you when a worker dressed as an elf ushers you down. You find yourself really sad to leave his lap.

Once you exit, Soo-Gook and Hyejin basically jump on you in excitement.

“Oh my god, you are literally a Santa baby,” Soo-Gook giggles.

“Please, never call me that again.” You try to grumble, but the smile on your face shows how excited you are.

#stray kids fanfiction #chan fanfiction #chan x reader #winter drabble #my writing

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inspired-by-the-music · 4 years

Text

For You: 4 O’Clock

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @jamies-kpop-reactions

Chapter 15: Our Story

The mere seconds that Mom spent staring at me and Taemin, slackjawed in the doorway, might as well have lasted forever.

I think we wouldn't have looked half as guilty if we hadn't flinched lightyears apart from each other at her gasp, but it was our instinct to run and hide. As it turns out, we didn't melt or fade in the light of discovery, but we certainly did burn.

"Oops!" Mom almost giggled as she tiptoed back into the hallway and closed the door with a soft click. Like she had done something wrong, she apologized. "I'm sorry! Lei, I just came to tell you that dinner is ready. Come down whenever you get hungry!"

Before I could speak even in a timid squeak of a voice, I heard Mom's footsteps retreat down the stairs. Because tense silence had fallen over my room, I heard Donghae ask, "Where's Lei? Is she okay?"

And I heard Heechul say, "She's not curled up in bed with her radio crying her eyes out to SHINee again, is she? I thought we were past that phase!"

I went red in the face because I had certainly grown a bit past that phase, but only because I had Taemin— the real-life person— to curl up with. Thinking only that Taemin was a million times more comforting than any CD had ever been-- and that's really saying something since you know well that music was my best friend before Lucas— I glanced at him.

From the foot of the bed where he had tucked himself into a humiliated ball, Taemin sprang to his feet and started pacing around in the dark.

"Oh my God," he wheezed, nearly tripping over his shoes. "She caught us. Your mother— my manager— caught me in your room. She caught us kissing. She caught us kissing in your room. She caught me kissing you on your bed in your room. She caught me whispering into your mouth that I love you on your bed in the dark in your room."

I had been flustered before Taemin became a human embodiment of anxiety. A fact about me: I strive for balance in almost every situation. If somebody (take Lucas for example) is bouncing off the walls, I will sit perfectly still. If somebody is frowning, I am trying to make them smile, even if it's the briefest, dimmest sort of smile. If somebody (like Taemin was that night) is in a panic, I am level-headed.

So when Taemin tugged at his hair, whining, "She's going to kill me. And if she doesn't kill me, she'll make me break up with you, and then that's gonna kill me. Shit, shit, shit."

"She is not going to kill you," I said confidently because I knew Mom like the back of my hand. Granted, I didn't know every detail of her life before me, but I knew her well enough to know that she wasn't angry. Mom never apologizes when she isn't sorry. She never apologizes when she's mad.

I was kind of joking when I said, "If she wanted to kill you, she would have sent Heechul and Donghae flying up the stairs, and—”

"Shit!" Taemin hissed. Profanities didn't suit him. "Super Junior is going to kill me!"

Slightly wavering in confidence, I assured him, "No, they're not. Mom isn't going to say anything to Super Junior."

Besides, I rationalized to myself, Yesung, who would have posed the biggest threat to Taemin's life, already knew that we were together. If Yesung didn't kill Taemin at the Christmas party, I figured that we were in the clear.

If Taemin hadn't been pacing so quickly, I might have tried to catch him in my arms to kiss his worries away as he had done for me. Given that kissing had led to this tension, though, he might not have appreciated the affection. Maybe it's a good thing that I didn't try to kiss him.

Taemin collapsed onto the edge of the bed and buried his face into his hands. When moments passed in silence, I took the chance to say, "She won't make us break up either, Taem. She just-- she was probably just shocked because she didn't know you were here. On top of that, she has always thought that Lucas and I are a thing, so—”

Into his palms, Taemin groaned, "She probably thinks you're cheating on Lucas with me or something! That makes everything a billion times worse!"

"It's more likely that she just realized that Lucas and I were never together. I mean, I've told her often enough that the message was bound to sink in sooner or later." After pulling Taemin's hands away from his face, I laced our fingers together. I gave both hands a gentle squeeze. "I get that this isn't how we wanted Mom to find out about us, but she had to find out somehow."

To tell you the truth, I was relieved that she found out in this private aspect of life and not through a tabloid expose.

