#also we learn why he is always hunched back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hornedqueenofhell · 9 months

Text

Shared Interests Pt. 2

Pt 1

Lucas pats him on the shoulder and grins at him, "You're doing much better Eddie."

"Don't condescend to me Sinclair." Eddie teases back and tickles Lucas's side, "You're the one who told me to do that stupid shoulder touch thing and Steve laughed whenever he looked at me for a week!" Steve may also have done it back to him at one point and made his knees go weak which just isn't fair.

"Wait, so is that why Steve asked if I wanted to learn how to pitch a baseball after we went up to cerebro for my date with Suzie?" Dustin had been confused at the time, wondering if Steve was trying to make him want to be a jock too.

Eddie nods and settles back in his chair, "Aside from the fact that I think he just wants all of you to be more physically active considering how much time we spend running from monsters, yeah."

Oh, Dustin had called it gross and sweaty and wanted to go home before he got a sunburn. And Steve hadn't complained, he ruffled Dustin's hat and told him to wipe his feet before getting in his car.

"Wait, does Steve think I hate him?" Fear bubbled through Dustin's veins, all the times Steve asked if he'd like to go see a movie or visit the library… was he going to lose his friend?

"Mmmm, I wouldn't go that far per say." At the devastated look on Dustin's face Eddie quickly drops the act, "No Dustin of course he doesn't, Steve loves you dearly. You guys could stand to ease up on calling him stupid or shit like that because that does hurt him, he wouldn't tell you that even on pain of death though."

Lucas and Will share a look at that and Eddie suspects that this isn't the first time that particular subject has been brought up by someone. His money is on El. That little girl loves Steve with every fiber of her being and watching them read or work on El's catch up work together warms Eddie's heart endlessly.

"So we have to do sports stuff now? Because of Steve?" Mike looks like he's swallowed a lemon.

"You realize Steve has other hobbies besides sports right?" Eddie points out, "The guy is literally in school right now learning to do hair professionally because he's so good at it." Case in point baby Byers missing bowl cut and his far less frizzy curls.

"I like that he tells me everything that he's doing because I don't like people standing silently behind me. He does it with El too because she's so worried about her head being shaved again." Will pipes in causing Mike and Dustin to turn to him. "He cooks too, likes to help mom with dinner whenever things go late."

Eddie beams at Will brightly, "Yep, although he's a far better baker. I'm always bringing snacks to band practice now, Gareth would probably fight me to the death to marry Steve himself; his sweet tooth has never been so happy."

"Okay but how is just listening to him talk about hair 'sharing a hobby', that just sounds boring." Mike says, complete with poorly done air quotes. He’s trying to mimic Eddie again but can’t get the motion quite right.

"Mike, if you grew up in a house all alone outside of when the rest of the party came over for d&d or sleepovers how would you feel?"

"Uhh great, no parents fighting, no dealing with Nancy, no having to be the only one taking care of Holly."

"For the first few weeks, sure. But what about when the silence sets in? When you're sitting alone at the dinner table for months, having to make every meal yourself. When a tornado or a storm rolls through and you're sitting in the basement wondering how long it'll take for someone to find your body, if anyone would even care to look. When you're sick and there's no one around to help you make a bowl of soup or bring you water after you threw up again. When there's no one to talk to for days on end because your friends have families and lives outside of you. How much would a conversation about anything, even the most mundane thing ever, mean to you then?"

"That's not-" Eddie cuts him off with a look and Mike hunches his shoulders. Dustin wants to go give Steve a hug right now.

As if hearing his wish the door to the basement opens and Steve walks down the steps, “Hey babe.” He says cheerfully as he presses a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.

“Hello sweetheart, class go okay?” He places his hand over Steve’s on his shoulder.

“Someone messed up the bleaching lesson horribly today, I’ll tell you about it on the way because we will be late if we don’t leave soon and I know how much you enjoy making puns out of the players names.” Also because they get skimpy with the nacho cheese at the concession stand when you’re late.

“Alright, one sec and I’ll finish packing up.” He squeezes Steve’s fingers before letting go to start scooping dice into his bag. As he’s packing his stuff away Dustin bursts out of his chair and wraps his arms around Steve hugging him tightly.

“Hey man, where’s the fire?” He chuckles lightly as he hugs Dustin back, the boy's hat is digging into his chest but he doesn’t mind.

“This weekend, would you like to go to the library? We can go read comics or something.”

Steve smiles brighter than the sun as he squeezes Dustin tighter, “Yeah Dust, that sounds great!”

“I love you Steve.” He says softly into the older boy's chest. Steve’s not sure what brought this on, maybe Eddie did something in the campaign that scared them? He’d ask later.

“Love you too kiddo, get home safe and tell your mom hi for me.” He taps the brim of Dustin’s hat fondly before letting him go and taking a step back when Eddie places a hand on his shoulder.

“Ready love?”

Steve nods and folds his arm around Eddie’s waist, he had to get his clingy affection in now before they had to pretend to be just friends at the game.

“Alright we’re off kids, ponder the lessons you have received today and prepare for combat next time.” Eddie calls over his shoulder as he and Steve head out of the basement.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #dustin henderson #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair

987 notes · View notes

serverusslaype · 6 months

Text

Special

just a random short angsty, sort of fluffy one-shot, Severus Snape x professor!reader

i just wrote this right now because im in an angsty sort of mood, and i wanted to post something. i miss you guys, and i am now currently writing part 14 to shameless!! woo!! that break did my brain well. i feel refreshed hehe. <3 thank you for giving me some tips on how to get rid of that godforsaken writer's block, good lord. i hated it. but i'm free now, until next time ;)

this is a drabble/one-shot so it's sort of vague-ish, so yeah, if there's any mistakes or anything i'm sorry. ;(

(i also didn't put the taglist since it isn't part of the shameless fic! just in case you wondered!)

warnings: mentions of cheating

"If it makes you stop crying," Snape began hesitantly as he stared at your tear-stained face, frowning with a scrunched nose of what seemed like disgust. "We can go back to my office, and I'll make you some tea." He said, shoulders rising and falling slowly as he sighed. Watching you be so sad and cry wasn't something Snape was fond of, and it was effecting him - more than he wanted to admit. He just hoped you'd accept his request of making you some tea, then perhaps he could figure out what was making you so upset, and punish the culprits. Snape had always had a little soft-spot for you ever since you'd joined Hogwarts as a professor a year or so ago. Usually he didn't feel such a way towards younger, new professors, however, your kind and sweet aura had him unexpectedly mesmerised the moment you'd introduced yourself to him. The Potions Master wasn't exactly sure why he felt this way towards you so soon, but he knew it couldn't be good - the last time he felt something like this was back when he was a child.

You looked up, still sobbing quietly, managing to slip a confused frown upon your face. "Tea?" You repeated quietly with a sniffle, pausing for a moment to ponder on Snape's offer. "...Tea would be nice."

You hadn't expected to bump into your usually gloomy, rude colleague whilst having what you thought was going to be a private breakdown after learning that your partner had cheated on you with your best friend. Almost two years down the drain, just like that. Snape had accidentally walked in on you hunched over your desk, crying hopelessly. He was about to walk away when you'd heard a deep sigh, startling you. And here you were. Being offered tea by him.

"Let's go then." Snape said with a flat tone, looking away from your sad eyes, unable to withstand the pain that was gathering in his chest.

You were at least two or three cups of tea down when you'd finally explained everything to Snape. From the start of your relationship to the unexpected demise. It dug up old, painful memories, and you were crying again.

"What's wrong with me?" You sobbed, taking another sip of the tea that Snape had made you; hot tears soaking your cheeks and dripping into the cup. Another deep, frustrated sigh slipped from Snape again as he watched you from his desk with a sad frown upon his pale features. "I don't get it," you sniffled, gripping the handle of the tea cup with white knuckles, "did I do something wrong?"

No, you couldn't do anything wrong, Snape wanted to say. He wanted to tell you how wrong you were, and how perfectly good you truly were. But he knew you wouldn't listen, and so he kept quiet, only muttering in disagreement.

"I doubt that, Y/N." Snape mumbled, though you didn't give him much time to say anything else before you stumbled into a self-deprecating rant.

"Maybe I wasn't worth it, I mean, it's not like I'm anything... special," you laughed dryly, avoiding Snape's cold eyes, "maybe I'm just the girl that everyone dates before they find their true love. I'm the girl that they use to find the one, I don't have any good qualities, I'm a pushover, and-"

Snape inhaled sharply, "Stop it, Y/N!" He bellowed, slamming a hand down on the desk that the two of you were sat at. Instantly, you went silent, your mouth hanging open in shock as your heartbeat suddenly sped into an incredibly fast pace. You glanced up at Snape with wet and wide eyes, startled by his unusual outburst.

"Severus-"

"No, Y/N," he held up a hand, silencing you, "you're wrong about yourself. You are special." Snape sighed, moving his hand to massage his temples. You couldn't believe what was coming out of this man's mouth. "You're more than enough. Your ex was clearly a fool to do such a thing to you. In fact, I can't fathom why they would choose your friend over you." Snape said with a stern tone, clearly distressed. Your mouth still hung open as you stared at him, flabbergasted. "You're kind, sweet, considerate, and your heart is twice the size than it should be."

"I..." You uttered quietly, staring at Snape, evidently speechless. He shut his eyes momentarily, suddenly realising what he'd just said. Yet another deep sigh slipped from his heaving chest, rendering you silent.

"You..." Snape stumbled, avoiding your eyes. There was no way he could look at you right now. He'd just opened the floodgates on what he truly thought of you. He probably looks like a right blithering idiot.

The room went quiet, and the two of you sat there in what felt like a somewhat-comfortable silence, taking the moment to acknowledge what had just happened.

You stared at the man opposite you, a sudden and unusual warmth blooming in your chest. For the first time since you'd met him, you took the opportunity to truly look at him. Snape's black eyes glittered in the low, soft amber light from his candles as he reluctantly glanced up at you, pressing his lips into an awkward thin and flat line. His shoulders rose a tad, tensing as he inhaled, and he shifted his gaze to the desk again. Clearly, he was unsure on how to navigate this current moment.

A tiny smile picked at the corners of your lips as you looked at him. "Thank you." You whispered, glancing down at his splayed out hands. Taking a chance, you reached out your own hand and placed it atop of one of his, feeling it flinch. Snape's eyes darted up to yours, and he returned your smile, though it seemed a little awkward.

Snape didn't say anything to you, he only nodded gently before pulling his hand back to himself after a few long moments, clearing his throat.

"Well, since you've stopped crying," he began, sitting up straight in his chair, "we can assume I've done a good job." A little chuckle escaped you, and it caused a loose, genuine smile to erupt on Snape's face. You noticed it, but chose not to say anything, instead silently admiring how well it suited him.

"Now I know who to come to when I'm sad." You joked lightly, and as quickly as the smile had arrived on his lips, it disappeared. You laughed, feeling a tad lighter. Though the awful situation still sat within you like a dead weight, waiting to be dealt with, it felt good to smile and laugh, especially with a man you thought to be devoid of such emotions.

"I don't think-"

"Thanks, Severus." You cut him off with a bright smile, making his heart flutter. Perhaps he would wander past your classroom a little more often than before.

Masterpost

302 notes · View notes

itryhardtomakethishouseahome · 3 months

Text

Arcane Characters saying I love you Pt2

~ Silco, Sevika, and Vander

A/n sorry this one's a little longer than pt 1, also reblogs are much appreciated✨🫶🏼

word count 1.8k pt 1 here

First time saying i love you pt 2

silco, sevika, vander

Silco~

‘It’s too quiet’ you thought, lounging in Silco's office on the sofa Sevika basically claimed as hers. The silence almost made you nervous mostly because it never was. The atmosphere was always filled with the sound of sevika working on her arm, faint explosions echoing from Jinx's lab, silco’s meetings, jinx yapping about her new inventions or arguing with Sevika, or even fin’s disgusting attempts to flirt with you while you catch Silco and Sevika rolling their eyes over his shoulder. Like clockwork, the tedious silence was broken by Silco barging through the door followed by Sevika.

“She’s a problem and we all know it!” Sevika seethed. You figured that they were either too angry to notice you or too angry to care.

Silco brushed his hair back and turned his head to look over his shoulder. “We?” You wanted to intervene but know that given the fact that 1. they’re both stubborn and 2. Sevika’s stature and gaze alone intimidate the hell out of you, it’d be useless but nonetheless you definitely piece together that it’s about jinx.

“Look,” Sevika took a deep breath, “I know you have a thing for strays and she means a lot to you but she is not your daughter. There is an entire city that relies on you and you’re doing nothing but making excuses for some unhinged kid. Even if you were her father you should know when to keep her in check instead of letting her be a loose cannon and put everything we’ve worked for in jeopardy. If you aren't going to choose between parenting her or acting like her boss, send her to the enforcers.” With that Sevika walked out slamming the door behind her. You definitely understood her anger and everything she was saying but Silco was trying. Granted he could be trying harder but for the life he’s lived he was doing all he could without being cold towards jinx. He COULD turn her in but everything she’s done she was told to do by him, he COULD abandon her and perfect everything he’s built but he knows what it’s like and he’s grown too attached. He was at a loss and you could see it in the ways his shoulders dropped yet looked so tense.

