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tightjeansjavi · 8 months

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Slow Hands | Chapter 3 “trust me to trust you”

A/N: I sat on this story for awhile as I’m already figuring out how I want to develop the plot. I can tell this is going to turn into another passion project for me as I love the idea of post!outbreak domestic Joel and finding love in his late age. This chapter you get a little glimpse into what outbreak day was like for Beanie. Please remember that the nature of this fic will have dark themes. I will mark the warnings appropriately, but please read with caution. 🖤

~word count: 5.2k~

Pairing | Joel Miller x f! Reader

Summary: early winter mornings, fear of the past, a felt fawn, and Maria’s egg casserole.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence from outbreak day, mentions of loss, carnage, brink of death, depictions of a knife wound, PTSD, panic attacks, trigger responses, mentions of a firearm, I am no expert on the subject but I have done some research as I know it’s a delicate topic, angst, Joel is struggling to adjust to living a domestic life, anxiety, feeling like an outcast, grumpy old man! Joel, shy! Joel, kinda mean! Joel, sunshine reader, flirting, fluff, awkward situations, reminiscing on the past, reader has no physical descriptions and is from Texas, reader has a nickname (beanie bc y’know coffee beans) no age gap, vulgar language, slow burn, this is a fic that takes place post-outbreak so please keep in mind that there will be dark/triggering themes, but to also remember that it is not the main plot line for the story. Please read with caution. (+18) minors dni!

main masterlist series masterlist playlist

It had been over 20 years since outbreak day, when your world and life as you once knew it, turned to flames and ash before the frightened whites of your eyes. Your coffee shop, Cuppa Smiles, was your little slice of heaven. You had put so much love, dedication, and passion into your establishment. Your coworkers were friends from college that were just looking for a change of pace from their 9-5’s just like the next person.

They all tried to kill you, whatever they were now. It had happened all so fast, and even now on the quietest of nights, you could still hear their snarls and animalistic growls. You could still remember the frightened screams, the chaos and destruction as a Boeing 747 collided into the earth and burst into flames, debris falling from the explosion, hitting those who were fleeing, and those who were no longer living. You remember tumbling along the concrete, rolling like a sack of potatoes as you struggled to breathe. To your direct left was a truck flipped over on its side.

Through the harsh ringing in your ears, you could make out two male voices on the other side of the truck. The one man was holding a young girl to his chest who couldn’t be more than 12-13 years old.

“I’m sorry, baby, I know, I know.” The man’s tone was urgent, rushed and laced with fear as he held his daughter close.

“We gotta get off the street!” The other man shouted desperately.

“Tommy!”

“Head to the river! I’ll find a way. Get her outta here, Joel! Go!”

Joel.

Joel..Miller?

The last time you saw Joel Miller, all you could remember was the fear in his eyes, before everything around you went black.

When Tommy and Maria Miller discovered you on the outskirts of Jackson, looking like you were all skin and bones as you slipped off your horse's saddle and into the cool dirt. Your body was exhausted, your resources were spent and now you just hoped that you would die peacefully. That was until a strong pair of arms were gently lifting you from the dirt as your body laid like a limp fish.

“D’ya think she’s still breathin?’” Tommy asked his wife as she was quickly checking your pulse.

“Barely. She must have been riding for days out in this heat.”

“She showin’ any signs of bein’ infected?” Tommy knew the protocol of bringing in stragglers from outside Jackson, and if you were found to be infected..

Maria made quick work to check your body for any signs of a bite mark. She took sudden interest in a large bloodstain through the tattered fabric of your shirt. She gently lifted the fabric from the hem to discover a gruesome sight. What appeared to be done by the work of a sharp blade was a long semi deep, gnarly gash carving from your abdomen, up your torso, curving under your left breast and wrapped around your ribcage to your left shoulder blade.

“Fuckin’ hell. Someone tried to carve her up?” Tommy asked in disbelief as his wife gently pulled the hem of your shirt back down.

“Raiders, no doubt. She’s not infected. I can’t find any bite marks, but one thing’s for certain though, this woman has been through some hell.”

It was well over an hour till sunrise when Joel Miller lumbered out of his home, shovel in hand and bundled up fiercely in multiple thick layers to protect his skin from the harsh biting cold. His plan was simple, head over to your house down the street, shovel your walkway, and ask you to accompany him to breakfast. It really was quite simple, but despite that he was running a script over in his mind on exactly what he wanted to say to you.

Hey Beanie, was wonderin’ if you’d like to accompany me to breakfast?

Wait..what if she declines? Then what are you gonna say?

Uhh..

Oh, well that’s alright! Maybe another time? No pressure or nothin.’

What if..she thinks it’s strange that you’re shoveling her walkway at the crack ass of dawn?

Jus’ doin’ my neighborly duty. Besides, it’s jus’ a friendly favor, y’know cause we’re friends?

I sound like an idiot.

Maybe I should just..start off with saying good morning?

I’m hopeless.

Joel grumbled to himself as he trudged through the snow. The whipping wind bit at his exposed skin but he welcomed the chill without a complaint. The harsh elements were just another reminder that he was still alive and breathing.

The outside of your home was just as he expected it to be, quaint, yet quirky. He imagined that in the summer months your front porch would be scattered with flowers and plants. The mailbox just outside your gate was crooked and could definitely use a fresh coat of paint, and the wooden gate was a little creaky, but nothing he couldn’t easily fix. He was already making a little mental note of everything he wanted to fix on, and around your home.

The snow was a few inches deep, it stopped just below the top of his boots. His back already screamed a dull pain up his spine as he bent down with the shovel and got to work. The pain he felt in his muscles was just another reminder that he was still alive.

He gritted his teeth together, jaw clenched as he worked through the first section of your covered walkway.

You never considered yourself to be a heavy sleeper even before the apocalypse. A door slamming, or pots clinking in the kitchen sink at your long since abandoned apartment was all it took to stir you from your slumber. Now, even in the safety of Jackson, your brain was always ticking. What could be lurking behind that dark shadow across the street? Realistically, nothing. It’s just your brain playing a dirty trick on you. A branch outside your window snaps, it’s just the wind. It’s just the wind because it’s storming out, and a strong wind can break even the sturdiest of branches. That noise you heard in the dead of the night? It was just an animal. Maybe a raccoon or a screech from a barn owl. It wasn’t a clicker. You were safe, so why couldn’t your brain just..turn off? Why was it still stuck in this survival mode when nothing inside Jackson’s strong walls could hurt you.

This sound in particular was different. It was unfamiliar, and unfamiliar meant danger. Scraping, grunts, more scraping; man. The hairs on the back of your neck were standing up as you shot out of bed like a bat out of hell. You kept your shotgun next to your bed because well..you could never be too careful. You never had a reason to use it, but it brought you some form of comfort that you didn’t realize you so desperately needed until Tommy experienced your triggers firsthand when he had accidentally snuck up on you while your back was turned to him behind the counter of your shop. The last time he had seen fear struck that deep inside one person, was the night Sarah died in Joel’s arms. So, Tommy lended you a shotgun as an apology.

He’s out there. He’s trying to get me. I have to run. I have to hide. He’s found me and he—he’s going to take me away.

Your brain was screaming at you as you crept down the steps. Every step you took you feared would be your last. It had been sometime since you experienced an episode as severe as this one. Other times you were able to talk yourself back down to logic. Sometimes you’d resort to unbridled violence, usually on a sack of sugar. This time, you felt as if you had no control over your body's current state. It was as if you were reliving—

Joel had his bad ear facing towards your front door. Between the pain in his back, and the scraping of the metal shovel along the concrete, he wasn’t able to detect the front door creaking open.

His back was facing you as you shakily pointed the barrel of your gun at what you thought was an intruder. Due to the low light from the sun barely peeking over the mountains, all you saw was a darkened figure bent over in the middle of your walkway. Had it been brighter out, perhaps you would have recognized the lone figure to be Joel.

Your ears were ringing loudly as the inner voice inside of your brain was demanding you to shoot. Shoot him and then run, and never look back. Your breath grew shallow as the figure slowly turned around to start on the next snow patch..and then immediately froze.

Joel dropped the shovel with a heavy clank as he slowly raised his hands above his head to show you that he was no immediate threat to your safety. “Beanie? Hey, it’s alright darlin’ it’s just me.”

He’s lying

Your entire body was trembling at the top of the steps as Joel hesitantly took a few steps forward. “Darlin?’” I’m gonna need you to lower the gun now, okay? You’re safe. It’s just me. Nothin’ out here is goin’ to hurt you.” He spoke softly, yet firmly. He kept his hands where you could see them in direct view. He was close enough now that even in the low light, he could see the frightened whites of your eyes as you stood there, unblinking.

“I’m goin’ to take another step towards you, okay? Please don’t shoot me.”

Don’t trust him. He’s one of them. He’s here to hurt you. He’s playing a trick on you.

“Joel?” You stuttered shakily as you finally found your voice.

His heart sunk deep into the pit of his stomach when he picked up on just how terrified you were. He knew it wasn’t directly because of him. Something had happened to you, he knew the look on your face all too well, and it was a good thing he knew how to act calm in a dire situation such as this one.

“Yes, it’s Joel. It’s just me darlin.’” He responded as he took another step towards the foot of the steps leading up to your front porch.

“D—don’t come any closer, please.” You uttered just barely above a whisper as you kept the barrel of your gun trained on him.

“Okay. I won’t come any closer, but I need you to trust me to trust you. Do you understand what I’m saying to you Beanie?” He was careful with his choice of words. Anything too sudden might end up with him potentially getting a bullet to the arm or thigh. Not the chest, please. He silently thought to himself.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I trust you to not shoot me, so I need you to trust me to approach you. Okay? We can do this in baby steps. I just really need you to lower the gun, okay?” His eyes locked on yours as he gave you a reassuring nod.

You blinked a few times as your hands shakily lowered the barrel of the shotgun to the floorboards. Something in you suddenly clicked as the realization of what you had just done, more-so almost done, hit you like a freight train and suddenly you were crumbling right before his eyes.

He let out a visible sigh of relief when your gun was no longer aimed at him, but as soon as your body crumbled to the ground, he jumped into action. His gloved hands were gently wrapped around your shoulders as he spoke softly, yet urgently to you. “Beanie? Hey, you’re alright. You’re alright. I’m right here. You’re safe. You’re safe.” He felt like in those crucial moments it was necessary that he repeat himself just in case you didn’t hear him the first time.

Your eyes were frantically searching his own, pupils dilating under the low light that the early winter morning sky had to offer. He was holding your shoulders so delicately, as if you were fine bone china that would shatter just upon glancing at it. He could feel your muscles trembling under his loose grip. He could feel a hint of anger bubbling in the deep pit of his stomach. The same anger he experienced when he found Ellie— “d’ya..wanna take some deep breaths with me maybe? Or we could count? Sometimes I try’n pick a spot on the wall or somethin’ or count the steps it takes me to get from point A to point B. S’not the best method, but it helps bring me back down to earth.” His tone was so soft, sincere and genuine. If you weren’t such an emotional fucked up wreck, your heart would be melting into a puddle by now.

“Joel..I’m so sorry I-I—didn’t know it was you. I thought you—I thought..” You struggled to articulate a cohesive sentence as his espresso brown eyes bore into yours. He gave you a reassuring nod, and a gentle squeeze along your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s alright. I know you weren’t g’nna shoot me. You were just frightened. Your mind was probably playin’ some trick on you.” He murmured as his thumb was gently stroking back and forth across the fabric of your pajamas on your shoulders. “Y’sure you don’t wanna count?”

“Does..it actually help?” You whispered timidly.

“Sometimes..all depends on what it is that’s triggerin’ me.” He softly responded

“Can you start..please?”

“Course I can darlin.’ We’ll start at Ten.”

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Seven..”

“Six.”

“Five..”

“Four.”

“Three..”

“Two.”

“One.” You murmured in unison.

“Y’feel alright with me helpin’ you up? We can stay down here. S’alright with me.” His arms were fully enclosed around you now. He smelled better than you expected. Of course it helped that Jackson had an abundance of hygiene products available; soap being at the top of the list. He smelled earthy, rugged with a hint of minty freshness..toothpaste maybe.

“I really wasn’t going to shoot you..something just came over me and..I couldn’t stop myself.” You admitted softly.

“Would have been real hard for you to shoot me with the safety on darlin.’” He stifled a chuckle as he could see from the angle he was crouched down at, the safety on your rifle was in fact on. “Who gave you that rifle anyway? Someone outta teach ya to use it..never can be too careful.”

“Tommy gave it to me a few years back.”

“Ah. That does sound like somethin’ my brother would do.” He slowly stood to his feet as he offered you his gloved hand to help you up. “These floorboards are pretty damn wobbly. I can take a look at them when it ain’t so cold out? They probably started warpin’ from the changes in the weather. Might have a few boards that are rotted out.”

“Anything else you wanna fix on my house?” You teasingly asked as you grasped his hand, allowing him to help you up from the current sitting position you were in.

“Honey, I’ve got a whole mental list goin’ on in my head right now. The flood boards could end up bein’ a safety hazard if I don’t check ‘em sooner, rather than later. Your mailbox could use some sprucin’ up. Nothing a bit of paint can’t fix, and your gate is a little crooked. I’d uh—I’d be happy to do it though.” He was rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a sheepish look on his face.

“A whole list, huh? Is that why you were over here at the crack ass of dawn?” There was a ghost of a smile on your lips as you wrapped your arms around your chest to block out the bitter chill.

“Well, I gotta put my carpenter skills to good use somehow, right? Actually..I just woke up this mornin’ and wanted to do somethin’ nice for ya. Y’know after you came over and returned the mug..plus, I couldn’t really sleep all that much. I rarely do these days. Anyway, I’m ramblin’ yet again. The main reason I shoveled your walkway is cus’ I was goin’ to ask you if you’d like to accompany me to breakfast?” His face was flushed, and his cheeks were rosy, but he was certain it wasn’t because of the biting chill.

“You came all this way to shovel my walkway, and find an excuse to ask me out to breakfast?” You couldn’t help the smile that was slowly forming over your lips. It was crazy to think that just five minutes ago you were a complete cluster fuck of an emotional wreck, and now you were smiling like a fool because Joel Miller was proving to you that even in an apocalypse, chivalry was alive and well.

He ignored your question, at first. It wasn’t on purpose, he just was more tuned into your active shivering, and the way you tightened your arms across your chest in a weak attempt to block out the early morning chill.

“Are ya cold?” He asked with a soft rasp. He didn’t allow you the chance to answer as he was already slipping his warm suede jacket off and placing it over your shoulders.

“Thank you..” you whispered in a soft response.

“Of course. I’d feel pretty fuckin’ shitty if I caused ya to catch a cold out here.”

“And I’ll feel the same exact way if you catch one as well. Do you..want to come inside? I can put a fresh pot on?” You were already gesturing to your front door with a soft tilt of your chin in that direction.

“Let me just finish up with your walkway, and then I’d love to join you for a cup of coffee.” He was already heading down the steps to grab his discarded shovel.

“Wait! Joel, your jacket? Don’t you want it back?”

He glanced over his shoulder at you with a tiny grin playing on his lips. “Nah, s’alright darlin.’ The cold ain’t real botherin’ me anyway. Now please, go inside before you actually catch a cold.”

You weren’t one to argue at this early in the morning, and especially when you had yet to indulge in your cup of coffee. You slowly bent down and picked up your rifle and slung the strap over your shoulder before heading back inside. As soon as Joel heard the click of your front door closing, he continued on with shoveling the rest of your walkway.

The coffee grounds were just beginning to steep when he had quietly entered your home. He politely left his boots along the doormat next to yours. He didn’t want to be a rude houseguest and track in any snow. The first thing he noticed about your interior style was that you were anything but a minimalist. You had all sorts of picture frames hanging on the wall. Some were photographs but the others were paintings. Realism, portraits, landscapes, anything your heart desires, you painted it.

He especially took interest in all your knick knacks that were scattered in a clay bowl on the table in the entryway. Old keys, coins, lighters and paper matchboxes. Figurines, tiny porcelain coffee cups. The pads of his fingers brushed over a tiny felt fawn that was sitting atop of all the ‘clutter.’

“Ah. I see you found my bowl of treasures? Well, some people would probably call them junk, but I’ve always been a collector of oddities. Although, I wouldn’t really call them oddities. I think the proper term would be keepsakes?” You had two mugs of steaming coffee in your hands as you approached him. His jacket was still loosely hanging off of your shoulders as he looked over at you.

“Where did you find all of these treasures? Have you been collectin’ them through the years? Ellie’s obsessed with this kinda stuff.” He set the little felt fawn down gently as he reached for the coffee mug. Your fingers gently brushed against one another as he gingerly removed the mug from your hand. “Thank you, by the way. For uh, the coffee.”

“For the most part I have found all of these pieces on my own. Tommy actually found that felt fawn a few months ago. He knew it would bring a smile to my face. Do you want to take it home? I’m sure Ellie would love it. That’s kinda the whole concept of the bowl y’know? When I have guests over, I want them to pick something from it that really speaks to them. As you can see the bowl is quite full, considering I don’t get much company around here.” You brought the rim of your mug to your lips, softly blowing on the rising steam before you took a cautious slow sip.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that Beanie. I don’t wanna take somethin’ from ya that makes ya smile. That was awfully nice of my brother. Y’guys pretty close then?” He was gently leaning his weight back against the edge of the table, ankles crossed as he took a small sip from his own mug. For a split second you couldn’t help but feel the soothing domesticity from the moment you were sharing. Joel’s thick woolen socks, his flushed cheeks from the cold paired with his coat resting along your shoulders. There was something so tender to it all.

“Joel, I insist. Please, take the fawn and give it to your kid. I even have a little box for it so it looks like it’s a present. I’m sure she’ll love it. Anyway, Tommy and I are close. I suppose you could lay it out that way? I owe my life to him and Maria..they were the ones who took me in. I haven’t been outside Jackson since.”

“‘Course you got a little box for it and everythin.’ Alright, I’ll give it to El. You haven’t been outside Jackson in that long?..” He asked with genuine curiosity. He didn’t want to come across like he was prying either. He wanted you to open up to him not because he forced you to, but because you felt comfortable enough around him to show your vulnerabilities.

“I’ve only been outside the town one another time and that was when we found the coffee bean plants in the Colorado nursery. Tommy and Maria were with me of course and—” You paused, remembering how freaked out they were when you started to panic out of the blue. Neither of them could calm you down, and you passed out in Tommy’s arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anythin’ you don’t wanna tell me, alright?” He reached his freehand out and gently placed it along the side of your wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Let me..go get that box for Ellie’s fawn. Did you still want to do breakfast?” You set your mug along the table, you had barely touched it.

“If you’d like to. I’d thoroughly enjoy your company, and you ain’t lived till you’ve tried Maria’s egg casserole, darlin.’” He was grinning boyishly over the rim of his mug.

Man, was he handsome.