"I know that you wanted to keep this-- us-- a secret so we could be roommates on tour, but we couldn't hide in the dark forever."

And to tell you the truth, I didn't want to. I wasn't eager to pen some press release or anything, but I think I was outgrowing that compulsion, that dependence on secrecy and shadows; they didn't comfort me anymore.

From everything that happened over those past few months, I learned that secrets are damning. At least in my own home, I wanted to live openly and honestly. Maybe Mom's unexpected discovery made that possible.

Stunned by my lack of humiliation, slackjawed because, for the first time, Taemin was embarrassed while I was not, I realized out loud, "I think— I think I'm glad that she found out." Drawing a deep breath, the kind that makes you realize that you've been holding your breath for far too long, I admitted, "I think— I think I've wanted her to know for a long time. Maybe forever."

Silence ensued as Taemin breathed heavily. Deeply. Inhale, count to ten. Exhale, count to ten.

My mouth opened, probably to explain that I nearly told Mom all about us on the drive to Grandma's house on my debut anniversary, but Taemin's stare took my voice away. He blinked at me. The spark in his eyes made me think that he wanted to smile at me. In hindsight, I guess he didn't. Taemin always smiled whenever he wanted to smile, and he didn't offer me the smallest grin for the rest of the night.

"I have to go," he breathed before stepping into his shoes.

That deep breath I had just drawn passed through my lips all at once. I said the wrong thing. There is nothing worse than when the truth— the full and absolute truth that rings in the deepest part of your heart— is the wrong thing to say. How can anyone regret telling the truth? How can anybody want to snatch the truth out of the air once it has been released?

"O-okay."

My stutter did not pass unnoticed despite my efforts to hide it with a smile. Taemin sat back by my side, took my face into his warm hands, and pecked at my lips. The kiss was over before I even realized it was happening.

"I love you, baby," Taemin promised. I swooned less at the affirmation of what I already knew and more at the variation of his name for me. He tucked some hair behind my ear. "Go down to dinner, and I'll talk to you later."

Rising to my feet in time with him, I said, "I love you too. Forever, Taemin."

Because I didn't want to watch him scramble out of the window, because I was at great risk of begging him to stay for dinner with Mom and Donghae and Heechul and Lucas— my family— to once and for all drag our remaining secrets into the light, I walked away. From the vanity, I grabbed the old photograph that I had yet to return to Donghae. I don't think I closed the door behind me on my way out of the room.

I tiptoed down the stairs, quietly hoping that Taemin would follow. Or maybe I was hoping that I would return from dinner to find him waiting on my bed with open arms. In the end, I was disappointed, but I didn't feel like a fool for daring to hope.

. . .

It turned out that Lucas's description of the rivalry between Donghae and Heechul was not all that dramatized.

Sandwiched between the two men at the dining room table, Mom looked nothing like the fairytale queen I imagined she would become in her happy ending. The squabbling must have gotten under her skin, etched those lines into her forehead, weighed down on the corners of her lips, and sharpened the glare she hurled at Heechul for a (probably offensive) comment that I hadn't heard over my thoughts as I reached the foot of the stairs.

"Lei!" Lucas cheered, pumping two fists into the air, because he was no longer alone with the adults. "Where've ya been?"

I couldn't narrow or roll my eyes at Lucas. He had no way to know that I had been kissing Taemin all day. He didn't have any clue that Mom just walked in on the most intimate moment of my life.

Blushing slightly under everybody's stare— smiling only because Moms smiled first and reminded me that everything was okay— I hummed, "I was just counting the stars."

As I sat in the seat next to Lucas and across from Donghae, I sat the picture frame onto the table. I met Donghae's gentle gaze and nodded. "I believe this belongs to you."

"I believe it does!" Donghae beamed and took the photograph into his hands. "Is this a new frame?" He asked as his thumb traced along the infinity symbol.

"Yep!" I omitted the fact that I had broken the original frame on that night I peeled his poster off the wall. "I— I hope you like it." I would have bashfully dropped my gaze onto the table if Donghae were the kind of person anyone could look away from. He looks right through the soul, you know, and I was finally comfortable with that.

While he untied one of the white threads around his wrist, Donghae swore, "I love it, Lei!" He motioned for me to hold out my wrist.

I watched, smiling, as Donghae knotted the infinity bracelet for me. All I could think about was my ribbon around Taemin's wrist. All I could think was that Donghae's thread bracelet was a ribbon too. We were tied together. Soulmates. Forever.