Sighing, Silco finally decides to acknowledge your presence. “Tell me my dear,” he said, hunched over his desk, “what do I do?” You stood up and walked over to him, gently ushering him to face you. It hurt you to see him like this, unraveled by his daughter and right hand. You take his face in your hands and he immediately sinks into your touch with glossy eyes. “Tell me how to parent her. Tell me how to be better.” he begs.

“My heart, you don’t need to be better. You’ve told her countless times to take things more seriously. Her not doing so is entirely on her, not you.” You tried your best to reassure him. “I’d suggest telling her that unless she shapes up she won't be allowed on more serious jobs but knowing her she’d throw a fit and go against you anyways.” Finally Silco cracks a smile and scoffs.

“That does sound like her, suppose my stubbornness has rubbed off on her.” he says, taking your hands in his and staring deeply and lovingly into your eyes.

“So be more stern with her, is what you’re implying?” he stated more so than asked, taking you in his arms. “Mhm.” you hummed.

“I'll give it a try, thank you my dear.”

“Of course, eventually she’ll listen. She just needs to learn that there are reasons why you tell her not to go all out. You’re a great father, you know.” He swears his heart skipped a beat.

“...I love you…” Silco whispers, holding you tighter. “I love you more.”

Sevika~

You and Sevika both work for Silco, you have since the start of his reign, and you both quickly learned how tiring and physically demanding it was. However, some days were worse than others today being a prime example for Sevika at least. You had to take care of some petty thieves in one of Silco’s stash houses that Fin had secretly hired but regardless you got to go home early and are now relaxing in your shared bed. Eventually you dozed off but got woken up by the sound of Sevika opening the bedroom door.

“Oh hey, sorry doll,” she gently kisses your temple. “Didn’t know you went home early.” she mumbles, taking her shoes off and throwing them across the room.

“Yeah because I’m lucky” you say with a smirk. Sevika lazily smacks your thigh earning a giggle as she plops next to you sinking her face into the pillow. “Lucky brat is what you are. Why’d you leave early anyway?”

“I finished my task quickly and was gonna wait for you but Silco said that jinx was with you,” Sevika groans at the name of her tiny nemesis earning a giggle from you. She then turns her head ushering you to go on while she starts caressing your jaw. “And that you’d most likely take a while so he sent me home.” she hummed in response. She didn’t say anything else, continuing to only lay on her stomach with her head turned to you, running her fingers down your jaw then suddenly shutting her eyes and jerking her hand.

“What's wrong? Did you get hurt?” You ask, sitting up immediately inspecting her for injuries noticing how she didn't move at all to calm you down.

“Nothin my backs just sore…” Sevika groaned. You could tell it was more than just her back, it was her shoulder blades and arm. Sighing, you got up and gently started removing her shirt.

“Angel I'm too tir-”

“Get your mind out of the gutter Vika I'm not gonna ravage you I just wanna give you a massage.” She utters a quick ‘oh’ before sliding out of her shirt then resuming her previous position.

“As if you could ever ravage me.” she scoffs. Ignoring her, you grab some lotion from the nightstand and take a seat on her butt. You apply the lotion to your hands before putting some pressure on her lower back deciding you’ll save the problem spots for last. Judging by how tense she is and how she groans you get the idea that she was long overdue for a good massage.

Once you clear all the knots and tension from her lower and mid back you focus your attention on the spot in between her shoulder blades, gently pushing down then dragging your hands around her shoulders hearing various pops, cracks, groans, and moans coming from her. There really isn’t anything you can do about the pain from the arm she no longer has other than press ginger kisses around the area. As she feels your weight shift from her backside to the bed she turns to face you once more, taking you in her arms and engulfing you in a passionate kiss.

“Y’know I'm gonna marry you one day right angel?” she playfully questions.

“Only seems fair,” you start, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “You already got acting like one.” she smiles, remembering everything you’ve done for her, especially when she lost her arm. You were always right there when she needed you but was too stubborn to ask for help, you were always at her beck and call.

“Oh please, it's ‘cause you love me… and I love you…so much.”

Vander~

You knew that when you started dating Vander that the kids would have to be in your life too and honestly you loved it. You would always bring them gifts like boxing gloves for Vi, trinkets and tools for Mylo and Powder, and snacks for Claggor. Anytime Vander would tell them not to do something they’d immediately run to you begging you to change his mind and sometimes it worked sometimes it didn’t. Today being one of the days it didn’t.

You were relaxing at the empty bar when Vi barged yelling about how something wasn’t fair while Vander trailed her. Vi spotted you and ran to your side.

“Y/n please tell him that we’re ready.” She begged without any context as to what she was talking about.

“What's happening?” you ask, lost as ever.

“Apparently the enforcers are turning the lanes upside down looking for us but this is our chance to fight! We need to stand up to them and now’s as good a time as any.” Vi explained. You assumed vander wasn’t having any of it given the fact that 1. the kids’ safety was everything to him and 2. he had an arrangement with the enforcers.

“There’s too much at risk if we do Violet! You need to stop thinking with these,” Vander says, grabbing her fists. “And start thinking with this!” he then points to her head. “The lanes isn't what it used to be. Yes we all still have the same drive as we did back then, but we’re not in the same shape as we used to be! We lost a lot of good people then and we’d lose even more now.” Violet thinks of her parents which Vander can see in her eyes. “You’ll lose powder, claggor, and Mylo too. We will rise Violet I promise you we will but now is not our time, there's too much at stake.” Vander looks to you for help and so does Vi. You love the kids but this is one thing that Vander would not change his mind about and to be frank you agree with him.

“I'm sorry Vi but he’s right honey” you take her face in your hands trying to get her to see how sincere you are. “A shadow of the lanes would be all that’s left. And I don’t wanna lose you guys.”

“...fine.” Violet mumbles before running off, leaving you and Vander alone. Vander walks over to you pulling you in for a hug.

“You really care about those kids huh?” He questions.

“Of course I do, I get that they want to fight but I wish she would see how badly this would end for us. It would end in a fiery blaze with everyone we love slaughtered.” You notice some blue hair peeking out from behind the wall and instantly know who it is.

“You can come out Powpow, is everything okay?” Vander turns around to face her as she takes a few steps towards you. She looked really sad, her eyes were puffy and she was holding what looked like a stuffed bunny. Vander stares at it thinking it looked familiar then it hit him.

“Look at me Powder,” he kneels in front of her, gently holding her shoulders. “Where did she go?”

“She said she was going to make things right and that she’d be away for a while.” the little girl sniffles. Vander stands up immediately and walks to you.

“I need you to stay here with the kids. I need to go get Violet.” he leans down and kisses you deeply before pulling away to head towards the door.

“I love you.”

195 notes · View notes

ivystoryweaver · 10 months

Text

Based on this request by @whatthefishh: “are you sure? once i start i don’t think i’m able to stop” + Steven Grant 🙈❤️

next | miniseries masterlist | my masterlist

In which you are a simpering mess for this adorkable man

Content: f!reader, Part 1: fluff, pining, bit suggestive, not beta'd - Part 1 can stand on its own, you do not have to read part 2 if you only want fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Steven Grant is something else.

Apparently, he vandalized the toilets in the Egyptian wing of the museum.

And got sacked.

Disappeared for a month.

And is now in your office, asking for his job back.

He has some nerve.

The thing of it is, you feel for him.

That is to say, you feel badly for him. You also feel other things for him. Such as attraction. Really intense attraction.

Which is not okay, seeing how he is several steps below your pay grade, begging for your mercy (ahem, professionally) and you cannot show any favoritism in hiring...or re-hiring, in this case.

"I'll get on my knees and beg, if it helps," he lets out a jovial little laugh, his dark curls rustling against his forehead.

That sentence would have sounded absolutely pathetic coming out of any other man's mouth. But Steven Grant is something else. You almost ask him to repeat himself just to hear it again.

"You see...it's just that you're the only one who's ever really been kind to me," he earnestly explains, leaning toward your desk, elbows resting on his knees.

Dark eyebrows shift back and forth - his brown eyes wide and pleading.

"And...well, I'd hate to take advantage of your kindness - "

Please. Please take advantage. Ugh, your intrusive thoughts are not welcome at this meeting.

"But I'd thought you'd be most likely to listen - you see, I have a disorder - "

"Sleeping disorder, right?" You interrupt, glancing down at his file. As if you need his file. You remember every word he's ever said. One time, he inadvertently let it slip that he used an ankle restraint and that just sent you...

"Oh, that? Eh..." He chuckles nervously, straightening up and scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

This is the day you learn Steven is a system.

All intrusive thoughts and unprofessional desires aside, this is something you take seriously. Steven has a diagnosis now - one you cannot ignore, nor can the museum use it against him. True, the toilets have been vandalized...by his alter. Not by him.

"I'd tell you more about why it happened, but you'd think me absolutely mad," he concludes, willing to share with you about his alter, but not an ancient Egyptian deity. Not today.

"Hey, don't talk about yourself like that," you respond, your eyes shining with sincerity and compassion.

There it is - the kindness you regard others with at all times - the dignity. Everyone has a fair shot with you, everyone deserves to be listened to. Sometimes Steven wonders if you would make a better therapist than a museum supervisor. Or perhaps he simply adores talking with you. And looking at you.

"Thank you," he breathlessly utters, his eyes glowing with gratitude, "for listening to me, I mean. Not many people do...listen to me, that is."

"I don't see why not," you return warmly. "I always enjoy our conversations, Steven."

That's not all you enjoy about him.

"Thank you," he repeats, blushing.

"So...which job is it that you're interested in?"

"Oh! Well, I'll take anything you'll give me. I'll do anything, really. Just say the word and I'm all yours."

Jesus.

Is it hot in here? Are you sweating? Oh god, you're staring. Are you staring?

Clearing your throat, you attempt to move this conversation along before you spontaneously combust.

"I think we have an opening for a tour guide," you inform. "Might be a little better suited to you than gift shop clerk. And it's not under Donna's purview."

"Oh god, really?" He gasps, his shoulders straightening from their typical, cute hunch. "You'd really let me interview - for a tour guide?"

"Of course," you sweetly reply. "We just need to set up a time for you to give me a private tour and I'll see what I can do."

The affection and adoration on Steven Grant's face is something you need to see again. Especially if you can be the cause for it.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

"Are you sure? Once I start I don’t think I'll be able to stop," Steven confesses, standing with you at the entrance of the museum's Egyptian wing.

Nearly every word out of his gorgeous, kissable lips drives you to distraction.

Feeling uneasy at your silence, he barrels on, "Just don't want to talk my way out of a job, is all."

"No, of course you won't, Steven, please. Go ahead."

So he does.

He talks and talks and talks about everything you pass by. And not just the major displays, but the tiniest bits of pottery, cracked and nearly forgotten. But not by him. His brown eyes glow with intrigue, his hands gesture animatedly.

He knows everything there is to know, even going so far as to point out that one of the name plates underneath one of the smallest, dullest, frankly most insignificant display items - is incorrect.

How has this man been stuck at the gift shop counter with Donna condescending to him daily?

He's actually managed to distract you from your desires - from your silly crush - and really impress you, professionally.

"Have I done it, then?" He sheepishly questions, pressing his palms together as if supplicating, then pulling them close to his chest. "Have I gone on too long?"

"No," you breathe, with heartfelt conviction. "It was amazing. You're amazing."

His eyebrows shoot up as he pushes up on his toes eagerly. "Wow, really?"

"Yes," you nod fervently, grinning at him. "You're hired. Congratulations, Steven."

Squeezing his hands into cute fists, he nearly shakes with excitement. "Thank you. Thank you so much!" And then, as if all his puppy energy bursts out of him, he pulls you into a quick, but strong embrace. The heat of his body electrifies you utterly.

"Oh, god, sorry. That wasn’t professional at all, was it? No. Please don't tell my boss," he laughs, attempting to joke his way out of his blunder.

You're reeling. Where others see an info-dumping nerd, you see a man so eager to please. And so handsome. And smart. How is he single?

"D-don't worry about it," you finally stammer, realizing he's withdrawn his fidgeting fingers to his chest. "No harm done."

"Sorry, I just get...passionate. I mean..." He gestures around him, his eyes sweeping over the ancient relics he knows so well - though his eyes ultimately land on you. "It's all so bloodly amazing, innit?"

"Yes," you laugh, although not mockingly. "I agree, it is. And I think this display is best left in your hands, Steven. I really do."

Taking you literally, he holds his hands up for inspection, turning them over adorably before thrusting them out toward you. "These hands won't let you down, boss."

Steven is still holding out his hands so you extend your own for a professional handshake. "Welcome to the team. Or - welcome back, rather."

The warmth of his palm enveloping your own sends a wave of desire surging through you.

Steven holds on a bit longer than most people would, his gaze falling on yours. "Thank you. Really. You don't know what this means to me. I don't know how I'll ever make it up to you."

