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professorspork · 3 years

Note

If you're accepting non-superhell prompts, I'd love to see a conversation between Nora and Emerald! I've been REALLY loving these microfics, I've subscribed to you on Ao3, I'll read whatever else you write

[Gahhh that’s so nice you’re so nice!! thanks for being patient on this one, finding my Nora took some doing]

It’s occurring to Emerald that she’s never had a close female friend before.

You say that like you’ve ever had any friends before, the voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Mercury needles her, but she brushes it aside. Like—okay, yeah, she’ll concede the point when it comes to Cinder. In hindsight, whatever they’d had going on between them may have been... super intense... but it probably had never been friendship, in the usual definition. But she and Mercury were friends, no matter what the judgy little shitstain version of him who lives in her head has to say about it. They’d always gotten along. Told each other stuff. It’s not like there’s more to it than that, right?

It had always been like that. Been—instinctive somehow, with guys. Before Cinder, on the street, it was always the men who’d been easiest to manipulate; who would empty their pockets for a smile and a sob story. And then she and Merc had been two sides of the same coin for so long, and then... well, Hazel’d liked her enough to die for her, apparently. (Which—that’s a door that she keeps closed, thanks. She shuts it firmly again, now.) Oscar seems fond of her, in a sweet, uncomplicated sort of way that she really doesn’t know what to do with, seeing as he shares headspace with like a trillion year old man and the idea that anything to do with that kid could be “uncomplicated” is batshit. Ren vouched for her once, and then again, and now he keeps doing it, like it’s habit, like she should just be used to the fact that people are going to have her back, to ask her if she’s eaten, to turn to her with a raised eyebrow in conversation like her opinion would be constructive.

Anyway.

Now that she’s noticed the pattern, it seems like the kind of thing she should probably… work on, or whatever. And Nora seems like an obvious place for Emerald to start. They’ve been thrown in together a lot, lately, Emerald and Oscar expected to fill in the gaps of what’s left of the old JNPR by default. Not that they’ve ever really had a conversation about it—Emerald can’t think of the last time Nora said two words to her that weren’t combat warnings like “more Grimm coming” or “on your left,” but. That’s probably just because things have been tense. She remembers Nora being friendly, on the whole of it. Off-puttingly friendly, even, back at Beacon.

How hard could it be?

The answer, it turns out, is absurdly hard. Nora’s barely ever in the temporary barracks they’re all living out of, instead always checking on the refugees, going on supply runs over esoteric requests, volunteering for extra patrols. Emerald used to find that kind of dogged do-goodery gag-inducing, but now that she’s been the helping hand herself a few times, she’s starting to see the appeal. The way people look at you when you’ve been of service, it’s—nice. Really nice. But Nora works utterly thankless jobs, the kind most people don’t even notice, let alone appreciate. And when they have their insufferably long leadership meetings and they’re talking about distribution of resources or whatever, Nora’s a fierce debater—jumping in to advocate for the people from Mantle sometimes even before May can. As far as Emerald can tell, she does this stuff just because... she believes in it. Because it’s the right thing to do, and someone has to.

She can’t imagine what it would feel like, to have the attention of someone like that turned on her. She’s craved it from the wrong people for so long, but now that she has her pick of options... she’s letting herself actually want the right kind, for once. She thinks.

Which is all to say that largely through no fault of her own, Emerald unexpectedly finds herself sitting with a profound, fervent desire for Nora Valkyrie to think she’s cool.

She hates that.

Fighting with Nora is easy.

(—er. Alongside. Fighting alongside Nora is easy. Emerald’s done fighting with these people. Very done.)

It’s weird, because Emerald’s finding working with a full team to be a real adjustment. When battles get big enough to merit it, she’s used to keeping to the sidelines to use her Semblance for nefarious purposes, or, in a jam, used to having Mercury’s six—literally, because all the forward momentum from his feet-first style always left his back wide open. Figuring out where to put herself so that Oscar can use her shoulder as a fulcrum as he dodges, or trying to aim for the Grimm Ren isn’t already shooting (ugh)—it’s taking work.

But somehow, it’s not work for Nora. Nora seems to anticipate with perfect ease how Emerald will move or what she’ll be doing; Nora bobs and weaves around their ragtag little band with her war hammer like it’s breathing.

It doesn’t bother Emerald until it does, and she means to bring it up casually but there’s never a good time. So it just… stews, and stews, until she can’t keep it bottled up anymore.

Which means that instead of the earnest question she intends it to be, it comes out like this:

“Okay, seriously? It’s creepy how you do that.”

It’s just the two of them, plus the handful of dweeby Atlesian tech-types they’re escorting back from their foray installing some fancy hydro-filtration modules on the outskirts of the camp. And it’s not like Emerald had felt outmatched by the half-dozen Ravagers that had decided they looked like lunch—she can shoot Ravagers in her sleep, at this point—but still. The way Nora had moved around her, it was like they’d been fighting side by side for years.

Nora just cocks her head to the side. “Do what?” she asks, like she hadn’t just basically read Emerald’s mind in front of the water nerds.

Emerald does a complicated gesture with her hands, wrist over wrist, and then flicking two fingers—trying to evoke the way Nora had flipped over Emerald’s back and then kicked off, just trusting Emerald would reel her back in with a chain in midair before a Grimm could fly away with her sorry ass. “That.”

“Oh!” Nora laughs and rubs at the back of her neck, looking sheepish. “It’s nothing. I guess it’s just not a big deal for me? Like—I was there when Ren built StormFlower. The cables are newish, but we practiced so much back in Atlas… I dunno. It’s just reflex, when your weapons are so similar. Fighting with you, it’s almost like fighting with him. I don’t even have to think about it.”

Nora swallows, then, and makes a face Emerald can’t interpret—disappointed, maybe, or ashamed. Which: good. She probably should be, taking things for granted like that.

“Well—just—” Emerald’s not even sure what she wants to say. Ask, next time? Don’t? “You shouldn’t make assumptions. I’m not your boyfriend, okay?”

The venom she puts behind the word is directed more at herself than Nora—frustrated, again, that she’s put herself in the position of wanting so desperately to be liked.

Pathetic.

Nora just nods, looking glum.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, cheeks pulling in a bitter smile. “You’d think I’d be able to keep that one straight, huh?”

She says it with such pointed irony that for a second Emerald wonders if she’d gotten it wrong somehow, but like—Nora and Ren are a thing, right? That’s—everyone knows that.

“Hey, what—?”

“Let’s just go,” Nora says, and Emerald automatically falls into line behind her.

They make the rest of the walk back in silence.

Sometimes at night, when she can’t sleep, Emerald likes to climb up to the roof of the barracks and look out over the refugee camp.

It’s—peaceful, is all. A good reminder of where she is; how far she’s come. The night sky in Vacuo has more stars than she’s ever seen, and being able to watch over all these people who have somehow become her responsibility… well.

A part of her will always be standing on the rooftop at Beacon, looking down on pure chaos as a queasy, frightened sensation twists in her gut and its noxious voice whispers you did this, you did this, you did this. What did you think was going to happen, you stupid little girl? You don’t get to feel sorry for it now.

But she does.

Weird how the only thing that’s helped is actually doing something about it.

She hears a scuffling noise over her shoulder, and she’s got Thief’s Respite drawn and ready before she can even really register what she’s heard. She relaxes when she sees it’s Nora at the other end of the barrels, unarmed and hands raised—a funny little smile on her face, like yeah, fair enough, I should have known better than to try and sneak up.

“Just me,” she says, unnecessarily.

Emerald holsters her guns. “Can I help you?” she asks, and—what is it about her voice, that makes sentences that would be nice if any other human said them come out straight-up hostile?

Nora shrugs, hands dropping to her sides. “I was hoping we could talk; I figured you’d come up here if I waited long enough.”

Well, see—what kind of lesson is she supposed to take from that? She’s been hoping for Nora to talk to her for weeks, and acting like a bitch is the thing that gets her what she wants? Good guys are supposed to know better.

And there’s the way she said it, too. Like everyone knows Emerald comes up here to brood; like it’s a big open secret. The knowledge sits uncomfortably in her stomach, makes her feel watched. Even now, even here, she can’t get a moment alone. Not really.

“What, so you’re spying on me now?”

Nora’s eyes narrow. “I have a pretty bad track record when it comes to losing people. Makes a girl want to put in a little hustle when it comes to keeping tabs on her friends.”

And Emerald would snark at that, or maybe apologize, or something, only—

Nora thinks they’re friends?

“Well, take a seat, I guess,” she mumbles, scooching to the side as though she needs to make room on the massive, empty roof.

Nora walks over and joins Emerald on the asphalt, letting her legs dangle over the edge. Seemingly unsure of where to start, she stares at her hands. Emerald stares too, but her eyes can’t help but wander—tracing the way scars, silvery in the moonlight, spiderweb up Nora’s bare wrists and forearms to fetter her shoulders, clavicle, neck. Like cracks in a pane of glass, right before it shatters.

(Only that’s not it at all, is it? It’s not a sign of weakness, but a warning of strength. I care this much, her scars announce to the word. You wanna try me?

Hazel’s arms always looked like that.)

Emerald doesn’t want to be the one to break the silence, sure that whatever she’d say would be incredibly stupid.

Luckily, Nora has no such qualms, and opens with: “I really admire you, you know?”

Emerald stares, jaw slack, certain she’s heard wrong. “I—what?” She’d say something defensive, like yeah right or you don’t have to make fun of me, only Nora’s eyes are so wide and so guileless they don’t leave any room for argument.

“I mean it,” Nora adds. “I know we don’t know all that much about each other, but… here’s what I do know: I can’t remember a time I saw you without Mercury right behind. Just like me’n Ren. And the way you fought for Cinder…” Nora smiles a sad, private little smile. “You don’t fight like that unless it’s personal; unless someone means something to you. Just like me’n Ren. And now you’re here. All on your own. And you didn’t have to be. That’s—don’t you think that’s crazy brave? I sure do.”

Of course she fucking doesn’t. Crazy brave would have been walking away the first, tenth, hundredth time she had a flash of panic about what she was doing. Or, better yet, doing something about it. Crazy brave is taking thirty thousand volts to get to your friends; it’s flooding your veins with pure crystalline power and saying Go, I’m doing what Gretchen would have done, it’s—

She closes that door.

“It’s not like I really had a choice,” she sighs, dodging the question.

“Oh, you know that’s not true,” Nora scoffs dismissively, tilting sideways to nudge Emerald with her shoulder.

And Emerald jolts, because—look, it’s not like no one touches her. They have to manhandle each other all the time in battle, and… and Oscar gives her high fives sometimes, which makes her embarrassingly pleased. But what Nora’s offering now, that kind of buddy-buddy casual contact…

… it’s been a while, is all.

“So, why did you want to talk to me?” Emerald asks, overwhelmed and suddenly desperate to find a way to get this conversation over with. She feels like she’s sprinted five miles; like she’s had the crap kicked out of her and she has to go somewhere to lick her wounds. Too much, too fast.

Nora laughs—a chuffing, cynical noise that doesn’t sound at all like her. “Looking for pointers? See, I’m trying this thing where I do things on my own, but I just—I suck at it. Like today; you saw. Even when I’m not with Ren, all I do is… is act exactly the same way I do when I’m with Ren. Like I literally don’t know how to exist without him, whether he’s actually there or not. And I know that’s not fair to anyone; I didn’t mean to treat you like—” She shakes her head, biting her lip. “You’re not just some stand-in. It’s not you at all. I’m just—broken, or something. One trick pony.”

“No, hey—”

“But you figured it out,” she barrels on, which is good, because Emerald doesn’t actually have a clue what she would have said there. “You don’t have anyone and somehow you’re just, like—good to go!” Nora says it cheerily, like it’s a compliment, but has the grace to balk a little when she hears how it sounds. “…sorry. That’s—sorry.”

Emerald shrugs, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin there. She feels like an idiot; building it up for weeks like spending time with Nora would solve all her problems when, surprise surprise, Nora’s just as fucked up as she is.

“Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have any hot tips,” she mutters into the crooks of her elbows. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Like—you want to know the really sad part? I was just following your lead.”

“My…?” Nora can’t even finish repeating it, which: Emerald can’t blame her. It’s so dumb. “Huh?”

“Come on. You know.”

“I don’t,” Nora says, voice thick with exhaustion. Like she’s sick of herself. “Ask anyone—I’m not the brains of the operation.”

Hearing Nora talk about herself that way makes Emerald’s chest feel tight; like her ribs have locked in place so her lungs can’t expand. She doesn’t know how to explain it; not without sounding like a starry-eyed fangirl or a moron with a crush and that’s not what this—it’s only that—

She chooses to start a different way.

“You wanna know why I switched sides? Like, really why?”

Nora softens, and reaches out to touch the back of Emerald’s left hand, where it dangles over her knee. “Sure,” she says, but Emerald barely hears it; it’s taking all of her concentration not to clench her fist or pull away in response.

“I overheard Oscar—or, Ozpin, I guess, I don’t know—talking to Hazel about Salem, about her goals. And… listen. No one joins under Salem because they’re trying to kill the world, okay? I mean, no one but Tyrian, anyway. We were all just trying to… find ways to get by. And when Cinder found me, she—” Emerald swallows, hard. This cuts too deep, too close. It’s not something she can just say. “I wasn’t trying to be some big villain, or something. I was just—looking out for the people who were looking out for me. And why wouldn’t I? No one else ever seemed to think I was worth it.”

“Of course you are,” Nora cuts in, quiet but vehement. “Everyone is.”

“See, the worst part is that you mean that when you say it,” Emerald grumbles, scrubbing at her face until smears of color kaleidoscope behind her closed eyes. “I figured people like you didn’t exist, and then Cinder and Merc were glad to prove me right, and—I let them. You know? And maybe if I’d just held out a little longer…”

“You’re not the only one here who’s ashamed of her past. Harriet tried to blow up Mantle, like, a month ago.”

“That’s not—forget that. I’m talking about you. Nora.” It’s the first time she’s ever said her name like that—addressing her, in conversation. It feels… astonishingly intimate, for so small a thing. Emerald powers past it. “Every day, I see you do something ridiculous, like double back on a patrol because you forgot you promised some kid a candy bar, or something, and that—matters. To me. It’s so stupid, but it’s not, because… argh! I want—it’s—” She tries to get her mouth to form the words, that’s the kind of person I want to be, but they stop in her throat.

Still, Nora seems to get the message. Her eyes seem suspiciously shiny for a moment—but when she blinks, it’s gone. “I… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Emerald grumbles. Saying it like she means it: seriously. Don’t mention it.

“I understand what you mean, though. For years, the only person who looked out for me was Ren. And if he’d said…” Nora trails off, then, cocking her head to the side as she works through something. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just. I remembered something. I was about to say that if Ren told me the only way for us to get by was a life of crime, or something, I would’ve taken his word for it, but—the opposite happened. We decided to enroll at Beacon. And that wasn’t his idea; it was mine. I always wanted to be a Huntress. To… to be the one strong enough to help people, instead of always needing the help. He wasn’t sure if we would make it, but I was. We were together, right? How could we lose?” She chuckles, a little, shaking her head at herself. “Get a load of that. He followed me.”

They smile at each other, then. Like they’ve figured out something profound. Maybe Nora has; Emerald hopes so.

“I’m glad you’re here, Emerald,” Nora says, and—there it is again. The frisson of electricity that comes with being referred to by name.

Of course, then Emerald ruins it by blurting out:

“Of course you are, all your other friends are dead.”

Which—“Fuck!” she sputters, because she didn’t mean to say that. What is wrong with her? “Sorry! Sorry.”

Nora only grins at her, feral and incisive. “Yeah, well. Yours are evil, so. Pick your poison. At least I’m proud of mine.”

Touché.

“Still glad I’m here?” Emerald jeers, because her first instinct is still to press on the bruise to see how much it hurts.

Nora laughs, and gets to her feet. “Believe it or not, yes. If putting your foot in your mouth was all it took to get booted from Hero Club, I’d have been kicked out a long time ago.” She reaches down to offer Emerald a hand; Emerald takes it, letting Nora pull her to standing. “Now go and get some rest, huh? None of us can ever sleep when you’re up here thinking so loud.”