Then, my eyes were drawn to his red thread ribbon. Mom wore-- wears— one identical to that. They were tied together too. Soulmates. Forever.

So don't fault me for disagreeing with Taemin's belief that everything was falling apart with Mom's discovery of our kiss. It was clear for anybody to see (if they knew where to look) that happiness wasn't contingent upon the idea that everything will be okay. Everything was okay. Everything is okay. Happiness had arrived.

Except it wasn't happiness. The warmth spreading through my chest and painting life-- which had gone from dull shades of gray to pale hues with Lucas to sporadic brilliant bursts of color in the night with Taemin— was named joy. I read once that joy is forever, and I believed it then, and I believe it still. So, for the first time in a long time, as I looked at Donghae and Donghae looked back at me, I was not afraid for the sun to rise. I was not anxious because the sun had risen.

"It's not fair!" Heechul shrieked, pounding his fists on the table. "I practically live here, and the girl still favors Donghae!" Staring at me so intently that I thought his eyes might pop out of his head, Heechul demanded, "How come we never exchange gifts at the table, huh? I've been crashing on that couch for however many years, and you've never given me so much as a high-five!"

I raised my hands in total sincere surrender. "Look, I'm not picking favorites. I love you both. And if you start getting annoying and demanding me to pick favorites-- well-- let's not get into this again."

Donghae pouted into his glass of water. "You mean Yesung is still your favorite?"

And Heechul groaned at the ceiling, "Why am I not surprised?"

And Lucas chirped, "You gotta love Lei's unfailing loyalty!"

As I started forking through my dinner-- a salad because a.) my mouth was entirely too sensitive to the spicy noodles everyone else could slurp without watering in the eyes, and b.) I was trying yet another diet-- Mom caught my eye. She was watching me, smiling knowingly, determined to see me blush.

Uninterested in attracting any of the boys' attention, I subtly raised my eyebrows, trusting that Mom wouldn't say anything to expose my intimate information.

"You're not busy tomorrow are you?" I swear, she winked at me and I almost choked. "I was hoping that you could meet with me tomorrow. Nothing too serious, just a quick check-in on that project you've been working on."

Obviously, there was no project. Mom was just trying to tease me a bit and ensure that I made time to tell her about the events that led to the kiss that took our breath away.

Donghae and Heechul didn't know any of that, though, and they started pestering me about the project— "Is it a new song?" Heechul asked, and Donghae guessed, "Is the agency letting you write a ballad?"— while Lucas watched me through eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Would you two hush?" Mom hissed at Donghae and Heechul. "Just let Lei keep her secrets for now!"

Mom and I laughed together and the others looked at us like we were crazy. That's okay, though. I didn't mind their stares. I was too happy that Mom saw me; I was too happy that there would be no more secrets between us come tomorrow morning. If I had it my way, I decided, there would never be another secret between us for the rest of our lives.

"I always have time for you," I told her through a grin. "Just name the hour, and I'll drop everything for you."

I had until 9 o'clock in the morning to decide what I wanted to tell Mom. Once I walked into my bedroom, I flipped on the overhead light, nabbed an empty moleskine notebook from the bookshelf, and sat at the desk I hadn't used since the long past poetry-writing days. Having grown significantly since then, I had to pull that little lever that lowers the rolling office chair.

Several of the pens that I dug out of the top drawer had gone dry, but I finally found one-- a dark almost-black blue-- that worked. I used it to map out the constellations, everything that happened before the kiss. Debuting with SuperM, giving Taemin my ribbon, the first game of Truth or Dare, crying that night in the garden, falling asleep with Taemin every night in America, the NCT Dream VLive incident, the Great Come Apart in Grandma's dining room, the roller coaster that was the Christmas party, visiting the wishing fountain where Baekhyun gave me a flower crown, kissing Taemin throughout New Year's Night and into New Year's Day.

I poured all of myself into that story, this story. On these pages, you can find me: my fears, my dreams, my hopes. I hope you love me as much as I love you. I know you do, Mom. I know you do.

By the time I lay me down to sleep, it is 4 O'Clock in the morning. Now, I wait for the sun to rise so I can share everything.

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dsudis · 4 years

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M/M romance novel recs

The last time I meant to do this I wound up procrastinating for, uh, approximately eleven months because I got fixated on Doing It Right, so... here are an arbitrary number of recommendations for books chosen unsystematically from things I’ve read in the last year or so, that aren’t as detailed or thoughtful as the books probably deserve, because the perfect is the enemy of the good and all that.