You could think of a few ways.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

All my fluffy babes feel free to stop here and don't kill me for taking this suggestive prompt and making it fluffy! My NSFW fans, continue on to part 2 ->

IvyStoryWeaver's 500 Follower Celebration

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Moon Knight Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#moon knight ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight #mcu #Steven Grant x you #ivy replies #asks #inbox #lovely moots ⋱♡#Oscar Isaac fic #moon boys #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant x f!reader

271 notes · View notes

sixosix · 10 months

Text

IT WAS ALL BY DESIGN | KAVEH

tags second chance, angst and fluff, time-skips, DARK HUMOR, lovers to exes to lovers again, profanity

written for art @aanobrain, who i made a bloodpact with saying that if i were to write this they’d write me xiao, so here we are. hope u like it art

a/n wc 4K kaveh lore spoilers but i didn’t follow the canon timeline. kaveh meets al-haitham BEFORE the palace of alcazarzaray. also this has two parts

next part

kaveh first saw you when he was presenting his nth draft proposal to his fellow group members.

it’s stressful, it’s a mess, kaveh is lost, and so, so tired. this group is certainly the worst one he’s had yet, but he’s too far deep to back out now.

tamara sighs deeply, like a tired mother, and kaveh’s temper flares, “i understand your need to express your love for aesthetics, but don’t you think that it’s unwise to sacrifice practicality?”

kaveh’s jaw ticks. “sacrifice? i’ve already explained that i’ve thought of every detail to consider. give me something to work on, actual criticism, without just slandering my ideals.”

tamara enjoys insulting his beliefs because she is nothing like kaveh. or maybe it’s because he is nothing like her.

it always is like this. snobs treat his proposals—bursting at the seams with unique ideas yet never neglecting quality—like a joke, and they never get past getting called drafts. he never gets past calling any of his first proposals a success.

“the outside world wouldn’t be as lenient as we had been to your designs, you know,” another of them says. one of his mentors. “tamara is right. we don’t have to get too detailed. here, listen, what if you just change up the strange curve of this wall? and this pillar you…”

outside world, kaveh thinks bitterly. he had already dealt enough with the outside world, but keeping him cornered against a wall he had been building against them was far worse than that.

yet he can’t say this. he’s said enough already. if tamara’s face were to get any redder, he’d lose the opportunity for the materials collectively funded by these people.

kaveh sighs, defeated. “i know. i’m sorry i snapped. i’ll take in your suggestions. what did you say must be removed first?”

“hold on,” one of his group mates speaks up. anis leans her chair over to another table, tapping the shoulder of someone kaveh is sure he’s never damn seen before. “hey, what do you think?”

you squint at kaveh’s work, unfazed by anis interrupting your studies. kaveh doesn’t want to, but he can’t look away. “i don’t understand some of it, but it’s nice. this building would look beautiful in the jungle.”

anis returns the front of her char’s legs on the floor. “ahh, you think?” she muses, handing the paper over to you. “well, an outside perspective is just as important.”

with a pen in your grip, you point at somewhere kaveh can’t quite see, blocked off by the back of the paper. it’s blocked off your face, too. “could use a bit more ornamental flora. too little over here if you’re going to already add it. life doesn’t just come from bright colors, but other forms of life as well.”

“spoken like a true amurta darshan.”

you huff proudly, lowering the paper and revealing your smile. kaveh stares, and stares.

knowing how to appreciate beauty as he does is a trait he has always admired. he secretly takes your suggestions to heart, planning to pull another all-nighter for a few sketches. this is the beauty of the akademiya; why he never gave up as soon as he was first brought down—he learns so much every day.

his heart races just at the thought of it. it’s been days since he felt this.

kaveh wonders if he’ll see you again and doesn’t get much time to think about it again when he’s pulled back to reality, back to yet another proposal that’s been erased so many times, it looks more like a smudge of ink than something kaveh would proudly call his.

kaveh sees you again in the house of daena hunched over a book with your face pinched, sitting next to someone, and he thinks that might’ve been when he fell in love.

but no, that can’t be right. that’s not how love works. it takes time, courage, long nights, restless mornings—this is just him a few feet away from someone whose words he admired.

this must be more like passing by a picture that caught his interest. this must be more fleeting, more like what he deserves, like how the yolk is shaped perfectly on his breakfast for the first time in weeks, how the weather is perfect for smooth construction without disaster, or how his mother did not at least cry too much in a day.

he had only been trying to pass by and continue annotating the book he promised himself to get back to, which happened to be slotted on the shelf in front of your table. it’s sheer luck. and he might’ve taken advantage of it.

the student next to you is speaking. cyno, kaveh recognizes belatedly. “do you get it? because wave could refer to the motion of your hands, but it could also refer to an ocean’s wave, or what is the result of the wind blowing over the surface of—”

you clutch your head. with your eyes off the books scattered across the desk, kaveh sees this as a sign to turn away, a small smile on his face as he listens to your voice. it’s pleasant, much more than the ones he hears all the time around him. “please, cyno, have some respect for your senior and have mercy on the bags under my eyes.”

“i am,” cyno says sternly. “i am cheering you up. perhaps it’s because you aren’t under-sand-ing my jokes.”

when kaveh risks a glance, you throw a crumbled paper onto cyno, which he catches with unblinking ease.

“don’t make me call tighnari here,” you threaten, holding a pen to his face.

“is he going to give me pun-ishment?”

“cyno…”

kaveh gets his wits about him again and realizes that he had been picking more books than he needed, just in time to hear more of cyno, unfortunately.

“did you not understand? you see, the word punishment has pun in it, which is what i’m—”

“that’s it.” the sound of a chair sliding across the smooth floor echoes in the quiet halls. “you sit there alone. think about your actions; i’m going to get lunch without you.”

kaveh takes a step forward, you do so backward, and you catch each other’s eyes from the synchronized movement.

somehow, meeting your eyes makes his heart jump to his throat. he can’t tell if this is better or worse than when you were just at a different table and he didn’t have the chance to speak with you.

it becomes a moment too long: kaveh gets nervous, spinning around on his heels and pretending to look for more books. this is unlike him. his head aches trying to think about it.

once you leave, kaveh approaches cyno.

“cyno,” kaveh says with a smile.

“kaveh,” cyno acknowledges. “why were you just watching us? was there something wrong?”

kaveh’s blood drains from his face. “was it that obvious? was it?”

cyno nods. “you’re terrible at acting casual.”

kaveh sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ugh—whatever. cyno, hey, listen. that person you were with…”

“y/n?” he tilts his head. “did you need anything?”

“no, no.” kaveh repeats your name in his head, and files it away for later. “do you want to get lunch?” he asks, which he later realizes is an unspoken invitation for a new side of cyno he wishes he didn’t know. the puns hurt his head more than frustrating clients.

kaveh sits by himself in lambad’s tavern, lazily rocking his glass back and forth.

he’s made friends. plenty. but he’s not sure if he can confide in them if he were to go to them in this state.

he thought could consider al-haitham as one, but that blew over on his own face some time ago. it was a mess. kaveh’s not sure which hurt more: when he felt his own spite with how he trembled in spitting al-haitham’s name, or the fact that someone he almost considered a best friend seemed unfazed at all when they both knew that they wouldn’t talk to each other the next day.

al-haitham removed his name from the thesis, and kaveh tore up the copy he had of it. but unlike al-haitham, kaveh couldn’t bear the guilt and pieced them back together.

now they haven’t spoken for a while.

and he sits here, frustrated to the point of near tears.

he’s never felt as lonely as he feels right now, burdened by the stress accumulated from all those years with no one to tell him that he’s doing something right, that he’s going in the right direction. it feels childish, but when he closes his eyes, he can vividly imagine someone patting his shoulder, telling him he’s proud to call him his son, or someone pulling him close, kissing his forehead, telling him that she’d come back for him.

kaveh picks up the glass and takes a long sip.

“are you even allowed to drink?” someone says, too close to him.

kaveh inhales sharply, unfortunately breathing his drink along with it. he chokes on it, and some dribbled past his lips as he turns to the sound of the familiar voice.

you quirk an eyebrow. kaveh wants to gape.

“it’s coffee, and i’m allowed,” kaveh mutters hoarsely, flustered. how long have you been there? were you just watching him?

“but you’re pretending it is alcohol?”

kaveh looks away. he was hoping that no one would notice his dramatics.

“it’s funny,” you tell him. kaveh wasn’t really hoping to appear funny in his sorry state.

you call for lambad and tell him you want your usual. when lambad returns, he hands you a half-full glass of what kaveh could smell as alcohol. maybe he should’ve done the same, but his goal was to feel awake enough to finish his due project, not intoxicated and slurring his words together.

“well?” you turn to him, your cheek against your palm as your arm rests against the counter. “are you gonna act like it and bemoan your regrets?”

students of the akademiya have started to become familiar with the fact that kaveh is a one-of-a-kind genius. names like light of kshahrewar started to circle the halls loud enough for kaveh to hear it from rumors and to his face when they asked to collaborate with him or when they ask for too much of his time.

he was expecting you to do the same. he wouldn’t even blame you if you tried because he wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. yes, yes, i want to.

there is no liquid courage here, just the presence of you and his muddled mind finding it far too comfortable.

“my mother remarried,” he says.

you blink, pausing mid-way through drinking your fill. “oh…?”

“i’m happy for her,” kaveh says, confident, firm.

“here’s to that.” you clink your glass against his.

you weren’t taking it as a happy statement. he doesn’t want sympathy, but he knows that whatever you’re thinking is the irrefutable truth. perhaps you were mourning with him because he, too, knows that there’s nothing content about him when he has to reassure himself out loud.

kaveh wants to ask so many questions. he wants to pull out the stacks of papers shoved in his briefcase, ask you what you think of it, listen to you tell him that you understand its beauty, but it’d be more beautiful if he weren’t so afraid and confined in someone else’s ideals. he needs to hear you say it because he knows you’d say the exact same thing as he wants.

instead, he sits quietly, watching you from the corner of his eyes, entranced.

and kaveh—he’s longing. or maybe he’s just starting to feel loneliness.

“so, what happened between you and al-haitham’s group project?” you ask, wearing a smile that spells out you know exactly what you’re getting into.

“oh, don’t even get me started,” kaveh groans.

the night ends with his heart a little lighter than it was before. (this is still fleeting, right?)

it seems like after that, you’re just everywhere and always by his side. kaveh loves it. especially when he’s too caught up with the world and needs someone to distract him enough to remember that the world is splendid.

despite his desperate attempt at drowning himself in coffee in hopes of being able to remodel at least three rejected drafts, he doesn’t get anything done at all.

he knows that giving in and offering to help out everyone who asks him for it isn’t healthy. he knows it, and he sees the effects on his face, the paleness of his skin, and the mess of his hair.

when kaveh stares his paper down, he can almost see himself on it. not a reflection, but a shadow. it looks like a bird’s nest. he might as well get feathers to go with his hair and complete the look.

someone taps his shoulder, and kaveh somehow doesn’t feel like reacting accordingly. “kaveh, is that you? are you kaveh?” the stranger asks, all in one breath.

it takes him a few seconds. breathing in and out deeply. he turns around, hopes the eyebags on his face aren’t as heavy as they feel, and smiles.

“yes?”

“ah!” he recognizes the student. a few years younger than him. he can’t quite come up with a name right now. “thank goodness. they told me that you could help me with this, i knew you wouldn’t disappoint.”

“oh,” kaveh says, quiet.

if any of his friends were here, they’d glare him down, tell him that he’s going to bleed himself dry if he even thinks about saying anything aside from no. but they aren’t, and kaveh’s heart is bleeding out instead.

“what is it?”

“kaveh!”

you come stumbling in between him and the younger student, whose eyes bulge out of his eyes. he seems to be shaking, if kaveh were to look any closer.

without warning, you throw an arm over kaveh’s shoulder, leaning down to press your chest against his shoulder blade. kaveh’s breath hitches.

you tilt your head to appraise the cowering junior. “oh,” you say, as if not realizing he had been there all along. “daneh. did you need anything?”

“no. no, no, i don’t,” daneh splutters. “i’ll take my leave, i think— i think i should— please excuse me.”

while daneh runs off, kaveh tries to recall his breakfast and the procedure he did in his head to calm down and give himself the boldness to meet your eyes. what is happening to him?

dried fish fillet pan-fried until crispy, served in creamy, white sauce, sprinkled with mint—

“kaveh,” you say. your voice is too close to his ears, which he is sure is turning red.

—kaveh, kaveh, kaveh.

“y/n,” kaveh says, defeated, the grip on his quill faltering. “what was that about?”

he thinks he can feel a grin, and he badly wants to see what it would look like on your face. “i don’t remember telling you my name.”

curiosity wins. kaveh can’t help but smile along with you when he sees it. “you did it on purpose?” then, “cyno told me.”

“you asked around about me?”

“yes, i did,” he says, almost petulantly.

the way your mouth tips to one side more makes your beam come off more smug. “is that so?” you say, and kaveh feels like he’s bared himself to the world. “what’s this?”

kaveh follows where you’re pointing. it’s a mindless sketch he was practicing with; he doesn’t remember drawing half of it. “i was… oh, i don’t know, i just needed a break.”

“this is what you do on your break?” your fingers hover over the page as you trace the curved columns and drooping roof. “green. they look like leaves,” you tell him quietly.

kaveh’s smile turns softer at your sincere awe. “i know.” he wonders what’s going on in your head, then wonders if he’s worth knowing. “what do you think’s missing?”

“i’m no architect, but it could use a bit more of a… splash, you know? color. maybe some—”

“ornamental flora?” kaveh finishes for you. “you’re right. there’s no need to worry about this, though. i must have been on autopilot creating this.”