“That an order?”

“Advice. Friends give it, from time to time.”

And—yeah. Maybe they do.

#typeoneninja #emerald sustrai #nora valkyrie #rwby #emerald and nora #fic what i wrote

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sukifans · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 1k!!! Can you do number 9 from 50 cliché promts and tropes with mako x reader? :)

MAKO + “there’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling”

⇦ 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

“Well, this is... unfortunate.”

“It’s unacceptable.” You glanced at Mako, who was visibly irritated. “First Beifong only approves one room because of ‘budget cuts,’ and now we’re expected to share a bed?”

“Relax, tough guy. I’m sure it was just a booking error. I’ll go talk to the receptionist.” You left your partner and your bag in the room with the single large bed against the wall to go downstairs and sort out the mistake. You gave the man at the desk your friendliest smile as you approached.

“Hello again,” the man said, looking up at you. “Is there a problem with the room?”

“Yes, actually. We should’ve been booked for a room with two beds but there’s only one. Could we be moved somewhere else?” You tried to sound as amicable as possible as you spoke, hoping the employee would oblige.

He flipped through the large book of records in front of him and traced his finger down a page. “Ah, yes! You reserved a double. So sorry about that—let me see what else is available.” You watched as he flipped through again, mumbling to himself. Your smile faltered a little when he frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“It appears everything else is filled for the night. I’m terribly sorry, but there’s nothing I can do.” The man eyed you as if expecting you to blow up at him, but you just sighed and tightened your smile.

“Ah, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out. Thank you for checking, though.”

Mako was not gonna be happy.

“You’re joking,” he deadpanned, crossing his arms over his chest. You dropped down to sit on the edge of the problematic bed itself. “Are you and Beifong trying to pull a prank or something?”

You stared up at him. “Beifong? A prank? Really?”

“Okay, no,” he huffed. “But you’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you think it’s funny to inconvenience me?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mako.”

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking.”

He groaned and threw himself in the threadbare armchair in the corner of the room. “Great, just what I needed,” he grumbled to himself.

“Hey, I’m not exactly thrilled about this either!” You rolled your eyes. “If you’re gonna freak out about it you can take the bed and I’ll just... sleep on the floor or something.”

“No, no. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“How noble,” you laughed. “You’re the one who has a problem sleeping with me. Take the bed.”

“I—” His cheeks tinged a slight pink that didn’t escape your notice. “I don’t have a problem.”

“You sure seem to.”

“I shared a blanket with Bolin on the street for most of my childhood.”

“You must be getting spoiled with that detective salary if you can’t rough it for one night and share a bed with your favorite partner. Going soft?”

You grinned when he glared at you. “Why are you torturing me?”

“You’re easy to torture.” You stood up to rifle through your bag. “And it’s fun.”

“I’m requesting a partner transfer when we finish this assignment,” he muttered, making you bark out a laugh.

“You wouldn’t, you’re too attached now.” You straightened up with your arms full of toiletries and clean clothes. “I’m gonna go wash up so I can pass out. Early day tomorrow, and all. Catchin’ bad guys, kickin’ ass, takin’ names.”

“Uh-huh.” A small smile finally graced his handsome face for the first time since arriving at the inn. “I’ll be here keeping watch—y’know, for the bad guys.”

Once you’d scrubbed off the long day of travel and changed into clean, comfortable clothes you reentered the main room to see Mako studying the files for the case the two of you were working. His eyebrows were set into a furrow as he read through it and chewed at the inside of his cheek absently. You watched him for a few more moments once you settled down onto the worn but comfortable mattress. Something in the papers seemed to perplex him as he wrinkled his nose and flipped back a few pages. Suddenly, his warm orange eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked with a small frown.

You shrugged. “Trying to figure out if that smell is the room or just you.”

His frown deepened. “Uncalled for.”

You hummed noncommitally and snuggled down between the sheets. “Go clean up so I can sleep.”

“I’m not stopping you,” he said, snapping the file shut and rising from the chair.

“I gotta keep watch, remember? Bad guys,” you murmured despite your heavy eyelids. Mako shook his head and disappeared into the bathroom. The gentle, steady sound of running water lulled you into a drifting sleep after only a few minutes.

You roused slightly when Mako returned, shuffling around the room followed by curling steam and the smell of his soap from the bathroom. You squeezed your eyes shut tighter and tried to fall back asleep until you felt him grab a pillow off the other side of the bed. Rolling onto your side you sleepily looked up at him.

“What are you doing?” you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.” He stood next to a blanket on the floor with the pillow in his hand, dressed in a clean white shirt and loose pants. “I was just getting set up over here.”

You squinted at the pillow he held while your tired mind tripped over itself trying to catch up. “What?”

“I told you I’d sleep on the floor,” he said, gesturing to his makeshift sleeping area.

You blinked slowly at him. “Mako.”

“Yeah?”

“Get in the bed.”

“But—”

“I wasn’t asking,” you interrupted. “Come. To. Bed.”

He flushed lightly and opened and closed his mouth a couple times before looking down at his pillow he srill gripped. “I—I don’t want to make you... uncomfortable.”

“Uncomfortable?” you repeated blankly and he nodded. “I put my life in your hands every day, Mako. I trust you, probably more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. You’re not gonna make me uncomfortable. In fact, I’d be a thousand times more comfortable with you up here than on the floor.”

“Okay, okay,” he relented, finally moving back towards the bed. “You’ve made your point.”

“Good.” You closed your eyes again and yawned loudly. “The mattress is big enough we can both stay on our sides, no big deal. You need to rest well so I know you’re alert enough to save my ass tomorrow and sleeping on the floor does not reassure me.”

“I already agreed, you don’t need to keep working at me.” Mako carefully slid into the sheets, being almost calculating in how close he could stay to the edge without falling off. Even with the considerable empty space between you, you could still feel his familiar warmth seeping into your tired muscles.

“‘M a detective, can’t help it.”

“Go to sleep. You’ll have plenty of time to harass me in the morning.”

“You know you love me.”

If only you knew, he thought to himself as you slipped back into your dreamland.

The first thing you noticed upon regaining consciousness was the thumping rhythm next to your ear. The next thing you noticed was how warm you felt, despite the sheets being tangled down around your feet. You turned your head and buried your face into your pillow, inhaling deeply.

Soap. And smoke.

Hold on. You lifted your head up slowly and blinked blearily, taking in where you were as your brain whirred back to life.

Not your pillow. Mako—his chest, more specifically. Your eyes trailed down to where your bodies were pressed together in a tangle of limbs. The arm wrapped around you ended in fingers pressing into your waist. Your thigh was hiked up around his hip and his knee was slotted between your legs. You looked up at his face to see he was still sound asleep, lips parted as he breathed slowly.

You sat up all the way and his hand on your waist flopped down onto the bed. “Mako.”

He snorted and gave no other response.

“Mako,” you hissed, smacking his chest lightly. Without opening his eyes, he grabbed your hand and yanked you back down.

“Don’ hit me,” he grumbled, lips brushing your forehead as he spoke. “‘M sleepin’.”

Your face was starting to burn. “Well, wake up!”

He cracked one eye open to peer down at you and closed it again with a sniff. All at once it seemed to hit him and his eyes flew open as he shot upwards, knocking you to the side. You groaned as he launched himself out of the bed and onto his feet.

“What time is it?!” he barked.

“I don’t know!”

He whipped his head around to look at the clock on the bedside table. He made a small noise of panic and snatched it up as if getting a closer look would change the reading it gave.

“Fuck, we’re late!”

thank you for the request! i hope you enjoyed it! it ended up being way longer than i thought it would be lol. i guess i’ll tag my atla list and the people who wanted to be tagged in my full mako fic lol

ATLA TAGS: @hotgirlazula @octophopi @blazedbakugou @protect-remus @akiris @sunflowerazula @wooscottoncandyhair @chewymoustachio @ohno-caroline @sunflowerr-mami @1vitamin @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @u-4iia @nymeria-targaryen @tommy-braccoli @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @a-sloppy-bitch

REQUESTED TAGS: @ur-jinji @maruchan77 @songofgratitude @missturtleduck @zuko-is-the-sun @xxspqcebunsxx @atlabeth @malauri-lynn @sadskater25 @biqherosix @goodandevil18 @theeavtrkyoshi @miyonii @mcallmestiles @zutaraisendgamee @unketh @shortmexicangirl @keysvdssstuff @simmantha

#mako x reader #mako x you #mako x y/n #lok x reader #tlok x reader #mako fluff #mako imagine #atla x reader #mako fanfic #mako fic #legend of korra #avatar: the legend of korra #mine #lok fanfic

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homoose · 4 years

Text

Atlas

Summary: Three times that Spencer needed support, and one time he gave it. Lightly insp by the song Atlas by The Dip.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: heavy on the fluff, a lil bit of angst

Warnings/Includes: brief mentions of general anxiety/trauma/mild depression

Word count: 4.4k

———

Spencer pressed his fingers so far into the sockets of his eyes that Y/N thought he might actually jam one of his eyeballs into his brain. He was hunched over his desk, reading through the file of the case he was consulting on. Even on his mandatory 30-day leave, Spencer couldn’t fully tear himself away from hunting monsters.

Y/N moved from where she had been leaning against the doorframe, walking further into Spencer’s office. “Another headache?” She sighed, wrapping her arms around Spencer’s shoulders and pressing her warm cheek to his temple.

Spencer hummed. “Just need another cup of coffee.”

“Honey, you’ve been awake for almost three days,” Y/N sighed. “What you need is a gallon of water and 12 hours sleep.”

He leaned back further into the circle of Y/N’s arms and covered her hands with his own. “I can’t—the team needs this consult before they leave on Monday.”

“And just how long have you been reading this page?” Y/N questioned. When Spencer didn’t respond, she continued, “Mmhm, that’s what I thought. When it takes Dr. Reid two minutes to finish a page, something’s up.” She patted his chest. “Even the biggest brain needs a break.”

“Actually, there’s very little evidence that brain size has any correlation with measured levels of intell—” Spencer started.

“So you’ve mentioned,” Y/N chuckled. “My point still stands. I’m gonna make you a cup of tea and a snack, and then we’re gonna take a nap.” She kissed the top of his head before releasing her hold on him and moving to the kitchen.

Y/N filled the kettle and placed it on the stove before scrolling to find the playlist she had curated for days like this. The melancholic sounds of the Moonlight Sonata came through the bluetooth speaker as she pulled a wooden cutting board from the cupboard. Y/N dug through the bag from her earlier grocery run. She began placing the crackers, dried fruit, nuts, and cheeses on the board, taking time to arrange each piece just so. When she was satisfied with her work, Y/N turned to reach up on her tiptoes into the cupboard for her secret weapon. With a small smile, she placed it in the very center of the board. The kettle had barely begun its whistle when Y/N snatched it from the stove, cringing with a glance toward the door of Spencer’s office. She pulled his best-loved mug from the dish rack and dropped a fresh tea bag into it, covering it with the steaming water.

As the tea steeped, Y/N moved to the living room, crossing her arms as she contemplated the space. Although it was much darker than Y/N’s own living space, it was still far too bright to be comfortable for Spencer’s light sensitivity. Y/N made a mental note to find a suitable set of blackout curtains before retrieving a blanket from inside the trunk-style coffee table. She carried one of the kitchen chairs over to the window, quietly setting it underneath the curtain rod. Stepping up on the seat of the chair, she tossed the blanket up, trying to layer it up over the curtain. It took a few tries, but Y/N got it up and over the rod, adjusting it to block as much of the light as possible. She hopped off the chair, landing on the floor with a quiet thud.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” Spencer stood outside his office, hands in his pockets and honey colored eyes settled on Y/N’s face as she turned to him.

“I know.” Y/N padded across the hardwood. She grabbed Spencer’s hand and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. She shrugged, pulling him into the kitchen. “I don’t mind. I like taking care of you.” When they reached the table, she popped an almond into her mouth with a grin.

Spencer’s eyes moved over the cutting board, lips turning up in a small smile—the first one Y/N had seen in days—when they landed on the Jell-O cup. He picked it up and peeled back the lid. Y/N held up her mug of tea. Spencer let out a laugh and tapped it with his Jell-O. “Cheers.”

When the board held only crumbs and the mugs were empty, Y/N stood from the table and pulled Spencer to his feet. “Come on, nap time.”

“Y/N, I appreciate the thought, but I really have to finish—”

“Nope, sorry, that’s not part of the deal.” She gently pushed him toward the couch. At Spencer’s resistance, Y/N huffed out a breath. “Spence, you need a break. I’m not even asking you to go to bed. Just lay on the couch.” She lifted a hand to cradle Spencer’s face. “Unlike the brain size thing, there is actual research that says your brain doesn't function properly when you’re tired. And you, my love, are t-i-r-e-d.”

Spencer allowed himself to be lowered onto the brown leather couch, rubbing at his eyes. “Just twenty minutes.”

“Mhmm.” Y/N reclined next to him on the couch, grabbing the throw blanket draped over the back. “I’ll set the alarm.” She held out her arms. “C’mere.”

Despite himself, Spencer didn’t hesitate, winding his arms around Y/N’s middle and laying his head on her shoulder. She tucked the blanket around the both of them and wound their legs together.

“The alarm’s set?” Spencer mumbled, already falling under the spell of sleep.

Y/N pushed her fingers through his hair and scratched lightly at his scalp, smiling when he hummed happily and burrowed his face into her chest. “Setting it now,” she assured. Maybe she set it a little longer than 20 minutes, but Spencer didn’t need to know that.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N rolled over toward the nightstand and reached out, clumsily running her hand across the smooth table to grab the ringing phone. When her fingers wrapped around the device, she pulled it towards her only to have it jerk abruptly out of her hand when the charging cord reached its limit. “Shit,” Y/N muttered as it clattered to the floor. She emerged from under the duvet, leaning off the side of the bed and dragging her hand blindly across the floor. Finally, clutching the phone in one hand and pushing herself back into bed with the other, Y/N swiped to answer the call. “H‘lo?”

“Hey.”

At the sound of Spencer’s voice, Y/N was suddenly wide-awake. “Spence? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, I just—um. I know it’s late, sorry. Are you—? I just—God, you have to work in the morning, I’m sorry. I can—it can wait.”

Y/N paused a moment to make sure he was finished before asking, “Do you need me to come to you, or are you coming here?”

Spencer let out a sigh of relief. “I can—I’ll come to you.”

After thirty minutes of groggy pacing, Y/N opened the door to Spencer, hair frizzy and clothes rumpled from a long flight. She stepped back, allowing him into the apartment and then closing the door behind him. Spencer dropped his go-bag on the floor and ran a hand over his face as Y/N turned the deadbolt and secured the chain. She had barely turned around before he was latching onto her, completely enervated. He burrowed his face into the crook of her neck, and Y/N wrapped her arms tightly around him.

Y/N shifted her weight slowly back and forth, moving the two of them in a gentle swaying motion. She rubbed a hand up and down Spencer’s back, soothing and rhythmic. Spencer let out a shaky breath, and Y/N felt the collar of her shirt becoming damp. She brought a hand up to Spencer’s head, stroking his hair and repeating a familiar mantra: “You’re safe. I’m here. You’re safe. I’m right here.”

Y/N lost track of how long they stood there, swaying and soothing and shattering. Maybe minutes or maybe hours later, Spencer pulled back, head lowered and swiping his arm underneath his nose. Y/N reached out to grasp his face in both her hands, lifting it and sweeping her thumbs under his eyes. When Spencer finally looked at her, Y/N saw the golden irises were shining and ringed with red. “I love you.”

“I love you. So much.” Spencer circled Y/N’s wrists in his hands. “So much.”

She pressed one, two, three chaste kisses to his chapped lips. She dropped one kiss onto the tip of his nose, drawing out a hesitant smile. “Wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No.” Y/N pursed their lips, and Spencer sighed. “I—I will talk to someone, I promise. But I just—I don’t want it in here. In our space.” Y/N wound her fingers through Spencer’s, pulled his arms down, and tugged him closer. “Honestly, I just want to sleep with you,” Spencer admitted. Y/N wiggled her eyebrows and Spencer laughed. “You know what I mean.”