“Sounds like her egg casserole is to die for then. I’ll just grab that box, and then get dressed. You alright with hanging out here by yourself for a few minutes?”

“I think I can find a way to keep myself entertained till then.” He assured you.

“Perfect.”

Joel waited until you had disappeared upstairs before he let out a deep sigh as he looked down at the little felt fawn. His brow furrowed as he was deep in thought over what had possibly happened to you when you went outside Jackson with Tommy and Maria. He could connect the dots and piece the puzzle together, and the blaring answer was something bad had happened. What exactly? Now, that was going to take a little bit of time.

You came back downstairs a few minutes later. Dressed in some worn out jeans and a sweater made of pure sheep’s wool. Joel’s jacket was resting along the crook of your arm as you handed him a little felt box that went along with the fawn.

“Keep my jacket. I’ve got plenty at home.” Was the first thing that he uttered as he took the felt box from you and gently placed the fawn figurine inside before tucking it safely away in his pocket.

“Joel, I can’t do that. I’ve got plenty of jackets here as well.”

He wanted to tell you to keep it because he liked the way it looked on you. He kept those thoughts to himself for the time being.

“Alright, I won’t fight ya on it.” He shrugged.

“Good, cause you’ll lose every single time you try.” There was a playful edge to your tone as you placed the jacket back around his shoulders.

“Is that a challenge?” He mused, with his eyebrow quirked upwards.

“Nope. It’s facts.” You grinned.

Yeah, we’ll see about that.

More of Jackson’s residents began to emerge from their homesteads at the shrill sound of the breakfast bell chiming from the mess hall. Joel had respectfully offered you his arm as you descended down the porch steps, and past your crooked gate. You obliged to his offer, wrapping your gloved hand around the crook of his elbow.

You had never felt so many pairs of eyes on you since living in Jackson. Curious, envious, surprised, disgusted? Those were the types of looks you encountered from a handful of Jackson’s residents. The looks you received were mostly from women, and even though the world had ended, jealousy was still brewing.

It wasn’t everyday that Joel Miller came strolling into the mess hall with a pretty thing on his arm. You stood out like two sore thumbs, but it seemed like neither of you were paying much mind to it. Joel was used to the stares. People around here didn’t know much about him, other than the fact that he was Tommy’s older brother and Ellie was..like a daughter to him. They’d see the scars on his hands and arms and split like a sundae. He’d hear the whisperings of who he was, where he came from, and he’d shrug it all off. He much preferred keeping his family close, and everyone else at an arm's reach. He secretly relished in remaining a mystery to most.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tommy spoke in a surprised tone as you and Joel approached the table that he and Maria were currently seated at. “Ya finally get Beanie outta her coffee shell?”

“It appears that I did. Told her about Maria’s egg casserole and she was sold instantly.” Joel reached over and gave his brother a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Ellie stroll through here yet?”

“She came in a few minutes ago with Dina. There sittin’ with their friends ov’there.” Tommy gestured with the end of his fork.

“Thanks. Got somethin’ I wanna give t’her.” He turned towards you then and gave you a reassuring smile. “Why don’t ya go and grab yourself a plate. I’ll come sit with ya in a minute.”

“Do you want me to grab you a plate as well?..”

“You’re a real doll. Thank you, that would be great.” He gave his brother a slight nod before he was sauntering away to where Ellie was sitting. Her and Dina were sitting side by side, shoulders touching.

“Hey, kiddo.” Joel murmured softly.

“Hey, Joel.” Ellie responded, not looking up from her plate. Things between them were..rocky to put it nicely. She loved her dad of course, and after what happened yesterday she thought she’d be okay, but the truth was she wasn’t.

“I uh—don’t mean to bother you and Dina or nothin.’ Jus’ wanted to give this to you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little velvet box and placed it down in front of her. “Beanies got this collection of treasures and I saw this..little fawn, and immediately thought of you kiddo.”

Why can’t I just be good with my words for once in my fuckin’ life?

Ellie could feel tears pricking the corner of her eyes as she gently lifted the lid off the box to reveal the little felt deer encased inside. This small gesture meant more than Joel would ever realize..but Ellie kept her poker face strong.

“Thanks, Joel.”

His heart dipped and sunk like dry sand becoming wet and weighed down from tumultuous waves crashing upon the shore. It was a small step in what he hoped was the direction of forgiveness.

“You’re welcome, kiddo.” He cleared his throat before he ambled away back to the table where the rest of his family were sitting. He had only known you for less than twenty four hours, and he already thought of you as family. He didn’t count all the times before outbreak day only because that part of himself had died along with Sarah. Or, so he thought.

“El..he’s trying at least.” Dina was resting her chin along Ellie’s shoulder as they were both gazing down at the little felt fawn.

“He is.” Ellie murmured softly.

Joel took a seat across from you as you were sitting next to Maria, gushing over her egg casserole, and how Joel was absolutely right about you not living until you tried it.

He thought you looked so pretty with a soft smile on your face as you looked at Maria with genuine adoration.

At nightfall, Joel, Tommy and a few other men were out patrolling. With the winter being so harsh, there were more chances of man wandering through these parts. Stragglers were one thing, raiders? That was a whole other story. Joel and Tommy took to the east on horseback. The longer winter night was dead silent. There was no howling wind to whip against the bone dry branches. No low hoot from an owl. It was quiet, too quiet. Even the horse’s hooves were nearly undetectable from how soft and careful they were stepping into the snow.

The only light source they had was the brightly lit moon shining in the jet-black sky. The stars scattered about weren’t nearly as brilliant as the moon.

Joel broke through the silence as he adjusted the strap of his rifle over his shoulder. “Tommy?..” he started, “do you know what happened to Beanie?..”

Tommy let out a huff of air as the bitter cold burned his lungs. He averted making eye contact with his brother before he was met with no other choice but to finally make eye contact with him. “It ain’t my place to tell you that, brother. I’m sorry.” He sounded defeated with his words because he didn’t want to keep anything hidden from Joel. Not after all those years they had spent apart from one another.

“You better give me a real fuckin’ reason why you can’t tell me. Tommy, she nearly fuckin’ shot me this mornin’ because she thought I was a threat. That I was a danger to her life. You can’t tell me anythin?’” Joel whispered back, harsher than he had wanted but he didn’t like being left out of the loop.

“Joel,” Tommy hissed under his breath, “Even if I knew the exact details of what that woman went through, I wouldn’t be able to disclose them to you.”

“Why the hell not?” Joel quipped back.

“Because, because..she ain’t got’a fuckin’ clue about what happened to herself either, Joel.”

What?

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Chapter 4:

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raevenlywrites · 1 year

Text

Do you know how to sew poll

My tags

#church youth group by hand#punishment for being kicked out of school by machine

@inscrutably-coy tags

#i've done both but I'm not great at either#also raev I want to hear this story

Not that interesting I'm afraid. I was kicked out of my last two weeks of senior year and my mom thought I did it to spite her so she insisted I still learn something with those last two weeks so she made me learn how to sew (we worked together on some basic peasant tops and skirts I wore to renfair later that summer)

...okay, maybe it is that interesting? Lemme set the scene

The year is 2004. 9/11 is still very fresh in the small minds of my small rural town, and the powers that be (vice principal with little man complex) already hate me bc I'm goth and smarter than he is etc etc.

Be Me. Be voted "Delightfully Different" for the year book superlatives. Goth it up for picture day bc I know why tf I got voted this way. Give the people what they want. Dress like the motherfucking Crow.

(Fun aside, my now wife then girlfriend and I are responsible for SEVERAL amendments to the school dress code, including a beautiful line about "no trench coats, dusters, cloaks, opera capes, or other such outwear that hits below the knee. anyway)

Be me again, sick but at school bc that's how it fucken works. gotta train up teh work force etc etc. So i'm sick, tired, and in my fucking pjs bc fuck that noise. Get pulled out of homeroom by the wardrobe police (librarian) and be fed some bullshit line about how my pics for the year book "didn't turn out". On a digital camera. Bitch fuck you. whatever. take my picture, get out of my face, i hate you all.

Back in homeroom, buddy asks me what that was all about. me, grumpy, explains the above bullshit. complains, goes to last period.

get called to the office

principal mc inferiority complex stares at me, I stare at him. he asks if I have any idea why i'm here. i had honestly assumed it was to receive another scholarship and have my pic taken for the news paper, as has already happened a few times this month. smart senior, remember? so I just stare. Prin. Bullshit tries to do a hard ass routine, all cop drama style, am I sure I don't know why i'm here etc etc. I honestly have no idea and say as much. Something I said maybe? he asks smugly. Nope, no bells my dude. Something threatening?

Dear reader, I am truly lost. I'm sick, have a headache the size of texas, and just wanna go back to choir, the one period I share with my gf. I finally do the adult thing (sad but one of us had to be) and tell him I truly have no idea why I'm here so if he could just tell me we could both move on with our days.

He tells me a fellow student overheard me making a bomb threat.

I am floored. I do not recall saying such a thing because I didn't fucking say such a thing. I go over my conversations in my head, and it is only now after the fact that I realize what I must have said. in my tired teen tirade, I invoked the dreaded columbine and said something to the effect of "[in regards to my goth wear] it's like they're afraid I'm going to shoot up the school or something".

I really don't remember if I pieced that together there or later. I truly didn't care. Old dude says they can sett me up with ISS (in school suspension) which would take a week to set up so I'd only be in there for like three days anyways, or, and this is clearly his smug preference, I got home and never set foot on school property again.

This is, of course, the dream scenario. Finals are done; this last two weeks of school is seniors dicking around and practicing for graduation. I have no interest in any of this. It does not feel lik ea celebration or milestone to have slept my way through four years of high school. I gleefully accept his terms and drive myself home in my hot pink geo tracker I wrecked so that mom would let me paint it purple while it was in the body shop anyways (trying to impress a girl. it clearly worked, she married me)

Mom is furious. Swears I did this on purpose. I wish I had thought of it, honestly. Two weeks of crash course home ec ensue. I learn to sew on a machine and wear adorably bland peasant top to ren fair.

Graduation comes, I don't go (banned from school property). Friends after teh fact tell me that 1) the choir doesn't sing alma mater bc my beautiful gf refused to sing w/o me present, and we were the alto section. Popular girl in my grade who is unthinkably sweet and everyone loves and we were on the basketball team together in 7th grade goes on and on about how awful the person who made up lies about me must be and how terrible they must feel etc etc. Snitch is in that class, has to heard it, wants to die on the spot. Absentee victory.

See above where I was smart. Top 10 in my class. Announcer goes to read the students names. "Announcing, the top 10 graduates of 2004. Number 9..." Just skipped right the fuck over me. Goddamned hilarious.

So basically this is the story of how the adults in my life made fools of themselves and I had my Ferris Buehler's Day Off of it all.

And also sewed my younger sibling a monkey for their birthday.

#long post

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godesssiri · 1 year

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My family owns a small rest home, 9 years ago we had an old man come in and he bought his 7-year-old, 1.6kg, one-eyed, chihuahua/shitzhu. Lucy, a tiny dog with an attitude about a hundred times the size of her body. She had one eye because she'd tried to chase down a campervan on one of the busiest roads in town - if you could have asked her I sure she'd say she had won that fight. My mother once saw her run off the next door neighbor's rottweiler cross - it had it's tail between it's legs. When her owner died Mum took Lucy and she has been part of the family ever since.

She went to work with Mum every day and had a bed under the desk in the office - or on the lap of any resident she chose, Lucy loves nothing more in life than a lap to sit on, and maybe some cake. We had a resident named Frances, bad dementia, attitude as big as Lucy's and she was just as lovable in her curmudgeonly way. Her husband, Dick, used to come visit every day, they were a life-long love story. 50+ years of marriage and he still used to call her by the nickname he gave her when they were young lovers - Dreamy. Lucy absolutely loved Dick, every day when he arrived she would stand in front of him and do a little dance and give her special "I'm so glad to see you! Let me catch you up on everything that's been going on" bark - Awoowoowoowoo. When he got sick and the hospital told him he was going to die very soon and he could die at home if he wanted to, we might possibly have bent the rules slightly and instead of him going home on his own with a hospice nurse we got him discharged to us and he came to the rest home for his final week. He wasn't officially a resident, we took him off the books at no charge because we loved him and if he'd gone home he wouldn't have had anyone visiting and he wouldn't have been able to come in and see Francis - she died a week after him, she was very grumpy that he'd died and left her so she followed him. When Dick died we had to lock Lucy in a room so the undertaker could take him away, she somehow escaped and Mum looked out the office window to see this little dog chasing the hearse down the driveway - how dare they take her friend.

Lucy is 16. We thought she was going to die Christmas before last but she rallied and lasted another 16 months. But we're taking her to the vet tomorrow, it's time, she's stopped eating. I've been cuddling her and telling her it's ok, she's been a good dog, she's gotten Mum through one of the toughest times in her life, she's taught my Step-Dad to love animals, she's given our 2 other rescue dogs a Pack and taught them how to be pampered pets, she's been a wonderful friend to so many. Tomorrow she is going to go and see Dick and tell him Awoowoowoowoo.

#i am bawling #tomorrow will be tough

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bootleg-sara · 1 year

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I wanted to talk about the personalities of each of the Isaac here! The original post was more about the AUs, so I’m gonna take a shot at describing the characters themselves a small bit

Link to original post here

Going in order like last time:

Basement- The closest to canon Isaac personality wise. A small, scared child trying to survive a ruthless basement. He’s both the most scared and level-headed kid of the whole group. Feels an extreme amount of guilt for causing everyone to fall into the basement (indirectly, mind you). He’s around 10 years old and really just wants to go home. He’s a walking contradiction in a lot of ways. He wants to help you! But also will avoid interacting with you most times. He’s scared of everything, but also one of the most confident kids. He’s just a kid who means well and wants everyone to get out of this hell before he does.

Purgatory- I could talk about this one for ages, but I’ll keep it on the short end for everyone’s sake. Isaac Moriah is a 17 year old teen working through his last year high school while also dealing with his soul traveling to the afterlife every night. He’s an anxious mess who’d rather be left alone on most days. Which very clearly shows itself by his space in the basement being littered with random trinkets and other garbage. Dude’s a massive hoarder. Most of his comfort comes from his video games and art. Being able to express himself without getting others involved. His only close friend is Lazarus, the school’s local popular boy. When Isaac is comfortable around you, he is much more sassy and playfully tongue-in-cheek. He struggles deeply with his identity. Being unable to identify his body as his own on his worst days. A lingering dread that his own mind isn’t really his. Having your soul ripped out from your body every night can have some less than ideal effects.

Parasite- An old pastor of the Christian church before the world fell into ruin. Puts a lot of his well being into his faith, hoping that his beliefs will also bring comfort to many others during these trying times. Isaac means well, he genuinely wants to help people just for the sake of being a good man. But he also does put a little to much emphasis on Christianity sometimes. No Isaac, not everyone believes this event is the starting times of revelations. He’s not one to judge someone’s life because it doesn’t fall in line with his own. Everyone deserves to be saved and to have some comfort in his eyes. Isaac’s main stay in this au is starting a camp of non-parasite havers, protecting themselves from the violence outside. While the camp prides itself in its very anti-parasite ways, Isaac himself does have one. Though it’s relatively harmless (as far as he knows) and he doesn’t want people to lose hope again.

Sacrifice- Random ass office worker lmao. 9-5 hours, barely getting by kind of man. In a romantic relationship with Eve. Average in almost every way. Usually well spirited, sometimes a bit grumpy. Was definitely not expecting to be dragged into a death match where he’d be killing people over and over again (and dying a lot himself) for the sake of gaining arbitrary “points”. He’s not at all about this life style, but doesn’t have much of a choice. His Guardian Angel buddy let’s him use some magic-like abilities in the form of his D6 staff. A completely randomized weapon that doesn’t seem to have nearly as much use as everyone else’s magic. But you’d be surprised at how good Isaac is about thinking on his toes.

9 Lives- Little baby man. Baby. Baby man. A high spirits kid in a world that seemingly wants him dead for no real reason. Can’t catch a break and always finding himself in trouble. He’s gone through multiple lives at this point, but doesn’t remember any of them in detail. His only familiarity is his cat Guppy’s corpse he drags around with him and the D6 lodged into his left hand. A D6 which can give him useful abilities for any situation! If he can roll high enough, that is. Being a small kid, his life is aimless. Mainly just looking for someplace where he can stay and rest.

New God- The newly appointed God that is destined to make the new world in the wake of the current one’s failure. They have the mind of a child and is relatively young for a God. Being trained to make the new world together with Eden and Azazel. Almost never actually called Isaac, instead more formal names like “Young God” or “New God”. Prone to the usual kid problems like throwing temper tantrums when he can’t get what he wants. He has no true alignment, simply a baby God in training.

Cursed- Another baby man. Living his life as someone who is cursed to bring terrible fates to everyone he comes into contact with, he hid himself in the basement of his old home to avoid hurting more people. He’s shy, anti-social, terribly afraid of hurting everyone. But damn is he absolutely adorable too. His only consist buddy is Azazel, the demon that cursed him in the first place (needless to say he feels a little bad about it). Isaac finds it hard to connect to anyone, but slowly is trying to find his own faith in himself again.

Armageddon- Purgatory Isaac but with even more anxiety! Now with the massive responsibility of having to lead an army of angels into war with the anti christ during the end of days. Spends all his days holed up on Eden until he is called into action. He really doesn’t like his job.

Soul Bond- Tbh I don’t have nearly as much on this one. He breaks and makes bonds because he lost his own, it’s how he can stay around for so long. Surprisingly selfish and works mostly for himself.

Adult- Basement Isaac grew up and now he’s just miserable all the time. Having to raise and care for Eden (who is a full adult too) while also struggle with his career as an artist. Constantly stressed and really deserves a break. Doesn’t take shit from anyone. His confidence stayed with him after all these years. He’s a strong-willed man! Just in desperate need of a spa day.

Angel- What’s up? It’s Isaac, he’s 19, and never fucking learned how to read. He died at the age of 5, growing up in heaven under the watch of angels. Other than some nervous ticks he still has, and the knife he keeps on him at all times, dude’s chill. He’s buddies with Esau and is the resident crazy cat man. He has cat everything and nothing can stop him. He enjoys art in his free time and loves going on walks with his favorite cat Guppy. Guppy has three legs but we still love him.

Ultra Pride AU- It’s just in-game isaac. That’s it. Not even joking. The only main difference is he didn’t make the basement in his mind. He just found himself in it after being locked in the chest.

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thecorazone · 1 year

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OC questions based @just-captain-thoughts ask post.

(Because I know no one would ask me and I want to flesh my characters out. Any questions I answered already in my character sheets I will not answer again) ((I will post link to asks at a later time))

Kota-8

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1. Where was your guardian raised?

Kota was rezzed in the wilds of Alaska in an old hunting cabin.

5. Defining features?

His small stature, especially compared to Xäræswulf as well as a well dented and scratched body.