All of these are M/M, with a range of gay/bi/pan character identities.

Salt Magic, Skin Magic by Lee Welch - YOU GUYS I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH. I don’t think I’ve actually read the text version of it yet but I’ve listened to the audiobook narrated by Joel Leslie (available through Hoopla!) twice and this book is! so!! great!! It’s set just after the Great Exhibition of 1851--working magician John Blake helped secure the structure of the Crystal Palace, and Thornby, who is mysteriously trapped on his father’s estate in Yorkshire, is livid at having missed the whole thing. Also oh my god this one goes HARD on the hurt/comfort, like I think there is swooning-from-injuries and being-cradled-in-the-other’s-arms in Chapter Two. I LOVE THIS BOOK SO MUCH.

How to Howl at the Moon by Eli Easton - This is the first book in a series based on the premise that dogs who are sufficiently loved by a human, who then are left behind when their beloved human dies, can become Quickened--sentient, and able to shift into human form. So brace yourself to cry about sad dogs but on the bright side NONE OF THE DOGS DIE, JUST HUMANS. Now if you think this premise through for a minute you will realize that this could lead to some super hinky situations, because an adult dog, shifting into an adult human, is like... as little as three years old? and brand-new as a human? So you will be glad to know that this first book introduces you to the whole idea with the least-hinky possible version of the story: Tim is a human who comes to live in a town of Quickened, and Lance, the local sheriff and also a border collie shifter, is a third-generation Quickened, so he has grown up in a totally linear fashion. Books 2 through 4 then proceed to explore progressively more, uh, delicate permutations of the idea, but they are all great I swear.

The Werewolf’s Fae Mate & The Broken Faewolf’s Mate by Liv Rider - I read the second book of these first, because I could not resist the premise of a werewolf who’s been stuck as a wolf since childhood suddenly shifting back to human when he meets his true love (who has werewolf blood but is determined never to lose control and shift into wolf form). Both books are delightful and do werewolves without the whole a/b/o situation, building a whole rivalry between fae and shifters.

How to Bang a Billionaire (trilogy) by Alexis Hall - This is very much like 50 Shades of Gray but a) good and b) gay and c) Arden has a much better instinct for self-preservation than Ana and is willing to say “um you’re treating me like shit and I don’t care about your money more than I care about my own happiness, so I’m out.” Also the kinky sex is something they work up to over time, because of reasons. Lots of delightful secondary characters and a really lovely development of their whole relationship.

Briarley by Aster Glenn Grey (aka @ospreyarcher) - A Beauty and the Beast fixit set during World War II, where the country parson trespasses on the beast’s manor and then, when the Beast demands that he exchange his daughter for his freedom, says, “Uh, no, I’m not going to do that to my daughter, you lunatic, and also she has important war work to do” and stays put and makes the Beast adopt a disabled dog in order to learn what love is. And also the Beast is a fucking dragon and it’s great.

Seven Summer Nights by Harper Fox - Set just after World War II, with both heroes coping, with varying degrees of success, with their combat traumas. Rufus is an archaeologist and a war hero, but he’s missing the memory of the events that left him with his scars and medals, and attacks a colleague on a dig during a flashback. Archie is a small town vicar who’s lost his faith but still believes in looking after his people--and his church, which seems to have a really unusual history. Rufus is sent to Droyton Parva to investigate the archaeology of the church and to hide from his ruined career, and he and Archie run headfirst into some of the last remnants of magic in a mostly-mundane world. Amazing supporting cast of women (and one trans guy who gets a great happy ending although bits of it were... not written in a 21st century way which makes sense for characters in 1946 but, you know, it might be jarring. Also, content warning for offscreen death of an infant.) Mostly this is a story about finding, and creating, and protecting, the spaces where you can be who you are with the person or people you love, and, you know, also some weird magic? It’s great.

(Also I am just permanently recommending that you go read everything by KJ Charles, Cat Sebastian, and Keira Andrews, I have not gone wrong with them yet.)

Anyway, if there’s a particular kind of book you’re looking for, ask and I’ll see what I can come up with! And if you have if-you-liked-x-you-should-read-y suggestions related to the above, I’d love to hear about them!

[Cross-posted to my blog at dessalux.com]

#book recs #romance novels #lee welch #liv rider #harper fox #aster glenn gray #eli easton #alexis hall #gay romance #queer romance #historical romance #historical fantasy romance #paranormal romance #one random contemporary romance because sometimes I read those if they're kinky

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