Y/N tried to pull a pout but just ended up smiling. “Fine. Come on, spoilsport. Let’s go to bed.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It was just… not a good day for her.” Spencer leaned back on the couch and scrubbed his hands over his face.

Y/N sat next to him on the couch. She couldn’t find the right words. “I’m so sorry, Spence.”

“Pragmatically, I know that there’s nothing more I could be doing. She made it clear what she wants, and I can’t force her to take medications or try new treatments.” He looked down at his hands, fingers tracing the lines of his palms. “But some days I—I just can’t… reconcile that this is what her life is now. Just… remembering less and less every day. Being confused and agitated all the time. I mean, all the time.” He paused and drew his lips into a thin line. “Not knowing who I am. That happens much more frequently than it used to.”

Y/N reclined back next to him on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table and pressing her shoulder to Spencer’s. “Even if she doesn’t always remember, you do. And if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you are irritatingly persistent,” she joked. “You won’t ever stop trying to remind her. And that’s the best thing you can do for her.”

Spencer nodded, dropping his head onto Y/N’s shoulder. She tilted her head, an idea flitting across the front of her mind. “Hey, here’s a thought. You know that scrapbook your mom made? Every page is a story from her life. But she stopped around the time you were like, ten, right?”

“Yeah. There’s… not much in there after that.”

“Ok so, what if you picked up where she left off? You have so many great stories and memories with her. You could put some of your journals and articles in there, too. Pictures of you and the team. That one of you and Ethan in New Orleans. Ones with Henry and Michael. Maybe one of you in the lecture hall.” Y/N sat up. “Writing her letters is great, you should keep doing that for sure. But did you know that visual aids—like, particularly photographs—can help stimulate memory recall in Alzheimer’s patients at any stage?”

Spencer smiled. “I actually did know that.”

“Ugh of course you did. Couldn’t just let me have this one thing.” Y/N rolled her eyes, though Spencer caught the hint of a grin underneath the feigned annoyance. “Seriously, I don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner. I have a ton of scrapbooking stuff,” Y/N said, scrambling up from the couch and into her bedroom.

“You do?” Spencer furrowed his brow. “I’ve never seen you scrapbook.”

“Eh, yeah, it was a phase,” she called from the bedroom. “Scrapbooking paper’s expensive as fuck, so it was a short-lived hobby.”

Spencer chuckled, listening to the sounds of Y/N rummaging through the bedroom closet. There was a muffled thud. “Everything okay in there?”

There were a couple more bumps and bangs, and then, “Ah yeah, here we go.” Emerging from the bedroom, Y/N wheeled a huge black roller bag over to the couch. She unzipped the top pocket and Spencer peered inside. “Oh so you meant, quite literally, a ton of scrapbooking stuff.”

“Look, my ADHD goes all out when it comes to starting new projects.” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “It’s the, you know, finishing projects that we struggle with.”

The pair went about die cutting, arranging, gluing, and giggling. Y/N scoured the depths of the internet (namely Penelope’s Facebook page) for photographs of Spencer—in costume at the BAU Halloween party, in his tuxedo at JJ and Will’s wedding, a selfie with Penelope at a Dr. Who convention, a candid of him doing magic for Jack and Henry, and even one of him singing karaoke.

Spencer worked on laying out the pages, gluing down frames and choosing decals that reminded him of his mother. He wrote a short synopsis on each page, summarizing his degrees, his work, and his friends. By the end of the afternoon, they had more than a dozen pages for the new book.

“I need one more picture,” Spencer said.

“I thought I got one of everyone? Or is there another karaoke picture that I don’t know about?” Y/N gawked over the top of the laptop from her spot on the couch. She was never going to let him live that down.

Spencer laughed. “No, I’m pretty sure that’s the only photographic evidence of that night.” He turned and smiled up at Y/N from where he sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scraps of paper and the remnants of sticker packs. “I need that one of us at the Cherry Blossom festival.”

“Oh. Well, um.” A blush crept up Y/N’s cheeks. “Coming right up.” She sent the photo to the printer, standing to retrieve it from her desk.

It was quiet in the room apart from the sounds of the printer, rhythmically whirring and inking the memory into life. Y/N absentmindedly chewed the inside of her lip, waiting for the final strokes of the photo to be laid. She turned back, photo in hand, to see Spencer smiling at her, soft and warm.

Over the course of the afternoon, he had swapped his shoes for a pair of fuzzy socks, and his contacts for his glasses. Y/N’s heart actually ached at the length of his sweater sleeves, covering all but the tips of his fingers. The picture of domesticity, Spencer patted the floor next to him. When Y/N sat, he took the photo from her hand, meticulously adding glue dots to each corner before pressing it down onto the page. He lifted his arm, tucking Y/N underneath and pulling her close. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“You’re very welcome.” Y/N snuggled a little deeper into his embrace. “All right so let’s see this masterpiece.”

When they arrived at the last page, Y/N was still incredulous over the details of the karaoke story. “Okay, but there has to be a video somewhere.”

“Oh, I’m sure there is. And you will never, ever see it.”

“Penelope Garcia is a tech wizard, and she is not above a bribe,” Y/N warned.

“What a coincidence, because I am also not above a bribe. Especially if it keeps that video from ever seeing the light of day.” Spencer laughed and squeezed Y/N’s shoulder. “I think this page is my favorite.”

Y/N and I at the Cherry Blossom festival. Y/N is kind, thoughtful, and passionate. She never fails to make me laugh. She’s always up for cloud watching with me, although she prefers altocumulus formations to the cumuliform heaps. We read together almost every night. You both love King Arthur and the Legends of the Round Table, particularly Tristan and Iseult. I could write a million more words about her and it wouldn’t be enough. When I was little, you told me that love is a world of its own that lives in the heart, not in the head. I know exactly what you mean.

⧭⧭⧭

Y/N tossed under the duvet, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to find a comfortable position. She had been sleeping for so long that her lower back was aching, the type of pain that twinges like the ticking of a clock, steady and incessant. She rolled over onto her stomach, stretching her whole body and reaching to turn the alarm clock toward her—3:27pm. She huffed, burying her head in the pillow with a loud groan. She had called out of work to have a productive day at home, and instead she slept the day away.

Y/N threw the duvet off and sat up. She tried not to let the guilt of calling out creep in. Instead, she shuffled into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. She resolved that small victories might be all she was capable of today.

She pulled her favorite sweater from the hook on her bedroom door, wrapping it tightly around her as she stepped over the threshold into the living and dining space. This is why she had stayed in bed so long. Y/N had been spending so much time at Spencer’s that she had been able to ignore the declining Depression Room™ facing her now.

Three days’ worth of dishes were piled in the sink. There was a stack of unopened mail about a mile high on the kitchen island. The trash and recycling needed emptying about a week ago. Jackets and shoes were strewn about the place—over chairs, the back of the couch, all over the floor. The coffee table was littered with granola bar wrappers, an old McDonald’s bag, empty gatorade bottles, and the dirty containers from last night’s takeout. Her desk was overrun with unfinished lesson plans, professional development books that needed reading, and spelling tests that needed grading.

Y/N knew she would feel better once she started, but she also knew it would take her all day to get the apartment looking even halfway decent. Since she had spent so long in bed, she had even less time to get it done. She was failing to fend off the guilt of calling out, particularly since she hadn’t actually gotten any work done. Compounding her guilt was the fact that Spencer’s apartment was always so clean and cozy. His job was a thousand times more demanding than hers. His life had more trauma and daily stressors than she could even imagine. And still, Y/N was struggling with basic adult tasks. She couldn’t understand it.

Just hang the jackets up. Throw away the junk mail. Wash the pots and pans first, then the plates and silverware. It will take four minutes to take the trash out. Spelling tests need to be in the grade book before the end of the marking period.

The door buzzer sounded and Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin. Running a hand through her hair and cringing at the greasiness, she crossed to the intercom and pushed the button to talk.

“Yes?”

“Hey!” Spencer’s chipper voice crackled through the speaker. “I tried calling you but couldn’t get through.”

Y/N was immediately torn between relief and panic. She was desperately in need of a hug and his company, but she was also mortified imagining what Spencer would think about the state of her apartment, the state of her life. “Y/N?” His voice broke through her musing.

��Yeah, sorry!” She tried to school her voice into something resembling normalcy. “Sorry, I—my phone died and I just— well, yeah.”

There was a pause, and then a tentative, “Can you buzz me in?”

“Oh, um.” Y/N turned and surveyed the apartment. There was nothing to be done. If she said no, Spencer would know for sure that something was wrong. “Sure, yeah yeah, hang on. Just—just a minute.”

Y/N moved quickly around the space and gathered the jackets and shoes into her arms. She fumbled with the door handle of the coat closet, tossing them in haphazardly and closing the door. There was no time to do much of anything else. She jogged back to the intercom, pressing the door button and then roping her hair up into a bun, hoping she could mask how dirty it was. She could hear Spencer coming up the squeaky stairs and felt her eyes start to water. She tilted her head back to keep the tears at bay.

Even Spencer’s knocking sounded happy. And of course that only made Y/N feel worse. She plastered on her best smile and opened the door. “Hi.”

“Hey!” Spencer stepped past Y/N, kissing her cheek and dropping his bag as he entered the apartment. “We had a paperwork day, and I write reports about as fast as I read, so I’m always done early. How was your day?”

“Um, you know, it was ok.”

Spencer’s eyes tracked over her face. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, I just wasn’t feeling great this morning. I called in, just hung around here.”

“You could have called me.” Spencer stepped closer. “How are you feeling now? What were your symptoms?”

“I’m fine. I was just, um—just really exhausted.”

Spencer studied her face a moment. “What’s going on?”

“Hmm? Nothing. Nothing, I’m fine.” Y/N cursed her wavering voice for betraying her emotions.

“Y/N, you have never once, in all the time I’ve known you, failed to answer your phone. I almost thought you were going to tell me to go away before you buzzed me up.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Did I— Did I do something to make you upset?”

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling more awful by the minute. Of course Spencer would worry it was his fault. “No, no, Spence, not at all. I just—um.” The genuine concern on Spencer’s face was enough to have it all spilling out. “I get like this sometimes. I can’t focus on anything or don’t feel motivated or whatever, so I put things off, and then they build up until there’s so much to do that I don’t know where to start, so then I don’t start anything, and then I feel bad about being lazy and not getting things done, and I get so overwhelmed that all I can do is sleep for like, fourteen hours like I did today, and then the whole day is gone and I still haven’t accomplished anything I was supposed to—”

“Whoa, whoa, c’mere.” Y/N hadn’t even realized she was crying until Spencer pulled her into him. He locked his arms around her back so tight it almost hurt. She was vaguely aware of the volume of her sobs, but she couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed. It was a completely visceral moment of release, one that she might never have permitted herself without Spencer’s prompting. Now that the floodgates were open, there was no stopping the rush of everything she had allowed to build up. She spent so much of her life being the one who helped, always listening, supporting, and comforting the people around her. She was good at it, and she liked being someone that others could count on whenever they needed her. She just didn’t know how to listen to, support, and comfort herself.

Eventually, her mind and body began to slow down, plunging from the emotional high. When Spencer felt her breathing return to that consistent rhythm, he loosened his grip around her. He left one arm firmly around her waist and used his other hand to rub circles on her back.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled into his chest. “This is so stupid. Compared to the stuff you see every day—”

“No— no.” Spencer pulled back to force her eyes up. “Don’t do that. Just because horrible things happen to other people doesn’t mean that what you’re going through isn’t hard. Y/N, do you hear me? Don’t diminish your own pain because you think someone else has it worse.” He cupped her chin gently in his hand. “What can I do to help you right now?”

“You already have helped,” Y/N sniffed. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Y/N... you’re not fine. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It—it’s okay to not be fine. But seeing you in pain hurts me, too. And I need to be able to do something about it.” He cradled her face in both hands. “You help me all the time. Please, let me do this for you. Let me be here for you.” After a moment, Y/N nodded and that was approval enough for Spencer. “What did you eat today?

“I um, I didn’t yet.” She sniffed. “I slept pretty late.”

“Okay, well it’s after 4:00pm. We’ve got to eat something.” Spencer ran his hands down Y/N’s arms. “I’d cook for you, but we already know how that story usually ends. How about takeout from the Indian place? They’re usually pretty quick.”

Y/N nodded again. “I need to take a shower, too.”

Spencer kissed her forehead. “You hop in the shower, and I’ll call in the order. It’ll be here by the time you’re done.”

When Y/N emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and skin smelling like lavender, the familiar aroma of curry and tandoori was drifting through the apartment. The coffee table was cleared and the kitchen table set with the takeout boxes and mugs of tea. The trash and recycling were freshly emptied. Spencer stood over the sink finishing up the last few dishes, the pots and pans already laid out to dry. He was quietly singing along to a familiar song—one of their favorites. His voice was sweet and soft and slightly off-key, and her heart panged in the best way as he sang:

Don't put the world on your shoulders 'cause you know it ain't your load to bear alone.

Y/N waited until the final notes of the song faded out, padding quietly across the kitchen floor. “You didn’t have to do all this,” Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his middle.

Spencer dried his hands before turning in her embrace. “I don’t mind. I like taking care of you. And I learned from the best.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and spoke against her skin. “You can even have the last Jell-o.”

Y/N smiled, quick and genuine. There were moments when life crashed over her, relentless waves breaking her down into grains of sand. And in those moments, this man forever grounded her to the truth—that she was treasured and deserving and whole— all of her, just as she was.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminals minds self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #homoose writes

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untaemedqueen · 3 years

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 11.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Maya Jump Scares (My Fave!), Sweet Yoongi, Talks of BDSM, Mentions of Hard and Soft Limits, Sexual Teasing, Introducing OC to BDSM, Kissing, Panty Kink, Use Of The Color System, Bondage, Training Orgasms, Daddy Kink, Breast Play, Degradation (Slut), Squirting, Mentions of Lactation Kink, Yoongi Cries, Pet Names, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Edging, Multiple Orgasms, Embarrassed Yoongi

A/N: Good luck. I'm fucking DEAD. Always a shout out to the greats @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna

Yoongi probably hasn't slept this well in a long time. Probably since he was a kid.

It's difficult for him to rouse from his slumber. It's comforting to feel your limbs contorting around his. He can feel himself drooling on your pillow distantly.

Everything feels like a dream right now.

He can feel your head laying on his arm. His hand is pressed to your stomach still and he feels such peace.

Opening his eyes, he can make out the chandelier on the ceiling. The daylight rays that bleed through the window bounce off of the Swarovski crystals that hang and they sprinkle the walls and ceilings with rainbow lights.

He would have never noticed these things before. Did last night change something in him?

Looking around the room, he jumps at the sight of Maya as she leans against the marble wall.

He sighs loudly, his hand running through his hair as his heart beats rapidly.

"What?!" he mouths to her.

Looking over at you, he brushes some hair off of your sleeping face. The baby must be making you so tired.

You did work hard last night on the delicious dinner you made. That might tire you out too.

Maya raises her eyebrows at the both of you in bed.

You groan at the light that now shines on your face since your hair has been moved.

Throwing your body over Yoongis' with a whine, he shushes you gently on instinct.

"Go back to sleep, little dove. You're alright." he whispers gently.

"It's twelve o'clock." Maya mouths to him, holding up his Rolex watch.

He's late for work.

Looking down at you, he watches how peaceful you are in your sleep.

He doesn't care about work. He's perfectly content where he is.

He flicks his hand, telling the woman who is like his mother to go away.

With a smile, she bows her head. "Sir."

"Yoongi?" your voice is laden with sleep.

He finds himself smirking as you whisper his voice.

"Right here. I didn't leave," he promises as you pick your head up off of his arm.

"I slept like a brick," you mumble.

Chucking to himself, Yoongi can only agree.

"Me too. I'm late for work." he jeers.

You sit up quickly, eyes roaming the room before finding the digital clock by the bed.

"It's twelve! You're so late!" you gasp loudly.

"It's okay, I'm the boss, little dove."

"That's not a good excuse," you jeer, shoving his shoulder with a laugh.

He finds himself chuckling as he lays back down on the pillow. "I can work from home."