8. How do they view their revival?

He is very much in the "what the traveler did was a selfish and disrespect act" Camp. Seeing warlords wielding their power they way they did, made Kota resentful of the traveler.

9. Guardians preferred weapon?

Kota prefers submachine guns, linear fusions, heavy grenade launchers, snipers, bows and handcannons.

11. Guardians subclass?

Kota was a born Nightstalker when he first rezzed as it resonated strongly with his pre-rez hunter lifestyle. Over the years, he started leaning more into bladedancer and arcstrider as he liked the flow of it.

12. Is your guardian picky or a hoarder when it comes to weapons and materials?

He collects and uses only what he needs. He is like Xäræswulf when it comes to weapons, though he was used to using the bare minimum in the first place in the dark age.

13. Is your guardian stealthy or "Stealthy"?

He is a hunter and small, so stealth is a given. Kota can enter a room full of people and not be detected, without any use of the void. (Assassin's creed style)

14. Guardians view on the factions?

He has an intense dislike for all factions. Eliksni were at the forefront for years until Misraaks house joined the city and Caiatl allied with the vanguard. He still doesn't fully trust them till this day. He abhorred the human factions as he believed they undermined the unity of the city the lightbearers fought so hard for.

15. Is your guardian friendly with any of the eliksni houses?

No, and Kota is barely amicable to Misraaks and his house.

16. How do the different factions view the guardian?

Most don't know he exists, so he is a deadly shadow for many of them. The human factions view him as a obstacle to reach the good favor of the Young Wolf as he kept Xäræswulf from considering allying with them.

17. How old are they?

Since Kota was rezzed around the middle of the dark age, he is over 800 years old.

18. Do they remember much of their past life?

No, but due to where he was rezzed, he gathered that he was a reclusive, old world survivalist. He also learned that he survived for a time after the collapse.

19. If your guardian left audio logs behind like Cayde, what would they say and who would they address?

Kota would not leave behind audio logs

20. Is your guardian jaded or bitter, or still doggedly determined?

Kota is very jaded and the only reason he hasn't struck out on his own was his ghost Aurora and his fireteam members Admes and Xäræswulf. As the eldest, he felt responsible for them and did not want to leave them without guidance. He won't admit it, but their faith and determination have inspired him to keep trying.

21. What do the vanguard think of them?

Cayde liked to irritate Kota as he reminded him of Zavalas stick in the mud attitude. Kota was also one of his oldest and most experienced hunters, so he valued his Intel.

Zavala and Kota do not see eye to eye and haven't for years. Due to his sheer experience, Zavala keeps him around.

Ikora is of the same opinion, but has far less contact with Kota than Zavala

22. What does their ghost think of them?

Aurora and Kota have been partnered for centuries and are practically inseparable. Aurora thinks Kota is a grumpy old man but wouldn't trade him for the world.

23. How many exotics do they have?

Many, as Admes and he shared exotics for the longest time. He does not touch Xäræswulf's as he gets very snippy.

24. When or if they die, what will they leave behind ?

He would leave behind items or weapons that would best benefit those he left behind. He would leave the legacy of a long-lived hunter.

25. If they had a unique exotic, what would it be and what would the flavor text say?

No exotic come to mind.

26. How long did it take them to get to the last city?

Considering the fact he was around before the city itself, centuries. It still took years after the city was but to convince him to travel to it.

27. What were their first thoughts upon seeing the traveler for the first time?

Bitter and angry at all the suffering it caused. At how after everything, people still flocked to it and called it a God.

28. Their reaction to Caydes death?

Kota flew into rage and despair after Caydes death and had to be physically locked down and watched to keep him from headhunting Uldren.

29. What did they feel when they lost their light during the Red War?

Betrayal at the traveler. It couldn't do the one thing It needed to do for the people that believed in it. It took his friend Xäræswulf to risk everything to save the city while the traveler did nothing.

30. If your guardian lost their ghost, what would their reaction be?

He would go on a bloody vendetta against those who killed aurora, whether or not he or died. If he survived, he would wander into the wild and not come back.

31. If they died, what would the city's reaction be?

The City would never know.

32. What would their Vanguard think of the guardians' death?

Cayde would think of Kotas death as the loss of a another great hunter and friend. He would also see it as another hunter living to his fullest.

33. Guardians favorite weapon?

Kotas favorite weapon is Conditional Finality for the sheer enjoyment of using the weapon.

34. Least favorite weapon?

Autorifles as they don't mesh with his mobility all that well.

35. Guardians preferred look?

His baggy pants and hoodie are by far his favorite look.

36. What ship do they fly and what does holiday think of it?

He hasn't found a ship he likes, so he switches constantly, much to Amanda's chagrin.

37. How is their flying?

Excellent, he has had years of practice

38. Which faction would they have killed the most?

Eliksni far outclass the others

39. What was your guardian before they were a Guardian? Do they know?

He was an old world survivalist who isolated himself from the modern world in the far reaches of Alaska. He has some idea, but he is only working with context clues, so he cannot be certain.

40. How long was your guardian dead before they were revived?

He died sometime before the collapse and was rezzed in the middle of the dark age, so around 800 years.

41. What does Shaxx think of their fighting and performance in the crucible?

He can barely see him half the time and guardians die, so why not cheer for another SEVENTH COLUMN!

42. How loyal are they to the city and the traveler? What would have to happen to test it?

He is loyal to very specific people in and outside the city and not the city or traveler themselves. He has already been tested during the Red War and survived only do to Xäræswulfs courage in adversity and Admes faith in the idea of the city.

43. If your guardian is the type for it, what is their method of pranking?

He is not a prankster in the slightest.

44. What do other guardians think of them?

A stick-in-the-mud, grumpy old guardian.

45. Do they fit class stereotypes?

No, he is very serious and structured compared to the wild and goofy hunter stereotypes.

46. Are they no nonsense type or jokey type?

He is the no nonsense type of guardian and tends to the be responsible older brother. He likes to hide the fact that he could laugh at the stupidest things.

47. Guardians worst fear?

Losing Admes and Xäræswulf. His friends and family.

48. Guardians favorite Food?

Kota likes seafood as well as fruit and vegetables

49. Guardians favorite location?

Earth though more specifically polar and pine forest regions

50. What is your guardians view on gambit?

Hates it and the drifter. Feels like it tempts guardians to the darkness too often.

Part 1

#destiny 2 #destiny oc #destiny exo #destiny hunter

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promotional-dvd · 2 years

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Why Aaron Hotchner Is The Perfect Dilf

Some may say my statement is bold because men like Chris Evans, Henry Cavill and Jon Bernthal exist, but I say Aaron Hotchner beats them all in terms of looks, personality and overall dilfiness. There is a certain criteria you need to fulfil in order to be considered a dilf. You must be:

Aged between 37-65 (anything older is a Gilf)

Dress for their age - e.g cable knit sweaters, polo shirts and clothes fathers/older men often wear

Needs wrinkles

Have a seemingly mean, intimidating or grumpy exterior but be cuddly and warm

They must partake in some kind of old man activity such as Golf or Tennis

They need children or at least be aiming to have kids in the future

I'd like to start by discussing Hotch’s appearance. He's 6’2 with black hair and has a fairly muscular build but not overly muscular more so bordering on a dad bod. All of these elements combine to create a dream. I would like to draw attention to his eyebrows. As stated in the criteria, having a seemingly intimidating presence is very important and Aaron Hotchner does it so well. His eyebrows fully create the desired look and appeal with how they are constantly furrowed in anger and how his face rarely changes from its grumpy state. Furthermore, his deep voice strengthens the intimidation as in 95% of all dangerous situations he's in he remains calm which can cause the people around him to feel small and weak and pathetic. Hotch also wears a suit a majority of the time which creates a sense of professionalism and superiority. However, he fulfils this point on the criteria due to his sentimental and cuddly nature he keeps behind his serious and dark persona. We are most often shown it when he's with his son Jack. He is shown to be one of the most caring members of the team and is constantly looking out for everyone and looking hot while doing it. He also keeps and maintains his body hair which gives him an extra dose of dad bodness.

Thomas Gibson was 43 when Criminal Minds began and was 53 when he eventually left the show in season 12. These ages are peak dilf and we get to experience all of them throughout the long running crime show. As the show goes on he develops more wrinkles around his eyes and forehead where the best dilfs possess them.

In one episode, he returns with a beard and let me tell you, it is the most amazing and sexy thing I have ever witnessed. His dilfiness went through the roof and I couldn't believe it. It felt like heaven. His dress sense also fits perfectly into the criteria and throughout the show he wears many dilfy outfits. He most often wears a black fleece shirt/jacket or a polo shirt of varying colours. These items of clothing accentuate his dilfiness as they are common items amongst older men and create a sense of comfort and relaxation. Sometimes he wears a dress shirt with 1-3 buttons undone when solving cases in a hot climate which makes him that much more attractive. Also, he wears tan pants on many occasions which cement his dilfiness as they are a crime to fashion and old men do not care about looks only about comfort. The underwear that he wears also shows his age as they are loose blue striped boxers which in the media are commonly shown on old men with younger men leaning towards tight fitting Calvin Klein boxers or briefs.

As previously mentioned, Hotch is a single father to his son Jack after his ex-wife haley was murdered in season 5 episode 9 by the Reaper, a serial killer Aaron had been tracking for years. Being a single father increases an individual's dilfiness tenfold as it shows he is capable and smart and makes him an official Dilf as he is actually father. Looking deeper into Hotch's personal life, his favourite band is the Beatles of which Rossi rightly mocks him for. Typically, only old men and gay people like the Beatles.

In conclusion, Aaron Hotchner is the most perfectly written Dilf to have ever graced my eyes. He has the looks and the personality that align perfectly with the Dilf criteria and it makes me insane. So Aaron Hotchner is the perfect man and you can argue with the wall. Thanks and Bye.

#aaron hotchner #thomas gibson #criminal minds #dave rossi #i spent way too much time on this #just sharing #my thoughts

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icerosecrystal · 3 years

Text

An Unexpected Turn Of Events

Mominette Month 2021

Day 01 - Find A Child

Masterlist

Authors note: Hi, everyone! Just one quick to let you all know so that this fic is not confusing for you. This fic is a reverse Robin fic. In other words, Dick is the youngest instead of the eldest, and Damian is the oldest instead of the youngest. This same thing applies to all of the other bat children as well.

Marinette sighed in relief as she finished rifling through her purse. She had woken up late and had hastily left her hotel room for her consultation. She had thankfully not left behind anything that she would need during the consultation. Feeling a bit paranoid, she looked once more through her purse, and there was the tape measure, pencils, notebook, sewing kit, and the NDAs. She may or may not have flipped through the grimoire belonging to the guardians and found the spell for expanding the space in her purse to be the way it was for her yo-yo when she transforms into Ladybug. Unlike her yo-yo, the expansion was still limited. But the extra space was still beneficial.

As Marinette was walking, she pulled out her phone to look at the time. 9:50, she thought, leaves me enough time to get to Wayne Tower by 10:00 if I want to be on time. As she was putting her phone away, she felt something hit her legs and torso. She let out a slight oof at the unexpected weight against her lower body. As she peered down, she saw a cute boy, probably around eight years old clinging onto her legs. He had black hair, and as he looked up at her with teary eyes, she saw the most devastating sparkling blue eyes she had ever seen. His slightly chubby cheeks were flushed pink, and his nose also had a pink tinge to it. The flushness was probably a result of the choked sobs he was currently letting out.

As Marinette looked around, she realized that none of the nearby grown-ups looked to be his parents, nor did they look like they were missing a child. She bent down and smiled softly at him, hoping to calm him down a bit. After a beat or two, her smile seemed to do the trick, and his sobs reduced down to a few tears. Once she knew that he had calmed down, she softly whispered, “ Hey, honey. Are you lost? Do you want me to find your parents?”

He sniffled a few times before replying with a slight tremor in his voice, “Yes. Please help me find my Boose.”

“Your Boose?” Marinette questioned.

“Yes,” he slightly whimpered, “Boose is my new daddy. My other daddy and mommy had to say goodbye to me.”

Marinette gasped in shock at his words. This poor kid, so young, and yet his parents were gone. Dead. Marinette thought about the many akumas which her parents didn’t survive. She then shook herself out of her thoughts. Come on, Marinette. Stop worrying about yourself all time. Your parents are okay now. But this kid is lost! Get out of your head! Steeling herself, she gently asked him, “What’s your name, hon? Mine is Marinette, but you can call me Mari..”

Surprised by the kindness and warmth in her voice, he stuttered out, “Richard… but I like Dick better. Richard sounds old. I’m not old!” He then shyly added, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. You have a pretty name.”

Marinette smiled as she saw his confidence growing with every word he spoke. Marinette laughed aloud at the words he shyly said, “It’s nice to meet you too.” She then questioned, “Do you remember where your daddy is?”

Dick was now bouncing on his heels, and he squealed out in excitement, “Yes! My daddy is in the big, tall building with the huge ‘W’ on it!”

The corners of her mouth twitched in amusement. Dick’s excitement was infectious. His words then caught up to her. Well! It looked like luck was on her side after all! She would have enough time to get Dick back to his dad and still be on time for her consultation. She stood back up and then smiled down at him, “Well, I’m heading there too! So why don’t I take you back to your daddy?”

Dick nodded his head rapidly before holding her hand with his much smaller one. They then started walking towards Wayne Tower. Dick continued to babble on about the most random of things. He talked about his grumpy older brother, who it seemed begrudgingly liked him. He also discussed the many pets his older brother had. It also seemed like Dick’s adoptive dad had a slight problem with adopting too many children from what could be told from the many siblings that Dick mentioned.

When the door of Wayne Tower came into sight, Dick stopped talking, allowing them to walk in comfortable silence. As she was about to speak to ask him where in the building his father worked or the name of his dad, Dick blurted out, “I like you, Miss Mari. Can you be my mommy? I don’t have a new one yet!”

Marinette stopped in shock before trying to stutter out something, anything, but all of her words were incoherent. What do you say in response to a question like that, she thought to herself? She saw Dick looking at her for an answer, and after a while, he decided to pull out some puppy eyes. Shoot! Marinette thought. I need to say something to stall for time. At least until I get him to his dad. She reassured him, “I am thinking about my answer, Dickie! But how about we first get back to your daddy, and then we talk about it?”

Dick contemplated her words before nodding in agreement and practically bouncing through the doors. Marinette sighed in relief and also walked through the doors. Her head was down as she speculated what she should do about Dick’s question. Suddenly, a rough voice spoke up in front of her, “Hello. Ms. Dupain-Cheng, I presume.”

Marinette lifted her head, and there in front of her was Bruce Wayne, her newest client. And clinging to him was the very boy that was holding her hand just seconds ago. She suddenly remembered hearing something about Bruce Wayne adopting the son of some acrobats who were in an accident. The name of the kid was Richard Grayson! She hadn’t made the connection!

Realizing that Bruce was looking for an answer, she hastily stuck out her hand, stuttering, “That is correct, Monsieur Wayne. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

He stared at her hand before gently taking it and raising the back of her hand to his lips. “Please, the pleasure is all mine. Let’s make our way upstairs.”

She blushed at his gentlemanly actions before squeaking out a small, “Let’s.” The three of them climbed into the elevator and went to the top floor of the building. The doors of the elevator opened up, and Bruce gestured for her to go first. She did so and looked around at the beautiful interior of the building that she had not yet noticed. Bruce then opened up the door to what seemed to be his office. Inside she saw there to be seven kids. She smiled at them in greeting. Most of them smiled back at her. The exception to this was what looked to be the oldest and one of the younger ones. (Damian and Jason, if you didn’t figure it out.)

Marinette felt Bruce step closer so that he was next to her before he spoke once more, “These are all of my children, biological, adopted, or otherwise.” He pointed to the man with stunning green eyes stating, “This is my oldest son, Damian. He’s 22.” Damian gave a tight-lipped smile in response, along with a slight tilt of his head.

Next, Bruce gestured to what looked to be the second oldest saying, “This is Tim. He’s 18 years old.” He was sipping coffee and giving the briefest of nods to her. He looked seconds away from collapsing.

He then acknowledged a blonde girl, remarking, “This is Stephanie, but she likes to be called Steph. She’s 17 years old.” The girl seemed to be bouncing in place and close to bursting from excitement.

He pointed to a rough-looking boy stating, “This here is Jason. He just turned 15. He’s a few months older than the next youngest.” The boy smirked at Marinette in acknowledgment of his introduction.

Bruce finally gestured to a girl with Asian features saying, “This is Cassandra or Cass. She’s 14, but like I said, a few months younger than Jason.” The girl seemed to be peering through her very soul. After gazing for a few seconds, she hummed in what Marinette deemed to be satisfied as if she liked what she saw.

Bruce then turned towards her, “And you’ve already met Richard or Dick. Thank you for bringing him back.”

Marinette smiled in acknowledgment of his compliment before replying, “It was nothing Monsieur Wayne. He was all alone, so I had to help him. But he was delightful the whole time. Now as for what I came here for, what type of clothes have you been looking for–”.

But before she could continue, Dick blurted out, “Daddy, I like Ms. Mari! Can we keep her? I want her to be my mommy!”

The result was instant. The room burst into a flurry of noises, each of Bruce’s kids trying to speak over one another. Marinette was blushing very brightly. In fact, from how hot her face felt, she was sure that she was inventing new shades of red. Marinette looked over to see Bruce’s reaction and squeaked when she saw him staring at her with a sharp, analytical gaze.

Marinette took a few breathes to calm herself down. She then softened both her gaze and voice as she addressed Dick, “Dickie, honey, as much as I loved meeting you and talking with you, I, unfortunately, cannot be your mommy. Bruce is your daddy, and he will someday find a lovely lady who will be your mommy.”

At her last sentence, all or most of the kids seemed to have snorted in amusement. It seemed as if they disagreed with her statement. Dick looked sad and seemed to be growing teary-eyed. Marinette looked over to Bruce for some help but only found him concealing the amusement that he was most likely feeling quite well. If she hadn’t been Ladybug, she probably would have never noticed the slight bit of emotion peaking through his mask. She glared at him reproachfully as if saying, this is your kid, so you need to help me convince him that I would not make a good mother.

He rolled his eyes in return as if trying to say, Don’t kid yourself. You would make an excellent mother. And you’re already attached to him, don’t deny it.

As Marinette sighed in response, Bruce turned away from her towards Dick and knelt to his level. He then gently said, “Now Dick. Miss Mari can’t be your mommy.” Marinette started nodding as if agreeing with Bruce’s words. But then stopped when he continued, “But she can visit you and maybe one day be your mommy.”

Marinette opened and closed her mouth, no words coming out. Before shyly looking down before raising her head, stammering, “Well, I guess I could visit.”