“straight to the bin it goes? what a shame. it’s stunning.” there’s a seat right there, yet you insist on being pressed against him, bent over, still too close to his ear. you talk about beauty, and kaveh asks himself if you’ve looked at yourself. “i suppose i don’t understand how geniuses work. you are one of a kind, light of kshahrewar.”

then he is suddenly so aware of your hand having trailed upwards, resting on his nape. as you move, your skin rubs absentmindedly on where the hair fades. he shivers.

he hates that title. he feels like he doesn’t deserve any praise he receives at all. yet when you say it—

“you blush a lot,” you point out. kaveh wants to dig a hole and lay there forever. “it’s cute. your expressiveness is charming.”

“don’t—just say that.” his face is so, so red.

al-haitham finds him alone at the same table that night, unable to focus on anything but his racing thoughts. something is wrong with him, he’s sure. he’ll have to pay tighnari a visit and retrace if he’d picked the wrong mushroom.

al-haitham—and kaveh doesn’t know how he’s managed to figure it out so easily—makes a face that would be the closest thing to a smile. “i like y/n,” al-haitham says, out of the blue.

“what,” kaveh says flatly, coiled up like a cat prepared to pounce.

“smart enough to pull you back down and smart enough to make you listen.”

“it’s—” kaveh wants to say it’s not like that, but he goes silent thinking about it. “fuck off. you wouldn’t get it.”

al-haitham tilts his head to the side. “you’re the one not ‘getting it’.”

thankfully, al-haitham leaves him be. they are still on awkward terms, after all.

“oh,” kaveh says intelligently one morning. oh, no.

tighnari’s ear twitches. “the star of the show is here, finally.”

“everyone,” kaveh starts solemnly as the door slams shut behind him. the wind blows, and kaveh’s hair flutters, looking like he came straight out of those films.

“how has dealing with your recent client been looking?” tighnari asks with a smile. cyno and al-haitham nod because they probably didn’t think of even asking that. it’s why tighnari is kaveh’s favorite.

but he is not here to talk about that.

kaveh slams his briefcase on the table, rattling their glasses. “i’m going to confess.”

al-haitham makes a face. “who are we confessing to?”

“not we, al-haitham. stay out of this,” kaveh says. al-haitham’s expression doesn’t change. “i’m going to confess, and it’s going to be so romantic. no one can say no.”

“i would say no.”

kaveh glares, snatching his glass. “al-haitham, just be quiet. the adults are talking. this isn’t about you.”

“you invited us out here,” al-haitham points out.

cyno tilts his head. “to y/n, right?”

“about time,” tighnari sighs.

“yes, to y/n. and what do you mean about—” kaveh huffs, getting red in the face, flustered. “hey, aren’t you guys going to stop me? tell me this is a bad idea and that i’m going to ruin this meaningful friendship i have with y/n?”

“everyone wants you to confess already,” al-haitham says, as if kaveh is stupid for not realizing that. maybe he is.

cyno hums thoughtfully. “if i stop you, i think y/n will murder me with bare hands.”

“oh,” kaveh says, pleased. whatever that means. “alright, then, thank you.” he downs the glass of water—it was al-haitham’s, most likely, judging by the incensed expression on his face—and grabs his briefcase again.

“where are you going— kaveh, hey, where do you think you’re—” tighnari smacks his hand on the table, yelling after kaveh, who’s already by the door.

kaveh’s confession is messy, quick, and probably not as romantic as he had hoped, stumbling over his words and feeling as brave as an infatuated schoolgirl.

“pinning me against the shelf like this is quite the move, kaveh,” you say, and kaveh snaps back to reality. “why are we hiding?”

“sorry,” he splutters, backing off a bit but not enough to have you far from touching him. “i don’t want—someone could see us.”

“now, why are you afraid of that?” you grin, sly enough to make kaveh comprehend that you know exactly what he’s called you over here for. you do the—the thing again, where you trace shapes on his nape, and he shivers helplessly.

“i like you too much,” kaveh says, his face too red to be passed off as sunburnt.

suddenly, all the confidence he thought he had when he left the tavern dissipated. “you know what i mean. can you—no, will you… ugh, i’m not doing it right—”

you meet his gaze, and you don’t look away, the long silence starting to grow distressing for kaveh.

“kaveh,” you say softly, and that’s when kaveh’s expression crumbles. it could be because of how you said it, carving his name with your mouth so tenderly, but really, it’s because he feels like you wouldn’t look at him the same way ever again.

“yes.”

…wait.

you cup his cheek, pulling him closer to you by his hips. “yes, yes.”

“wait,” kaveh says, “really?”

you bristle, tilting your head down. are you embarrassed? kaveh feels a thrill run down his spine. “yes. about time—we finally did something about the unbearable tension between us. so, if you’re willing to have me…”

“yes, yes,” kaveh says, to all of that. “god, yes.”

embarrassed, you bury your face on his shoulder. kaveh can’t hide how fast his heart is beating when you’re directly on top of it. when you’re in it. “but listen, kaveh, i don’t know if i can stay here in sumeru forever. and i know it will be hard. so if you aren’t—”

kaveh is too happy to think too hard about that.

“no,” kaveh says, “no, i still want to try. please, let’s try.”

“okay,” you breathe, smiling brightly. “kiss me already, will you?”

kaveh prays and prays and thanks their archon that this isn’t fleeting. don’t let it be, not when he has you, and he has already found out your lips meld perfectly with his.

lord sangemah bay commissions him.

in the first few minutes after dori told him that she could care less about what he wanted to do with the place, kaveh didn’t know what to do with himself. he wanted to do everything, but when all of it comes rushing at once, he’s frozen in place instead.

he takes a step in the direction of the house of daena, then another, and another, until he’s sprinting and his heart is racing enough to have a smile crack across his face.

he spends the night in there. he feels crazy; other students can sense madness in his eyes. they all leave him be, as if they know that once they ask, kaveh will never stop talking.

kaveh feels his wrist sore, but he can’t stop. he wouldn’t be able to if he even tried, not when he thinks of a sinking leaf for a roof, windows shaped like petals, and your words—

kaveh pauses, glancing at the clock that has definitely been spinning faster than he remembered.

it’s sunrise. he gets back to work.

“you’re grinning ear-to-ear,” you say, poking kaveh’s cheek. “you’re not telling me something.”

kaveh isn’t. but only on purpose. he takes your hand and uses it to kiss the back of your palm as he blinks up at you, the embodiment of innocence. “what are you talking about? i told you about it. dori commissioned me, and she said that i’ll be in charge of the approval of the design and the construction process…”

while kaveh explains all this, gesturing wildly with his hands, he trails off when realizing you had just been staring at him fondly. his heart skips a beat or two.

“why—why are you just staring like that?”

“it’s hard not to.”

he kisses you square on the mouth, the blueprint of the palace of alcazarzaray hidden beneath his palms, and he thinks he’s never been happier.

(and under the same stars, the withering slithers in, and everything crashes down faster than kaveh could even say please, no.)

a/n art if you’re reading this i didn’t tell you but this is actually a second chance fic cus i remember you saying it’s one of your favorite tropes 🤧 but anyway ty for reading!

#606:GENSHIN #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you

239 notes · View notes

cumulo-stratus · 7 months

Text

Love In The Form Of Paper

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Male!reader

Summary: Spencer tries to teach his best friend how to make an origami heart- but y/n still struggles

Warnings: Possible swearing, lemme know if there's anything else!

Flufftober day 13: Learning a craft

A/N: this idea is my favorite <3 (also sry its kinda short)

The stars twinkled behind the large glass windows of the BAU while spencer reid and Y/n L/n sat together, hunched over Spencers desk.

“ok- try it again- you can do it.”

spencer had been trying to teach Y/n how to make a paper heart for the last 30 minutes- and failing for the last 30 minutes aswell. Each time a fold would be off or a step would be missed and it would end up a creased mess of paper.

“this is like my 20th try spence! i think we just have to accept that it wont happen.”

“16th try-“

“16th try!”

Y/ns tone was mocking when he responded to spencers correction but spencer just laughed- the pair had been friends for so long spencer knew y/n meant no harm. Y/n sighed and grabbed another piece of paper from spencers stash in his desk.

"Ok, so first you make the creases.."

y/ns lips were parted in focus, and his eyes were narrowed on the page in front of him.

"Yup.. make sure crease them well!"

Spencer was leaning over y/ns should- determined to help him get it right.

"I know I know! Stop breathing down my neck Spence!"

Spencer's cheeks warmed and he pulled away from y/n slightly, trying- and failing to move his hands over y/ns to guide him, losing the confidence each time.

"Wait what do I do next-"

Y/n looked up at Spencer helplessly, hoping for help from his best friend. Spencer pulled his desk chair over, plopping down next to y/n to help him.

"Ok so you've folded the halves together, good- and now you fold up the corner pieces- like this"

Spencer took the piece of paper from y/ns hands and took each bottom corner and folded it to meet the crease in the middle. Y/n watched intently- eyes trained on Spencer's hands- definitely not because he found them attractive. No it was because he wanted to really make sure he got it right, that's why. Definitely not anything else.

"Here."

Spencer held out the now evenly folded piece of paper that now resembled a pixel heart. Y/n reached out to retrieve the piece of paper from Spencer's grip and when he reached Spencer's hand their fingers touched, y/ns fingers unintentionally caressed Spencer's-

Causing them both to blush. Though neither acknowledged it.

"Ok- now I flip it and fold the edges like little triangles-"

Spencer nodded his approval at y/ns actions as he flipped it and presented it to him. Although slightly wonky and wrinkled the piece of paper still resembled a heart.

"Y/n you got it! That's all the steps- you did it!"

"I did? I did!"

Spencer picked up y/n and hugged him tight, laughing in excitement. Y/n had always been Spencer's exception when it came to physical touch. When the laughs died out Spencer touched y/n back to the floor. When they both realized what had just happened the pair went red with Spencer stuttering out an apology.

"S-sorry I didn't mean to do that- I got carried away and-and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable-"

Spencer was cut off by y/n when he said

"Spence- it's okay, I didn't mind, I actually kind of enjoyed it..."

"Oh. Oh-"

With his second repetition of the word Spencer's tone changed to a more excited- happy manor.

The End

#bau #criminal minds #spencer reid #bau team #fluff #gay #cute #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #origami #origami heart #flufftober #flufftober prompt #flufftober 2023 #flufftober day 13

126 notes · View notes

azullumi · 9 months

Note

wanderer x rtawahist darshan scholar reader, who really overworks themselves and almost always gets sleepless nights because of their occupation in rtawahist, and so wanderer often finds reader either sleepy (or sleeping) in the akademiya's library, or on some open grounds where they can stargaze not only for their studies, but for themselves, and wanderer js either can't see them so sleepless and forces reader to go to sleep, or he watches the stars with them༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

“the night we met” ; wanderer

details — the first time you met him, it was a night similar to this one, but for him, it was different ; you reminisce with him with the stars as your witness.

includes — wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship, not that much dialogue, word vomit, not proofread ; one-shot

note — i hope u like this one T.T i tried to incorporate every detail in the ask jhahwhaha (i could have done better with this one but i had to finisb it before i go to sleep or else this will rot in my drafts)

“there you are.”

a voice pierced through the silence of the night, the coldness of the wind was harsh against your skin in contrast to the softness of his tone. wanderer’s footsteps soon became louder as he drew closer to you and you slightly turned your head to look at him in the corner of your eye.

you greet him with a small smile, “what are you doing here?”

he scoffs, “a certain someone chose to work instead of sleeping.” you couldn’t contain the chuckle that bubbles out of your throat; you knew that it was you that he was talking about and you couldn’t come up with an argument against it so you choose to remain silent, looking back at the stars instead. a dark blanket covered the whole sky, adorned with fragments that sparkled and twinkled at you, some of it were bright and some were faint–stars. you have dedicated nearly your whole life to studying the existence of it.

“do you remember the first time we met?” you break the silence that covered you both.

you remember the day clearly, you recall when you first laid your eyes on him and how the world seemed to still when your gaze meets his. you could never forget it. the stars and the moon bore witness to the moment two beings who never knew each other became intertwined–if you were to be asked if you believe in fate and how the stars write it for you, you would bring that up.

at least that’s what you knew.

“i do,” he answers, softness lacing his tone.

the first time he met you, it was in the house of daena.

tall built-in bookcases were found on each and every wall that covers the place, filled with books of various thickness. multiple chandeliers in the shape of a flower hang low from the ceiling, illuminating the place with a cool glow, then at the center of the room was a lift. and in one of the tables in the library, there you were, sleeping peacefully with a few stack of books surrounding your head.

in normal occasions, he would have paid no mind to your figure hunched over the wooden surface and this was one of those normal occasions. however, the next day came and he saw you in the same spot, except this time, you were awake. your eyebrows were knitted into one and your lips were forming a scowl. you were deeply focused on something, gaze often shifting around the table as your hands flipped through books.

he learned that you were an rtawahist scholar, passionate about astronomy and astrology to the point that you overwork yourself and sleep in the library nearly everyday. it was like you live in this place from how he always sees you here each day of the week; how would he know that? simple, it’s because he’s also there every time. he couldn’t understand what was going on with himself, why is it that he chooses to come to this place when he’ll only linger for a short amount of time and why is it that his eyes would always seek for you every single time he enters the library. what started as a small curiosity that blooms and spreads across his chest birthed something like this, something like approaching you one day as you sleep without care on top of your papers.

he arrives by your side with ease and you were still sleeping. he took this chance to take a closer look at you, at what you were studying and writing for the past few weeks: the study of stars, the truth in our stars, a collection on astrology, astronomy, the man and the moon, and many more. but honestly, that’s not the thing he came here for. the look on your face was soft, mouth slightly parted and a content sigh slipped past it. your hair was messy, perhaps from all that ruffling you did due to frustration, some loose and all over your features.

but you suddenly groaned and roused up from your sleep and he had to pretend that he was looking at the bookcase on the side, acting like he was looking for something. he hears you scrambling over your desk, panicking and picking up some books in a frantic manner before leaving–he heard you mutter something about stargazing and fields underneath your breath.