You pout at him, combing your hair over your shoulder as you sit up against the headboard.

"I haven't been up to the third floor, yet." you admit, stretching your limbs to a satisfying degree.

"I can show you what's up there. Maybe after we eat some brunch," the father of your child suggests, laying back down on the pillow.

"I'd like that," you reply, warmly.

Last night, you discovered so much about the man lying beside you. You could never imagine how hard his life has been. It's really a shame.

But, there are times you find his sweet side peeking out. And you decide to focus on those instances from now on instead of the others.

He deserves it.

You deserve it.

"Why haven't you made yourself at home?" Yoongi asks, gently.

Looking around the room, you notice the cardboard boxes of paintings and stuffed animals. Small little knick knacks piled up without a place to go.

Humming unsurely, you look around the room. "I just didn't feel like my stuff was good enough to put in here maybe? I didn't really feel the need to do it." you reply with a shrug.

Yoongi scoffs gently as he stands, twisting his back with a groan. The sounds of his bones cracking echo throughout the large room and you smirk as he walks over to the boxes.

You watch his legs contort and flex through his briefs and the image of his pert backside makes an eyebrow raise.

He is really good looking.

Picking up a stuffed red panda, he tilts his head at the cuteness. His eyes look down into the box and he notices just how many stuffed animals you have.

"Jesus, why do you have so many?" he asks with a laugh, continuously picking up some of the toys big and small.

Sitting up to look past him, you giggle.

"Every year during the Fall Festival, I get at least two. Their fun to get! Makes fun memories!" you reply happily as you stand up.

"You can remember every single memory for each stuffed animal?!" he sounds bewildered and it makes you laugh.

"Of course!"

"No fucking way!" he jeers.

Stepping beside him, you watch as he rifles through the box.

Pulling out a panda at the bottom of the box, he hands it to you.

"What memory is that, smarty pants?" he quips, leaning against the glass door to your balcony.

Your lips purse as you stare down at it.

"Well this is Yukhoe, I got him at the fair… seven years ago, I think? I won him for getting the most consecutive balls in the one thousand point hole during skeeball."

"Bullshit!" Yoongi cries with a laugh.

His laugh is so pretty. Even the gummy smile he gives you is heart stuttering.

"I'm serious!" you reply, shoving him gently with your hand.

He snorts loudly, rolling his eyes as he folds his arms.

"You should put them up if you have so many memories," he insists looking around the room.

You hum unsurely, placing the toy down to grab at your stomach.

"Or maybe you can put them in the babies' room? That'd be nice," Yoongi mumbles absentmindedly.

You find yourself smirking even amidst your morning sickness. He's being so kind. It's making butterflies appear when you thought it could never happen.

Finally, he looks back down at you. He notices how you clutch onto your stomach, how you lean against the armchair for support.

"You feel sick?" he takes it upon himself to tie your hair up without argument.

"Just a little," you reply.

Helping you sit down, he crouches beside the chair. He rubs slow, soothing circles to your back as you rest your elbows on your knees.

"It'll go away," you promise.

"I know, little dove. Sesame gremlin is really molding your body to how it sees fit," the CEO whispers.

Your heart feels warm as he speaks such kind words.

"You remembered," you whisper in awe, turning your head to look at him.

He smirks, furrowing his eyebrows. "I remembered? That you called it a sesame gremlin?"

You nod happily as he chuckles.

"That's our baby name for now, why would I forget that?" he asks, confused.

"Just didn't think you cared that much," you reply, the nausea starting to ebb away.

"Oh, I care. It's just hard for me to show it sometimes… Most of the time." he whispers, brushing some stray hairs away from your cheek.

You hum sweetly, a noise that fills the man beside you with glee.

"I feel a little better," you whisper, sitting back up.

"Good. Let's go get you some water and food, hmm?" he asks softly, helping you stand.

Watching you walk away to the bathroom, Yoongi can only describe this past encounter as comfortable. It just seems right. It feels domestic and warm.

It feels so perfectly his.

"Frederic, that was amazing!" you say, setting down your fork.

The chef looks up at you from the pan, a wide smile set on his face.

"Madame. You flatter me. I am just your humble serviteur," the man says, bowing to you.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a chuckle.

It didn't take long for him to call his office and tell them that he would be working from home. But, it was just long enough for him to begin missing you while you were in the shower.

He's starting to become attached to you. He's only ever felt attached to Maya.

"You have to go work, right?" you ask him as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

He nods slowly, picking up his coffee while turning to you.

"Yeah, just gotta go over a few documents. You can come up with me though, if you want to. Bring a book or something?" he sounds shy as he asks you.

Not too long ago, that question would have made you feel uncomfortable. But now, you're more than content with agreeing.

"Sure, I'm almost done with a book I took from the library," you reply as he helps you down from the stool.

"What book are you reading?" he finds himself asking, his arm extends, politely telling you to walk first before him.

"Atlas Shrugged," you reply, ascending the stairs.

The prospect of you reading such a large book makes him impressed.

"When did you start reading the book?" he inquires softly, the both of you landing on the second floor.

"Two days ago," you say, walking towards your studio to grab the book.

"You're almost finished with a one thousand page book in two days?!" his voice is filled with awe as you pick up the hardcover book.

Turning to him, you press the book to your chest with a smile. "Well yeah, it's a great book."

His lips purse, seeming impressed. "Well goddamn, you're an enigma aren't you, little dove?"

The third floor is perfectly grandiose. There are small cases filled with what seem to be heirlooms lining the marble walls.

"No one really comes up here." Yoongi explains as you walk through the large hallway.

The two wings at the top seem to be filled with crates and boxes. There are white sheets that cover many pieces of furniture and at night you would hate to be up here. It seems like it would be creepy and daunting.

"Most pieces of furniture and the art and statues in the crates haven't been added down to the museum wings, yet. I just leave them up here." Yoongi says as you wade through them all.

"So interesting," you quip, lifting a white sheet to look at the pretty furniture beneath it.

"Kinda creepy." Yoongi says, folding his arms.

You hate to admit it but you nod along with his words.

"Just a little," you reply with a giggle.

"Come," he whispers softly.

As you continue back to the main hallway, you feel his hand on your lower back once more and it fills you with a sense of calm.

He's getting good at that these days.

"This is my office," he says, opening up the double doors.

Everything in this room is pristine and you can tell that it's never been used before last week.

As you go to step inside, your feet linger as a black door down the hallway catches your attention.

"What's that room?" you ask, curiously.

Your feet taking off without you.

"Oh, little dove! Wait!" Yoongi cries out as you step in front of the door.

It has a fingerprint key to it. Seems secretive.

"This is just a room of my hobbies and stuff," he sounds absolutely embarrassed.

His hand rubs at the back of his neck and you notice how his irises shake with nerves, looking from the room and then back to you.

"Show me," you whisper as he leans against the wall.

He hums unsurely.

You sound so excited about it.

"It's really not for you to see." he replies.

Frowning, you tug on the door handle which gives no reaction.

"Come on. It can't be that bad. Unless, you have dead bodies in here," you joke.

Rolling his eyes, he sighs gently. He doesn't want to see you frown. So, against his better judgement -- he puts his thumb on the fingerprint scanner. The noise echoes throughout the silent floor and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"It's a BDSM room. I've never used it though," he says quickly, opening up the door.

"Whoa," you whisper as the room is opened up to you.

Automatic lights turn on as you step inside.

The walls are all black marble and the large bed that sits at the far end of the room is mocha brown.

You can tell the sheets are satin and luxurious even from far away.

But, the main thing that catches your attention is the multitude of cabinets and drawers that line the walls almost artistically.

Yoongi watches you with nervous eyes. He watches how you run your hand over the wooden fixtures that line the walls.

"What's this?" you find yourself asking.

You point to a large black X figure that is attached to the wall.

The CEO rubs his hands together nervously, pushing himself off of the door frame to walk closer.

"It's an X cross. You hop on these footrests and you get shackled to it," he sounds uncomfortable as he speaks.

"Cool." you reply, setting down the book to hop on.

"Whoa! No! You're pregnant, be careful!" he whines, putting his hands on your rib cage to keep you up against the cross.

"So? Just because I'm pregnant, doesn't mean I'm broken," you quip, putting your hands on his shoulders.

"Little dove," he admonishes softly.

He looks up at you on the cross and the dirtiest things begin to flit through his mind.

Imagining you naked, with your hands and feet shackled to the cross. Seemingly incapacitated as he strokes your pretty pussy.

What would it be like if your belly was bigger? He'd be able to rub--

"Get down," he begs.

Rolling your eyes, you hop off of the cross.

"You're no fun," you quip, walking around him to the wall of riding crops and canes.

"I am fun!" he retorts, folding his arms once more.

"What's this?" you ask softly, your fingers running through the multitude of leather strands that hang from the top.

"It's a flogger," the father of your child mumbles through gritted teeth.

He sighs softly as you pull it off the wall.

Rearing back, you snap the flogger to your hand and your palm sings with the devilish sting.

"Ow," you whisper softly.

Yoongi watches your eyebrows contort in pain and he's quick to rip the toy from your grasp. It tugs at his heart.

"Stop. You're going to hurt yourself," he admonishes, once more.

The way he speaks, even if it's supposed to come out gruff and annoyed, it just sounds caring and worried. Which is why you're perfectly okay with continuing along with your nosy inquiries.

"Do you like to flog people? Or hit them with this?" you ask, taking a large, thick cane off of the wall.

The way he sighs, it makes you smirk.

"Depends on the situation. How bratty the sub is being," he throws the word bratty right at you and it makes you smile.

"So would you be caning me or?" you quip as you turn to him.

His tongue licks at his lips at the prospect of it.

"I would be fucking wrecking you until you're begging," he mumbles, pulling the thick cane out of your hand.

"So let's play," you whine, tugging his hand over to the bed.

His eyes flutter shut and it takes all of his inner strength to pull away from you.

"You're pregnant. Stop it," he chides, hanging the toys back on their appointed shelves.

"No fun," you mumble, sitting down on the bed.

The bed hugs you comfortingly and you hum in appreciation laying back.

Turning to you, the father of your child watches as your shirt rides up. He can see the small little bump beginning to form and he clenches his teeth at the sight.

"I have to work," he reminds you, watching you run your hands over the satin sheets.

"Go ahead. I'll be here, playing with myself. You have vibrators?" you giggle as his eyebrows furrow.

"Come on, little dove," he says, already heading to the doorway.

With a small giggle you stand up, you'll break him. In time.

It's difficult for Yoongi to pay attention to work, once again. His eyes keep drifting to you over his laptop. You finished the book in the first hour that you've been in his office.

Now scrolling through your phone, you pretend not to notice how he stares at you over the lip of his computer.

The light from your phone highlights your swollen breasts and the CEO finds himself shifting in his seat a multitude of times.

Just thinking about you in that room is doing things to him. He constantly tries to swat away the thought of having you in that room. But it's becoming more difficult as the hours go on.

What's so wrong with having sex with pregnant women?

There's really nothing wrong with it per se. But he feels like they should be more paternal, no? You're carrying a child, would you also be indulging in sexual acts?

He doesn't know how to feel anymore. Like he's thought countless times before, you're fucking with his head.

"This says that Doms and Subs have a contract," you speak aloud.

Yoongi huffs out gently, putting his hands over his face.

You're getting too obsessed with this.

"Sometimes," he replies softly.

"Do we need to have a contract?" you ask with a smile.

He snorts gently at how pleased you look.

"No, little dove. We're not having sex, so of course there is no need for a contract." he says through gritted teeth.

You are really something else.

Crossing your legs, you scroll through the website.

He tries to focus on the many words that are staring him in the face but he keeps looking back at you as your eyes continue to light up.

"Oh! Soft limits. Let's start here," you say happily.

Yoongi puts his hands in his hair, tugging softly on the strands.

He feels like he's going crazy.

"Y/N, please," he whispers, almost begging you.

"We promised each other that we would be truthful to one another."

Rolling his eyes, he replies. "Yes, in the sense that if either of us asks a question we would answer it honestly. Not in the sense that if you suddenly find yourself on a BDSM website, you feel compelled to tell me the truth about what soft limits you're setting for yourself in a non-existent dom slash sub relationship."

Scowling playfully, you roll your eyes.

"Well. My soft limits are as follows."

Yoongi sighs loudly, grabbing the glass of whisky off his desk to keep his thoughts at bay.

He feels his lips tugging upward as you look through the website.

So annoyingly cute sometimes.

"Breast bondage is a soft limit. Because they hurt a lot right now," you murmur.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, his eyes narrowing at you.

You're trying to rile him up. He can feel it.

"Little dove," he warns you as you lean closer to the desk.

"Nipple clamps, not sure if I'd be okay with that right now. Anal play, never done it so I'm not sure if I'd like it. Over the knee spanking, won't be able to do that soon."

Yoongi sips his whisky slowly, letting the warmth of the alcohol curl around his muscles.

"You've never had your ass played with before?" he asks, obviously intrigued.

Got him.

"No. I've only ever been with a few people before and they didn't seem into that sort of stuff," you reply.

He scoffs gently. Your ass is one for the ages, you should have been played with.

"Maybe after you give birth, I'll show you." he suggests above the lip of his glass.

"Sounds like a promise," you quip.

He smirks gently, leaning back into his chair. "Maybe, little dove."

"What are your limits?" you inquire, trying to push him more.

He hums, closing his laptop. Clearly, he won't be working anymore today.

"I usually only write hard limits. No fecal or piss play. No straight jackets. No pony play. Shit like that."

"I have no idea what any of that means besides the shit play," you reply, making him laugh.

"Why are you so obsessed with this all of a sudden?" Yoongi inquires, raising his eyebrow.

"Well it's something you enjoy, so I'm curious about it! You took an interest in my painting. And, I like the idea of getting interested in what you enjoy. You seem very safe and protective of your hobby and that's great!" you say happily, leaning against the desk.

The CEO hums gently at your kind words.

"You're so sweet," he mumbles, resting his chin on his hand.

Fine, he'll play along.

"Is fisting a soft limit or a hard limit?" he inquires.

Locking your phone, you turn your chair more towards him as he throws his feet up on the desk.

"I've never tried it before but it seems painful," you reply honestly to him.

His tongue slowly licks over his lips at the simple thought of you beneath him.

"What about butt plugs? Any preference?"

"Never tried them," you whisper, picking up your glass of water.

His lips sputter as you tilt your head.

This feels so free and so right. It's playful and fun. The sexual tension just adds to how normal this all feels.

"You haven't tried a lot of stuff, have you?" he asks, taking his feet off the table to stand.

"No actually, I haven't. I've always been kind of prude when it came to sex. Me and you in the back room was just a one off really. I don't really do that sort of thing," you explain truthfully.

He hums in agreement, rounding the desk. "So I'm special?"

You certainly think so.

"Maybe," you whisper, your head tilting as he steps behind your chair.

"If I show you my hobby one time, will you leave it alone?" he asks gently, bending down to your ear.

His breath is warm against your now flushing skin.

Since getting pregnant, when you aren't feeling sick or tired, you've found yourself overwhelmingly horny. It's almost a fucking sin.

"I don't think you'll be able to satiate yourself after just one time," you quip, feeling his hands run over your shoulders.

"Oh, little dove. I have the patience and strength to keep myself at bay." he replies, his lips drifting over the shell of your ear.

Yoongi thinks if he can just get this out of his system once then it'll be safer. He's been without sex for a while now and he's perfectly okay with keeping it that way. He'll just take back some wank bank footage and then he won't have to continue thinking about it.

"Will you be gentle with me?" you find yourself asking, your voice sounds small and it makes Yoongi's cock begin to harden beneath his briefs.

"I'll take very good care of you, little dove. I promise." he says, holding out his hand.

You feel excitement starting to creep through you. You've been thinking about this for a while now, if you're being honest. When you had sex with him in that back room, it was the greatest sexual experience you've ever had.

Taking his hand, you find him smiling down at you.

"Come on, little dove. Time is money."

His voice is more playful this time around and it makes you giggle. Winking at you, he tugs you out of the large office.

"We'll go by the color system for today, okay?" the father of your child asks softly, unlocking the secret room with his fingerprint.

"Color system?" you ask, gently.