All the kids started cheering in response. The exception to this was Damian. But the corner of his lips was slightly raised as if the start of a smile. Dick bounded over to her, hugging her and babbling out everything he wanted to do with her. And in all the chaos, Marinette’s and Bruce’s eyes met. They both exchanged small smiles.

Marinette then clapped her hands together, reminding them, “I do still have to do a consultation with all of you. So how about we do that, and then we can do something fun together?” Seeing everyone’s nods, Marinette then continued with the consultation. But unbeknownst to anyone in the room, their relationship would change drastically in the coming months. But ultimately, it would change for the better.

One Year Later

It has been a year since the faithful day when Dick requested Marinette to be his mom. And since then, they only seemed to grow closer. She had met Alfred, Bruce’s Psuedo father and the children’s pseudo grandfather. She thought that he was extraordinary. And honestly godsent. She also experienced a lot of adventures with the Waynes. In fact, after only four months of knowing each other, she figured out that they were the Bat-Family. She had caught them once after patrol and raised her eyebrow as if demanding an answer, and god did she get an answer from them!

Marinette and Bruce had also started dating. This change in their relationship occurred a few weeks after she found out their identities. They were now engaged to be married in a few months. All the children had warmed up to Marinette over the months, even Damian, who always withheld his emotions. But they had all come to see her as their mother figure and were ever so grateful for her. And so they wanted to do something for her birthday.

The very morning of her birthday, everything went wrong. Marinette woke up to quite the sight. All over the kitchen was what looked to be cake batter. It seemed as if they were trying to put the baking she had taught them to good use, but they had also made the cake batter explode. Marinette and Bruce stared at the mess before they both started laughing. Marinette had a light, melodic laugh, while Bruce had a very gruff laugh.

Marinette beckoned all of them forward for a hug before proclaiming, “I love that you all were trying to do something for me, but none of you had to do anything. But it’s the thought that counts, so thank you. But next time, please stay away from the kitchen.”

She then shooed them on their way before getting two mops, handing one to Bruce as she passed by him. She kissed him on the cheek before starting to clean up the mess, Bruce following her actions. She then quietly snickered, “Well, this was quite a sight to wake up to on your birthday. I would have thought that today would have been relaxing.”

She looked up to see Bruce shoot her a small look before shaking his head in amusement. “Mari, darling, when has our lives with them ever been relaxing? They are always getting into trouble.”

She snorted in response, “Yes, well, they get it from their father.”

Bruce glared at her lightly before pulling her into a deep kiss, “I don’t know. Their mother seems to be just as chaotic sometimes.”

She shook her head in amusement, pulling herself away from Bruce’s embrace and questioning, “How is this even my life anymore?”

He chuckled lightly, alerting her that he was about to sass her in some way. “Well, from what I remember, about a year ago, you came across this kid that–”

Marinette held up a finger to his mouth, stopping him from uttering another word. She was also glaring at him reproachfully. “Yes, I do know-how. I was there. Now go away so that I can clean up the rest of the kitchen. You’re distracting me.”

He let go of his mop before giving her another deep kiss and then darting away. As he strolled out of the room, he shouted over his shoulder, “Oh, I know how distracting I am. I am well aware of how irresistible I am, ma coccinelle.” He could hear her spluttering in response before yelling back at him, but he continued on his way to his office. Along the way, he chuckled to himself.

Back in the kitchen, Marinette was glaring at nothing. She was also plotting ways to show her fiance who the irresistible one was. She then sighed in happiness. Yes, her life was amazing. A year ago, if someone told her this would be her life, she wouldn’t have believed it. But now she was living it, and god was it amazing. Funny what finding a child will do to you, Marinette thought to herself before carrying on with her task of cleaning up the mess her kids had made. Yeah, life was amazing.

2,683 words

I actually got it done!

~ ❄ Crystal ❄

@mominettemonth

Permanent Taglist:

@heinrode @astoriaandromeda

Taglist:

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#maribat #brucinette #mominette #mominette month #mominette august #mominette month 2021 #mominette-month-2021 #marinette dupain cheng #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #cassandra cain #tim drake #jason todd #stephanie brown #alfred pennyworth #fluff #i finally updated #miracles do happen

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catboys-need-milk · 2 years

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WAIT!! You have snakes?? Can we learn about them?? I love snakes so much <3

- 💫

Yes!! And sure I can tell you about them ♡

snakey descriptions below!! 🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

Jeremy—Red Tail Boa. My sweet boy, my prince. Has the GOOFIEST lil' face. Ive had him the longest so we've been through a lot together. He practically acts like a dog, like he'll chill on my lap for hours probably if I let him. There's been a couple times over the years where I accidentally fell asleep while I had him out (which was irresponsible, usually i dont handle any animals if i feel tired), and he was just right there coiled up against me when I woke up (probably just because I was warm, but still haha)

Nicholas—Goini Kingsnake. My crazy boy, mistakes my fingers for food a lot 😅 But funnily enough, he's the one snake I can let just out and explore my desk while I'm working on my paintings or sculptures. He always curious about what I'm doing, nosing through my materials and tools and seemingly coming over to inspect what im putting on the page. I call him my "biggest fan" of my work because even if I might not like how the piece is turning out, he always seems intrigued. Hehe, though every once in a while if i reach for something he'll strike at me from across the table because he thinks my hand is a rat 😅😅😅 its honestly quite charming

Ripley—Jungle Carpet Python. Alien spawn. Good boy, but very sQuiRmY! Carpet pythons are very strong arboreal snakes, and literally if he grabs ANYTHING with his tail its like an all-hands-on-deck situation to get him to let go of it. Its mainly because of him that I bought and modified a kitty tree/cat tower for the snakes so they have something to hangout and climb on

Phillip—Ball Python. My slug boy. Sketchy demeanor. I found him huddled in a sink when he was but a small boy! He had escaped from his tank at the place I used to work at, and when I found him my manager asked if I wanted to keep him. Literally like 12 hrs before I was talking about how I wasn't interested in getting a ball python, and here I was going "THIS MY NEW BABEY??!?!? 💕"

Pepper—Coastal Carpet Python. Another alien creature. She's not that big now but will grow up to be the largest at around 9-11 ft. Used to be very bitey when she was teeny and it was admittedly very cute, but she's mellowed out now and always seems inquisitive when we go open her doors

Jaeger— Northern Pine Snake. He's my biggest at 7 ft. Very grumpy looking face but its so cute. I call him "Mr. Jaeger", because he's kind of a decrepid old man. Or well, at least I think he's old. I bought him for extremely cheap from some evasive, dishonest guy 5,000 miles away. When he arrived he was in bad shape, but I got him cured of everything and built him a big nice enclosure, even hand sculpted a huge rock cave and painted a forest mural for him. His body shape is odd for a pine snake who's supposedly 8, which is why I think he may actually be old. He also has a messed up eye, but he was probably born with it.

AHHH SORRY WTF I RAMBLED FOR TOO LOOONNGG ^_^' I guess i just really love the critters, we have lizards and bugs too but these are the snakes haha

(=^･ｪ･^=))ﾉ彡☆

#ughhhhh i want some Reeses #they've got like the easter egg ones out rn too #those are the best they have so much peanut butter omg #i bought a couple earlier but maybe ill get more??? yeah probably #cuz i gotta go make a run to the old house anyway #snakes #reptiles #catboys-need-milk

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braceletofteeth · 2 years

Text

Ten characters I fell in love with in 2021

I really wanted to do this when I saw it for the first time, but told myself to wait at least a week. If no one tagged me, then I'd do it anyway. But a few days ago, an ANGEL, @adithemadfangirl, did it <3 I was SO happy, thank you so much, darling! <3

*This list is in no particular order. It'd be too cruel to ask me to rank them.

1. Yoon Jongwoo (Strangers From Hell)

He's so small, it's like having a cute little bunny in the palm of your hand. Except this one can, wants to, and will kill you.

He's confusing and deceitful, but I'd be lying if I said it doesn't make me love him even more.

2. Yook Dongsik (Psychopath Diary)

THE LEGEND. Makes you think he's an ordinary clown but then you find out he's actually the owner of the circus and all the clowns wanna BE him, BEFRIEND him, or KISS him on the mouth.

(A true inspiration. Has the most satisfying character development of all time).

3. Eve Polastri (Killing Eve)

Beautiful mess. I want to sit back and watch mesmerized while she does normal stuff, like chop some onions or smother someone to death.

4. Ryu Sooyeol (Bad And Crazy)

Facial expressions are A+. He's a good son and a good wife.

Also mentally ill (to add some spice!).

I've only had this wimpy detective for a month, but you can pry him from my cold, dead hands.

5. Shintarō Midorima (Kuroko no Basuke)

60-years-old-grandpa trapped in the body of a teenager. Nerdy and grumpy. Makes you covet his respect more than his affection.

Even his superstitions are endearing.

6. Lee Dongsik (Beyond Evil)

Has anyone that met him not been marked for life?

7. President Gu (Life)

The last decent bussinessman standing. Could make an empire out of nothing, out of absolute chaos. He commits fully. Wanna get on his way? Better have an alphabet worth of backup plans (because he sure does!).

... He's also thoughtful and kindhearted. Much more than you'd think :(

8. Oksana Astankova/Villanelle (Killing Eve)

I missed her voice every day for weeks after I finished Killing Eve. I could hear her accent all the time and never get tired of it. She's the one I have the most of a good time with, doesn't matter where she's at or what she's doing.

Everyone is underdressed in her presence.

She made some mistakes but memory is a funny thing haha, I don't remember any of it ?? :)

9. Seo Inwoo (Psychopath Diary)

Pathetic. Main cause of his own problems. Has Family Issues (as in his whole family is a fucking issue). Has the cutest crow laugh. Usually calm and collected but all his brain cells check out when his hand is held by another man.

Heinous, horrible individual, in serious need of jail time—but not for too long, because then I miss him :(

10. Seo Moonjo (Strangers From Hell)

Annoying. The reason why I know petnames in eleven different languages.

Made a home in my head, infests it with weird thoughts like a parasite. Never leaves; therefore, I'm never alone.

[Honorable mentions:

XI. Luke Brandon (Confessions of a Shopaholic)

I was on my extended Hugh Dancy Era when I came across this guy. I would say his name and no one would know who the fuck he was.

He tries to advise poor people that are being fooled by rich assholes. He's a lawful good that cares deeply about things like "honesty" and "credibility". How could I resist?

XII. Lee Yeon (Tale of the Nine-Tailed)

Gave my favorite fox (Tomoe) a run for his money.

I love how he keeps getting dangerously attached to a lot of people despite his 'I don't give a shit' personality.

Extra points for having a cool sword.]

I'm tagging @softneomirotic @somebodycallixii @mangodelorean @jentonic @smiley-wookie and @chhagiya if any of you guys haven't done it yet and would like too <3

#tag game #I really wanted to do this one aaaaaa #is it obvious that I love this kind of thing #please keep tagging me I really don't mind <3 #oh I need to give a little explanation here:#I watched SFH at the end of 2020 but only allowed myself to really dive in the story and the characters in 2021 #that's why Moonjo and Jongwoo are on this list #it's hard to imagine now #but I don't think they would have made the cut in 2020 lol #for 2022 I wish MORE WOMEN #and by god I will find them

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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Text

Keeping Up With A Himbo: Vergil (I)- Lost In The Sauce

Series Summary: A series of domestically fluffy snippets where the s/o of a Sparda learns just how much of a himbo their lover is.

Work Summary: Vergil tries to cook for you and loses a fight with a salt grinder.

Tags/Warnings: Gender-Neutral S/O, Domestic Fluff, SFW, Vergil Is A Disaster And We Love Him, Meme References in Title and Story, Implied Touch-Starved! Vergil,

Vergil always noticed that ever since he moved to your place, he had yet to move a finger when it came to making meals. Usually, it was you who chose to go to the grocery stores and come back home to cook.

It always brought him good feeling, to sit beside you and have a hot meal with you. However, he soon realized how the scale of responsibilities was becoming lopsided, tipping in his favor.

You would return exhausted from work, only to cook and clean once more. Vergil was also working at his brother’s shop, slaying demons and all sorts of nasty creatures.

But he was a subhuman of ungodly stamina, he rarely felt exhaustion as quickly as you did. You knew that. And yet, here you were, still insisting to do most of the cooking. Although it was nice to be pampered, reading a book near the counter as you chopped up ingredients for a hearty lunch or dinner, Vergil knew it was unreciprocated for some time now.

As of late, your work had become harder, with longer hours and lesser benefits. You found yourself pushing against the clock, having to prepare the evening meal despite the time crunch. You woke up earlier to sleep later. And yet, you staunchly refused to not provide for the two of you.

He grumbled a bit on the inside, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. His eyes glanced at the clock. You would be home in an hour, at around 9 pm. Much later than you had already been working.

Humans are easily tired, and it was a Friday. For you to come home and deal with such a chore would be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Vergil cursed himself. He was more than capable of doing some tasks around your shared home. After years of living alone, he was not used to all of this-this bliss. How could he be so foolish to not give back to his beloved?

With strife, he promptly rolled up his sleeves and grabbed your apron. A bit small around his chest, as he was much more muscular than you.

Thinking of the sight of your face brightening if you came home to a prepared meal, he set out to prove himself as more than capable in the kitchen.

And perhaps garner some praise from you. Not like he’d ever admit he wanted it.

He opened the cabinets and fridge. Careful hands took out pasta and tomato sauce, setting it on the counter. Vergil read the instructions for the spaghetti, doing exactly what the box told him.

It was already his job before to open the cans, and the glass jar popped freely of its lid within seconds.

He tasted the sauce with a spoon, observing that the sole acrid taste of tomatoes did not sit well with him.

What did you always add? Obviously salt and pepper.

He did as such, taking out the old salt grinder. He proceeded to grind the salt into the pan of simmering sauce, bubbling perhaps too rapidly and violently. Somehow, no salt seemed to come out. He tsked and incessantly continued his motions for what seemed like whole minutes.

When that didn’t work, he changed his clockwise motion to counter, and no avail. It must have been jammed in the inside, he deducted.

He shook the grinder.

The lid of the grinder fell into the saucepan, a cup’s worth of salt tumbling in also.

Vergil cursed, trying to take out as much salt as he could before it dissolved in the sauce.

The hands of the clock comforted him, you were yet to be home for some time.

The sauce was ruined and it was salty like the sea, ten-folded.

“What can counteract salt?” Vergil thought to himself.

A dusty lightbulb flickered in his mind, and he reached for the little canister of sugar.

He poured some sugar into the sauce, hoping to revert it back to normal. Years of consuming demonic flesh would do this to a man’s sense of culinary logic.

The pasta, which he forgot to strain out earlier, flopped miserably into the pan. Vergil gave his attempt a try.

As if salt wasn’t bad enough, the sugar combined in it made Vergil actually recoil. How on earth did you cook everyday?!

More over, how on earth did he derail a simple recipe to this?

Sauce, burnt, salted, sweetened, and pasta forsaken and soggy, Vergil had officially lost his mind.

He went to take off your apron in shame, and all the hairs on his body stood up when the door opened, earlier than he presumed.

You came home to a strange smell, kicking off your shoes and leaving your coat on the rack.

“I’m home!” You called out wearily, ready to make some dinner.

You expected to see Vergil sitting in his loveseat. What you got was Vergil standing awkwardly in the kitchen, as if he did something wrong and didn’t want to tell you.

“He looks like that Robert Pattinson meme?” You half-smiled at your internal monologue.

“Ah! You’re cooking.” You say, making your way over to the stove.

He murmured grumpily. It appeared he tried to make some noodles in tomato sauce. You went to take a forkful of it, when a strong hand caught your wrist.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“Why not? You made it!”

“I don’t want to poison you.” His grip was strong, refusing to let you move your hand to your mouth.

Instead of putting the pasta to your face, you put your face to the pasta, tricking the devil with your conniving reflexes. He released you with a sigh, his lover Loki-incarnate.

Vergil expected a look of disgust akin to his own, yet you didn’t allow that reaction to appear on your features.

“Not bad.” You say with endearment, looking up at him. He scoffs when your eye twitched at the soured taste.

“You would be a fool to lie to me.”

“I mean, it’s-it’s something.” You laugh, stirring the very-past-al-dente noodles.

The fork clinks against something solid in the pot. You fish out the lid of the salt grinder.

“Oh, oh you really got lost in the sauce.” You deadpan. He stiffens in embarrassment.

“This was a waste of resources and time. I should’ve been better.”

“Not to me it’s not. You did do your best. Were you trying to cook for me?” He nodded, refusing to look at you.

You take another mouthful, noting sweetness.

“Did you add sugar-” Your answer lies in the half-empty container of sugar. You cover your mouth to laugh. Vergil grumbles again.

“It’s okay, Vergil!” He still won’t look at you. No matter how much you chant his name, he refuses to turn his head.

“Hey. Hey.” You try to move his face to look at you. His jaw clenches and he relents his gaze at the wall, opting to be eye-to-eye with his beaming lover.

“You tried. And that’s all that matters.”

“And I have failed to make something edible. It’s not fair for me to serve you this after such a toiling week of work-” He glances at the pan with this scorn.

“But you made something for me. And that’s very thoughtful of you.” You cup his cheek, your boyfriend subtlety leaning to your palm.

“I’m still not letting you eat the rest-”

“Oh trust me, I don’t want to.” You butt in, taking out your phone.

Takeout?” You offer, pointing to the GrubHub delivery app.

He agrees, letting you pick out what you think he would like.

Your grumpy devil sits on his dark blue loveseat, forgoing to untie the apron. You wait for your delivery, sitting in his lap. Your exhaustion from work and the emotional sauce rollercoaster is seeping away from you-

-and into the plush pectorals against your cheek, framed nicely by your usual cooking smock.

“This man could burn down the kitchen with that apron on and I’d just let him.” You think to yourself.

He’s lucky he’s cute.

#rodeo is not sponsored by grubhub...although that would be very yeehaw of them to do that #keeping up with a himbo #kuwah #vergil x reader #vergil sparda #vergil imagines #dmc vergil #devil may cry #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry imagine

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captainsimagines · 3 years

Text

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Two

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 2 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this chapter: brief reference/hint to past sexual assault.

Word Count: 7,500+

A/N: Thank you so much for your excitement about this series! I always smile when I read your comments. Sorry for such a long chapter, but it’s only ten parts and I gotta fit all somewhere lol

Unknown Location, 2015, 10:46pm

The tightness of the rope wrapped around your wrists was excruciating, each movement causing it to rub against the already damaged skin, leaving more angry, red marks. You whipped your head back and forth, anger and fear coursing through your veins as you stared your father down. You watched as he carefully maneuvered his way around the room, every back straightening as he walked past them, every gun cocked and pointed right at you. Your nose twitched up as he walked closer, inspecting the ropes tying your feet to the chair and so on. You accumulated all the spit you could and aimed it for his face, pride washing over you as it hit him perfectly. But as quickly as that pride built, it shattered, a stinging sensation on your cheek now overpowering any other sense.