“it was also a night like this.” you say with a short laughter in the end, the sound of it tangling with the breeze that caresses your skin. for you, that night was the first you met him and for him, it was the moment that he knew why he kept on coming to that library.

you believed that the stars had aligned for your paths to cross together; but your destiny doesn’t lie in those cosmic dust sprinkled all across the night sky but rather in the man who you knew underneath it.

i’m glad i met you, he wasn’t even able to get the first word out when he held off his tongue and chose to say something else instead. “when was the last time you slept?”

you frown, “what a way to ruin the moment.”

“you wouldn’t say that once you’re crippled and weak in bed just because you don’t take care of yourself more.” he retorts and before you were given a chance to reply, he speaks, “let’s go home, shall we?” he can’t bear seeing you looking like some sort of corpse with the fatigue evident on the lines on your face.

“there’s no need to rush. let’s watch the stars for a little bit longer.” the sky is clear, the night is silent, and despite the frigid wind, you feel warm. the moon shines brightly, casting a tender blue light on your skin, and you look breathtaking as ever in his eyes. how could he say no when you looked like the epitome of forgiveness and softness basking underneath the moon’s light?

“fine.” your expression brightens. “but only just a few minutes.” he adores you, so much so. he’d even give you the sun if you asked him.

yours and his truth—about your first encounter, and perhaps the essence of your being and his—may be different from one another but he knows of the truth that he loves you just as much as you loved the stars; he may not be made of cosmic energy and light but you’ll love him the same and even more.

315 notes · View notes

littlemisssquiggles · 1 year

Note

So squiggles....we saw our boy. But at what cost?

Ahahaaaa not only that Key m’boi. Not only did we get our BOI at a cost but we also got what is the closest thing to a “Rosegarden crumb” outta RWBY V9 in this episode at a cost.

Miles and Kiersi who co-wrote this episode can both kiss my chocolate-coated ass for this scene!

How dare you?!

I mean, Miles did hint once upon a time that Ruby’s bond with Oscar is still being defined.

The fact that this is the second time that Neo has used Oscar’s form to break Ruby is meaningful.

I find it most curious that Neo knows of Oscar’s connection to Ruby. She must’ve seen their little moment at Schnee Manor back in V7 and put 2+2 together.

Jokes aside, this moment, as dark as it was meant something in the grand scheme of things.

Of all the people that Neo could’ve shown Ruby causing the death of, I find it interesting that was Oscar’s.

She could’ve shown her Weiss or Blake or Yang or even Jaune. Heck she could’ve even shown her Penny.

But the fact that it was Oscar means something.

I mean yeah sure, it makes sense for it to be Oscar since Oz was there before and Oscar is Oz’s successor.

But the fact that Neo knows that Oscar is important enough to Ruby to use his form in such a manner to break her. That’s what got me about that scene.

And what’s more interesting that this isn’t the first time Neo used a hurt Oscar to get to Ruby. Remember she used her tortured and battered form while they were fighting in the Void before ended up in the Ever After.

The point I’m trying to make is that this shows that Ruby values Oscar’s life. It highlights why she’s always been so protective of him in past seasons.

Oscar is another special person that Ruby has come to cherish. Someone who means a lot to her that she doesn’t want to lose.

Ruby doesn’t want to fail Oscar.

Oscar means something to Ruby and I feel like once the group returns to Remnant, the way Ruby looks at Oscar following her experience in the Ever After will be much different than before.

Not saying this will mean they’ll become lovers, making Rosegarden canon or anything like that.

I’m just saying, the dynamic between Ruby and Oscar could potentially change after this volume as a result of what Neo did to Ruby in the Ever After.

And let's not forget, we don't know what's going on in the Remnant right now. We don't know how much time has passed in Remnant while RWBYJ have been stuck in the Ever After.

We don't know how much time has passed between Oscar and the others learning that their allies probably died on the other side of the Portal.

Let me put something into perspective:

In the Ever After, Ruby saw Oscar die by her hands.

What if...back on Remnant, after Winter informs everyone of what happened in the Portal, Oscar blames himself for essentially causing Ruby's "death" since technically he was the one with the knowledge of the Staff and should've known better.

What if...Oscar ends up taking responsibility for all that happened to RWBYJ in the Portal and his feelings for Ruby will change as result of thinking he had lost her forever?

So it's a case where both Ruby and Oscar realize how much they mean to each other by believing for a period that had killed the other? If that makes sense?

Who knows? I could be very much wrong about this hunch. But that’s how I see it.

~LMS (2023)

#squiggles answers: rwby #oscar pine #ruby rose #rwby volume 9 spoilers #rwby theories #rwby rosegarden

137 notes · View notes

lover-of-mine · 25 days

Note

Hi Anna 🥰

First, can you believe we got a HUG???? After what? 66 episodes?

Second, I REALLY want to know your thoughts on the expression Eddie made when he realized Tommy was gay. It's the same expression he wore when Shannon asked for a divorce, I think. The "I've been reading this entire thing wrong" face. But why do you think he was so stunned by the fact *Tommy* wasn't straight? I think he was realizing that the way he and Tommy interact differs So Much from the way he and Buck do, but I don't know (running on no sleep again this week, forgive me if none of this makes any sense 😅)

I feel like he wasn't as surprised to learn about Buck because he's doing that "first to understand thing" or at the very least had a hunch about it.

hi baby 🩷🩷 we got a hug, was is over 🙏 and we know Eddie is gonna be all over Buck next episode too, so like wins all around.

So, that expression, that did look like his "you're altering my world view" expression and we have a few options there. There's the funny one, the "was Tommy trying to woo me?" possibility, Tommy did fly him to Vegas for ringside seats, yk? And just having a minute about it lol. But the thing is the episode proved Eddie is deeper in denial than anticipated (rip Eddie fell first essay you will always be true in my heart), but like I said with the whole Eddie is last to see, first to understand, where Buck needs more time, Eddie needs a heavier hit, I don't think just the idea of Buck dating someone would trigger something, he needs to see something or Buck needs to do something, I don't know what rn, I just reblogged a post about the possibility of Buck saying he's in love with him before Eddie is ready to deal with it, and I can totally see that, you can have things ending abruptly with Tommy, Eddie wondering why, Buck being unable to lie to him about it and Eddie being slammed into the realization by something going ridiculously wrong (I will never stop pushing for my Buck drowning in the season finale, so you could do a situation where Buck confesses in some level like saying "Tommy thinks I'm in love with you", something goes wrong, Buck almost dies on him again and he's like oh fuck, and then you have that conflict transfer to season 8 while we wait for them get their shit together) because we all know that "it doesn't change a thing between us" is gonna come back around, same with the Maddie talk, but I also think they need to give the audience some indication that Eddie likes men and/or Buck before Buck can say that. But I just went on a tangent. Tommy. I think Tommy being as similar to Eddie as he was set up to be isn't just about Buck working out the kinks before Eddie, also I can't believe Lou actually said that completely unprompted, but I don't think it ever occurred to Eddie that someone like him could be into men too. Because Eddie spent his whole life doing the right thing in a very twisted way. He got his girlfriend pregnant, so he married her, he joined the army to provide for her and Chris, the show keeps implying he's looking for a mother to Chris, not an actual partner, with these "proper latina women". He loved Shannon, and he thinks he can recreate that. BUT he has a partner, who's not only helping him with life, he's also helping him with Chris, so he checks both boxes. But he's also a man. So he never had a reason to look at it. Until that partner started dating another man, who's extremely similar to him. The pieces for him to be like "oh, that's an option?" are literally all there. He literally said "you and Tommy have it right". Like literally. The seed is planted. The thought is there. At any moment, this man can look at Tommy being that sure of his sexuality and his masculinity and liking a lot of the things he does and also liking Buck, and being like "maybe men are an option" that would lead to an "is Buck an option?" that could give us some nice movement.

I think the question here is who the show wants to reach the "oh am I in love with him" conclusion first. They both have most of the pieces of the puzzle, Buck has more because he has the attraction to men piece, but I maintain that Eddie would be less freaked out about the liking men aspect of loving Buck then Buck would the other way around. It's kinda like we kept writing feeling realization fics where Eddie was totally fine with the idea of wanting to fuck Buck through the mattress but panicked at the idea that he wanted to hold his hand but Buck was the other way around. There's also the problem of what label they are going to give Eddie. Even if most likely it will be just indirectly. I feel like the episode actually even kinda gave us enough to argue that man as demiromantic, but I digress, they doubled down on him loving Shannon, so you kinda can't go the strictly gay route, and he's not stereotypically bi, but obviously who needs stereotypes and it would kinda be nice to see some bi4bi thing that's not stereotypical, and they can go the who cares, he loved Shannon, now he loves Buck route which I think would be the most plausible? Considering they are probably not gonna go there with the demisexuality of it all. And also depends on how attached they want Buck to be to his queer awakening. I think the realization that he's into men and in love with Buck are tied together, but that's a personal opinion, I think his brain would accept the attraction to men and instantly attach that to Buck. But they could very much give Eddie a man to explore things with too. Circling back to the look, I kinda think that was a "I didn't know a guy like Tommy could like men" that's just slightly to the left of the realization of "I didn't know a guy like me could like men" and that could come back to help him get there.

#this got long and rambly #im not sure it makes sense #I'm still processing that coming out scene lpakspskapska #911 #911 spoilers #i really need a tag for asks #911 speculation #maggie 💜

13 notes · View notes

slayonehundredninetytwo · 7 months

Note

In the event you get a free moment for a mini fic,

Poor Channie gets food poisoning from some takeout he ordered and spends an evening hunched over a bucket, nauseous and burpy. Every now and then a bit of sick comes up his throat, but always goes back down which makes him feel sicker.

Maybe Felix stays with him, rubs his back, play with his curly hair, and talks to him in English to keep him calm when his nausea gets too much. Maybe Minho checks in every so often to see if he's been sick or is still queasy.

sorry this took so long, i didn’t have free moment for a mini fic 😅 it also kinda was more like a full length one anyway. Suprise!

~Spicing it Up~

Yet another late night spent working on music for the latest comeback, it was all Chan had grown to know. Which meant when his stomach growled at him angrily for food, he pulled out his phone and opened his door dash and clicked the place he usually gets from. But wait. He had that last night? Why not spice it up and try something new! He clicked off that restaurant and searched for something else. He found a small local takeout place and placed his order, before getting back to work.

Sometimes, spicing up your usual door dash is not the best idea, which Chan soon learned late that night once he returned to his dorm. It was maybe 1 AM, earlier than he usually would get home, but tonight he felt strangely uncomfortable after dinner in his office, and decided he could head home and finish up at the dorm. By the time he got there, he felt severely worse. His stomach was swirling annd full, he felt awful. He probably had over done it with the food, although he didn’t remember eating all that much of it. Must of just been extra filling. When he opened the door to the apartment, he was surprised to see Minho and Felix sitting on the couch.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Well we were watching a movie with Jisung.” Minho said sounding a little annoyed.

“But he got tired and went to bed, so we’re finishing up the movie ourselves before we head home to our place.” Felix cut in, being the ball of sunshine he is, there was not a hint of annoyance in his voice, in contrast to Minho.

“Mind if I join? I was gonna do so work but i’m not feeling it tonight and you guys (A/N- the urge to put y’all😭) are here anyway.”

“Of course we don’t mind!” Minho said, patting the cushion next to him.

Chan melted into the couch, exhausted.

“You okay Chris?” Felix said to him, noticing how he curled in on himself.

“Yeah. My stomach hurts a bit.” He responded, wrapping his arm around his stomach.

“Have you eaten?” Felix said, concerned.

“Yes. I think that’s the problem.”

Minho was trying to translate the English, but eventually gave up and watched the movie.

“Did you eat too much? What did you eat?” Felix asked, seemingly turning on his big brother mode that he would use if Olivia wasn’t feeling well, even though he is younger than Chan.

“I tried a new place tonight. I don’t remember eating a lot of it, but I must have.”

“Or maybe the new place simply isn’t agreeing with you.”

“I guess.”

They sat and watched the movie in silence for a while, until the silence was finally broken by Chan, still speaking in English, much to Minho’s annoyance since he was experiencing some FOMO from barely understanding the conversation. Couldn’t they just speak Korean for his sake.

“I’m gonna vomit.”

Vomit… what does that mean again? He’s gonna what? Minho couldn’t quite recall. Minho figured it was not good, seeing Felix’s eyes widen as he hurriedly stood up and rushed to get something as Chan put his head between his knees. Minho put two and two together that his hyung was nauseous, and placed a hand on Chan’s back, just as Felix returned with a bucket.