He hums in agreement, running his hands over your sides as the door shuts behind him.

Bending down, his eyes flicker to your lips.

God, he hasn't kissed you in so long. Is this something else he can indulge in just for today?

Taking shallow breaths, his hand cups your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the softness, breath hitching as you wait patiently.

This feels so right.

Without a second thought, he presses his lips to yours.

You've almost forgotten what he tastes like. You've forgotten how excited and on edge you were in that back room.

Groaning against your lips, the tip of his tongue traces the seam for you to part for him.

His hands grip at the globes of your ass. "Jump." he whispers against your lips.

Doing as told, you mewl into the kiss. You wrap your legs around his strong waist, hands carding through his hair.

His tongue is rough over yours, taking the small gasps and moans you give to him freely.

Yoongi walks towards the bed, laying you down gently as he climbs over you.

Pulling away from you, his lips are red and raw. His eyes are hooded with lustful intentions.

You've both been thinking about this for a while now.

"What do you say to me if you want to play?" he asks, sitting up.

Your eyes trail over his body, finally landing on his erection that strains almost painfully through his pants.

Licking your lips, your mind completely goes blank.

"Little dove, you answer me when I'm talking to you. Or have you forgotten?" Yoongi asks, running his hands over your clothed legs.

Your mouth opens to reply but it isn't fast enough for the CEO.

Pinching your inner thigh just hard enough to cause a reaction, he smirks as you squeal softly.

"Answer me, little dove. Or I'll go back to my office and we can forget all of this playful fun," he threatens.

Pouting up at him, he simply chuckles.

"Daddy." you whisper.

"That's it." he replies, bending back down to kiss you.

You can feel your loins beginning to curl and unfurl with hopeful desires.

"Take off your clothes only on the upper half of your body. I wanted you stripped by the time I get back to this bed," Yoongi's voice is dominating as he whispers against your lips.

Reaching up to kiss him once more, you find him already pulling away.

"You're not going to fuck me?" you ask, quickly taking off your clothes to accommodate his words.

"No, little dove. You're pregnant," he reminds you, digging through a drawer for rope.

You roll your eyes at his words. It's always pregnant this or pregnant that.

"It's perfectly safe to have sex while I'm pregnant y'know," you tell him hopefully as you unhook your bra.

"I'm sure it is, little dove." he replies softly.

Once he finds rope that he thinks is suitable, he tugs it in his hands a few times to hear the fabric snapping back onto itself.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine, your heart starts to beat faster with excitement.

"Are you naked for me?" he asks, focusing his eyes on the many toys that hang on the wall.

"Yes," you reply, breathlessly.

He's afraid to turn around. What if he falls deeper into his lustful ways for you if he sees you so bare before him?

He has this unrelenting fascination with you so far. Something that truly makes his palms sweat. You're so good and kind, so beautiful and understanding.

What if he just continues to fall? He doesn't know how he'll be able to cope or cushion himself.

He musters his strength.

Turning around, he takes in your swollen breasts, your veins visible against your skin from how huge they're already becoming. Your nipples are bigger, darker and puffy.

"Oh fuck," he curses under his breath.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He's not going to be able to keep this at a one off at this rate.

"Are they okay?" you ask nervously, looking down at your breasts as he continues to ogle.

"You're gorgeous," he assures you, walking slowly back over to the bed.

With the sweet compliment soothing you, you find it easy to lay back.

Drifting his thumb slowly over his bottom lip, he takes you in.

"Take off your pants," he instructs as he sits on the edge of the bed.

He watches you do as told, his eyes drifting over your breasts to the small bump that's growing slowly but surely.

You're a vision to look at.

Unfortunately for Yoongi, he's already becoming attached to you in everything.

"Give me your panties," he commands.

"I think you have a panty kink," you quip, throwing your underwear on his lap.

Chuckling, he stands up putting your panties into his back pocket.

"Just your panties, little dove. We're going to go over some instructions before we play, okay?" he asks, running his free hand over your bare side.

The warmth of his hand makes your body go rigid. You nod understandingly as he bends down to kiss you.

"When I'm with a new sub or," his thumb grazes over your cheek as he pulls away from you, "a very beautiful mother of my child. There needs to be rules."

"I'm listening," you reply, earnestly.

"We're going to use the color system. Green means it's okay to keep going. Yellow means to proceed with caution. Red means to stop. If you say red at any point, that's it. It's over. We don't have to play anymore. If it gets too much you have to make sure you tell me red, do you understand?" his voice is gentle as he explains.

"Alright, that sounds fair." you say as he lets the rope fall loose from his hand.

"Can I tie you up? Is that okay with you?"

The prospect is too good to deny. You nod with a small smile, sticking out your wrists.

"Repeat your colors for me while I tie you up, little dove." he instructs, pulling your arms over your head.

"Green for okay, yellow for slow and red for stop." you repeat for him, the neediness starting to seep into your voice.

"Good girl," he praises you.

Pulling the rope tighter, he makes sure you have breathing room but not enough for you to get out.

"You're good at tying knots," you compliment, tugging on the restraints.

Yoongi chuckles as he slips down the bed to tie your feet. "Just call me a boy scout."

With a giggle, you wiggle your hips playfully as he travels south.

His eyes narrow up at you, a glint of happiness flitting through them as he smiles. He nips at your outer thigh, earning a gentle groan from your lips.

He doesn't even need to watch how fast his fingers move to tie you up, he could honestly do it with one hand behind his back. Instead, he decides to focus on you. To focus on how you squirm for him and how shallow your breathing is. He watches your chest heave up and down, your nipples turning into stiff peaks at his longing gaze.

He wants to remember this, remember all of this because this is a one off. And, he has to remember it as such.

Hopefully.

"You okay?" he asks, finishing up the knot tying.

"More than okay," you reply.

"We're going to try to train your orgasms, little dove. Make it so that your orgasms belong to me and only to me," his voice is gruff, the prospect of having your orgasms to himself and only himself is sending him into overdrive.

"You can do that?" you find yourself asking.

Situating himself between your stretched legs, he begins to smirk.

"I can, if you want to give your orgasms to me. Do you want that?" he asks, brushing some hair behind your ear.

While he has been caged off, you haven't been. You understand him more than ever and it would be special to have him control something so powerful. He's already given you a child, given you somewhere so grandiose to live. You can give him your carnal pleasure.

So you nod.

"That's my girl," he whispers with a wink.

Bending down, his lips trace over your jaw. He takes in every hitched breath and every signal of rigidity as it sets into your bones.

"Your tits look so good." he compliments, earning a gentle gasp from you.

Your head turns, wanting to give him more access to the column of your neck.

"You're going to need patience, little dove. You need to give yourself over to me completely, do you understand?"

You can feel your arousal beginning to soak the sheets beneath you, your hands strain against the ropes begging to feel his body. "Y-Yes Daddy, I understand," you whisper softly.

"Good. I'm going to let you cum once and you tell me when you're about to cum, do you understand me?" he asks, pulling away from the shell of your ear to lock eyes with you.

You feel yourself falling into his mocha irises, can feel yourself wanting to give him your everything. "Yes."

"Good," he kisses your lips gently.

His lips continue to kiss over your skin, your hips bucking into the air for more.

"Behave or I'll stop," he threatens against the column of your throat.

Your eyes flutter shut, lips pressing into a straight line as he gently suckles on your skin.

He leaves small cherry blossom petals in his wake as he continues to lavish on your skin.

This training is something Yoongi has always been good at. He's always thrived from being in a position of power. But for once, he has an overwhelming urge to please. Something he hasn't felt… well ever.

Moving his hands up your side, you gasp loudly as he gently cups your breasts.

He shivers at how full they feel in his hands, how swollen and sensitive the skin is beneath his palms.

"Oh, Daddy!" you moan as he squeezes softly.

"What's your color, little dove?" he can barely contain himself above you, his cock is so hard and throbbing within the confines of his jeans.

"G-Green, Daddy. Feels so fucking good!" you whine, your head lolling back as he continues to squeeze.

"Fuck, I bet it does," he whispers, kissing over your collarbone.

Pulling away from you, he can see how flushed your skin is. He can see how swollen your clit is already becoming and he knows that he can make you cum easily without even having to touch you.

"You're a little slut, aren't you?"

You whimper at his words. It takes you back to the night you were together.

You enjoyed hearing how dirty he could talk. How perfectly degrading his words can be.

"Your slut, Daddy. I promise," you moan out as his knees knock your legs open wider.

"Yeah, I bet you are. Pregnant with my baby and letting me take your pleasure how I see fit," he mumbles.

Biting your bottom lip, your body shudders as his thumbs swipe over your sensitive nipples.

You gasp loudly, your body undulating beneath him.

"I've-I've wanted you to touch me for so long," you moan, tugging on the restraints.

His lips turn upwards into a smirk at your words. He's been wanting it for a while too.

"Me too," he replies truthfully.

His thumbs and index fingers nibbley roll your nipples.

Trailing his eyes over your body, he can see how much arousal is trailing down your perineum and soaking the bed. His eyes flutter shut at how gorgeous and vulnerable you are beneath him.

He lets his lips trail over the curve of your breast, releasing one to reach for the apex of your thighs.

Your body shudders under his touch, preening for more.

Picking up your spilt arousal on his fingers, he suckles on them. God, he almost forgot what you taste like.

"Jesus Christ." he mumbles.

His tongue peeks out, flicking quickly at your stiff peaked nipple.

Your gasps and moans goad him on, he can barely pay attention as your breath becomes shorter and stunted.

You can feel the band within you tightening.

You would have never thought that you could be on the brink of an orgasm with Yoongi just playing with your breasts.

"D-Daddy, I'm so close." you whine, spreading your legs wider with hopes your center will be touched.

He hums in agreement as he forsakes one breath for the other.

He makes a mental note of how sensitive you are for him.

Suckling your nipple into his mouth, he moans against your skin.

"Daddy, I'm cumming!" you moan loudly, your back bowing off of the bed as white hot pleasure courses through your bones.

He pulls off of you, rolling and pinching your nipples with his fingers until you're orgasming beneath him.

Your ears ring, mouth going dry as you babble his name incessantly.

"Good girl, little dove." he praises and he raises an eyebrow as you squirt onto the sheets below you.

He takes all of this in. Every little reaction you had to his advances, all of your ques to elude to your orgasm. You'd be very easy to train.

He waits patiently for you to come down from your orgasm, stroking your skin lovingly.

"What's your color, beautiful?" he asks softly, palming the erection in his pants.

"G-Green." you whisper, already wanting more.

You don't want this to end, and you don't want this to be a one off.

"Well aren't you just such a good little sub," he jeers, bending down to kiss you.

You could get drunk off of his kisses. They make you feel on top of the world. You want to please him, really and truly please him.

"Can I suck your cock, Daddy?" your voice is so innocent as you ask.

He groans gently, cupping your cheek. "No, little dove. That isn't a part of this." he replies, against your lips.

His hand drifts from your cheek to between your breasts before finally situating over your stomach.

He swallows thickly, feeling how hard your womb is beneath his hand.

"Please? If it's a one off, you should get pleasure, too." you suggest coyly, thrusting your breasts closer to his face.

His gummy smile appears then, almost breaking your fragile heart. "I'm already getting pleasure from seeing you beneath me."

His thumb drifts slowly over the almost invisible bump on your stomach.

You begin to pout, tugging roughly on the restraints that hold you bound.

"Yoongi, please?" you whisper, eyebrows furrowing as you beg.

He sighs gently, his bottom lip purchasing between his teeth as he thinks.

He really shouldn't. This isn't right.

"You're pregnant," his excuse is sounding weaker and weaker every time he says it.

"So? Doesn't mean I can't suck your dick, Daddy. Wouldn't you like to feel my breasts in your hands while I suck you off?"

He groans gently at your questions, you can see his cock throbbing at your words.

"Little dove," he says breathlessly.

"I'll swallow for you, Daddy. Let you cum in my mouth." you whisper, laying back on the bed.

His eyes roll back at the prospect of it all.

"Maybe when my tits get bigger and filled with milk, you can suckle on them."

"Jesus, when the fuck did your mouth get so filthy?" he wants to sound appalled but it comes out amused and turned on, as it should.

"Guess you'll have to clean it out. Let me suck your cock." you reply with a smirk.

"Oh fuck." he grumbles, unbuttoning his pants.

"This is a one off!" he reminds you gruffly, tugging down his pants and brief.

Untying your hands, he sighs gently to himself. He's going to give you whatever the fuck you want from now on, isn't he? What the fuck is wrong with him?

As you wait patiently for him to finish untying you, you stare at his cock as it rests against his stomach.

Even on the first night you were together, it's still a beautiful sight.

"This is supposed to be training." he mutters to himself.

You giggle to yourself as your wrists become free.

With over zealous confidence, you press your hands to his chest. Shoving him down, he laughs loudly.

"Watch yourself, little dove!" he chides, holding your hips steady as you straddle him.

You wrinkle your nose playfully at him and he can only smirk.

Man, you're infectious.

It feels good. Like, tingles inside of oneself and giddiness in spades.

Gripping both hands onto his shirt, you raise your eyebrows.

"This shirt was made in Italy." he warns you.

With a careless shrug you rip it open, hearing the buttons pop and scatter along the marble floor.

He shakes his head with a chuckle as you stare down at his toned body.

God, he's so fucking hot.

Your eyes drift over the planes of his abs and they get softer as you look at the small circular burn marks from cigarettes.

"Wait," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.

You keep your eyes on his face as you bend down.

"I don't normally let people touch my-- oh, God," he cries out as your lips drift over his skin.

Your lips feel healing against his skin. His hands grip at your sides rougher as you take your time worshipping his stomach.

His breathing is ragged and his palms are becoming sweaty.

"You're very handsome," you say, kissing over the biggest burn.

His body shivers and undulates under your touch.

He's never felt such odd comfort before.

"O-Okay. Little dove, e-enough," he practically begs.

Maybe he needs training too. Training on how to be loved.

You take pity on him, leaving his burn marks alone for now.

He sighs gratefully, bringing his hand to his face to wipe away tears he didn't know had even arrived.

"You're so sweet, little dove." he mumbles, carding his fingers through your hair.

You smile up at him kindly, the act making his heart beat quicker inside of his chest.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you run your lips over his long length earning a hiss through clenched teeth from the father of your child below you.

"Fuck," he curses, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

Wrapping your hand around his length, you watch precum begin to pearl incessantly at the seam of his mushroom head.

You look up at him for confirmation and he smirks at your subservience.

"Very good, little dove. You may." he says, gripping your hair tighter with anticipation.

Swirling your tongue around the head, you take immense pleasure in the way he groans. The groan is long and stunted and you know you're pleasing him already.

"That's it, baby."

The pet name slips so freely and he doesn't take it back as you bow your head down farther.

"Fuuuck, keep going." he instructs.

Licking his tongue over his lips, he curses gently beneath his breath as you begin a rhythm.

Stroking whatever doesn't fit in your mouth, you can hear words of praise leaving his lips like a prayer.

Your arousal has started to drip down your thighs at this point and Yoongi stares for the longest time, dying to be inside of you.

"Take it all. Like you did the night we made our baby," he commands.

With a gentle moan, you swallow around him. Gagging and sputtering on his cock, your vision becomes blurry with tears.

"Fuck, you're so good at sucking my cock. Jesus Christ!" he moans loudly, his eyes rolling back as you hollow your cheeks around him.

His free hand comes up to palm your swollen breast, being as gentle as he can in the throes of his pleasure.

"You're all mine, huh? I can just take you up here whenever the fuck I want, can't I?" he asks through gritted teeth.

His mouth is getting looser as his pleasure takes over.

You moan in agreement, getting sloppier on his cock. Precum and spittle stream down your chin as you continue to please him.

"You're such a bad girl, little dove. You're too good at sucking my cock, gonna make me want you over and over again."

That's the plan.

With a gentle whine, you let him into the recesses of your throat. His head falls back to the bed, his hips gyrating and thrusting on their own.

"Little pregnant slut, begging to be full of me when she's got my kid inside her. That what you want? You want to be my pregnant slut?"

You moan loudly against his cock as he begins to precum once more.