“You cost me ten million.”

You bit back a laugh, careful not to let it slip as you did not want another beating. “I did what I had to do. You would have done the same!”

“Don’t tell me what I would have done!”

You flinched inwardly, your face still blushing with growing madness. If only you could loosen these bonds…

“You will know to not mess up again.”

And as your father left the room, the men lined up against the wall finally let their shoulders fall forward, their once blank faces now donning sadistic smiles.

The Compound, 2018, 2:07am

You sat up from your mound of pillows, kicking them to the side as well as the heavy blanket. Your ears rang impossibly loud, and it wasn’t until your feet touched your bedroom floor that you could hear yourself screaming. Your body was drenched in sweat, sliding easily on your wood floor as you kicked to escape the blanket.

Sharp knocks against your door startled you, sudden ‘please, don’t!��’s escaping your mouth. Hyperventilating was always tiring, you thought, and the air was now super cold as you sucked it into your lungs.

“Doll, please? I’m coming in.”

The light from the hallway blinded you so you lifted your arm up as a temporary shield.

“No, no! I’m good… I didn’t lose it. Please, trust me!”

“Y/N…”

You lowered your arm and stared at your nighttime intruder, instincts kicking in upon settling your teary eyes on him and causing you to groan in displeasure.

“Don’t look at me.”

“Y/N.”

“I said don’t look at me.”

Steve sighed in defeat and walked back to your door. You thought he was going to simply leave you be, letting you ride out this panic attack alone like all the others. But he shut the door and made his way over to your couch on the other side of the room, plopping himself down and leaning his sleepy head in his right hand. It had been six months since the world literally fell apart, an unknown feeling of terror that simply sat at the pit of stomachs eating away at whatever sanity its host still had, plaguing the world. Tiredness was second nature, never actually reducing its power no matter how much sleep one got. But leaving you here to suffer each individual thread being pulled from your remaining sanity, alone, wasn’t an option.

“Why are you staying?”

“I have nightmares, too. You aren’t that special.”

You rolled your eyes, hands now massaging your aching chest. “It wasn’t anything.”

“Y/N, you were screaming for help.”

“I scream for a lot of things.”

You figured Steve would succumb to his growing annoyance, but he stayed patient.

“Was it about…?”

You sighed and pulled yourself up to your feet, knees wobbly and thighs alerting you of the droplets of sweat that beaded down your legs. “No. I don’t dream about the snap.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You let out a rather angry sigh. You were now rubbing your eyes, cleaning them of the accumulation of hard mucus. “I seriously don’t want to talk about this particular incident.”

Steve huffed through his nose and you were ready to pounce on him to tear that beard from his face, but stopped when you saw his small smile and genuine empathy in his eyes. “Okay, I won’t push you.”

You just stared at him, eyes wide and confused. But you nodded slowly, eyes now diverting to the blanket below you.

“I’m just so fucking happy the snap took my father.”

Steve’s lifted his head quickly by your abrupt confession, eyebrows furrowed and lips frozen, as if wrapped around a lost word he couldn’t verbally address. He understood, but it shocked him nonetheless.

He ignored it, or at least chose to avoid an immediate discussion about it, and stood from your couch.

“Are you going to be okay?”

You wanted to throw him out. Him being across the room and near the wall was starting to trigger more flashbacks.

It’s Steve. It’s just Steve.

“Can you stay?”

Steve stumbled slightly in his step, clearly uncomfortable with your request. But he was a good man and when one of his teammates needed help, he would do whatever he could. And you were one of the only teammates he had left.

“Okay,” he said. But as he made his way back to the couch and away from you, sudden racks of itchiness stretched from your wrists to the middle of your chest. You stumbled from the bed, arms extended outward as if you were still shielding yourself from some incoming attack.

“No, no! Just…”

Steve watched your movements carefully, trying to discern between fear or awkwardness. He sighed and let you see his hands, turning them over in the air.

“It’s me. Tell me where you want me.”

You were in control. Just tell him where you want him.

“I’ll lay here,” you started, getting back into the right side of the bed and pulling the covers up to your hips. “You there, but upside down.”

Steve chuckled and followed your commands. You watched him walk, feeling the dip of your mattress as his heavy body lay down. You were grateful when his sock-covered feet touched your left side pillow, his chuckles gaining volume as he tried to get comfortable.

“Do I at least get a blanket?”

“Oh!” you leapt from the bed and to the closet. He listened to your soft pitter-patter as you shuffled across the cold floor, shutting his eyes to relish in the childish melody. You passed Steve two heavy blankets, mindful of the cold weather outside. Then you climbed back into bed, passing Steve a few pillows, and snuggling back into your own.

A few shifts of the blankets made you open your eyes again. Steve was not as stiff as you expected him to be - almost like he wanted to help you - and you mentally slapped yourself remembering that he would do this for Bucky.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

You took solace in the fact that he couldn’t see the tiny grin on your face. “Thank you.”

Steve smiled up at the ceiling, thankful that he could still help others even when he himself was falling apart. “You’re welcome.”

Present Day, 2025, 9:45am

If anyone were to truly study Steve, they would see he was starting to act his age. He enjoyed fluffy socks, tea instead of coffee, sketching in the secluded garden of the new compound - anything a man pushing a hundred would truly enjoy. And he found himself shaving less, watching every new movie released regardless of genre, and eating much more oatmeal than usual. He remembers how whenever Bucky had saved up just enough for them to splurge on items they never usually indulged in, oatmeal would always be his go to. It was still a common ‘peasant’ meal for the two young bachelors, but Bucky would heat it up with fresh milk he had bought that morning, added the fresh strawberries and dates that were in season, and sprinkled brown sugar - damn, Steve loved brown sugar - on top. Bucky would place the bowl in front of Steve, ignoring Steve’s constant blabbering about ‘Buck, we can’t afford this’, or ‘you don’t need to spend your hard-earned money on me, you jerk’. But he would quickly shut up once Bucky’s perfected oatmeal recipe landed on his eager tongue and filled his happy stomach. Regardless of those past memories of young roommates searching for loose change in their couch and more recent ones of two reunited best friends sharing looks of awe whenever they saw how much milk and brown sugar now costs, Steve was certain the old man in him was just barely emerging.

He definitely didn’t skip the irritated attitude phase every old man seemed to develop as the years passed, his resting facial expressions and movements starting to match those of his best friend. Grumpy, tired all the time regardless of the serum, and asking each other instead of the modern people around them how to work their phones. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed, or go on a jog, or watch a movie - anything - rather than having to give a briefing about something he hadn’t had to think about for seven years. And although he had the chance to use the stones before and didn’t, Steve couldn’t quite help wishing that he was transported back to his and Bucky’s old and crumbling apartment, fighting over that one knitted blanket Bucky had bought for the both of them with his last dime.

You seemed happier with your whole family situation after the snap, but he never wanted to ask. Whether you were putting on a brave face for him, he was rid of it momentarily only to be pushed into the chaos all over again. But this time was different because you were finally going to end it all. Finish what you had started all those years ago - then maybe Steve could take that afternoon nap he wanted.

“Talk to me. How are we doing this?”

Fury pulled up a screen with all the photos and biographies, essentially a powerpoint prepared by both you and Steve.

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me, sir. But I know my family and their schemes better than anyone,” you said. Fury knew this was true and the plan would ultimately be mapped out by you. His input was always welcome, but you knew the small details - their personalities, their weaknesses, their strengths, even the way they took their coffee. You even knew which of them sampled their product before sending it off on a cross-country road trip.

Steve stood beside the monitor, using this finger to change the screen. “So, we’re looking for our physical proof. A paper trail detailing land and their product, contacts, storage units, aliases - the works.”

You nodded at Fury and your teammates. “Exactly. The hardest things to obtain will most definitely be evidence about my father’s involvement. Proof he gave the orders and profited from them.”

“Your word isn’t enough?” Sam asked.

“No, not unless I throw myself under the bus as well. It’s his word against mine unless I can prove these things were all his doing,” you responded, taking a sip from your water.

The only other people in the briefing room besides Steve and Fury were Sam, Bucky and Scott. Everyone else would get a brief overview later on this week, but these three were specifically chosen by Fury to help aid you in the actual physical fight.

“The wedding is the perfect distraction,” Scott spoke. “Almost like this was made for a heist.”

Steve released a heavy sigh, his patience already wearing thin. “Not a heist.”

“Close enough,” Scott shrugged, gaining a grin from you across the table. He smiled at your reaction and sent you a wink.

“Agent, we have to go over the basics and any new information you can provide,” Fury encouraged.

You motioned toward Steve to bring up the photos on the monitor, “Let’s start with the basics.”

Steve took over for the first portion of your presentation. You didn’t mind - in fact, the more control he had in this would certainly help ease his mind and you definitely did not want a stressed out Steve Rogers accompanying you on a twelve hour road trip.

“Ernesto Vega, father of Y/N Y/L/N, born 1950 in Guadalajara, Mexico, but because of the snap, the 80 year old is still only 75.”

“Damn, your father is old!”

You laughed at Sam’s outburst, “Yup, and I got like ten half-siblings.”

Sam sat up straighter, “No way?”

“Way.”

“Daniel Seda,” Steve continued, his voice louder. “Vega’s second in command, born 1970, currently 55 years old. Took over as top commander after the snap, and according to Y/N he didn’t take it well when everyone was brought back.”

“Hmm, threatened to put another bullet in me,” you teased, pointing at your stomach where the scar underneath your shirt had already long healed. You could have sworn you heard Steve’s breath hitch, but even if it did, he had quickly covered it by swiping the monitor.

“But her father saw this as proof of loyalty. Because no matter how much he knows Y/N hates him, she still brought him back.”

You lifted your shoulders, arms in the air as if imitating the nonverbal form of ‘oh, well!’, and your thin smile caused your cheeks to pop out comically.

“So, Seda hates you?” Bucky asked, chuckles still vibrating in his chest from your previous childish movements.

You brushed your hand through the air, “Not the first man to hate me and not the last.”

Steve snickered. You could say that again.

“The wedding will be held at Vega’s personal and private ten-acre ranch in Northern California-”

“A lovely fall wedding!”

Steve bit his tongue, eyes never leaving the monitor. “Sure… and it’s perfect. He’s wanted and he’s going to be on U.S soil.”

You stood from your chair and grabbed the electronic marker from the desk. You circled the main points of entry plus the directions of secret exits hoping to emphasize the ‘private’ part of Steve’s statement. “And since it’s his most private getaway and no one would suspect he would hide important shit on said U.S soil, I’m about ninety-eight percent sure our proof is there.”

You pulled up the blueprints and marked a giant ‘X’ on the farthest corner room in the west end. It was your father’s office.

“Ninety-eight?” Sam asked, reviewing the printed blueprints himself.

You twirled the marker between your fingers, “My dad is clever. My other two percent is telling me there’s no evidence at all.”

Scott clutched his chest in relief, “Okay, at least one outweighs the other.”

You shared another laugh with the ‘regular-sized man’.

Steve continued listing the basics, all while Fury sat toward the edge of the long table reviewing the screen. “The other two big names in the drug game are Omar Ramirez and Marcus White. Ramirez runs most things from Mexico City to San Antonio, Texas and he’s probably the least evil of them all. White runs Europe, specifically Germany and England.”

You interjected, “Ramirez focuses on the product. He orders his men to focus on the business instead of the outside world - meaning, no unnecessary kills, no violence toward women and children, no killing cops or citizens. Just producing and transporting.”

Almost forgetting he was there, Fury’s voice somewhat startled you. “Vega has lost men to Ramirez, men who wanted a change in scenery.”

You nodded in confirmation, “They aren’t necessarily enemies but they’re no besties either.”

Sam rolled the blueprints back up and handed them to Bucky. “So, we’re taking them all down?”

“The big three. Plus Seda,” Steve declared, finally taking his first sip of water in what felt like forever. If he didn’t want anyone to know he was nervous about this mission, he was for sure failing.

You hummed, “Vega and Seda are also the only ones who know of Steve’s involvement.”

“How’d that happen?” Bucky asked.

“Because Steve only ‘transports’ my father’s product. Not the others. Steve’s role is essentially to green light the passages and is my main pull,” you clarified.

It was true - Steve didn’t do or touch anything. And you thought this best considering he was America’s golden boy - you couldn’t possibly bear real involvement from him. This wasn’t his world and never should have been but it was yours.

You dealt with people directly. You took out the snitches. You handled the product during inspections. You did it all - and not because you thought Steve was some fragile soul who couldn’t achieve the same results - but because you brought him into that mess during a time in his life when he definitely didn’t need it.

“But how did it happen?”

You shrugged, hoping your answer would suffice for the rest of the group as it never does for Steve. “When I first started out as a field agent, my father didn’t trust I was doing it for him. The more I promoted, the more suspicious he got. It wasn’t until we exposed SHIELD as half-HYDRA that he was done with me.”

Fury interjected once again, “So, Y/L/N here had to pull rank out of her ass.”

You snorted, “Thanks, Fury. That sounded nice.”

“I told them that I had the literal symbol of America by my side. That defeating HYDRA was only to get his friend back, not to save the world. Plus, I told them that HYDRA was targeting all of them. And once I could get proof - a forged recording made by Fury before he went into hiding - well, it was like the greatest example of submission.”

“Why didn’t you say Tony?”

That certainly was a question Steve always had and wanted answered. God, he really hoped you had said Tony.

“Because I got the literal symbol of America as a partner-in-crime. My father almost told me he loved me... almost.”

You sat back down in your chair, a tiny puff of air escaping your lips. “And that made Seda furious. I may hate my father, but Seda is the main threat to blowing this whole operation.”

If anything, you wanted your father deader than dirt, silenced by the one child he always regretted bringing into the world. He had tortured you in more ways than you thought possible.

“Now, I thought my dad was bad.”

You fell back onto the couch before retrieving your cup of coffee you had placed on the table. Nebula gave you a tiny chuckle in return.

“Yes, mine has eradicated half the universe. I win ‘worst father’.”

You sipped your coffee, trying and failing to block out the banter between Rocket and Tony as they discussed the location of the space stone. “You know, I wouldn’t have put it past him.”

Nebula chewed her dinner slowly, listening to you ramble on about anything that popped into your mind. She knew this was your coping mechanism - to just keep talking until someone shut you up. But she enjoyed it, really, because you spoke of topics that she didn’t quite understand or know about. She learned something new everyday simply by listening to you.

“I should have thanked Thanos for dusting his ass, though.”

Nebula stopped mid-chew, blank expression but the hint of a twitch in her lip visible.

“I’m joking.”

You had asked her once why Thanos had spared her and Tony when he snapped his fingers. But Nebula had no rational answer, only responding that he must have spared her out of last minute pity and Tony to live through the consequences. And the tiny voice inside your head knocked again, reminding you that ‘maybe this snap was overall a good thing - your father can’t hurt you anymore!’, but you shut it up as quickly as it came.

“So, how many planets are there in the universe, really?”

Fury began piling files in one folder, making sure to hand out the sheet with names and contact numbers of agents stationed close to the venue and your chosen hotel.

“We’ll get into mission specifics at a later date once Rogers and Y/L/N are settled and scope out the place. For now, study up on your targets and perfect your acting skills.”

You assumed you would only need one big suitcase for the trip, only packing essentials and extra shirts just in case. You rolled your clothes tightly, securing your signature perfume and some jewelry inside some sweaters. You hid identifiable items in the small compartments - your passport, journal, old SHIELD tag, driver’s license, etc. It was the paranoid side of you taking over, the possibility of having your cover blown likely and frightening. The amount of times you had ventured into the general vicinity of your father and his crew always proved safer than you expected. But there could always be that day he simply didn’t want you around anymore.

So, you prepared in the smallest and even cringiest ways possible - resorting to drafting letters for those you wanted to remember you after you had been taken out. You paused your packing to grab your spare journal. You spent a good hour writing. A letter to Wanda, to Bucky, to Peter, to Rhodey, to Sam. Some were shorter than others - others extending to over two pages. But your mind was racing with things you hoped they would never have to read, scattered thoughts and only hints of identifiable wit penned on paper.

You tucked the letters behind the fabric you had recently ripped open. You planned on duct-taping the rip, your eyes drifting back over to your journal. You tapped your foot rapidly for a few seconds, fingers twisting in anticipation, mind still clear enough to draft one more. You quickly picked the pen right back up, sitting on the edge of your bed and starting the letter you might regret later. But at that moment, with the horrible prospect of dying on this mission, you wrote.

‘Steve,

Believe when I say that I was so sure I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…’

You wrote and wrote until your handwriting grew sloppy at the edge of the paper, and signed it. You tucked the final letter into the hole and taped it shut. You really hoped you would be able to survive and burn those written words later.

A soft knock sounded from across the room and your bedroom door opened to reveal Steve, light blue dress shirt tucked into his jeans like the old man he truly was. You couldn’t help but grin at that, cursing your involuntary actions for this man.

“Hey.”

“You doing okay?” you asked, continuing to fold clothing into your suitcase. He leaned against your door, hesitant. Steve often wondered why and how he could go days, weeks - one time even a whole month - without speaking to or seeing you. He was an expert at one word answers by now, opting to always have someone else around whenever he seriously had to carry a conversation with you. But what struck him the most was that you didn’t seem to care anymore. He witnessed the change - hell, he was the one that caused it - but it was a change that he both wanted and didn’t. How was it so easy for you?

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” he responded and walked over to your couch to sit.

You cleared your throat, hoping to make this conversation the least awkward you could. “Because this was literally sprung on both of us after almost ten years of waiting.”

“I’m okay.”

You accepted his answer. He looked comfortable enough, shoulders relaxed and genuinely interested. There was a part of you that wanted to rush over and shake him, yell at him for being so clueless and fake at the same time. There was no possible way he was fully okay with everything - he hadn’t been himself since the snap, and when Natasha and Tony died, he was someone else entirely. You had brought it up with Bucky several times, but he assured you that Steve was just dealing with things his own way. That he was still a man out of time, they both were, and battle after battle could take its toll. And Bucky would hype their therapist up, that they were the reason he and Steve are able to walk in public without that constant voice warning of danger in the back of their heads, and that you should schedule a visit sometime. You always declined, asking him to call you if he truly needed another person to talk to. He would smile, taking you up on your offer whenever a day was particularly triggering.

“I’ve been waiting for this day since I was sixteen. Ten years really just flew by… considering.”

Steve nodded, “Is there anything I should know?”

You hummed, “If you mean things about my family, then I’ll just tell you on the way there or at the hotel.”

He chuckled and stood to lean against your bedpost. “No, I mean like, what should I pack just in case?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed at such an innocent question, “Um, comfy socks. It’s pretty cold in California in the winter. Gas money, it’s pretty fucking expensive, too.”

He smiled, “Good to know.”

The two of you packed in silence for several minutes. Steve helped you roll your clothes and gather your toiletries, even asking you if you wanted to bring your current toothbrush or the new one in your bottom drawer.