“It going to be be a-okay, Chan. Don’t worry. It will be over before you know it.” Felix stated reassuringly as he gave Chan the bucket. Felix instructed Chan to sit up, just as he ducked his head into the bucket with a retch. Nothing. He just hung there over the bucket salivating into the bucket as he stared at the bottom. The next retch came with some liquid but it didn’t want to come all the way up. It burned his throat and made him gag more, still unproductively. Minho stood to get him some water and things, as Felix quietly comforted him, his accent reminded him of home which helped him feel a little less miserable as the nausea was so very awful.

It took almost an hour for anything to really come up. And once it did, it brought up everything Chan had in him. It tore through him painfully, but once it was done, it was a huge relief. He could finally breathe. The nausea was becoming insufferable, he was just glad it was over, for now atleast.

“You did good, Chan” Minho said, in English, as he handed him the water bottle.

🫶

#skz sickfic #stray kids sickfic #skz emeto #kpop sickfic #mini sickfic #mini sickfic(?)

29 notes · View notes

skzoologist · 5 months

Note

I got another idea for a fic :]]

So one of the members (you choose who) are struggling. It could be they aren't feeling so good about themselves, or they are struggling with a dance move or anything that's just making them feel down they obvi try to hide that cuz they don't want the others to worry but Bae notices the small change in their behavior and comforts them :]]

(hope you don't mind me coming here randomly with fic ideas😅)

-🐿️

word count: ~1.7-1.8k

warnings: negative thinking, self-deprecative thoughts

genre: hurt/comfort

a/n: Hey-ho 🐿️ anon, hope you don't mind that I wrote this request of yours now, and not the other two you sent in earlier than this. I just think we all need a hug, so I wrote this one instead. Love your ideas, as always, and I hope you enjoy reading this!

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Bae woke up with a strange feeling in his chest. It gnawed away at his flesh and ribs, desperate to get out and do something. Albeit what, he did not know.

But it was concerning.

It had nothing to do with himself, Bae was sure about it. He felt well-rested -as rested as you could get with their schedules-, his body was in a fine condition. Even his unruly hair was in an acceptable condition in the morning, something that was rare. It just confused him.

If it wasn’t about his own condition, then what was his body warning him about, endlessly ringing that alarm bell in his head?

With furrowed eyebrows, he got ready for the day, fully clothed in some loose clothing, the one he always wore to dance practice. He wanted to go over some older choreos, lest his body forget them, something that would be unacceptable.

No one else was up when Bae sneaked out of his room, an unsurprising fact.

Much like his dear leader, he was a workaholic, leaving himself with the bare minimum of sleep in exchange for more work. Which was why he was usually the first one to check on Chan if he wasn’t in his bed -or god forbid, the couch in the dorm’s living room-, finding the man in his studio with dark circles and a hunched back, fatigue clinging to him desperately. It would lead to the younger patiently waiting there in silence, just until his hyung’s eyes finally closed. Even with Chan’s well-built form, Bae didn’t have a lot of problems moving him over to the couch, leaving only after a blanket was draped over the exhausted man.

But that day Chan was in his bed, thankfully, allowing Bae to go straight to their usual practice room, where he could let the music take over and move his body to its own whims, only for the others to find him still dancing, hours later. Sweat dripped from him in translucent rivers, long locks of hair sticking uncomfortably to heated skin. His chest heaved up and down, the lack of air only registering in his mind then.

Danceracha didn’t hesitate to start berating him, talking his ear off about resting more while his water bottle was pushed into his hands roughly. He let them talk without saying anything, hungrily drinking the clear liquid from the bottle in his grasp.

Bae’d already done this dance of theirs hundreds of times, the others always finding him working and practising with little to no rest in that same room, nearly every morning. He’d learned that letting them scold him was the best route to take, the one where their worries for him took on the smallest possible form.

“Hyung, you really gotta rest more, that’s also part of a healthy lifestyle!” - Felix angrily told him, nose slightly scrunched up in frustration. “Felix, you know that he doesn’t listen, just let it go.” - Minho replied in Bae’s stead, who just stood there silently. “But then what should we do?!” “Take away his access to the room.” “Minho hyung, I could kiss you.” “Please don’t.”

The two chased after each other, Felix offended at the disgusted face Minho made at his comment. There was a playfulness in all of it, slightly easing that gnawing sensation in Bae’s chest.

Yet, the moment he looked over at the only other silent person in the room, it strengthened, making his brows slightly furrow and lips dip down.

Hyunjin looked different. Not in his appearance, no, there was nothing wrong or off about that. Those long, dark strands were pulled back in that oh so familiar hairstyle, his usual clothes loose on his skin. No, it was the way his lips were in a small, permanent downwards arch, eyes duller than usual, as if the moon was blocking out the sun’s radiant shine.

It didn’t sit well with Bae.

In a blink it was gone, a smile in its place as Hyunjin waved at the taller member, playfully looking at him with a questioning hum. It felt as if it was all a hallucination, the unavoidable consequences of his own relentless dancing. The more he looked, the more he convinced himself of that.

Hyunjin seemed fine.

Soon the four of them started dancing, working on their new choreography. It went much like it usually did, everyone throwing in their ideas for certain parts and beats in the music, the others voicing their opinion about it. Minho called the final shots, being the one with the most knowledge in the area. None of them had any problems with it, it only felt natural.

Once they had it mostly done, it was time to rehearse a different choreography for their future tour, making small adjustments here and there. Their dynamic was impeccable, everyone stayed in their own bubble and performed the moves perfectly.

And yet, yet Bae couldn’t help but frequently glance at Hyunjin through the floor-to-ceiling mirror that stood unshakeable in front of them. It took him several repeats of the song, but he caught more and more small things that were off in the way Hyunjin moved and behaved. A small tremble of an arm, a misplaced foot by only a few inches, that same downturned smile appearing for the split of a second.

Nobody else seemed to have noticed, based on their lack of reaction, only Bae.

The moment Minho announced that they were done and the two youngest collapsed onto the floor, Bae didn’t hesitate to throw a look at the older’s way. At his slight head tilt and concerned eyes, Bae subtly pointed at Hyunjin and the door, making sure the other two weren’t looking. Understanding flashed through those dark eyes, a slight nod letting the otter know about it.

“Huh? Bae hyung and Jinnie hyung, aren’t you two coming?” - Felix asked, confused as he was gently being ushered out by Minho. “No, we’ll go later. See you, Lixie, Lino hyung.” - Bae answered in a lighthearted tone, hoping it would ease the younger’s concerns and maybe even erase them.

The aussie only mumbled an ‘Oh, okay’ and animatedly waved, leaving the room with only one of his hyungs. It left just the two artists there, alone, one still laying on the ground, the other sitting down next to him quietly.

It was silent.

Bae didn’t need to say anything, he knew Hyunjin realised he’d failed to hide something from him. So, he patiently waited there, until the boy would open up to him at his own pace. Only a phone was in Bae’s hands, the chat with Hyunjin’s manager open.

It didn’t matter what Hyunjin had scheduled for the rest of the day, Bae would take on the consequences for cancelling and rescheduling them. Knowing this fully well, the manager didn’t argue at all and just did as he was asked. Not wanting to keep him out of the loop, Bae sent a quick text to Chan as well, knowing how the man could get when it came to his members and their wellbeing.

“Hyung, am I not good enough?” - Hyunjin’s voice was quiet, heartbreakingly so.

Bae instantly locked and pocketed his phone, his attention solely on his younger member and the way his voice trembled. Gently, the older took the hand that laid closer to him and grasped it, caressing the skin with his thumb. Not a sound escaped him, knowing fully well that it wasn’t the end of what Hyunjin wanted to say.

“It’s just, am I worthless? Is my dancing not good or precise enough? Is my voice too nasally and bad? Am I ugly? Is all my work really not enough? All I keep seeing online are people saying how I’m not dancing as well as I used to, how I should’ve gotten less lines and let someone else, like Seungminnie, sing more, and just how I used to look better like this and that, or how others look better than me. Should I even be here, in this group? Do I even deserve it at this point?”

By the end, Hyunjin’s voice completely broke, just like the dam that held his tears back. The crystal droplets endlessly fell from his eyes, running over the expanse of pale skin and carving a way for themselves down to the floor. Quiet sounds escaped his throat and through his fingers, a hand placed there, although useless in muffling any voice. The other hand that was held moved away from its place, its new assignment to hide those sorrowful depths and block out anyone from witnessing them, from letting the heartbroken boy acknowledge the fact that someone was seeing his broken and curled up form.

As gently as he could, Bae scooted over and took the trembling boy in his hold, letting him weep into his clothes and skin. A hand was carding through those dark locks soothingly in an unheard rhythm, the other holding onto as many pieces as it could, mending them together. A low hum left his throat, one that made Hyunjin move into the crook of his neck, hiding from the world and his gaze.

“You’re more than enough, Jinnie. You are beautiful and handsome, pulling off looks others couldn’t even dare to think about. Your voice is soft, taking anyone who listens to it into a cosy headspace, as if they were bundled up in front of the fireplace amidst the harsh weather of winter. The dance style you have is unique, your moves captivating and flowing together perfectly. You’re talented and hardworking, someone who undeniably earned their place in this band and industry. Besides, we all love you too much to ever let you go, you’re stuck with us for a lifetime.” - Bae’s voice was low and quiet, as if the winds themselves learned how to whisper for Hyunjin’s sake.

The sobbing decreased with every sentence that left the older’s lips, only quiet sniffing left behind in their wake. A few trembles remained, but the boy was relaxed in the other’s arms, comfortably laying there, sheltered from the grim world.

“I love you. I’ll tell you again and again, no matter how many times I need to.” - the words felt immovable, firmly settling onto Hyunjin’s form, along with the small kiss that Bae left on the crown of his head.

They sat there for a while, none of them knowing, nor caring how much time had passed. Both were content in their position, lazily drinking in the other’s presence as only soft humming could be heard in the peaceful silence.

Everything would be fine.

38 notes · View notes

socialoutsiderwritings · 10 months

Text

Always, Only. You 30.2

Talia had taken Y/N in to her pack after your parents and their pack were brutally murdered. For years she trained and learned under Talia alongside Derek , Laura and Cora. One night Talia tells you along with Derek that you two have to imprint on each other , to become each other’s mates. Your connection to Derek has always been stronger than his to you. So after the fire it killed you to be away from him , but you had to do it for your own survival. 7 years after the fact , you return home. Back to Beacon Hills. But the Derek you return to is not the same Derek you know. Will Y/N ever get Derek to accept the fact they are meant to be together?

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader.

TW: Mentions of pregnancy.

A/N: As per the trigger warning, this chapter will only mention pregnancy/motherhood. Don't be alarmed, reader will not be getting pregnant in this series. I know not everyone is in to that.

Derek's Loft

Derek sat hunched forward, elbows resting on his knees and his phone in a near death grip in his hands. Since the night you left unexpectedly, he's had this strange feeling in his chest. But he didn't want to accept it. There was no way he could.

Derek lifted his head up at the sound of footsteps and saw Cora descending the spiral staircase. She made eye contact with Derek, and by the look on his face and the phone in his hands she knew it had something to do with you.

She didn’t say anything to him, just smiled awkwardly. She was afraid if he started a conversation about you, somehow she’d unintentionally slip if she tried lying. She was never good at lying.

He watched her as she grabbed her jacket from the couch. "Are you going somewhere?" He asked suddenly.

"Yeah." She nodded, avoiding Derek’s gaze. "Isaac, Erica and I are going to the movies." Surprisingly her heart remained calm as she delivered her line. Erica had bought the tickets to a random movie in case he didn't believe her; which she grabbed from the jacket pocket and waved to Derek.

"I don’t know, Cora.” Derek said uncertain. “It’s not safe for you out there.”

Cora rolled her eyes. “I’m already marked. It’s been a couple nights and they haven’t come back here. I won’t be alone either.”

“We don’t know who the Nogitsune is. Where it is or what it even wants. You’re not going.” He stood up from his spot.

“You can’t keep me here, Derek. I feel like…” she inhaled a breath, worried about the effect her words would have on her brother, “a caged animal.” She finished. She looked to Derek this time, an apologetic expression on her face but also the anger in her eyes seemed she wasn’t too sorry for her words.

Derek remained stoic. He folded his arms across his chest, “I’m sorry you feel that way, Cora.” He said with no remorse. “But I’m not keeping you prisoner here, you’re allowed to leave whenever and wherever you want,” he approached her as he spoke until he was close, “except at night.”

“Fine.” She huffed. “I’ll be back before night fall.” She turned on her heel to leave, only to be stopped by Derek again.

“Forgetting something?”

She looked over her shoulder at him. He was holding her phone up in his hand. “I need you to be able to reach me in case something happens.”

Cora snatched her phone from him. “We’re just going to the movies.”

“Right,” he said as he dug into the back pocket of his jeans. He counted the cash he had in his wallet and held it out for his sister, “here. Have fun.” He smiled.

Cora eyes her brother quizzically before grabbing the money from his hand and saying good bye.

“You know, she’s lying to you.” Peter chimed.

Derek exhaled a breath through his nose at the first note of his uncle’s voice, but his gaze remained on the loft door, where Cora had just left. “I know. That’s why I had her take her phone. I can track her.”

“You’re not going to follow her?” Peter could be heard moving from his spot somewhere behind Derek. “You are learning something.” He was right beside Derek now.

“I didn’t say that.” Derek replied now turning to look at his uncle. “I’ll track her and see where she’s stopped. Then I’ll go.”

“You never learn.” Peter rolled his eyes and shook his head simultaneously as he turned and made his way back to where he was previously.