Tugging his hand off of your breast, you pull it to your parted thighs.

He curses loudly, feeling how much of your arousal is soaking his fingers. He begins to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, feeling it throb beneath the pads of his fingers.

"You're gonna kill me." he threatens through gritted teeth.

Rocking your hips in time with his fingers, you practically lose yourself when his cock begins to throb for release in your throat.

"Squeeze my thigh when you're about to cum." he warns you and you moan in reply.

Everything about this is so perfect and so yours.

You forget everything going on besides just the two of you in this bed.

It's like it's meant to be.

"Messy little thing," he praises, letting your hair go to wipe your chin.

Sitting up on one elbow, he watches you in your entranced pleasure.

He can feel himself coming to an end but he edges himself, pushing away his orgasm until you do.

With a loud whine, you squeeze his thigh harshly begging to cum for him.

"Uh uh. You wait until Daddy says you can cum."

You mewl sadly around his cock, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Countdown from ten and then cum." he instructs.

Doing as told you count slowly, breathing shallowly through your nose as he continues to fuck up into your mouth.

Reaching ten, you squeeze his thigh again.

"Good girl. Cum."

On his command you cum around his cock. Moaning and undulating as you see stars.

He curses loudly, feeling the vibrations in your throat around his pulsing cock.

"Swallow." he groans out, falling back onto the bed as his thrusts become sloppy.

With a few more thrusts, streams of his cum meet the back of your throat.

You swallow diligently, adoring the taste of him with a whine.

He groans breathlessly, his eyes fluttering shut as he becomes boneless on the bed.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" he asks, putting his hand over his heart.

Swallowing all of him, you let your mouth hang open. He grips at your chin, pulling your face down to his eye level.

"Good," he replies in a whisper.

He sighs loudly, running his hands through his hair.

What just fucking happened?

How did that just turn into some of the best foreplay he's ever had?!

"That was a one off?" you quip, sitting back against the headboard.

He rolls his eyes, sitting up at the end of the bed.

"That was a one off?" he retorts with a whiny voice, grabbing his briefs.

Your mouth falls open as he stands up off the bed.

"You're mocking me!?" you gasp loudly.

"Shut up." he mumbles with a chuckle, bending down to kiss you softly.

His eyes widen at how normal that is before he's pulling away quickly.

"This was a bad idea!" he says quickly, grabbing his pants.

You watch how nervous he is and it makes you sad. He doesn't even know what normal is.

"Was it a bad idea? Or are you just scared?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He picks up his shirt, looking at the broken buttons.

"This shirt was from Italy! I had it hand stitched by a ninety eight year old woman living in Florence!" he yells, shaking the shirt in the air.

"Well buy a new one, you love buying stuff." you suggest.

"She could be dead before I get my next order in!" he replies, shaking his fist quicker.

"Are you ignoring my question because you're embarrassed?" you ask, tilting your head.

He grunts angrily, busying himself with untying the knots.

"Miss Therapist, keep your questions to yourself!" he cries out, giving up on the knot untying.

He paces back and forth, his hands in his hair.

"You could kiss me again, that might be an idea." you suggest.

He grits his teeth, his mind running a mile a minute.

This was just a bad idea all together. He should have NEVER given in! He should have just ignored it like he always does. He's still falling, maybe even faster now.

Fuck!

You can see his eyes flickering back and forth nervously.

"Okay!" you cry out, clapping your hands.

Jumping off of the bed, you step into his path. He stares into your eyes as you look up at him.

Grabbing your wrist, he struggles against you slightly. You tuts your tongue, placing his hand on your stomach.

He looks up at the ceiling, pieces of black hair falling into his eyes.

"It's not wrong that we did what we did. If anything it was nice. Don't let your guilt eat at you," you tell him.

He sighs loudly.

"I just don't… know how to feel. You know how I get by now…" he replies softly.

"I do know. And, that's why I'm telling you it's okay," you promise.

He closes his eyes for a mere second. Looking back down at you, his eyes open.

His gaze fixes to his hand on your stomach. Then to your swollen breasts which are now covered in small marks made by him.

"We're being truthful with one another still?" he asks.

"Always," you reply earnestly.

He takes a moment, pulling you over to the bed.

"This just feels right, it feels too good… I've never felt this or had this before. And, when I thought I was getting it, well… look at that catastrophe." his voice falls flat, looking down at the marble floor.

"You still have to learn what happiness is, Yoongi. You don't have to be afraid to feel something new. And, if you do then you can tell me all about it. I'm just across the hall." you whisper, nudging your shoulder against his.

Warmth is the first thing he feels after he hears your words.

"This wasn't a one off, was it?" he mutters, earning a laugh from you.

"Doesn't have to be." you reply as he puts his shirt on.

"What if I get the urge to kiss you?" he sounds shy as he asks you.

"Then just do it. You have my permission," you say simply.

He smiles to himself gently, his eyes drifting over your naked body.

"Well, that sounds okay then." he says softly.

With a hum, you kiss his cheek.

"What if I want to kiss all the time?" he asks, pulling your clothes away from your hands.

"Well, maybe not all the time," you jeer, laying back on the bed.

"But you said I have to learn happiness, and maybe kissing makes me happy."

You giggle at his sweetness. "I think you're going crazy."

"Me too." he whispers, bowing his head down to kiss you.

As you continue to kiss slowly, your stomach rumbles hungrily.

"Someone's hungry." Yoongi mumbles against your lips.

Smirking against his lips, you feel your clothes return to your lap.

"Can I have my underwear?" you ask, putting your bra on.

"No. They're mine." he replies, helping you put on your pants.

"What, are you making a Y/N pantie collection?" you quip, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your shirt.

Yoongi takes in this moment, feeling how compassionate and fun you are. How absolutely radiating with beauty you are.

"If you're a good girl, maybe." he jeers back, helping you stand up.

Snorting gently, you roll your eyes.

"Can't believed you ripped my fucking shirt, like a pregnant wild animal." he mumbles, motioning his arm for you to walk first.

Laughing together, you open the room door.

Standing before you is Maya, a hand on her hip and an eyebrow quipped up to the sky.

"Jesus!" you both yell at the sight of her.

With a small smirk, she simply shrugs.

"Madam. Sir." she says, happiness enrapturing her voice as she takes off down the hall to his office with a feather duster in hand.

Yoongi snorts loudly, tugging his shirt closed.

If this is what happiness is, he might just be okay with delving into it.

"Let's go get you some food, little dove."

Next Chapter ----->

Third Wheeling Taglist - @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @jooniebuggy, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx, @bt21chim, @flowerboyhobi, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

#third wheeling #ficswithluv #btscreatorscorner #btswritingcafe #thebtswritersclub #ceo!yoongi #ceo!au #ceo!bts #yoongi smut #dom!yoongi #sub!reader

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atlabeth · 3 years

Note

Well first off I just want to say congrats on your 200 followers!!!!! You deserve it. In your prompt list I want to do #32. Can you do a Sokka x fem reader where she is Toph’s older sister and they start dating. It can be apart of the ATLA timeline or modern it’s up to you 😊

come back safe - sokka x fem!beifong reader

summary: you and sokka have to part ways in ba sing se, but he’s not letting you go without saying his piece.

a/n: im just gonna assume that you meant 32 from the fluff list, if you meant angst or general then im sorry!! but thank you sm for requesting :-) and a personal thank you for always sending in asks, your support for transferred means the world!!!

also i did this surprisingly fast?? me getting a request done in a reasonable amount of time?? who am i ???

wc: 1.2k

warning(s): some sad sokka moments and some very intense dramatic irony lmao, but mostly fluff

32. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t plan on doing that.”

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

Parting from your friends was never easy. Ever since you had run away from home with your sister, Team Avatar had become a surrogate family, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Toph was a whirlwind in her own way, but Aang, Katara, and Sokka all got her in ways that your parents never had, not to mention how you were finally able to be yourself away from the world of Earth Kingdom nobility. You couldn’t offer Aang any of the earthbending wisdom you sister had in spades, but your skill with blades made you a valuable asset nonetheless.

That connection made it so much harder to separate.

After leaving Gaoling, you had never been apart from the group for longer than a couple of days. But visiting your mother would take at least a week, not to mention everyone else was going off in their own directions — Aang to visit a guru to help control the Avatar State, Sokka to see his dad, Katara staying in the city to aid the Earth King. You would all be saying goodbye for an unprecedented amount of time.

To put it in simple terms? You were freaking out.

You and Toph had gone against direct orders from your parents to join the Avatar, and no sooner had you earned the support of the Earth King when you found out about the letter from your mother. It was.. strange, to say the least.

As Beifongs, you were held to impossible standards, and what the two of you did broke every single one of them. You were skeptical when you first read the letter to Toph, but she was so excited at the possibility of your parents finally coming to accept the two of you that you couldn’t say no.

After taking care of last minute affairs, you ended up back in your room to begin packing. You and your sister would be making the journey on foot, so you wanted to be prepared for anything that could happen — you might’ve just been going through the Upper Ring, but you had come to not discount anything in Ba Sing Se.

You finished folding the last of Toph’s clothes and closed the bag, and at that moment you heard a knock on the door. “It’s open!” you called as you moved onto your own pack. You glanced up to see your visitor, and the corner of your lips quirked up when you saw it was Sokka.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey yourself,” he said as he shut the door behind him. “Listen, do you have a moment to talk? Before you leave, I mean. I know you’re on a tight schedule and all.”

“I always have a moment for you.” You set another article of clothing in your bag and clapped your hands together softly as you turned to face him. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about where you’re going. You know, you and Toph going to see your mom.”

“Oh, yeah. Exciting, isn’t it? It’ll be an interesting meeting.” You chuckled, a notion lacking in mirth. “Wonder what she’s going to say after we gave up our entire lives to help the Avatar without their permission.”

“Just.. whatever goes on, be safe, okay? If you get hurt out there, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

The sincerity in his voice shocked you a bit, but you gave him a light punch on the shoulder, choosing to shoot back in your usual joking manner. “Well, it’s a good thing I don’t plan on doing that.”

“I’m serious, Y/N.”

You smiled and shrugged as you folded another tunic and placed it into your bag. “Sokka, we’re just going to the edge of the upper ring. You have nothing to worry about!”

He sighed and shook his head. “Look. I don’t have the best track record with people that I’m close to. I couldn’t save my mom, and I couldn’t protect our tribe, and I couldn’t save Yue. It’s like the moment I start to care about anyone, something bad happens to them, and I can’t do anything to stop it. And now you’re going off to the city to see your mom, and even though it’s so close, I just can’t shake this feeling, and I— I don’t know what I’ll do with myself if something happens to you too.”

Your brows creased as the full weight of his words hit you. “Sokka.. are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

He stepped closer and took your hands in his, those ocean eyes holding a softness you had never seen before. “I care about you, Y/N, so much that it hurts. So I know it sounds ridiculous, but I need you to promise me that you’ll come home safe.”

There was only a moment’s hesitation before you tugged on his hands to bring him even closer, your eyes fluttering shut as your lips met his.

“I care about you too,” you responded quietly, a small smile gracing your features. “And I promise I’ll be safe. Just for you.”

“Good.” He smiled as well and gave you another soft kiss, one that quickly became more heated as you got lost in each other. You could feel the pure emotion, the sadness, that he poured into it, and that feeling made you want to give this boy everything in the world. You had almost tuned out the world completely until the door was pushed open and Aang’s voice rang through the air.

“Sokka, are you almost ready? I saw you come in h— oh, spirits, I’m so sorry!”

You and Sokka immediately separated, jumping apart from each other so quickly you nearly tripped over your own feet. You quickly gathered yourself and leaned against the table your bags were set on, giving Aang an easy-going smile in an attempt to cover up your breathlessness.

“Aang!” Your voice was unnaturally high as you used your hands to talk. “He was just… checkin’ in on me. Making sure that I was ready. Just.. nothing going on here. Just.. two friends.. bein’ friends. And.. gettin’ ready. As friends.”

You could hear Sokka snort behind you as he tried to keep his composure as well — Aang, meanwhile, was as red as a fire ferret as he began to back away.

“You know, I can just come back later! Or you can come to me, Sokka. Whenever you’re ready. I won’t tell anyone, I promise!” He gave you guys one last slightly panicked smile then darted off, causing the two of you to dissolve into laughter.

You glanced at Sokka with a shy smile as you felt your cheeks burning up, and that just made him laugh even harder. “Think he’ll keep that promise?”

You sighed happily and shrugged. “You know what? I don’t even care. And I think I’ll try extra hard to stay alive if it means there’s more kisses like that in the future.”

Sokka gave you a heart-melting smile and walked over to the door. “Just come home safe, and you’ll get all the kisses you want.”

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin

#atlabeth 200 #avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar #atla fic #avatar fic #avatar the last airbender fic #avatar x reader #sokka #sokka avatar #sokka atla #sokka x reader #sokka x y/n #sokka x you #reader insert #sadie writes #tiffanyy-21

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luvidzy · 3 years

Text

☆ genre: fluff

☆ pairing: kim seungmin x reader

☆ summary: an anonymous person is writing poetry and you are determined to get to the bottom of it

☆ word count: 3.2k

You honestly hadn’t even noticed at first. You weren’t really into the school paper, so you didn’t read it very often unless Felix decided there was something interesting you just had to know. Which is exactly how you found out about your secret admirer posting about you in the paper.

“Y/N, you have to see this!” Felix’s voice rang out as he slid into the seat next to you. You looked up, less than thrilled to be interrupted in the middle of trying to study for your Greek Classics test tomorrow, but you couldn’t stop yourself from setting your pencil down at Felix’s excited expression.

“Yes, Felix?” You asked, trying to hide the exasperation in your voice. If Felix noticed, he didn’t let him affect his excitement as he pulled the school paper out from under his arm, unrolled it and smacked it down on the table in front of you.

Your eyes scanned the front page, trying to figure out what Felix was so eager to show you, but nothing stood out. There was an article about the softball team, an article about an upcoming concert by 3racha, and a column that was talking about new things to do on campus. Nothing particularly interesting, and also nothing that you hadn’t seen before in the paper.

“So I was looking at the paper, and something caught my eyes. Come on, you have to read it,” Felix urged, his eyes sparkling as his freckles crinkled beside his eyes. You rested your forearms on the table, signalling to him that you were listening. Felix began to flip through the pages, before he landed on one of the latter ones.

His finger pointed out a small section of writing in the upper right hand corner. You squinted slightly, bringing the paper closer so you could look at the words. From what you could tell it, was a small three line poem that anyone would overlook if you weren’t paying attention. Lucky enough for you, Lee Felix always paid attention to the paper.

she sits so sweetly

sweater too big on her back

perfect to me

Eyes wondering over the black lettering, you felt your eyebrows furrow. There was no signature and not even a hint of who the poem might be addressed to. It seemed so out of place, yet your curiosity was growing every second.

“Does anyone know who wrote it?” You asked, turning to Felix. The blonde shook his head, pouting slightly.

“I asked Seungmin, but he said that they had just found it on one of the desks in an envelope with a note asking them to publish it,” Felix explained. You sighed, before sliding the paper away from you in favor of getting back to your studying.

“Well, keep me updated. Maybe next time we’ll know who this mysterious poet is, or maybe who he’s writing to.” Felix nodded eagerly, before pulling the paper back towards him and opening it up to read while you continued to study.

Of course, the poem wasn’t dropped there as Felix brought it up to your friends again that night as you hung out in Chan and Changbin’s apartment.

“It’s romantic, for sure. But I feel like it would be even more romantic if the person who it was for actually KNEW it was for them, ya know?” Jisung said as he threw a cheeto in the air and tried to catch it in his mouth. You stifled a giggle behind your hand as the cheeto flew back down and hit him in the face, causing him to pout.

“Maybe they wanted to test the waters? See if the person responded well before they actually did anything that might give them away?” Jeongin suggested, before stuffing some M&Ms into his mouth. Seungmin shrugged as he leaned back into his chair.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see if we get any more envelopes.” You sighed, smiling slightly as you leaned back into the couch you were sitting on.

“How nice it must be to have someone write poetry about you. I don’t think anyone would ever do that for me,” you exclaimed dramatically, throwing a hand onto your forehead for effect. Minho snorted as he threw a piece of candy at you, causing you to shriek slightly.