You knew you shouldn’t have spoken about the topic burning in your throat, but you felt like you had to say something. If you mentioned it during the mission, you risked a larger argument than the one you would get now. So you formulated your next sentence carefully, already bracing for impact as it slipped.

“Look, the elephant in the room should be addressed. Once my father’s dealt with, I have no reason to stay here.”

Steve clipped the belt over the top of your clothes, securing the items tightly. He seemed disoriented, your sudden proclamation startling him. “What do you mean? You did the work, you trained, you helped us literally save the world.”

You shrugged and kept your voice light, “Yeah, but I started this gig when I was sixteen. I didn’t join the Avengers until I was freshly in my twenties. I’ve literally known nothing else but fighting.”

Steve sat at the edge of your bed, furrowed eyebrows and all as he chose his next words. He felt both angry and sad, a mixture of feelings that he never quite grew accustomed to whenever he was around you. They ate away at him slowly, creeping into his brain to wrap around his common sense, his sense of self, the man he was before the snap.

“Are you saying you just need a break?”

“I think,” you shrugged, zipping the suitcase and tugging its weight off your bed and onto the floor.

“What about Wanda and Bucky?”

You scrunched your face in amused confusion, a playful smile resting on your lips, “I’m not falling off the face of the Earth, Steve. I’ll visit or something.”

“Or something.”

He stood and walked back to your couch, restless and even more stressed than he was before he entered your room.

“Steve, we lost so much. It’s been two years since we brought everyone back, but… it took its toll.”

He snapped his head up, “You don’t need to tell me about shit taking its toll.”

You felt like you stared at him for several minutes, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach and traveling up your throat. That familiar lump constricting your airway as you forced yourself to swallow it and the forming tears. And once again, your mouth spoke before your mind could approve.

“Why didn’t you use the stones for yourself?”

Steve sat, shocked into silence temporarily. “What?”

“When you and Carol put the stones back - why didn’t you stay somewhere you really wanted to be?”

You remember watching him step onto the platform holding the briefcase of infinity stones and holding Mjollnir, - because of fucking course he could wield Mjollnir, he was a good man even if you were on his bad side - simply minding his own business and waiting for Carol to join him. You remember thinking he would return with a different story, only after he got some of that life Tony had always encouraged him to find, that he would go back to Peggy and live the life he always wanted. But as quickly as they disappeared into thousands of timelines did they reappear, Carol joyful and content while Steve trailed behind her. Your heart had pounded erratically, Bucky looking at you with wide eyes because yes, I thought he would do exactly what you were thinking, too.

“None of your business.”

“I’m not trying to pry-” you reasoned, but Steve stepped toward you with flushed cheeks and a cracked voice.

“But all you do is pry, pry, pry. God, do you ever just shut up?”

All you could hear behind the ringing of your ears were Steve’s quick breaths, slowing as each second passed and he realized what he had said. A moment of weakness, in his opinion, but still uncalled for.

“Pack some snacks for the road and get out of my room.”

Steve straightened his back, eyes practically yelling for you to look at him again, pleading for you to see the remorse swimming in them. But you just tugged your suitcase to the corner of your room, ignoring him completely. “Gladly.”

You and Steve were mature enough to keep your arguments at least a hundred miles away from any mission you were conducting or when around your friends. A quick quarrel in the morning was basically nonexistent a few hours later when the whole group suggested a board game or movie night. Although this impromptu road trip would be the slightest bit awkward, you two were smart enough to not compromise the mission.

And you had to drive as flying and airport security was too risky, especially with the amount of weapons attached to your body and in the trunk of that rented car.

“Call us when you hit the first checkpoint. After that, we’ll be monitoring your hotel check-in and any new ones, police reports filed throughout that week, anything that directly involves your stay,” Bucky said, handing you a burner phone.

You stepped forward to hug him. “Thank you, Bucky.”

He gave you a tight squeeze, releasing you slightly to whisper in your ear. “Try not to kill him for the next twelve hours, will ya?”

You pulled away and gave him your best grin, bumping your bracelet with his. “You know I can’t promise that, Bucky.”

He rolled his eyes, “You kill him, I kill you.”

“Ugh, don’t tease me.” Bucky almost burst out laughing from the fake, pornographic moan you let out because of his threat.

“No, but seriously - just… lay low, trust each other, and we’ll be there in the next few days.”

You slid the burner into your sweater pocket and patted it, checking if it was secure. You waved goodbye to Bucky and pulled the passenger door open. You blew him a kiss, red lipstick now on your fingers. “Can’t wait to see you!”

Bucky stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, an embarrassed but happy smile on his face. He caught the floating kiss mid-air. “Already miss you!”

“Stop, I’m blushing!” you teased, your left hand resting palm up on your forehead in an exaggerated manner.

“Go!”

You obliged, falling into the passenger seat and clicking your seatbelt.

Twenty minutes into the drive and Steve finally decided to speak.

“So, you and Bucky?”

You giggled, thumbs currently flying over your phone screen as you tried to beat your high score in some awful video game you discovered last week. “Yup, I got him wrapped around my finger.”

Steve’s hand fidgeted on the steering wheel, “Seriously?”

You closed out your video game, “No, Steve. It’s mindless flirting. He’s one of my best friends.”

“Ahh…” he nodded in understanding, a lazy smile resting on his face. He focused on both the road and you, your head leaning against the foggy window. “About earlier-”

“Don’t mention it,” you interrupted. The second you peaked through your heavy eyelids did you lock eyes with Steve, regret visible in them.

He continued, “I blew up at you and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Cool, you’re forgiven.”

“Y/N-”

You groaned quietly, but you weren’t getting angry. You were just tired from the day already and having to sit for twelve hours straight wasn’t going to help. So, you took the high road. “Look, it’s a twelve hour drive until our first stop. Let’s forget about it or else I promise you, I will jump out of this car when you push eighty.”

Steve couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled in his chest due to your absurd promise, but he accepted your answer.

“...Okay.”

By hour two, there was a restlessness between the both of you. No matter how much you extended your leg, the cramping wouldn’t go away. No matter how many times Steve would twist his neck to the side to get it to crack, it would just tighten again. So, against protocol but still on your best behavior, you and Steve made a couple stops along the way.

The first was a burger joint in the middle of buttfuck Ohio, you had commented, earning a choking sound from Steve as he tried to contain his laughter. It was a hole in the wall type of place, perfect for lying low and out of sight, and you had enjoyed your meal in the car. You listened to Steve’s playlist on low volume, stealing each other’s fries to simply piss the other off, and hit the road after your meal.

The second stop was around hour eight, and the sun was already starting to set. You desperately needed to use the bathroom and once you saw a tiny town that ‘looks so much like the town in Gilmore Girls!’, Steve pulled over and parked in a diner parking lot. Donning caps and ordering a coffee and a tea to go to seem less suspicious, you hurried from the diner and back to your car. You stopped dead in your tracks, eyeing a gazebo with a black miniature fence around it. You begged Steve to snap a photo, promising that this would be the only favor you ask of him for the next few hours, and went to hitch one leg over the metal fence. You settled yourself on top, hands gripping the railing and trying not to fall. You started to laugh uncontrollably as the fence started hurting your bottom, begging Steve to snap the photo quicker.

‘Take the damn picture, you big oaf!’

‘Well, then hold still!’

‘It’s hurting my ass!’

‘Smile!’

The third stop was the final one, somewhere in Iowa and deep in the forest. You complained about how Fury warned you of motels, that you would have to seek shelter elsewhere to avoid being recognized. You could easily blend in, but the mountain of muscle beside you would blow your cover. And you wanted to arrive in California undetected by the media.

Steve drove the car into a dark and secluded part of the forest, ground that seemed used by campers often and had an emergency phone and landline nearby. It was secret enough, so you parked the car and retrieved the blankets from the trunk.

“You taking the back?” Steve asked, jumping back into the car and rubbing his hands together because of the chilly weather. His face was flushed from just a few seconds out in the cool breeze, nose frozen and the tip red. He looked younger, you thought, somewhat resembling those renditions of Greeks in renaissance art.

“You’ve been driving all day. You should stretch your legs,” you answered, already wrapping the blanket up to your shoulders and securing it around your neck.

“You sure? We can alternate.”

You smiled, already feeling the effects of the warmth on your tired body, “I’m sure, Steve. Get some rest and I’ll drive in the morning.”

Steve exited the car after turning it off - sucks that you had to save the gas - and hopped into the backseat. He kicked off his shoes and lay across the connected seat, facing you. He could see the outline of your nose as you tilted your head slightly to the side, the blanket wrapped around your neck and hiding the real length of your hair. It resembled a bob cut by how half of it was hidden, and Steve thought that hairstyle would suit you.

Your personal phone rang, cutting through the comfortable silence and startling the both of you. You fumbled it in your hand and looked back at Steve, face falling as you showed him the name.

Seda.

“Answer it on the third ring.”

You did as Steve told you, answering the phone on the third ring and preparing your voice. He scrambled for the tape recorder, pressing ‘play’ as soon as he could.

“You rarely call me. To what do I owe the pleasure?” you answered.

His voice sounded hoarse over the phone, almost like he had just finished smoking a pack of cigarettes. “Are you attending?”

“My dear sister is getting married, Seda. Of course I’m going to embarrass her.”

He paused for a few moments, sounding like he was directing the people around him to finish something. But he responded to your answer in a serious tone. “I hope you’re being your usual sarcastic self and aren’t serious.”

You rolled your eyes and pointed at the phone, and Steve’s lips spread into a smile. “You’ve known me long enough to know, I hope.”

“Sadly.”

“I’m hurt,” you joked, voice still light and cheerful. Seda paused on the line again, the sound of papers rustling letting you know the line was still active.

“I need to know if the Captain is attending too.”

“He was invited,” you responded, laughing a little at the fact that Seda hadn’t known this information you were sure the rest of your family knew.

He chuckled, a slight whistle sound letting you know he was smoking another cigarette. “Mm, guess your family is finally meeting your lover, huh?”

The air in your mouth didn’t make it down to your lungs and you looked at Steve with equally wide eyes. But you didn’t stay fazed for long, responding to such an accusation with ease. “My lover, yes. I’m so damn giddy about that.”

Seda hummed in satisfaction, “Your father always told you to not get involved with the product. Scrambles your brains from thinking straight. But he applauds you on this one.”

You put a finger in your mouth and mimicked gagging, causing Steve to cover his mouth to muffle his laugh. “I’ve never mentioned the Captain as my lover before. Why is my father always right?”

You knew exactly what to say. The more backhanded praise you gave your father only fed into the truth and lies everyone knew - truth being you hated your father because of his power and the lie being that you were just as power hungry as him. As long everyone assumed you wanted this power, the more you had to act like you hated your father’s.

“He knows more than he lets on. You know that.”

“I know a lot of things.”

Seda continued, “No friends allowed, anyway. So, if the Captain isn’t your lover then… we may have problems. Is there a problem?”

You kept your voice at a steady volume, “I said I was with him, didn’t I? Have you seen the man?”

“Seen him, heard him speak. So righteous and dull. Not really your type.” Seda was growing impatient with the conversation, clearly angry that he hadn’t caught a slip or lie from you.

You scrunched your face in disgust, “Ew, don’t think you know my type.”

“Buck, ‘my type’ is back home with a warm chicken noodle soup in my lap and a couple of loose papers at my disposal,” Steve whined, trying to keep the same pace as his overly enthusiastic friend as he hurried down the sidewalk.

“She’s such a knockout, Steve! I’m sure she’ll love you.”

Steve couldn’t help but blush at Bucky’s kind words, the hype always repairing some parts of Steve’s broken self-esteem and reminding him of his worth. But it was his third date this month and rejection was starting to seem like his favorite sport. No matter what he did - offering a girl some peanuts, accidentally stepping on her (once!) feet while dancing, or simply not living up to Bucky’s gracious advertising - women just weren’t interested.

“You know that’s not true, Buck. Can’t we just have a quiet night in?”

Bucky stopped and guided them into the nearby alley, both to knock some sense into his friend and to give Steve a break from the tiny jog.

“Listen here, Steve. Any girl would be lucky to be with you-”

“Buck, we’ve been through this-”

“Let me finish,” Bucky shushed him, hands on Steve’s shoulders to steady both him and himself. “Any girl would be lucky to be with you. If this one doesn’t see you how I see you, then she’s just insane.”

Steve smirked, “Don’t insult the girl before I’ve even met her, jerk.”

Bucky smiled, his high cheeks pushing up to create crinkles by his eyes. “Trust me, pal. You just need to find a woman with as big of a mouth as you.”

Steve swatted his friend across his chest, laughs rumbling in both their chests and down the once quiet alleyway.

“What hotel are you staying at?” Seda quickly asked, ignoring your quip. You were done with this conversation as it was leading nowhere.

“Staying at one where no one can hear the Captain scramble my brains. Goodbye,” you replied, an annoyance in your tone that even Seda would believe as natural.

“See you soon.”

You let Seda end the call, a little power play you allowed him to have. God, it was gonna feel good to take him down.

Steve shifted in his seat, stopping the recorder in time for his question. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Why did your dad assume we were a couple?”

You gave him a tiny chuckle, pulling the blanket back over your shoulders and settling back into your seat. “I don’t know why that man says anything anymore. I guess they just expected it.”

“Why?”

No matter how many years passed, both awake or frozen, Steve never did quite understand the sexual appeal that lingered around his name. No matter how many times Bucky joked about it, no matter the amount of social media posts, no matter anything - he just didn’t seem to understand why people thought he was a ladies man.

You snuggled deeper into your blanket, scanning the outside woods one last time just in case. “You wouldn’t risk your reputation and status for me unless you were fucking me, I guess.”

“Crude.”

You turned your head to him and sighed, “They think I’m the whore of the family. It’s just too funny sometimes.”

Steve’s face fell, “I’m sorry about that.”

You shuffled in your blanket to pull your arm out and wave it in the air. “Used to it.”

Steve didn’t press further, deciding to lay back finally to find a cozier position. It was quiet for a few minutes, just breathing and slight motion disturbing the silence. You opened your eyes and stared at the moonlight hitting the steering wheel. By the sound of Steve’s breathing, you knew he wasn’t fully asleep yet. So you allowed yourself the smallest confession, a crack in the door Steve was figuratively standing outside of.

“My sister is his prized possession, though.”

Steve didn’t respond, but from the sound of the blanket moving you could tell he had turned to face you.

“Never knew why.”

Steve pondered your words for a long time, long after your breathing became slower and tiny snores left your mouth. He didn’t exactly know what to say or what to do. It wasn’t like you dropped top secret information on him or anything, but it made him wonder just why in the world your father hated you so much.

You had done everything asked of you. You were controlled, tortured mentally everyday, having to endure and make decisions that Steve knew you didn’t want any part of. Your father should be thanking you for keeping his business afloat, for expanding it, for roping Steve’s own name into that life. As he contemplated any rational reason for such hate, he heard your soft snore turn into an innocent purr, and he felt himself leaning more into a mutual understanding. It frightened him, gripping his reality by the throat, because Steve actually knew why. That innocence he saw with you, no doubt had presented itself to your father involuntarily and your father knew.

He knew you were good at heart.

Taglist: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise

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im-totally-not-an-alien · 3 years

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Final Fantasy 7 prompts # 71

1. Post AC Turks get turned into bunnies. Rufus only loves them more.

Its even funnier if the Turks go about thier duties as normal. Can you imagine being interrogated by a bunny?

2. Sephiroth gets turned into Cloud and isn't sure how to undo the transformation. AVALANCHE unwittingly invites him in, ignorant to the fact that the real Cloud was on a different continent entirely.

3. Cloud was incredibly jealous when Sephiroths attention wasn't on him.

Thankfully, the silverette didn't seem to notice

4. Cloud goes full psyco possessive over Zack the same was Sephiroth does over him. This, of course, does not sit well with the silver stalker and Zack is just there trying to keep them from stabbing eachoth-oops. Too late.

5. Time traveler Cloud, but he's a really weak poltergeist. He kept scaring people with vague ghost things until Genesis finally convinced Sephiroth and Angeal to do an Ouija board session with him.

Inspired by the idea of Cloud telling Genesis to 'fuck off' via spelling out letters on the board.

Cloud might also resort to txt speech if he gets desperate.

6. Au where Genesis was sent to check out a meteor crash site, only to discover a blond man and three silver haired children drinking mako strait from the pools.

Genesis just stared for a few seconds while these nutcases drank the mako like a dying man drinks water in an oasis.

He's later surprised by how quickly the silverettes took to Sephiroth. They were even referring to him as thier "big brother" withing five minutes of meeting.

Hes not jealous. He's not. He's more amused by Sephiroths awkward joy than anything.

Then there was the blond. "Cloud" tended to follow Angeal around like a grumpy chicabo, often staring at the mans sword. His childhood friend was overjoyed when he discovered the blonds knack for gardening. Infinite in mystery indeed.

7. "What the hell!?"

Tifa rushed over to where her boyfriend had knocked over his barstool in his haste to stand up. "Cloud?" She asked hurriedly, "are you alright?"

The blond shook his head in disbelief, "Someone prayed for rain."

Ruby colored eyes blinked owlishly, "and thats a problem, why?"

"Because they prayed to me."

8. Cloud accidentally does the one thing that terrifies Sephiroth.

The blond is baffled that something so mundane could have sway over a wannabe god

9. Time traveler Cloud is popped back into his 16 year old self body, with all his enhancements but none of his gear.

He explores the tower a bit, swiping materia (he learned from the best) and looking for a weapon.

Unfortunately for Angeal, Cloud noticed the Buster Sword on his back and just- yoinks it from its harness and takes off running. Cloud flees the tower and goes on the run, leaving the very confused commander swordless and in shock.

Several months later, Angeal is pleased to finally have his sword back and the blond in custody. He wanted to ask the blond why he would steal Buster anyway. Too bad the blond escaped soon after, stealing the sword from his right off his back- again- and even took one of the commanders potted plants, which he still couldn't wrap his head around.

Hint: It was spite

10. Sephiroth accidently travels to the past and wakes up to a certain blond Trooper bridal carrying him to a log cabin to escape the snow.

11. Time traveler Sephiroth carrying an unconscious Trooper Cloud to Hojos lab to recreate the experiment that made him "perfect"

Hojo is thrilled that there's two Sephiroths and a new test subject hand picked by his greatest creation.

Sephiroth also begins communicating/ sharing memories with this worlds Jenova to help keep an eye on Clouds progress and to make sure the good doctor isn't doing anything hes not supposed to.

Meanwhile, Kunsel is reporting to this world's Sephiroth about the multiple sighting of a second General...

12. Aerith and the planet trying to play matchmaker

She couldn't help herself, she always thought Tifa and Rude were cute together. Oh, and Cloud and Vincent! So romantic!

Shera and Cid weren't getting out of this unscathed either. No one is safe!