“You heard Araya. They’re looking for her. She had two betas with her. What if she’s building a pack to take on the hunters? More people are just going to get hurt.”

“Come on, Derek.” Peter groaned. He plopped down on the sofa, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “She’s not like that. Whatever she’s doing with those betas have nothing to do with the hunters.”

Derek scrunched his brows. What his uncle said rang true. He knows you don’t care about power, never have. And he’s seen how you were with the other betas, you’d do anything to protect them even if it meant distancing yourself. So why was the fact that you had two other betas with you causing him so much unrest? Anger even?

“You think you know her so well." Derek scoffed. "You’re not worried so long as you get to use her for whatever you need from my mom’s claws.”

Peter looked at his nephew with irritated disbelief.

“I’m right.” Derek grumbled as he turned away from his uncle. “That’s why you don’t leave my loft, in case she comes back.”

“Wrong.” Peter could be heard getting up from his spot. “I come here to check on you guys. Granted you both hate me and don’t trust me,” he raised his hands, “you are still the only family I have left. Including her." A beat.

“Word of advice, nephew. If a girl gives you the best night of your life, and then disappears on you, that means it’s over.”

Derek furrowed his brows in confusion. “Over? What do you mean over?” He scoffed, turning to face his uncle.

Peter was already walking towards his nephew, “you’re screwed.” He patted Derek’s shoulder as he walked passed Derek.

Derek flinched at his uncle’s words. He turned again in his uncle’s direction but Peter was already out the loft door.

—————————— 🐾——————————

Derek was laying across from you, facing you. He had a hand on your cheek, his thumb softly caressing your skin as he looked into your eyes lovingly.

You were both underneath his silk blue covers, and by the light peeking through the thin fabric, it was morning.

“We should get up.” You whispered to him.

“No,” he whispered back, “let’s stay here.” He scooted closer as he snuggled his face into your neck.

“Derek.” You giggled. “It’s daytime. We can’t stay in bed all day.”

“Who says we can’t. Hmm?” He pressed a few kisses to your neck.

“What about the kids?”

"School." He muttered.

You sighed in content, wrapping your arms around him as he moved to position himself in between your legs and hover over you. He lifted your shirt over your breasts and kissed down your torso. In a strange event, the covers were pulled off of you, starling you.

You were shocked to notice you weren't neither in the penthouse or the loft. But the old Hale house; before it was burned up in flames.

"Stop." you pushed Derek away and wiggled into a sitting up position. "What are we doing here?"

"What do you mean?" Derek sat up as well. "We bought the place? And rebuilt it. For us." He explained.

Somehow that was enough for you. You smiled at him and grabbed him by the back of his neck to pull him closer to you. Derek smiled as he allowed himself to be controlled and placed his hand son your hips. He closed his eyes, ready to plant his lips on yours.

You slowly closed your eyes, and before your lips could meet, a terrifying banging came from the bedroom door. Derek whipped his head towards the direction. You slowly brought one of your legs over the side of the bed, ready to stand on your feet.

Derek noticed and was quick to get up off the bed first. "Wait." He stopped you. "It was just the wind."

"The wind?" You questioned. You paused a moment now. Something did not seem right. "No," you stood away from the bed now, "I think theres someone out there."

"Baby," Derek grabbed your hands, "no one. It's just you and me." He kissed you again, turning you to lay you back down on the bed. You were enjoying yourself until the banging on the door returned.

"What the hell." You pushed Derek off of you again. And this time instead of waiting for it again you stormed towards the bedroom door.

Derek grabbed your wrist. "Stop. Don't go out there." He warned.

The banging returned, accompanied by screaming and smoke emitting from the cracks of the door.

"What?"

Derek tugged you back. "We have to leave." He tugged again, "we'll die if we try to save them."

You could make out Cora and Isaac's voice coming from the other side of the door. Along with the others.

"Sweetheart," Derek tugged again.

'No." You tugged back. "We can save them, Derek."

"If we save them," he faces you, "what happens to them?"

You stared at him quizzically. It was then when a baby's cry erupted from behind him. You looked over his shoulder, shocked. There was another door behind him, surely where the cries were coming from.

"We can't save them. But we can save ourselves and start over. Just like you want."

Behind you, the kids continued to scream your name, begging for your help. And behind Derek the baby's cry only grew louder.

You stared Derek in the eyes, "how do you know thats what I want?" You asked him. "How do I know thats what you want?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, almost as if he were getting angry. "This is what you wanted."

"No," you shook your head. "I dont think I want that. Not like this." You snatched your hand out of Derek's grasp. You turned on your heel and began walking towards the door where the kids screamed out for your help.

Your heart was racing in your chest. You were terrified. Of what? You weren't sure yet. But whatever was happening here, it was wrong.

Derek yelled out your name loudly. But you ignored him, gripping the handle of the door, fighting through the burning sensation, and turning the knob to open the door.

*********

You gasped for air, as you lunged forward in a coughing fit. There was something lodged in your throat and you used all the force in your chest to get it out.

You wheezed, feeling some kind of hard object slowly creepy up your throat. You forced your mouth open wider as you dug with your index finger and thumb for the object.

You coughed, removing the object from your throat. You examine the foreign object in between your fingers with disgust. It was dead, for sure.

—————————— 🐾——————————

"Gross." Isaac mused as he stared at the dead fly in the closed mason jar. "You swallowed that?" He asked you.

"If I did, I don't remember." You rolled your eyes. "I was having a pretty weird dream and....I was choking on this when I woke up. I want to know if this has anything to do with the nogitsune."

The betas stared at each other worriedly.

"What?"

Erica spoke up this time, "do you think...it was Stiles?"

"I don't know. I can't smell anything." you admitted. "I couldn't even hear you three coming."

Cora then scooted forward and grabbed the jar from your hands.

"We'll take this to him. But first you have to tell me whats going on between you and Derek. I dont like lying to him."

"I don't mind lying to him." Isaac shrugged.

Erica rolled her eyes, and the two girls both smacked his arms.

"What?" Isaac rubbed his arms.

"I know. After this, you don't have to come see me anymore if you don't want. I won't make you choose between me and Derek."

"But--,"

"I don't get it," Isaac interrupted, "I thought you and the animal doctor were friends. Why are you asking us to take this to him?"

"It's better you don't know." You tell him. "He knows. And I know he will help to make up for it." You sat up and inhaled a deep breath. "I also have one more favor to ask of you guys."

You knocked on Brett's bedroom door. He cracked open the door, pulling out an earbud. You stared him up and down, nonchalantly, "put a shirt on and come out to the den. And bring your sister."

Brett and Lori shortly appeared in the den, staring at the other three curiously.

"Brett, Lori," you pointed, "meet Cora, Erica and Isaac. Isaac, Cora, Erica, meet Brett and Lori." you introduced.

They only stared at each other and lastly at you. You could feel the judgement behind their stares and waved your hands in the air. "anyway," you began, "you two, will be going with them to meet an old acquaintance. Tell him you're looking for Satomi and he'll help you find her."

"What?" Brett asked. "You're kicking us out?"

"No?'' You folded your arms, now feeling awkward at the tension you were under. Cora stared at Brett angrily. "I'm just helping you. I know you want to go home and I don't know where to start to help you get there. He does."

"Right." He scoffed.

Cora got up on her feet, "what the hell is your problem?" she stormed up to him.

"What the hell is yours?" He retorted, puffing his chest out and staring down at her. Lori grabbed his arms pulling him back, while Erica grabbed Cora.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Stop." You told them. "Go or don't." You told Brett. "But just know, helping you find Satomi is at the bottom of my to do list right now. Can you deal with that?"

He clenched his jaw, then looked down at his sister. He thought a moment before nodding.

"Great." You clapped your hands together. "Let's get used to each other, huh." You forced a smiled at the young teens.

Isaac, Brett and Cora scoffed and turned away from each other. Erica and Lori were the only two who approached each other.

"This is gonna be ok." You told yourself.

#derek hale #derek hale teen wolf #derek hale x reader #derek hale x reader imagine #derek hale x reader fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fan fiction #teen wolf fandom

40 notes · View notes

thywheelof-fate · 6 months

Text

swears with an upraised hand (this is not enough)

swears with an upright hand (this is not enough) on ao3

Pairing: Dark Urge/Enver Gortash, Dark Urge/Astarion (background)

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Rough Sex, Knifeplay (Gauntlets), Bloodplay, Light BDSM, Biting, Office Sex

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

If you’re so determined to learn about your past, why don’t we make another deal? “What do you want?” Lennox arched an eyebrow. “You already have my soul. Probably.” Oh, if only. My proposal: I show you a snippet, and all you have to do is keep your mouth shut about it. I’ll even sweeten the deal and show you something you can get back after all this nonsense. It’s a deal that appears to be tilted heavily in Lennox’s favor, which made it all the more suspicious. “I’m guessing this won’t be a useful memory at all.” Usefulness is subjective. I think you might enjoy it. But perhaps you’d rather stew in ignorance.

Lennox slowly learns about what being a warlock means and the creature who holds the other end of his pact. An offer to experience one of his forgotten memories gives him a chance to learn about the person he was outside of killing. But who was Enver, and why was Lennox hooking up with him in his office?

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

This is the promised rewrite and extension of my fic of the same name, which can be read here

It still remains a piece focused on the fact that Lennox is a warlock, but fleshes out his relationship with some of the other companions and his patron more. I also wanted to explore Durgetash in a slightly meta way by having Lennox play voyeur to his own memories- who does he assume Enver is to him, when the context of their history is stripped away, but their own sort of affection remains?

I'm a bit out of practice of writing smut, so the Prodigal Son series has been an unintentional opprotunity to flex that muscle, haha. I'll probably alternate between pre-canon and canon timeline works, so my next project is aiming to have Durgetash exploring each other's bodies as Chosen of Bane and Bhaal.

There are little things I want to write about my fics, but I don't know if meta analysis on my own fanfiction is a bit too self-indulgent. Vague textposts I make is probably me hunching over my keyboard and mumbling about the motifs of it all.

Comments/kudos/asks are always welcome :)

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

#oc: lennox amafete #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #the dark urge #enver gortash #the dark urge x enver gortash #durgetash #fanfic

19 notes · View notes

gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot · 8 months

Text

Paulatim sed Firmiter (Slowly but surely) - Saturday morning

Taglist: @glitterypirateduck @jamesrifftapes @letsreadallday

No warnings except for awkward fluff

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Hereford Police Station

10 am

30 bars.

1.8 meters wide.

3 meters in length.

Lost count of the tiles at seventy.

Lost her mind at about 3 am.

Didn’t regret a damned thing.

Sitting upright on the bench, the back of her head resting against the wall, Sergeant Christine Vega’s blue-gray eyes were closed, but she wasn’t sleeping. How could she, when she could listen to Soap’s loud snoring from the next holding cell. At least, that had kept the nightmares at bay.

They had been chatting for hours, ignoring the feeble warnings from the police officer on night duty, until Johnny fell asleep. If she could have strangled him, she might have. How in the Earth could he fall asleep whenever, wherever, however, was a mistery that she had never been able to unravel. Infuriating bastard.

She couldn’t hear anything coming from Maynard’s cell, or the other asshole whose name she never learned, but sometimes she could hear them changing positions in their cots, and the piece of furniture creaking with their weight.

For her part, she hadn’t moved in hours, trying to shake off her anger. The breathing routine that Dr. Heather had insisted on teaching her had done little to stop her blood boiling with rage, even after being locked up. Surprisingly enough, the holding cells had been all empty, so the four of them had the luxury of being on their own, in their own private cells.

The moment Captain Price decided to go pick them up from the police station was one she did not want to experience. Just imagining Price’s disappointed gaze was enough to make her heart hurt. The mere thought of letting him down was…

‘‘Time to go!’’ The officer on morning duty called out even before opening the doors to the holding cell wing. He sounded anxious, maybe even scared, and her hunch was confirmed when the lanky, still young police officer started fumbling with the keys next to Soap’s cell, the closest to the door. ‘‘Only MacTavish and Vega, though. Maynard and Allen are staying for now’’

Allen. She’d remember that.

‘‘Why the fuck are we staying? Why are they leaving?’’ Maynard’s voice sounded a bit nasal, which was expected, as Riot was quite sure she had broken his nose. She couldn’t help but grin while listening to him. She also heard Soap groaning while rising to his feet, awake at last.

‘‘They are leaving because their superior officer came to pick them up and yours hasn’t!’’ The officer opened Soap’s cell and then walked to Riot’s cell door to open it. Johnny appeared next to him, sporting a split lip, a big bruise on one of his cheekbones and a black eye, but the same mischievous grin as always.

‘‘Who do you think came for us, lassie? I sure thought the Cap would leave us here til Monday’’

Riot stood up from the cot, tired and sore, and walked out of the cell when the officer finished opening the door. None of them bothered to look at the other two cells while they moved towards the door that separated the holding cells from the offices.

‘‘We’ll be scrubbing toilets anyway, Johnny, so who cares?’’

The officer opened the door and guided them to the main hall, but stopped right before.

‘‘I have to ask… before we get out there’’ The lanky police officer said, with his hand on the door handle, and looking at them both with concern. And fear. ‘‘Are you really sure you want to leave with him? He’s fucking scary, mate’’

Oh my God

She smiled. She couldn’t help it, and even her eyes lit up, and Soap grinned when he noticed.