“Maybe, if you weren’t such a dramatic bitch, people would actually fall for you.” You stuck your tongue out at the older male, crossing your arms with a pout on your face. He was probably right, but there was no need for him to be rude about it.

The next time the mystery poet wrote in the paper, you found out about it way too late at night. Your phone began to buzz incessently as you tried to focus on your paper, to no avail. Finally you gave in and picked up the phone.

“What?”

“Y/N, where are you right now?” Felix’s voice was rushed and enthusastic, and it took all your strength not to groan. How could he be so energetic this late at night, when all you wanted to be doing was sleeping instead of studying for you stupid exam. Seungmin, who had been joining you in your study nights the past few days, looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m at the library with Seungmin. Why?” You replied, rolling your eyes to Seungmin who just snickered. He knew from personal experience that the only person who would give you this reaction so late at night was Felix.

“There was another poem posted in the newspaper! I was gonna tell you earlier but I couldn’t get a hold of you. Stay where you are, I’m on my way.” Felix rushed, before hanging up. You took the phone away from your ear, before looking to Seungmin with an accusing glare.

“There was another poem and you didn’t think to tell me?” You exclaimed, cringing as the librarian shushed you.

“I didn’t think you cared that much. Besides, why would I take away Felix’s gossip? What kind of friend would I be if I did that?” Seungmin chuckled at the pointed glare you sent his way, before you turned back to your paper to try and do some work before Felix got there.

You managed only another 2 paragraphs before Felix came bustling through the doors, trying to be as quiet and fast as possible. He finally crashed into the chair beside you, spreading the paper out before you. You shut your laptop as your eyes scanned the page, trying to find any sight of the poem.

“It’s a good one this time. You’ll have to see it,” Felix said, his grin more of a smirk as he flipped to the next page and pointed his finger at the lines of text that had been imprinted on the page. Your eyes immediately trained on it, scanning over the words in every line like a woman who’s seeing for the first time.

The girl in room 204

with the world on her shoulder

but a smile on her face.

I wish I could be your Atlas

and hold the sky up long enough

for you to take a breath and relax.

But despite the circumstances,

despite her exhaustion from

sleepless nights in the library,

her eyes glow as she talks

even if it is about the most mundane things.

I can’t help but stare and smile,

wondering if she will ever notice

that she means everything to me

and that I would gladly be condemned

to a lifetime of suffering if it meant

taking your pain for just a little while.

Your eyes widened as you looked at the poem, before you noticed the small print that was sitting underneath the beautiful lines.

-to the girl in room 204 of Levantar Hall

Your heart began to pound and you could practically feel the blood rushing to your face as you reread the tiny tag, the realization only setting in after the 5th time looking it over.

“Holy shit! Felix, these poems are addressed to me!” You exclaimed, turning to look at the bright smile of your best friend. He nodded eagerly as you turned back to the poem, rereading it with this newfound knowledge.

“And you said no one would ever write poetry for you,” Felix teased. You hit him lightly, before taking the paper and shoving it into your bag. You grabbed your laptop, slung your bag over your shoulder, before looking at the boys you were sitting with.

“Sorry gentleman, I have some sleuthing to do,” you said, before rushing out of the library, completely ignorant of the adoration in Seungmin’s eyes as he watched you go.

You spent the next few days waking up extra early and camping out outside of the newspaper office to try and catch the mystery person in action of dropping off their envelope, but you were always met with disappointment as Seungmin came in every morning with no sign of the admirer.

You were a bit bummed about it until you decided to read this week's newspaper and came upon a startling revelation.

Another poem.

so close yet so far

she would never know my love

it’s not my nature

You immediately called Felix, who agreed to meet up with you at the nearest cafe to discuss the poem. It wasn’t until you were sitting at a booth, coffees sitting in front of you that a revelation decided to hit you.

“Felix! I’m an idiot!”

“I mean, I know. But how so this time?” Felix said, causing you to throw a playful glare his way. You looked at the poem, before pointing at the poem in the paper and reading the words aloud.

“Okay?” Felix questioned, an eyebrow raised. You rolled your eyes at the thought of having to explain it all to Felix.

“I know whoever this is, Felix! The words insinuate it’s someone that I know, and someone who is not very affectionate with me!” You said proudly, happy that you had managed to narrow the list down. Felix nodded in understanding.

“So, that leaves only a few people, right? Cause all of your friends are pretty affectionate, outside of Minho and Seungmin, right?” Felix said, and you nodded, before freezing. Minho…. or Seungmin. You didn’t want to immediately jump to any conclusions, but you hadn’t seen anyone outside of the newspaper room outside of Seungmin and, being honest, you kind of wanted it to be him. You had had a crush on Kim Seungmin since freshman year of college and it would be like something out of a novel if it turned out to be him.

“Earth to Y/N! What’s the plan now?” Felix brought you from your daydream as you took a sip of the coffee in front of you. You furrowed your brows in thoughts, before her eyes lit up.

“I know! Felix, I just need to mention something incredibly specific to each of them! Any good writer would take advantage of the creative inspiration and incorporate it into their poem!” you announced, quite proud of yourself for coming up with the idea. Felix thought for a moment before he nodded.

“That’s so stupid, it might just work.” You pouted at his comment, before immediately looking at your phone, seeing the time, and stumbling to get up and rush out.

“I completely forgot I need to meet up with Minho for our project! Phase 1 starts right now!” You rushed out of the coffee shop, Felix laughing behind you as you nearly ran into the door due to your excitement.

True to your plan, while with Minho you brought up the extremely intricate topic of Andromeda and Perseus, a tale which you had learned about a month ago in your Greek Mythology class. You loved the story and thought it was incredibly interesting and a great muse if Minho turned out to be the secret admirer in the paper.

You didn’t see Seungmin for a few days, but that gave you time to think of the perfect topic to bring up to him. You wanted him to be your secret poet so badly and you wanted to make sure you gave him something that would definitely end up inspiring the next poem. It finally hit you as you sat with Seungmin and Jeongin in one of your University’s common areas.

“We learned about the story of Icarus in my Greek class the other day,” you started, making sure to look at Seungmin and see if he was listening to you. Sure enough he perked up, looking up to show you that he was taking in the words that were coming from your lips.

“Essentially, Icarus was the son of this great inventor, Daedalus, and they were both imprisoned in a tower. Daedalus made them 2 sets of wings to escape the tower, but they were made out of feathers and wax. When they were flying to escape, Icarus decided to not heed his fathers words and flew too close to the sun. The wax in his wings melted and he drowned. It’s a sad story, but it tells a tale of curiosity and how being too curious can lead to your downfall,” you explained, noticing how Seungmin had stopped writing as you told your story. Jeongin stared at you with a questioning glance.

“Why would Icarus fly so high if he knew he would die?”

“Well, I guess that depends on how you look at it. Some say he was just foolish and brash, but I personally like to think Icarus knew what would happen to him, but decided that the ability to be free and live in the excitement for even a moment was worth the consequences he knew would befall him.” Jeongin nodded, obviously thinking about the story. Satisfied with your work, you looked back down at your work, not noticing how Seungmin had flipped to a blank page in his notebook and was jotting down what seemed to be lines of poetry.

It was a few more weeks until another poem was posted, and you were starting to be concerned that the admirer had given up and decided to stop. That was until Felix, as expected, rushed into your dorm one day, completely scaring you out of your concentrated state.

“The poem was posted! And you’ll never believe it, but your plan actually worked!” Your stomach flip flopped as you realized that the moment of truth was about to be upon you. The minute you read the poem that laid in the ink of the school newspaper, you would know who was your secret admirer. Felix handed it to you and as your eyes went to the words, you silently prayed that it was the man you so desperately wanted it to be.

I am Icarus,

and she is the sun.

I don’t dare get to close,

even if her gleam,

bright against my rickety feathers,

warms me from the inside out.

I can never tell her how I feel,

I can never say a word,

but if I could I’d tell her she is golden to me.

That she is the heavens,

and I am just a mortal man

begging for her to let me in,

begging for her to let me love her,

begging for her to let me praise her,

because God knows that if I could

I would never stop spilling words of devotion to her.

I am Icarus,

and she is the sun.

My faux wings melt like candle wax

as I force myself closer to her,

because I’d rather fall out of her atmosphere,

then never experience her at all.

Your mouth dropped open as you finished reading the carefully crafted poem, your cheeks heating up and your mind running a mile a minute. It was Seungmin. Your secret admirer was Seungmin.

You rushed out of your dorm, the paper abandoned on your bed as Felix called after you, but you didn’t have any time to stop and explain. You glanced at your phone, realizing that if you made haste, you could catch Seungmin alone in the newsroom before he left for the day. You weaved through the halls of the journalism building, the only thing on your mind getting to the boy who had written some of the most beautiful words about you.

Seungmin was standing outside of the door, locking up the room for the day, when you barrelled down the hallways and basically tackled him into a hug. He grunted as your arms wrapped around him and he stood there for a moment, completely unsure of what to do in this situation. You didn’t give him any time to react though, pulling back and staring at him with a smile rivalling the sun.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Seungmin asked, genuinely confused. He had a long day and you weren’t making any sense right now. You rolled your eyes playfully, before looking at him with a smirk.

“That you were Icarus and I was the sun.” Seungmin’s mouth dropped open as you repeated the words he had written back to you. His usually sharp mind was completely blank as he tried to figure out what to say in response to you, but once again you didn’t give him time to think as you pulled him in for another hug.

This time, Seungmin allowed himself to wrap his arms around you in return and give you a squeeze. Months of pining after you and he was finally doing what he had fantasized about so many times. You nuzzled yourself into his neck, giggling as he let out a soft gasp, completely unused to the physical affection you were showing him.

“So, does this mean the poems worked?” Seungmin joked, his cheeks red as you pulled back again. You let out a laugh, nodding happily as you kept your arms slung around his neck.

“Of course! To be honest, I’ve had a crush on you for a while now. I was really glad when I found out it was you,” you said, staring at him sheepishly. He smiled softly at you, before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“What gave it away though?” He asked. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“You really think I just threw all that philosophical stuff about Icarus out there for nothing? I was hoping you’d pick up the clue and use it for some creative inspiration,” you said. Seungmin nodded, feigning a look of impressiveness.

“That’s pretty smart for you.” You punched him lightly in the arm, eliciting a chuckle from the boy as he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers together, leading you down the hallway.

“So, does this mean your poems are going to stop?” you asked, unable to hide the pout in your voice. Seungmin smiled a little bit, giddy that you liked his poems so much.

“I mean, at least the public poems. But I’ll write you all the poems you want in private. But they will be for your eyes only. Can’t let anyone know that I went soft for you,” he said jokingly. You let out a laugh, squeezing his hand as he laughed along with you.

Honestly, you didn’t mind if the poems were public or private. It was more than enough for you that Seungmin was holding your hand right now, speaking words of love that held more meaning than any poem about Icarus ever could.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #kim Seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin imagines #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin imagines #seungmin fluff #stray kids x reader

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atlas-private · 3 years

Note

Hello, how about a scenario with Mama Arc going to visit her son in Beacon, Jaune is happy to see his mother.

Meanwhile the entire Beacon staff is in a panic, because in Ozpin's words, he doesn't want to have to deal with that monster.

(You actually just handed me a way to introduce my version of Mama Arc. For this I thank you.)

---

Pyrrha: Jaune?

Jaune: Yeah?

Pyrrha: Is that woman currently holding the Headmaster in an Armlock your mother?

Jaune: Yup, she did mention something about "Opening a can of whoop ass on the man who threw me into a forest."

Nora: Was she also the one who basically beat the snot out of the faculty members that rushed her when she got off the Bullhead?

Jaune: The very same.

Ren: Why though?

Jaune shrugged.

Jaune: Something about a Bounty on her I guess, she used to tell me about how she used to run a gang after dropping out of Beacon.

Pyrrha: Your mom was a student and has an active bounty on her?

Jaune: I guess, my dad was the one who claimed it after he got her pregnant. Dad says it was a "Enemies to Lovers" type thing. Although my mom says it was because he was better looking and actually worth a fight than her own gang lackeys were, plus he promised that if she beat him he would do anything she wanted. You know, Arc's word?

Ren: That's rather concerning.

Pyrrha: But very interesting.

Nora: What's her name anyways?

Jaune: Oh, it's Lachaira. Grandma said something about it meaning Steel in a different language.

Nora: Cool!

The group continue to watch as Jaune's mom is tackled by a faculty member she had knocked out previously.

Pyrrha: Should we help out?

They watched as the shorter woman shoved the larger man off of her and delivered several rapid punches the man face. The last one proved effective as the hook she sent made the man's head jerk violently before dropping to the ground with a thud.

Nora: It looks like she's winning.

The Headmaster was still in the floor as Lachaira made her way to him, the group thought they heard the man make a plea before she put him into an impressive arm bar.

Ren: I don't think an arm is meant to bend that way.

There a snap that echoed from Ozpin followed by a loud yell. The group winced when they heard it.

Nora: Hey Jaune?

Jaune: Yes Nora?

Nora: Is your mom single?

Jaune, Pyrrha and Ren looked at Nora in confusion and surprise. They then saw Jaune's mom pick up and dust herself off before walking towards them with a small limp, several scratches and a few bruises.

---

Lachaira Arc. Tanned skin and standing at a proud 5'5" with, in Nora's words, a body that looked like she lifted Ursa on a daily and punched boulders for fun. Her black hair was showing the faintest of silver and braided into a low ponytail. Dressed in a simple white shirt that was now dusted with dirt, tucked into a pair of black fitted pants with leather chaps over them and wearing a pair of sturdy black steel toe boots. She had finished using a small towel to wipe the dirt off her face to show the slight tomboyish looking face she had. Of course what struck out the most was the pair of blue eyes that were the same color, if not darker than Jaune's.

Lachaira: So I take it you kiddos enjoyed the show back there?

She grinned and showed off her oddly pointed set of teeth.

Nora: You bet Mama Arc, cool teeth by the way!

Ren: Pardon me for asking, but are you a faunus?

Lachaira chuckled.

Lachaira: Let me guess, was it my perfect skin or alluring curves that gave it away? But yeah, I'm a Faunus.

She narrowed her eyes.

Lachaira: That isn't going to be a problem is it?

Ren raised his hands.

Ren: Not at all, just curious was all.

Nora: What kind are you?

Lachaira raised a brow.

Lachaira: Curious one's aren't ya, well I'm a Honey Badger, besides the teeth I also have the tenacity of one, or at least that what my folks say.

Jaune walked back into he dorm room with a glass of water.

Jaune: Here you go mom, couldn't find any soda so I hope this is okay.

His mom cooed at him and stood up.

Lachaira: Aw, my poor little Knight is worried about his mama.

She grabbed him a bear hug as his team heard the various pops of his spine.

Lachaira: I'm so glad I was able to raise such a sweet boy like you.

Jaune however struggled for breath.

Jaune: Thanks mom... Love you too... Please let go?

She gave a 'oops' and let Jaune go as he greatly sucked in his breath.

Pyrrha: Ma'am if it's okay to ask, why did you beat up our Headmaster?

The Arc Mother shrugged.

Lachaira: I gave my word that I would open a can of whoop ass on the man who threw my son into a forest.

Before Pyrrha could ask she felt Lachaira's hands on her face as she stared deeply into her eyes. The Spartan began to blush slightly as he face drew closer and closer before stopping a few inches.

Lachaira: Huh, you're right kiddo, her eyes would make even Emeralds envious.

Jaune: Mom! I thought you promised you weren't gonna say anything from the letters!

Now the Spartan let out a full blown blush while his mom laughed.

Lachaira: Sorry sweetie by I had my fingers crossed. Now then.

She let go of Pyrrha's face and looked towards Ren and Nora.

Lachaira: Which one is the bubbly bomber and which is the pretty boy?

Nora and Ren only gulped as Jaune covered his face in despair and embarrassment.

---

In the Beacon Medical Ward

Several of the Faculty members now sat with casts and bandages on their bodies. Amongst them was the Headmaster himself in a full body cast now as his sipped at his coffee with a long straw.