13. When the planet suggested that her champion should change his approach by "appealing to the trinitys heroic sides" she didn't mean "become the villain and force thier hand"

She shrugged it off since it was working, but was the cape really necessary?

Aka Cloud becomes an overdramatic fake villain to save the world and enjoys it much more that he thought he would. Also trolling Sephiroth and the angry red head is a lot of fun, almost as much fun as the ridiculous monologing and dramatic speeches.

He bursts out laughing when he discovered that made a TV show about them.

14. Every so often Cloud has to drink a bit of high concentrated mako to keep healthy.

Sometime people catch him doing it and freak out

(Inspired by Shinra making SOLDIERS by letting people down mako like shots)

15. Au where Cloud killed Don Corneo and became the new mafia boss. Cloud is surprisingly terrifying when he wants to be.

Bonus: Time traveler Denzel gets taken in by Kunzel and kicks Hojo in the crotch.

Sephiroth: Are you sure I can't adopt him?

Kunzel: No, he's already mine.

Genesis: Too bad. I'm his second dad now. You can't stop me.

Denzel: My dad is Cloud Strife

Cloud, who is like 15: ???

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy vii #prompts #ff7 prompts #cloud strife #sephiroth #zack fair #sefikura #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #denzel #kunzel #final fantasy 7 story prompts #final fantasy 7 prompts #final fantasy prompts #hojo #tw: hojo

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joyful-soul-collector · 3 years

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❄️Week 1: December 9-15❄️

stars in the city ch. 10 by @parkrstark (Pt. 3 of constant as the stars above)

Summary: Peter and Steve are finally settling into their new life with Tony. Recovery isn't always a straight line, especially with a four-year-old, but they're trying their best. Their newfound fame has Steve juggling between his private life and the one plastered on the front page of every tabloid. He shouldn't have been surprised that the public didn't believe in his rags to riches love story. Tony usually makes it easier for him to handle it all. Until he starts to distance himself from Steve, as if now he's the one hiding something. And Steve is left wondering if he's about to lose Tony for good this time.

Relationships/Tropes: Stony, Irondad, Papa Steve, Homeless Peter Parker, Homeless Steve Rogers, No Powers AU, (Coffee Shop AU??? Sorta)

Review: This fic just always makes my heart ache in the best way. So much fluff, so much angst, it's a perfect balance that I'm just absolutely in love with!

❄️

Devils Roll The Dice ch. 9 by @ephemeralstark

Summary: “I miss you Mr. Stark,” Peter admitted as he stared up through the leaves overhead at the stars that twinkled promisingly at him, “I wish you were back here. I would give anything to fix things, I would give anything for you to be alive today.” What Peter didn't know, as he made that wish and closed his eyes, letting the tears fall shamefully, was that the Universe was always listening, and it was dangerous to make a wish and offer up anything. - Tony Stark wakes up in his bed one morning, not realising that months have passed since his death - that's going to be awkward to explain to the world. Peter Parker has been living on the streets, trying to hide his identity as the entire world wants Spider-Man dead, and dealing with the trauma that Beck left him. To make things worse - it's now his fault that yet another bad guy thinks they're entitled to owning Earth.

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Spideychelle, Pepperony, Happy Hogan/May Parker, Homeless Peter Parker, Post-FFH, Post-Identity Reveal, Tony Stark Comes Back To Life

Review: Oh man this fic is so sad and so sweet, I love it so much! I love how it combines Peter's trauma after Mysterio with his reaction to finding out that Tony is alive again, it's just so creative!

❄️

His Heart Bloomed Sunflowers (and he wore them on his skin) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 24 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Peter honestly didn't know how no one had discovered his tattoos yet. He wasn't broadcasting them but he wasn't exactly being the most subtle either. Although he was partly grateful for it since he was dreading what would happen when May on Tony saw them. But he was pleasantly surprised at the reactions that he got when he was found out. Peter had expected anger, disappointment, maybe annoyance at the very least. What he got was far from that. (A sequel to Comfortember Day 4. Anxiety) Comfortember Day 29. Make/Build/Create Something Beautiful

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Spideychelle, Tattoos, Comfortember

Review: I love this fic so much! I loved the description of how the flowers wilted when the ones he'd drawn had faded, and how the ones he got tattooed never wilted again :']

❄️

I’ll drive all night (to keep them warm) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 23 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: For the next hour they tried to calm Morgan again but, just like the rest of the day with Tony and Pepper, nothing was working. No teething rings, gel, nothing. The little girl was just well and truly grumpy, tired, and sore.

Suddenly an idea came to Peter and he turned to Tony and Pepper.

"Can I try something?"

They both nodded at him, prompting him to continue with his idea.

"Can I take her for a drive?" He asked. "I'm not sure if it'll work but Ben used to do it for me when I was younger and it always calmed me down."

Comfortember day 28. Car Ride

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Baby Morgan, Car Rides, Comfortember

Review: This one was so cute! I love Peter being a good big brother to baby Morgan, and I relate to finding trips in the car relaxing and nice :D

❄️

It’s What Brothers Do by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 22 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Morgan was somehow full of even more energy than usual that day and wanted to see if she could do the monkey bars that were attached to the jungle gym herself. Before Peter could stop her, she had already grabbed hold of the first one and let herself swing towards the next one.

But the little girl had misjudged just how heavy swinging your own body weight was and almost immediately started falling. Peter shot forward from his place on the ground, jumping and diving, just managing to catch her before they both hit the grass of the park grounds. Comfortember Day 27. Park

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Pepperony, Peter & Morgan, Irondad, Peter Protects Morgan, Comfortember

Review: Another cute Big Brother Peter fic! I love that Peter was really protecting Morgan in this one, he loves her enough to put himself in harm's way to protect her

❄️

The Burger Debate by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 21 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Tony and Peter shared a lot of similarities, there was no doubt about it. A lot of their mannerisms were the same, personality quirks (especially in the lab), occasional recklessness, selfless hero personas, etc etc. However, one thing they didn't share was their taste in burgers. Whenever the topic came up there was a friendly, yet heated, 'disagreement' as Tony called it. No matter what anyone ever told him, Tony thought that a cheeseburger was the holy grail of burgers. And Peter, well… he happened to think the same only for chicken burgers.

Comfortember Day 26. Junk Food

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Infinity War Compliant, Not Endgame Compliant

Review: This was so sweet and so sad, especially the part where Tony couldn't eat burgers while Peter was snapped because it hurt him too much. It showed his grief really well

❄️

Career Day Drabble by @jen27ny

Summary: uncle happy and uncle rhodey come to peter’s career day

Relationships/Tropes: Happy & Peter, Rhodey & Peter, Happy & Rhodey, Minor Irondad, Career Day

Review: I loved this story so much! I really appreciate seeing some nice Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy content!!

❄️

Gifts by @wayward-fairchild (Pt. 5 of Holiday Collection 2020)

Summary: Rhodey and Tony have been together to the point Rhodey sees the kids as his own. Maybe that is why the kids agree to help with Rhodey's biggest gift to Tony yet.

Relationships/Tropes: Rhodey & Tony, Irondad, Rhodey & Peter, Christmas, Kid Peter

Review: This was just absolutely adorable! I love some Irondads content and this was very sweet

❄️

evermore by @lyssismagical

Summary: Just a Solid Vent Fic. I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho

Relationships/Tropes: Spideychelle, Irondad, Peter Overworks Himself

Review: I loved this one a lot! I definitely relate to Peter with tending to overwork myself during school and letting other things fall away, and then feeling quite exhausted after it's all over haha. I'm glad MJ and Tony were able to help him <3

❄️

Two Hours Spent Cuddling by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 2 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: A giant snowstorm takes out the power in the tower. While waiting for the backup generator to come up, the Stark-Rhodes family finds a way to stay warm.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: I. Love this story. So much. I haven't seen very many stories that center around Rhodey being a father-figure to Peter, and this one definitely filled all my desires for such a story! It's so fluffy and sweet, and I loved every word :D

❄️

Three Stark-Rhodes’ Decorating by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Tony, Rhodey, and Peter Stark-Rhodes begin decorating for the holiday season.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This story was absolutely adorable! It was another featuring Papa Rhodey and Dad Tony with Little Peter, and it was so well done! I love that Tony's robots and JARVIS each get a stocking hung over the fire too, and the way Peter pronounce ornaments as "orminents" was so cute!!!

❄️

Four Poorly Wrapped Presents by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Peter has two presents each for his Daddy and his Papa. The only problem was, he had no idea how to wrap them. He figures the Avengers could help.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Avengers Family, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This was so sweet! Clint, Nat, and Steve treat Peter with such sweetness, and it made my heart all fuzzy and warm <3

❄️

If you look at any these stories, be sure to show the author your appreciation with a comment/kudos/reblog where applicable!

Click here for more fanfic rec lists!

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greeneyesandtea · 3 years

Text

Elf on the Shelf

The Elf on the Shelf was a huge deal in the Styles home this year with Baby boy Styles declaring he is now Big boy Styles due to his promotion three weeks ago when Scorpio baby Sebastian or Bashy as Alex had taken to calling him arrived. Now that Alex came to the age of realizing the purpose of the Elf on the Shelf Harry saw on pinterest like any other mom it relatively soon became Lia’s job to organize and create a cheerful but messy Elf on the Shelf idea every night from November because quarantine already has made things gloomy babe and tonight was no different in the Styles home.

“So I saw this one it looks pretty cool. We throw flour on the table and have Lala walk across the house tracking flour all the way to the kids rooms.” Harry said, pointing his screen to her back as she was facing the stove,Lia quickly turned around to see the mess Harry wanted to cause and her eyes rolled so hard that she could practically see her skull.“Your face is screaming shut the fuck up Harry.”

Lia was putting the water to boil for the bottles that Bashy uses during the night feedings since Harry found it was the best time with his little mate.He now had a little lad and best mate,all he wanted for years and now that he’s got it his world has been completed.Lia’s world as well has been complete but that doesn’t mean their perfect world hasn't come without their challenges.

“Because you just suggested I track flour though the home I clean everyday with a baby strapped to my nipple.” Lia turns her body around completely this time to make full eye contact. “You make the mess.You clean it up.You and Alex can both learn the lesson together now.”

“We know the lesson.I know the lesson. I just like seeing you bent over in those green panties you call shorts during breakfast.” Harry stands from the island padding on his hanukkah sock covered feet, a gift from Ben and Mer and wraps his arms around his now grumpy wife, his chest to her back and “I’ll help clean.” Lia cranes her neck to look at her husband and raises a brow at him. “This time I promise.Jeez a man doesn’t do it once and he never lives it down”

Placing the last bottle in the pot and placing the lid on it,the couple takes a minute after to soak the warmth and smell of each other in the oddly quiet home.The home was usually filled with baby gurgles and whines of mommy please! One more snacky! and the music Harry plays as background noise.

“Something else babe please I really don’t want to have a hectic morning tomorrow. Bash hasn’t been still for days now I don’t want to deal with a crying baby and a mess.Let’s just keep looking,let’s see what mess Lala can get into tonight yeah?” Lia turns herself around placing a soft kiss on the tip of his chin and grabs a hand that fell on her ass and walks him over to the table where they eat breakfast because of the bench Harry just needed to have there because one day that bench would be filled with Styles babies.

After a few scrolls through google and pinterest before Lia saw it! Mischievous Lala was going to cut a few pieces off the boys pajamas and on the white board she was going to tell the Styles boys that Santa needed proof Lala was watching to see if the boys were being good or bad.

“Look baby.Lala can cut some holes into their pajamas,they’re growing out of them anyway.” Lia took the side of her thumbnail and started biting at the cuticle and showed Harry her Pinterest board of Elf on the Shelf ideas.

“Stop that!” Harry batted Lia’s hand away from her mouth and ghosting his lips on hers quickly Lia almost missed it because of how fast it was. “Well let’s get the scissor and start cutting.I’ll write Lala’s message.” With a pat on the bum the couple springs into action.

Slowly making her way into Sebastian’s nursery taking in the sound of her baby’s gentle breathing.Lia took the swaddle off on one side and cut three small holes.One on each shoulder blade and one right on his breast milk filled bloated tummy. Lia quickly swaddles Sebastian back up before he feels the breeze come from the hallway that will surely wake him up and one thing she knows about her new addition is that no one absolutely no one wakes him up from his peaceful sleep.

As Lia was walking out of the nursery Harry had just finished taking the final piece off of Alex’s pajamas which had more pieces cut off. Alex being a stomach sleeper like made Harry let out a giggle as he cut two big pieces right where Alex’s bum cheeks where kept warm by the pants but due to Harry’s humor now missing one patch in fabric on the center of each bum cheek and two holes on each sleeve but worst of all was Harry took it upon himself to give Alex a trim.I piece of curl that kept getting in his eye it didn’t drastically change his hair but with lockdown both parents decided a haircut was not worth the risk of getting anyone sick.

Waiting for Harry to leave the big boy bedroom only to meet his missus in the hall.Everything was fine until Lia trailed her eyes from her husband's face to his hands.

“Harry Styles!” The parents have mastered the whisper yell very well and this is what Harry knows is a true I fucked up moment “I said cut a few pieces of his pajamas not cut his hair! Harry Oh my God your nan is going to have a fit she loves Alex’s hair.” Taking the hair from Harry’s hand and seeing the stand that now in Lia’s hand looks much longer than it did in the Sunflower shaped night light dim.

“It did not look that long in the room.I swear!” Their eyes zone in on the little bundle of hair and little giggles escape from both their lips.

“It’s okay.” Lia turns to walk down the hallway and turns around before she takes a step down the stairs. “I like being the only woman in this house and Lala fucking up Alex’s hair only secures that.”

With a white board and dry erase marker and a small tiff on whose handwriting is better You’ve spelled your own name wrong dummy the pair went to sleep peacefully holding each other.Harry’s arm around Lia’s waist and a leg between her knees and Sebastian only waking up once during the night. It was going to be a good day tomorrow was Harry’s last thought before he drifted into sleep holding his wife.

Harry’s high point ended at 9:30 am because a sob rang through the home,the sob came from Alexander Nash Styles.Alex was standing at furthest five inches from Lia’s face.

“Mummy.” The choked out sob rang through and Lia opened her eyes confused and then had wide eyes after she registered her baby was in tears and had a bright red face damn near hyperventilating.

Both parents springing up from their position wrapped in each other to pull their four year old into bed with them.

“What’s wrong baby? Did you throw up, it's okay.” Lia asks with her sweet Alex perched in her lap.

“No.” it barely came out but when it did the force of the cry almost made him throw up.This was not a normal cry for Alex this sweet boy who barely cried as a baby let alone a toddler was having a full on terror cry.Shoving his face in his mom or Mum as Harry insisted chest,Lia could only rub his back and shh his until he calmed down after a few more sobs.

“Now that you’ve calmed down,want to tell momma what’s wrong?” Lia took a hand and placed it on the side of his face and placed a kiss on Alex’s puckered lips as he already knew that was his mummy’s motives. “Thank you for the kiss.Now let’s wipe these tears and tell mummy what happened.Did you have a bad dream?”

Alex shook his head so hard it collided with Lia’s collarbone making her wince a bit.

“Lala cut-” little whine slipped from his throat. “Cut my pants on my bum and then...cut my curlies.” The cry started again Lia and Harry shared a look and then a giggle which caused Alex to look at his parents. “Oh no Bashy.What is Lala cut Bashy too.”

The thought of his baby brother getting a tailor job from Lala scared him so much and took him to protective brother mode.Alex made a mad dash to the nursery making both parents move out of bed because Bashy could not be woken up on due to someone else.

“Careful it’s only been three weeks!” Harry warmed his wife who was quick to jump out of bed but Lia waved him off speeding down the hall in her green sleeping shorts to see what Alex was going to do after one noticed that Bashy had fallen victim to Lala as well.

Lia was met with a plea from Alex to get his baby brother out of his crib and check him.

“No,Alex come on let’s wait for him to wake up on his own unless you want a cranky brother.” Lia keeps her voice down as Harry goes to pick Alex up and starts to walk him out.

“Let’s let baby brother sleep,I'll check him later.You and I can make breakfast,let mummy and Bash sleep for a little longer.” Harry said as he walked down the stairs but before he could respond Sebastian’s cry rang through the house and caught the attention of Alexander to which Harry threw his head back and hoped Lia could get the message telepathically and change Sebastian fast before Alexander threw another fit.

“Put me down daddy! I need to check Bashy now!” The four year old thrashed himself in his daddy’s arms and had more strength than Harry had thought.Alex was a little man on a mission running up the stairs and down the hall to his baby brothers room.Harry chased after him but was not fast enough because he heard the cry that came from Alex.

“Oh no!Lala got Bashy too!”

And the sob continued leaving Alex’s mouth which caused Bash to let out a cry and the parents at a loss for words.For the first time in three weeks both their babies were crying at the same time and neither knew how to begin consoling them.

“I should have just let Lala track flour through my house.”

#dad!harry #daddy!harry #Harry Styles #harrystyles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #one direction imagines #one direction #harry #styles #not proff read and if you don't like it don't tell me I'll cry #constructive #criticism #is #okay

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wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 3 years

Text

One Photo → Mark Lee [4]

↳ Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳ AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳ Warning: Suggestive

↳ Word count: 4,556

↳ Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | You Are Here! | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THURSDAY - 4

The next day, you quickly went onto Blackboard and finished your online class final as soon as you woke up. Tired and a little grumpy, you were happy that Rhiannon had already left the house for her lab, leaving you with a full range of the tea kettle and whatever cereals you had left in the cabinet. You suppose you should go grocery shopping on the weekend.

You have some music playing through your phone as you go through the motions of your morning, brushing your teeth and hair, dusting on the tiniest bit of makeup and a swipe of lip balm to your lips. When it comes time to choose an outfit, you slip on a pair of shortalls and a white Star Wars shirt that Rhiannon had bought you for your birthday last year.

It almost felt like a dream to be where you are right now, to be going out and getting your first real taste of business, what it would be like to go out in the world and have people pay you for your work. All of it was happening because you met your soulmate.

You looked at your hands, scars still ever-present. They'd be there forever, and not long ago you had detested the idea of ever having them. Even to the point of making Mark afraid to speak to you about it, and a twinge in your chest came with a sudden feeling of guilt.

You had been in love with Mark for a long time, as much as any fan of his would say, maybe more. Finding out that he was truly meant for you was beginning to chip away at the bitterness you had acquired growing up. Maybe you still had some doubt for all of this, as things would actually still work out when he left to go back to Korea, but being around him felt like all of your aversions wouldn't matter one day.

Letting go of the nerves living inside of you was difficult, but you managed to clench your hands and smile. This was all a part of your dream. Perhaps one day you would be able to look on your body and not think back on your life before. Thinking positively from now on was your goal. With that, you grabbed your camera and your bag, heading out the door.