‘‘He doesn’t bite’’ Riot rolled her eyes, still smiling, and Soap plainly laughed.

‘‘Whatever you say, miss, but I’d piss myself if I found him in a dark alley at night’’ The officer finally opened the door, only to squeal when he found the massive frame of Lieutenant Riley right there.

Ghost was dressed with his usual cammo cargo trousers, combat boots and one of his enormous, plain black hoodies. His dark brown eyes stared at them from beneath the simple black balaclava, unreadable, stoic as always, with his arms crossed over his broad chest. He said nothing, but was checking the Sergeants in search for serious injuries.

Soap had a black eye and a split lip, and there was a bruise forming on one of his cheekbones, but looked as cheery as ever, brushing his mohawk back and allowing him to see how bruised his knuckles were. Ghost’s eyes narrowed when Riot came into his view, and a cold fury ran through his veins at seeing her face. Rationally speaking, it wasn’t bad; her lip was split as well, there was a bruise on her forehead, and a purple bruise was next to one of her eyes, another on her jaw. Her knuckles were red and bruised too.

‘‘Who did that’’ It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

‘‘It’s not that bad’’ Riot shrugged, not even trying to hide her smile, the very same smile that made him almost swerve into a tree in Belarus. The very same smile that kept him awake, that made him feel like a bloody lovestruck schoolboy. She looked happy to see him, and that made him feel… things. But right now, his rage was more prevalent.

‘‘Who did that’’ Ghost insisted, his dry, stern tone indicating that he would not move an inch from where he was standing until he got an answer that satisfied him.

‘‘T’was Maynard’’ Soap was more than ready to leave the police station, so he answered swiftly, walking to the main door. ‘‘Bloody eejit tried to grab her by the throat and she headbutted him. Broke his nose alright, stupid dumbfuck. Called her scarface, can you imagine?’’

Stoic as he looked, Ghost’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed even more, the fury increasing inside of him. Only the fact that they were inside a police station, with a police officer looking at them, stopped him from going inside to...

‘‘Can we leave?’’ Riot asked tiredly, still looking up at him. It still took a couple of seconds for Ghost to curtly nod, seemingly appeased by her tone… at least for the moment. His cold glare turned to the police officer, who straightened up without realizing it.

‘‘Do I have to sign anything else?’’

‘‘You’re all set, sir. Nobody has pressed charges.’’ The officer looked more than ready to get them out of his station as soon as possible, increasingly nervous by the enormous behemoth looming in his hall ominously.

Ghost simply nodded, arms still crossed, and tilted his head towards the exit. Soap was already there and opened the door, waiting for Riot to be the first to step outside before doing the same, and Ghost followed him, allowing the door to close by itself behind them. The police officer breathed at last.

Parked right outside was one of the base’s jeeps, and Soap gladly climbed into the backseat, yawning obnoxiously as if he hadn’t been sleeping for the last three hours, keeping the others awake. Riot slid in the passenger seat while Ghost sat behind the wheel, the three of them in silence while the Lieutenant turned the engine on.

They kept the silence for a bit, while Ghost drove calmly through the streets of Hereford. From the backseat, lying as best he could, Soap started whining.

‘‘Lt, can we stop for coffee? Pretty please? We haven’t had anything to eat or drink since last night…’’

Riot rolled her eyes, looking out the window with the back of her head resting on the headrest, but said nothing. Ghost sighed.

‘‘Are you going to whine all the way to the base?’’

‘‘Will that make you stop? Because I absolutely can whine, and I can throw in a full blown tantrum if needed’’

‘‘That won’t be necessary’’ Ghost grunted, but after another five minutes of driving he carefully parked next to a coffee shop, and turned the engine off. ‘‘Go’’

‘‘You want anything, Lt? Chris?’’ Soap yawned again, opening the back door, but waited for their answers before stepping out. Riot looked at him through the rear-view window, tired.

‘‘Macchiato… No, wait. Cocoa. Please.’’

‘‘I knew it!’’ Johnny laughed, and then looked at Ghost, who considered it for a moment, and then shrugged.

‘‘Black coffee’’ The Lieutenant started to take his wallet out of his pocket, but Soap closed the back door hastily.

‘‘My treat!’’ Then, he jogged towards the coffee shop, in an infuriatingly good mood for someone that had spent the entire night in custody. Once he disappeared inside, Christine sighed and turned her head towards Simon, to find him already staring at her.

She leaned back in the seat, trying to get more comfortable and face him, while he stayed in the same position, his hands still on the steering wheel. They stared at each other in silence. After what felt like forever, but had been only seconds, Christine sighed again, frowning.

‘‘Three days tops’’

Simon chuckled softly, amused against his will. Here she was, after a whole week of shenanigans, with signals of a fight on her face and knuckles, after spending the night in a holding cell… and telling him off for being late.

‘‘Things went south. Had to stay longer’’ He answered, short as always, but his tone was considerably softer than before. ‘‘It seems you were having fun though’’

‘‘You call this fun?’’ She laughed, bitterly, her blue-gray eyes still fixed on his, and it dawned on him. She had been worried. For him.

That revelation made him feel… things. Good things. Things that made his chest feel warm, and his throat run dry, and his hands ache to reach out and brush her hair back. To feel her soft, pale skin under his hand again, to feel she was there. Next to him. But his hands stayed on the steering wheel, gripping it tighter to fight the urge.

It was almost… painful. The need. The want. The greed.

‘‘I tried to finish as quickly as I could’’ I wanted to be back earlier.

‘‘I… It would have been better if you had been here’’ I missed you

Silence fell on them again, still staring at each other, except for a brief moment in which Simon checked the inside of the coffee shop through the windows to confirm Soap was still waiting inside. Then, his brown eyes were back on hers, which hadn’t moved from him yet.

It was almost… painful. The way she wanted desperately to reach out and touch him, even if it was just to brush his arm with the pads of her fingers. To feel he was there. Alive. Next to her. Warm, and strong, and reliable.

It was also painful to listen to the voice in her head repeating, over and over again. You don’t deserve it. Who would want a marked bitch like you. You don’t deserve it.

Her left hand moved from her lap slowly, falling down the side of her thigh to rest on the side of her seat, her eyes still on his. His right hand fell from the steering wheel, just as slow and hesitant, to the side of his own seat, inches away from hers.

The back door opened and Soap got inside, carrying three takeaway cups in a card holder.

‘‘Almost two tenners for three drinks! A fucking robbery, I’m never coming back to this shop…’’

‘‘Put your seatbelt on’’ Riot sighed, looking out the window, with her arms crossed. Ghost was staring at the front, both hands on the wheel.

‘‘Drinks first! Your cocoa here…’’ Johnny handed the cup over, and then the black coffee to Ghost, using his free hand then to buckle up. ‘‘Ready to go to be chewed out by the Cap’’

The Lieutenant said nothing at that, lifting his mask over his nose so he could take a sip of the pipping hot coffee. Next to him, Riot was doing the same, although she grimaced and brought her left hand up to her scarred cheek.

‘‘Mierda (shit)’’

‘‘Too hot?’’ Ghost looked at her, worried but not showing it, and she nodded.

‘‘Hurts when something is too hot or too cold…’’ Riot shrugged, blowing on the liquid slowly before sipping carefully. ‘‘Ah, well, can’t be helped’’

‘‘Do you know what Price has in store for us, Lt?’’ Soap asked from the back, sipping his own coffee, the three of them enjoying their hot drinks before making the drive back.

‘‘I do not, but I guess it’ll be either running laps or scrubbing the toilets’’

‘‘Ach, that’s what Chris said he’d make us do…’’ Johnny lay down on the backseat dramatically, grinning.

‘‘You know I’m always right’’ Christine said with sarcasm, not happy at all with the perspective, but knew they had earned it. No regrets though.

‘‘That’s actually not correct’’ Simon finished his coffee and returned the empty cup to Soap, who put it back on the holder. ‘‘You are wrong about one thing you said just a while ago’’

‘‘What?’’ She turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised and holding her own cup, observing him while he turned the engine on.

‘‘I do bite’’ Simon pulled his balaclava down again, but not before she could see the cocky grin on his scarred lips. From the backseat, Soap choked on his coffee.

Christine’s heart skipped a beat. Like a schoolgirl. She even felt the blush on her cheeks, and tried to hide it by sipping on her cocoa, smiling, but couldn’t resist.

‘‘Good to know’’ She purred, and from the corner of her eye she saw his jaw clench beneath the balaclava.

‘‘I hate you both’’ In the backseat, Johnny pretended to gag, although he was grinning.

25 notes · View notes

moon-fics · 1 year

Text

Rest Under The Stars-TASM!Peter Parker

A/n: hello, I used to go by River-Fics but I recently lost that account. If anyone has reblogged a fic from me (no matter how long ago) please send me a copy of it so I can post it again. It would mean the world.

Summary: after a long night of fighting crime Peter returns to you for comfort.

The stars are brightly lit tonight, showing almost every constellation. You’ve managed to find both dippers and Orion’s belt. However, you’ve forgotten to find any others, opting to just gaze at their beauty. Stargazing has become a new distraction for you while Peter is out fighting crime. It calms your nerves and reminds you you’re under the same moon as him and that he’ll always return.

You close your eyes for a second and as if he had been waiting for a mysterious entrance, you hear a thud and a few grunts. You peek your eye open to see your favorite masked hero stumbling on the roof. You observe the way he regains composure and begins walking over to you, with no limp. He seems strong enough to walk straight so your alarms don’t blare.

“It’s dangerous to be out at night!” He teases, dropping down next to you. He removes his mask revealing a large bruise on his cheek. You quickly sit up and place your hand on his injured cheek, careful enough to avoid the actual bruise. He leans into your touch with a soft smile, it calms your nerves and lets you know he’ll be ok for the night.

“If only I had a hero to keep me safe.” You hum, kissing his lips gently. You pull away after a few seconds and you notice his eyes are full of exhaustion. He’s been fighting all night and now he can finally rest. “Busy night?”

“Is there any other type of night? Got punched like a thousand times.” He laughs, wrapping his arm around you. You rest your head on his shoulder and you’re granted his warmth. You could never understand how Peter could conjure so much heat even on a cold night.

“At least there wasn’t any stabbing this time.” You nudge him and instantly apologize when he winces.

“You’d think that after stabbing me so many times they’d realize I’m just gonna be back the next night.” He glances at you with a small smirk, watching as you laugh at his quips. It’s refreshing seeing as the people he fights don’t exactly appreciate his humor.

There’s a long pause where both of you stare up at the sky, basking in each other’s presence. It brings Peter more joy than anything he could ever think of. Your company brings peace to him and often helps him sleep easier. He can’t wrap his head around why you stay when he makes you worry so much. He can’t count the number of times he’s had to watch you fret over every wound wishing he could be someone else. You’ve learned how to sow just for him so he could get extra hours of sleep instead of hunching over his suit with shaking hands, trying to fit a string through the needle.

“Y/n?” He whispers and you look at him with bright eyes. “I love you.” With those three words, your lips part into a huge smile. It’s not the first time he’s said it, not even the tenth. Somehow it always brings a smile to your face, even during fights.

“I love you too, Mr.Crime Fighter.” You giggle. He places his head on top of yours. He can smell your shampoo which is one of his favorite scents, besides burnt wood.

“When we get married that’ll make you Mrs. Crime Fighter, such a long title.” He adds and you roll your eyes. Even if it’s a joke he sincerely hopes you’re the one he marries, if he lives long enough to even buy a ring. He can’t imagine anyone else being by his side for the rest of his life. The thoughts of ghosting you out of fear for your safety are muted when he’s around you, it’s selfish. He knows that your life could be in danger one day but he also knows you aren’t helpless. He’s seen you fight a few criminals when he was too injured to stand. So, for now, he’ll spend every free second he has with you. He’ll even fall asleep on the roof of your apartment building under the stars if it means you’re happy.

“Pete!” Your voice wakes Peter from his light nap, jolting him up. He’s already alert and ready for anything that might have caused you to call. He’s up on his feet, in a defensive position when a hand plants itself on his shoulder. He recognizes it instantly and turns around to face you. There’s a sympathetic look on your face and he lowers his guard. “I was just trying to wake you so we can go to the apartment.” You inform him.

“Oh, yeah no that is way better than what I originally thought.” He nods and the heaviness of sleep drops back down on him. You tenderly wrap your arms around him and guide him to your apartment.

Once you reach your bedroom without anyone spotting you carrying a maskless Spider-man, you carefully drop him on your bed. He’s quick to remove the tight suit and you open his drawer. You pull out new boxers and a t-shirt, tossing it to him. You head into the bathroom to finish getting ready since you’re already wearing sleep clothes.

You exit the bathroom and see Peter half asleep on top of the covers wearing his new boxers. He’s chosen not to put on a shirt and you can’t complain. You crawl into bed and slowly shake him awake. He gets the hint instantly and joins you under the covers. He snakes his arm around you and instinctually pulls you against his chest. Like the furnace, he is he heats you up just enough to be comfortable.

“Goodnight, Mrs. Crime Fighter.” He slurs already falling back to sleep.

“Night. Mr. Crime Fighter.” You respond with a smile.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spider man x you #spider man x reader #spider man x y/n #tasm!peter parker angst #tasm!spiderman x reader #the amazing spider man 2 #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker fic #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm!peter parker x reader

139 notes · View notes