On the subway, you listened to your playlist, a shuffled mix of your favourite songs. You zoned out until you reached your stop, wandering about the station and grabbing a candy bar on your way out. The morning itself was still but the rush of subway trains and people in a hurry created wind currents that caused you to need to smooth out your hair constantly on the way to your destination.

As soon as you enter High Park, any grumpy fatigue you had been harbouring since waking up melted away. The sheer beauty of the park always managed to awaken the artist within you, whether it be filling up your camera with photos of trees and the cherry blossom petals in the spring; amber, red and brown leaves in the fall and the snow-capped branches in winter, or just doodling people in your sketchbook while sitting against a tree after class. It was one of your favourite places to be.

You sat against a cherry tree by the path you and Mark walked on together, letting small petals of cherry blossoms to float down and land on your hair. You gripped your camera tightly and aimed it without thinking, capturing the emptiness of the park that surely wouldn't last forever.

Sometimes you had thought about wandering so far out into the wilderness where you wouldn't see any other people or man-made objects as far as your eye could see. Then, you could take photos of the beauty the planet has to offer while breathing untainted air and feeling fresh wind on your face.

Just then as you closed your eyes to imagine it, a small breeze grazed your cheek. The warmth of the sun washed over you and it nearly made you want to take a nap right there on the grass. The day already feels so wonderful, and there was only one thing missing to make it perfect.

"(Y/N)!"

Your eyes flutter open as Mark runs up to you. He's accompanied by the small crowd that are his bandmates, all walking along the path all at their own pace. Mark reaches you and sits down on the grass next to you.

"Hi, Mark," you greet him with a blush, watching him as he plucks a cherry blossom petal from your hair.

"You look lovely," he comments with a shy smile. "You haven't been waiting long, right?"

You smile warmly at him. "No, don't worry."

Mark grinned back at you. "I'm happy the weather cooperated with us," he remarks, taking a moment to look up at the blue sky, dotted with two or three wispy white clouds. "It's a beautiful day."

"Yeah," this time, instead of looking back up at the sky, you're looking at Mark. It's fleeting, knowing he was so close to you that you could touch him. The way his profile is when he's looking up at the sky with a wondrous smile makes you want to take a million photos, but you hold back as you notice everyone else approaching.

Everyone in the group greets you, giving you a hug and smiling as you do your best to introduce yourself in Korean. Most of the boys assure you that they can understand basic English and not to worry about the language difference.

You're nervous, of course, to meet your favourite artists in person, especially all at once. In real life, they're all so tall and in some ways, it just feels so different than you imagined to interact with them.

There are little bits of conversation occurring as you all wait for Rhiannon, Donghyuck insisting that they all stay put to make sure she can find you. You're smiling brightly when you notice he's constantly on the watch for her, making you wonder if she would experience a similar situation to yours. He's speaking fondly of her to you as best he can, which makes your heart flip - knowing how happy she'd be if you told her about it.

There is maybe another ten minutes of discussing what all the boys want, background, poses, angles and composition when Donghyuck's small smile grows into a giant grin. He's waving at someone who is approaching from the distance, who stops in their tracks once they look up from the ground.

You take Mark's hand and squeeze it. "Come on,"

Everyone follows your lead, approaching your best friend. Rhiannon is clearly frazzled from a long lab, her hair in a messy ponytail, but she's dressed in a pretty, long black and white striped jumper and black heels accompanied by her large black purse that probably had her school uniform in it.

Once you get closer you wave at her, her returning wave much more subtle. She's covering her mouth with her other hand, and once you all reach her, you can tell she's crying.

All the boys are a little frazzled, but you know that they all mean well. She probably wasn't the only person to nearly faint when meeting them.

"안녕하세요," she manages to stutter through her hand. You're smiling at her, beckoning her to join the group, but she doesn't move.

The other boys are quietly complimenting her on her pronunciation and making comments to themselves, Johnny leaning toward you to ask if she's okay, but you're more focused on watching this all unfold. Mark nudges you with his elbow.

"Here, watch this." He steps up to Donghyuck and whispers in his ear, gripping the younger boys' shoulders and full on shoving him in Rhiannon's direction.

Donghyuck says a few startled words in Korean, none that you can really catch, holding out his hands and bracing for a fall. His grip lands on Rhiannon's shoulders and she is barely able to catch him by placing her hands on his chest.

Both of them yelp in surprise, the other boys watching and laughing warmly to themselves. Eventually, the two of them settle into a proper hug, Rhiannon shoving her tear-ridden face into Donghyuck's shoulder.

Mark wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your cheek, grinning mischievously. "I hope they're soulmates," he says, quiet enough that only you can hear it.

"I hope so too."

Rhiannon can barely keep herself composed as all the other members give her a greeting hug once they all manage to peel her and Donghyuck off of each other. She showers them in stuttered compliments and praises, all phrases you have heard her planning to say months ago while the two of you were discussing what you would say to your idols if you ever met them.

It's an emotional moment, and it makes you all the more motivated to spend the day making your task absolutely perfect. Just one photo.

You could have laughed at yourself. 'One photo', Johnny and Jaehyun had specified when you first met them. Like that was ever going to happen. In one take, Donghyuck had coughed and caused motion blur, another where Johnny's eyes were closed, Jaehyun's eyes were both somehow blocked at the same time by cherry blossom petals, and one more where Yuta stepped back and lost his balance on a large rock a child had kicked towards him while he was passing by.

Through Taeyong's insistence of a perfect photo and tiny bits of life getting in the way, you felt as if taking one photo for NCT127 was going to be the longest photo shoot of your career that hadn't even started yet. You all were laughing and smiling through it, which made the experience fun and enjoyable, even though there were so many things to consider.

Click.

Your smile was wide as you went back into your camera to look at the preview of the last photo you've taken. All the boys come out from their poses to gather around you and Rhiannon, each of them scrambling to get a good look at the tiny preview screen on your camera.

"I think this is the one," you confidently say.

Everyone is posed happily at the edge of the old cobblestone path, in between two cherry trees that were shedding cherry blossom petals, all of which were perfectly captured floating through the picture, none of them obscuring any faces. Everyone was smiling, had open eyes, and each part of the photo was clear and crisp. You even managed to think that you maybe didn't need to touch it up in photoshop at all. Even the lighting was nearly perfect.

"This is the one," Jungwoo agrees with you, after managing to push Taeil aside long enough to have a direct look at the camera.

"I think so too," Mark chimes in next to you. "You're amazing."

You're going red in the face as most of the boys begin to agree with you. Once you have your personal space back, you're able to turn off your camera and place it securely in your bag.

"Let's go for ice cream!" Doyoung suggests, and everyone else immediately agreed.

Spending time with all of the members of 127 and Rhiannon didn't really feel as crowded as you thought it would be. Of course, in reality, it was - especially at the small ice cream cafe you all ended up in - taking up two whole booths.

It all felt real and like a dream at the same time, genuinely spending time with them and talking, being friendly. The day wasted away as you all explored the city, wandering into random stores and picking out little trinkets as souvenirs. At times you would pull out your camera to take more photos, the day's progression adding to your different collections of lighting and atmosphere.

Eventually, you all had dinner together, splitting the cost of a giant order of homemade pasta at the St Lawrence market, piling onto the picnic tables on the lower floor and sharing a quiet few moments as the sun set on another day.

“So, (Y/N), what made you a fan?” Jaehyun is smiling at you, eyes switching between looking at you and Jungwoo who is sitting on your right, shovelling his pasta in his mouth. You don’t even think he’s chewing it.

“Rhiannon,” you say flatly. Rhiannon kicks your shin quickly after, she’s sitting in between Donghyuck and Jaehyun, smiling innocently. “Ow! Well, uhm, we were in high school at the time when she became a k-pop fan, and immediately tried to pull me down the rabbit hole as well. I was reluctant for a while, but eventually, I gave in. When I started exploring on my own, I saw your Firetruck music video and… well, the rest is history.”

Mark, who is sitting on your left, is grinning at you. “What’s your favourite song by us?” He asks and soon turns his attention to Rhiannon.

“Which subgroup?” She asks excitedly. “I can name one for each, so can (Y/N).”

You sheepishly nod. “All of them,” Johnny quickly chimes in, picking slowly at his own food.

“Well, it’s always been tough for me to decide but Boss is my favourite U song, Touch is my favourite 127 song, GO is my favourite Dream song and since WayV made a debut a little while ago with Regular, that’s my favourite by them so far.” You answer sheepishly, and Mark’s grinning at you. It’s probably because he’s involved with 99% of those songs.

“And yours?” Donghyuck is looking at Rhiannon expectantly. His accent is thick and you find it very endearing that he’s doing his best to speak English.

Rhiannon hummed, a grin spread over her face. “BOSS by NCTU, Whiplash by NCT127, We Young by NCTDREAM, and I really like the teaser video music for WayV’s debut.”

Donghyuck’s smile widens to a grin, “We hot,” “And we young!” Rhiannon, Mark and Donghyuck all sing in unison, which causes everyone else to start laughing.

Jungwoo finishes off most of his plate and hums as if he wants to ask a question. You give him your attention and he asks a question in Korean, but you can’t quite understand it. Before Mark can open his mouth to translate with a blush, Rhiannon does it first. “He wants to know who your favourite member was before Mark,” she says, grinning mischievously at you.

Your face goes beet red as you not so subtly look over at Johnny. He is looking between you and Mark, the latter immediately wraps an arm protectively around your shoulders. “Uhm… well, I really liked Johnny at first. I had a really big crush on him. Then Mark became my bias,” you’re looking at Johnny sheepishly, who is smiling sweetly at you.

Doyoung then chimes in, also speaking Korean, which Rhiannon translates to “now you’re making it awkward!”

The conversation continued in Korean, Johnny putting his hands up defensively and also turning beet red as Mark starts speaking, and everything is going so fast even Rhiannon can’t seem to translate it besides “Yeah, they’re arguing”. Meanwhile, you’re trying to eat your food and not react to the whole thing.

It takes a little while for everything to calm down, and at that point, you’re staring at Rhiannon who just shrugs at you. You’re awkwardly scraping sauce from the bottom of your dish as someone finally speaks up again, Mark tightening his grip protectively around you. “What made you so good at Korean, Rhiannon?” It’s Johnny, who is doing his best to not make eye contact with Mark, who you guess is still a little heated from that argument that ended not three minutes ago.

“Well,” Rhiannon starts shyly. “A lot of Korean TV shows and a couple of friends from live streams I watch.”

“It’s impressive, you should keep practising,” Mark praises with a smile.

"Thank you," Rhiannon is now also red in the face, grinning like an idiot.

"When are your birthdays?" Jungwoo is wiping his sauce-drenched face with a napkin, his accent thick. He's endearing, you think.

"Mine's July fifteenth, ninety-eight," you answer shyly, a little nervous to see their reactions, learning that you're older than Mark.

Donghyuck's eyes widen for a moment as he nearly shouts "Noona!" In your direction, making you fully hide your face in your hands.

"Your birthday is close to mine," Taeyong finally speaks up, and Mark rubs your shoulder gently to keep you from hiding your face. "Mine is July first."

"Mine's October twenty-fifth, ninety-eight," Rhiannon chimes in.

Donghyuck is almost equally surprised to learn this, but this time he's quieter. He still says "noona," while looking Rhiannon straight in the eye as she goes beet red and looks away from him.

"We are birthday buddies!" Yuta exclaims, grinning wildly and still holding a fork full of pasta that is slowly slipping off the utensil. "Mine is October twenty-sixth!"

This brings Rhiannon back from being shy. She brightens up, smiling over at Yuta who flashes her a big thumbs up - "we should celebrate together!" The conversation picks back up and once again begins to wildly veer from topic to topic.

Once everyone finished their food, you all walked around the lower levels, stopping at another shop full of Canada themed trinkets and souvenirs. Mark ended up buying a hilarious red and black plaid onesie, the butt of the pyjamas was removable and had a bear on it. Donghyuck bought a stuffed moose and the others bought a variety of shirts and maple flavoured treats. You ended up buying a stuffed animal yourself, a soft polar bear, an idea mind for it. However, you weren't sure you would be brave enough to ask Mark about it.

Not noticing the time seemed to be the growing trend these past few days, as when you all clamour out of the bottom floor of the market, it had gotten dark and the place was about to close for the night. All of you headed to the subway together, chatting and forgetting about life outside the day.

Mark held you close, an arm wrapped securely around your waist. "Can I walk you to your dorm?"

"Don't you think you should just go back with the guys?" You ask. "The subway is really expensive…"

Mark smiled and shook his head. "It's okay, we have special passes for when we're here. I just want to spend more time with you."

Your heart melted and you nearly teared up. "I want to spend more time with you too."

Mark grinned and held you a little closer as you walked. He was warm, and you wouldn't admit it out loud, but your entire body was screaming. You wanted to hold him forever.

You all separated at the subway station, the boys taking the opposite train. Rhiannon and Donghyuck had their own little moment before he left as their train arrived. They talked in Korean a few feet away from the crowd of boys and a little further away from where you and Mark were standing. It was sweet, watching them intentionally hug this time, holding hands until the last moment when the train was about to close its doors.

Donghyuck wanted to walk to the dorm as well, but Taeyong remarked that Mark had already been lectured enough the past few days he had decided to stay out late. Donghyuck protested but eventually had to give in.

Mark walked the two of you home, right to the door of your apartment.

"I'll leave you two alone for a bit," Rhiannon said softly, unlocking the door and slipping inside, leaving you and Mark alone in the hallway.

You looked up at Mark, who was returning your gaze and smiling at you warmly. "You are more beautiful every time I look at you," he says, a cheesy grin spreading across his face as he watches your reaction.

"Mark," you're nearly laughing as you say his name, "please, you make me blush!"

"Good," he speaks softly. "I just want to make you feel the best that I can in the time that I can."

That was when it hit you. Every time you had to think about having a soulmate, you had really only thought about yourself. You inwardly chastised yourself for being so selfish - and frowned.

"Mark, I'm sorry," you begin softly, and his expression turns to concern.

"For what? Are you okay?" He asks, hands gently cupping your cheeks.

You lean into his touch, "of course I am. I just feel terrible that all of this has happened to you so quickly. I only thought about myself when it hit me you would be leaving the day after the concert."

Mark nodded. "I'm going to miss you," he admitted. "But I feel amazing whenever I'm with you. I want to spend as much time here with you as I can, so I can remember it. Until the next time I can see you."

"Mark," he sighed as you said his name, "are we going to be okay?"

Mark nodded softly. "Of course we will be. No distance, land mass or body of water is going to get between us, ever."

"Okay," you whisper. "I trust you." You stare into Mark's eyes for a moment, his hands still gently resting on your face. He presses his forehead to yours, and your noses touch for a moment. That was when the moment both sped up and felt like it was slowing down at the same time.

Mark presses his lips to yours softly, his hands moving past your neck and your shoulders to your hips. He's soon moving to press you up against the wall of the hallway, trapping you between it and him. His mouth moves over yours, and you feel him hum and separate you for just long enough for him to kiss you from another angle, pressing his body closer to yours.

Your little shopping bag with your polar bear inside drops to the floor as you let go of it to place your hands on his chest. Mark groans into the kiss, backing up for a moment to look at you with hungry eyes before diving back in.

You don't know how long he kissed you for, hands running up and down your sides, tight enough that he could probably feel your bra underneath your t-shirt. You're suddenly whimpering when he presses his knee between your legs-

"(Y/N), get your ass in here before I punch your soulmate!"

Mark releases your lips with a sheepish laugh, licking away the saliva trail between your mouths, which almost makes you faint. His face is red, blush extended past his cheeks to travel to the bridge of his nose. "Sorry," he whispers shakily, "got carried away."

"Me too," you admit, trembling against the wall when Mark finally sets you free. "I, um-"

"Me too," he repeats, as if he read your mind. He takes a gentle hold of your hand. "Maybe another time?" You understand what he's implying, as if your entire body isn't on fire already, you quickly nod.

Mark lets your hand slip from his, and you can tell he is having a hard time peeling his eyes away from you so he can leave. "Mark, wait, before you go-"

"What is it?" He asks, tilting his head to the side. He's having trouble keeping eye contact, his eyes flicking constantly from yours to your lips.

"My polar bear," you start, picking up the bag you dropped earlier. "Could you please, um… cuddle him for a while? Until you leave?"

Mark's eyebrows furrow until he realizes what you meant, his eyes drifting from your face to look at the plastic bag you're holding out to him. "Will this help you when I'm gone?" He asks, gingerly taking the bag from you.

"I hope so," you say quietly, clinging to him in one last hug. "I'll give you something of mine in exchange."

Mark returns the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Sounds like a plan."

You watch Mark leave, nearly breathless and a pit at the base of your throat. Thoughts ran through your head of what could have happened if you weren't interrupted, the pit running further and further down your body to rest with the butterflies in your stomach.

Once you're finally able to go back inside, you really wish you hadn't immediately met eyes with your best friend, perched on the armrest of the couch and holding a mug of tea. Both her eyebrows are raised and a smirk is dancing on her lips.

"Were you two trying to fuck in the hallway?" She asked, taking a sip of her tea, watching you struggle to take off your shoes.

"N-no," you stutter, trembling hands giving away that you were… most likely lying.

Rhiannon laughed and shook her head. "Jeez. Learn to get a room," she jokes. "I'm going to bed."

"N-night," you call as you watch her pad into her own room and shut the door, leaving you to your own thoughts. It was hard for you to keep your brain from going off the rails as you changed into your pyjamas. You considered making tea, but you figured it was probably a bad idea. Shortly after changing, showering and doing your bedtime routine you slipped under the covers of your bed.Your rampant thoughts were made all the worse when you got a text from Mark.

Mark: I'm back safe

You: good, I'm happy you're safe

You: I'm about to go to bed

Mark: I wish I was there in bed with you

You could have audibly gasped when you read his text. You thought for so long with your fingers hovering over the keys that you got another text from him.

Mark: I'm sorry I got so carried away in the hall. I just really wanted to touch you. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable at all

You: no of course not, I actually really liked it

Mark: you did? Oh God… now itll never leave my head

You: I don't think it will leave mine either.. I really wish you could have stayed

Mark: me too but I would have gotten in a lot of trouble and the concert is already tomorrow

You: and you're leaving Saturday :(

Mark: yeah…

You: I want to kiss you again

Mark: I want to do a lot more than that

Your heart picks up speed and you grab your Death Star throw pillow to squeal into it. You're trembling even more as you type your reply.

You: I wish we had more time

Mark: we can make some if you come straight to the stadium after your class

You: ok

You: I'll run

Mark: looking forward to it

Mark: Rest well okay

You: I'll do my best considering

You: You too

Mark: yeah I promise I'll try

You locked your phone and placed it on your desk next to your bed and turned over, bringing the covers over your shoulders. It was hard to concentrate on sleeping, but you eventually dozed into a dream-filled sleep.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct #nct127 #nctu #nct scenarios #nct imagines #reader insert #fanfiction #kpop fanfictions #kpop scenario #kpop imagines

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