The Deputy if Beacon did not looked amused as she read over a file on the very woman who did this

Goodwitch: Lachaira Arc, Honey Badger Faunus. Dropped out of Beacon, former leader of a gang formerly called Oso Heaven, had a bounty placed on her by the kingdom of Atlas, bounty collected by a man named Gregory Greene.

She turned the page and sighed.

Goodwitch: So it was James that had a new bounty placed on her the very day she arrived here, and by your request?

Ozpin stopped sipping and looked at Glynda.

Ozpin: When she was student she was the best of in her year, more than that she was able to single handedly take out three teams of trainees after an altercation involving her Faunus aspects. In her words she stold then, "You're a bunch of fucking pansies that deserve to get dicked down by an Ursa in heat." promptly broke a number of limbs of her opponents and causing an entire team to drop out as well due to the severity of their injuries, without any weapon besides her bare hands and teeth. She then handed in her form for leaving the school, flipped me the bird and took the last Bullhead that was leaving that day.

Glynda: But now?

Ozpin gave a breath.

Ozpin: She seems to be a mother to one our students and was simply here to visit. I was wrong to quickly assume she would cause havoc. No charges will be pressed either as it was our own fault for instigating a retaliation from her.

A man on one of the beds with bandages wrapped around his face spoke.

Steve: I said I was sorry!

Ozpin: Well sorry doesn't fix broken ribs now does it Steve!?

Glynda let out a sigh, silently thankful that she wasn't around for the initial confrontation.

---

July 31, 2021

(Sorry about the late response but Work happened. Anyways here she is Lachaira Arc! I always like the idea of Jaune's mom being some kind of Faunus, it's just skipped a generation, plus I just like a lady that can kick ass one moment but be all sweet the next.

Kinda like Quetzalcoatl from the Fate series.

Anyways, hope this was sufficient enough so have a great day and thanks for the ask!)

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #nora valkyrie #lie ren #glynda goodwitch #professor ozpin #Lachaira Arc #ask

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fatefulfaerie · 3 years

Text

Once Upon A Time

Long one shot under the cut. Every once in a while I obsess over Gelato (Roman x Neo) so...yeah...

Spoilers for RWBY: Roman Holiday (read it if you haven’t it’s so good!!)

He didn’t know how to treat it like anything but a heist.

Roman had definitely kissed a girl before, Bleu Berry at the orphanage when he was twelve, Crimsen Blank when he was fifteen, Verd Webster when he was seventeen, and then of course the off and on thing with Chameleon while he worked for Lil’ Miss.

But something about kissing Neo was special, something not to be messed up or done lightly like every other young woman he had kissed. He had to do it right.

It had seemed like a lifetime ago since Roman had planned a heist without Neo, and he found himself at a loss because of it. She really was the brains of their partnership...and the brawn…

Why was he even here?

Neo gave him a distinct look. She snapped her fingers in front of his face.

“Sorry.”

He was staring again, at her instead of the television. His cover story was that he stared into space when he was really tired.

Lie.

It was really him taking glances from under her nose, like pickpocketing a stranger’s wallet.

Steal.

Cheat.

Survive

Love.

When did that get in there?

Normally when they sat down together to watch the large, holographic screen that emitted from Neo’s facedown scroll -- Roman still hadn’t gotten his hands on a new scroll. He was perfectly able to steal one of course, especially since the Vale City Mall had the most pathetic security. He just kept straight up forgetting -- they were watching themselves on TV, laughing about the coverage of their recent ridiculous robbery and eating spicy hot wings from the Cuckoo Crazy Chicken Shack.

This was the first time that Roman was thinking about someone else while watching his own name flash across the screen.

He was catching feelings for her, and there was no doubt about it. He had been catching feelings ever since she saved his life in the alley where she first showed off her semblance, and then more and more as they spent time together.

Roman pinpointed the moment she showed him the fabulous outfit she had made for him as that oh moment that you read about in romance novels.

Not that he read. He accidentally stole a book once. Once. Neo was the reader. He could hardly summon the patience. When Neo gave him a book to read, he skipped to the end. Roman didn’t see the point in all the rest.

But for some reason with this conundrum, this real-life conundrum, he couldn’t bring himself to skip to the end, to just kiss her like it meant just as much as any other kiss.

He tried to plan it like a heist, watching Neo, memorizing her routine, figuring the best moment of the day to perform the act, but it didn’t work. Neo was too unpredictable. She wasn’t like a bank or a warehouse that had their security guards on the same schedule every day. Her chaos was part of her charm, always doing the unexpected, but Roman was absolutely lost as to when he should make his move, if at all. They had a good thing going here, after all, and for all he knew he could kiss her one second and be knocked out cold the next.

Roman felt a slap on his shoulder and he looked over.

What the hell?

Neo was mute yet Roman could hear her say it. She must have been doing airplane arms before she slapped him.

She pointed at him and then her right ear, her forehead creased with inquisition.

“No, I am not going deaf,” Roman said.

She must have been clapping and snapping to get his attention.

“I’m just thinking,” he explained, the words spilling out just as he realized he might have to come up with an answer for what he was thinking.

But Neo nodded in understanding. What a wonderful human being. She mimed sleep, resting her head on hands that touched palms.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “Sleep. Good idea.”

Since his fancy condo was ambushed by Lil’ Miss, the two partners in crime had settled in an abandoned building that had gone from being a restaurant to a convenience store to a nail salon in the span of three months, before being abandoned for a year now. This street was a terrible place for an above-board business and even the Vale Government had let it rot, too small and inconsequential to be made into a factory or a warehouse of any sort.

Neo and Roman found it a week after the skirmish at the Vanille mansion. It was dilapidated and falling apart but it was only as broken as each of them were before they found each other. They quickly saw it as home.

So Roman stood up in order to head towards his bedroll in the corner. Neo watched him with a suspicious eye.

“Now that we’ve done as much damage as we could with the information from Mr. Vanille’s computer…”

Neo had already noticed that Roman never referred to the late Jimmy Vanille as her dad. Biologically he was her dad but he never treated her like a daughter.

“We may as well start on this dust business,” he continued. “Dust Till Dawn seems like the easiest target to me but I’d rather start bigger, something more fun.”

He turned around in case Neo had anything to add but she only stood up and paced towards him, using her semblance to change into Roman Torchwick himself. Roman looked at the mirrored version of himself as Neo made fun of the way he had been acting, staring with a blank expression, losing his train of thought. She then changed back into herself and shrugged her shoulders with her hands up as if to ask him why.

“I…I don’t know.”

He stammered. He rarely stammered.

She crossed her hands over her heart, then offered her hands to him. He knew what that meant.

Can I help?

She was always so thoughtful.

“It, umm…”

He had to be confident about this, he absolutely had to. He was Roman Torchwick, after all, the fabulous, the famous. He was fearless. He was clever and could get any girl he wanted, even the best of the best that stood in front of him. He could do this.

“Roman Torchwick this is the VPD,” a voice bellowed. Roman closed and opened his eyes.

“Why is it never you?” He asked Neo quietly, who was smirking. She stuck out her tongue.

“Come out with your hands up,” the loud voice continued. “We’ve got you surrounded.”

Neo turned back into Roman.

“Meet you at Forever Fall?” He asked.

Neo nodded and ran off to get caught by the police. Roman pocketed Neo’s scroll and grabbed Melodic Cudger and Hush, the two hooks of which clinked in his grasp.

“Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Torchwick,” he heard as he was halfway out the window in the back. Roman froze and listened. He dared to let his vanity doom him. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t do you justice.”

Roman turned his head.

What was that supposed to mean?

He could see the scene barely, through a gap in one of the distant boarded windows. Neo, in his image of course, stood with her hands in surrender.

“A volatile jokester,” the policeman continued, circling around Neo. “Always has something to remark. Doesn’t seem to want to shut up.” He stopped his spherical pacing and turned on his heel. “Do you know where I got these phrases?”

Neo shook her head.

“Vale Police Department records,” he said. “It’s how they describe you, and it’s how I know you aren’t really in front of me right now, are you Torchwick?”

He felt the panic in his heart, he tried to slip out the window but his forehead met a gun as it cocked with a click.

Their strategy had worked twice already, a disguised Neo getting arrested as Roman fled to a rendezvous location. Neo would use her semblance to escape captivity easily and they would have cheated the system. But it seems the police caught on.

Roman was almost impressed as he bumped shoulders with Neo in the back of the cop car, their weapons confiscated and Neo’s scroll slammed in half by the heel of one of the officers. Their hands were literally tied and Roman might have found a way to fight his way out of this but hey, he had never seen the interior of the Vale Police Department before. He figured it was time for a grand tour of the rathole’s rat hole.

“What’s that?” were the next words out of his mouth twenty minutes later. The VPD building was disappointing. Roman regretted wanting a look inside within a couple steps.

“Semblance inhibitor,” the officer replied, latching a second pair of handcuffs onto Neo’s wrists and only Neo’s wrists. “New tech from Atlas. It drains aura.”

Neo looked at Roman with a flash of panic in her eyes. She was always so confident in her chaos that it was a rare sight to see her scared.

“It’s okay,” he managed softly.

“We’re submitting her for questioning,” the officer continued, nearly interrupted as if Roman hadn’t said anything. “And we’re sending you back to Mistral. Lil’ Miss will be elated to learn that you are alive.”

They began to pull them away along two different hallways.

“No,” Roman said, struggling. “No!”

He lurched for Neo with all his might and caught her lips. That one moment of vulnerability where she tried to keep him with her cost him his better sense as he was very nearly yanked away, only seeing Neo’s face in shock.

“She’s mute, you idiots!” Neo heard Roman exclaim. “She couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. You lay a hand on her and so help me gods I’ll--”

A door slammed shut. Neo didn’t get to hear that last bit.

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

Trivia Vanille a.k.a. “Neopolitan”

Height: 4’10”

Age: 19

Prisoner ID Number: 827338

It was the first time in several years that she genuinely smiled in a picture, and it was a mugshot. Although she could see in her file the name that was dead to her, they referred to her verbally only as Neopolitan. The respect made Neo over the moon with happiness, made her almost forget her concern to get out of this without her semblance. The lock on her normal handcuffs were simple enough to pick once she was left alone but the one that shone blue and drained her energy even now would take a bit more creativity.

Roman Torchwick

Height: 5’11”

Age: 27

Prisoner ID Number: 827299

How many times did he have to tell them? He was six foot three. Six. Feet. Three. Inches. They never listened to him and it bothered him that it was on his permanent record that he didn’t measure up to at least six feet. For goodness sake, he was a celebrity. Any dunce on the street knows that he has orange hair, a white jacket, a grey scarf tied around his neck, and dashing emerald eyes. Everyone knows that he gave himself the birthday of October 31st (the mother who abandoned him at the orphanage didn’t care to specify the day that he had an excuse to steal cake) and that he was six foot three. It was on his mugshot and everything. He pleaded until he had two hands on the bars of his temporary holding cell. He was on his knees.

“Lights out.”

He sighed.

“Fine.”

He heard a foot stomp behind him. His cellmate was standing against the barred window that let in only streaks of moonlight, only fractions of nightlife and remnants of an already crumbled world.

He was a quite heavyset man and Roman’s heart skipped a beat. Roman was good in a fight but he wasn’t sure about these odds as he slowly stood up. This guy looked to have the strength of ten men and his arms were crossed.

Descending pink triangles dispelled the illusion and Roman choked a sigh of relief when the burly man turned into the small silhouette of Neo herself. Her hip cocked to the side and Roman knew, although he couldn’t see it, that she was smirking.

Roman rushed forth and hugged her, embraced her desperately like he never had before. He must have really thought they weren’t getting out of this one together.

“How?” he asked when they separated, his eyes searching her moonlit face.

Neo mimed picking a lock but then shook her head. She then mimed smashing her heel into an invisible pair of handcuffs between her two wrists and gave Roman a thumbs up.

“Good to know Atlas technology goes so fancy on design that brute force is the solution to breaking it. Would you like to pick the cell lock or shall I?”

Neo nodded and skipped to do just that, as if that were the easy part. Neo plucked pins from her mess of brown and pink hair and got to work kneeling before the lock and snaking her arms around the other side of the bars. Roman leaned on the bedpost and ignored his actual cellmate, the actual burly, wideset man who was knocked out on the bottom bunk and had a gnarly bruise the resembled Neo’s heeled boots across his face.

“About earlier, I…” Roman hesitated. “I guess I just wanted to apologize if I took you by surprise. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do, don’t get me wrong, I just…”

After several clicks, the door swung open and Neo turned around to face Roman, approaching him. Roman wondered if she had even heard him until she grasped his tied gray scarf and pulled him into her lips. It was all the answer Roman needed as they explored each other’s mouths, Neo slowly backing up and Roman chasing her, walking forward. When she let loose his lips they were out of the cell. She smiled. Roman was absolutely smitten.

She turned into a security guard, one they had seen earlier and she took his hand, Roman giggling under his breath as they fled from the Vale Police Department and into the wild night they had claimed as their own.

The memory became foggy, as it always did. It turned into a million other nights of chaos with him, all melding into a single lifetime that was now deceased. Trivia Vanille once died in the burning rubble of the Vanille Estate and left Neopolitan in her stead, but the moment Neo saw a blinding “X” over Roman’s aura gage a different Neopolitan had emerged. This one wasn’t languishing in her new sense of identity, wasn’t happy beyond belief in her friendship with this Torchwick guy. No, this Neopolitan was in pain, deep soulful, cutthroat, bleeding pain. When she threw a parasol and made her dad bleed she felt nothing. When her parents died because of the dust her dad harbored, she felt free. But when Roman died, she felt grief for the very first time, felt loss and lost in this world that didn’t understand her, would never understand her like he did.

Neo blinked her eyes open.

She liked when her dreams dipped into her memories up until the point where she woke up, where reality reminded her what was past and what was present.

It smelled like blood here. Neo had started to wonder if this is what it was like to be in the womb, gestating, trapped, waiting to be reborn in Salem’s image. The thought made Neo gag. This was the last place she wanted to be, seen as a mere chess piece in Salem’s game. She grew up as a chess piece that had been discarded, then used, then discarded again, like a dirty towel her parents kept forgetting about. What once liberated her was her newfound knowledge that her decisions could be her own but now she was CInder’s helper? beneficiary?

She would have to stomach it until Cinder upheld her end of the deal and got her to Ruby Rose.

Neo pushed against the bed she was assigned and sat up, although she would use the term bed extremely loosely. It was a hunk of red rock and the small room looked like the maw of a Grimm more than anything else. Neo would quantify it to a torture chamber if there wasn’t a small young man literally being tortured a few rooms over. She at least had it better off than him, but that didn’t say much.

Neo steadied her breath and closed her eyes. She thought of him, not the boy who screamed in anguish down the hallway but him. Roman. She thought of his brown, leather slip-on shoes and how much he hated the hassle of tying laces. She thought of his dark grey pants and how they collected around his ankles. She thought of his white coat and remembered tailoring it to his size, remembered thinking of the moment she would surprise him with it. She remembered his gloves and how it felt to be held by those hands. She remember his grey scarf and tried not to think about how it was on her neck instead of his. She tried to think of his piercing green eyes and his pumpkin orange hair, his bowler hat that had a red ribbon and a grey feather. She tried to remember his voice.

She opened her eyes and stood up slowly, pacing towards the illusion she had created, feeling tears sting in her eyes, feeling her heart beat with relief she tried to subdue.

“Neo,” he said softly.

She bawled, tears streaming down her face. She took the hat off her head and put it on her doll. She cupped his face with her hands and found herself missing having to go on her tippy toes like this.

Neo thought she could hold the illusion long enough to at least hug him, to at least derive some comfort from her memories and what her semblance was able to do with them. Yet, the illusion just as soon shattered, crumbling into shards of glass. Neo’s gasp was shaky as she looked down into her palms. Her breaths matched no rhythm and her soul bled as if she had lost him all over again. She looked up.

Cinder.

Her lip quivered. Neo couldn’t help it. Her brow furrowed in anger despite her sadness. The pink and the brown were like flames. And yet Cinder couldn’t even see her hate. No one could see anything of her.

“Salem wants everyone on the bridge,” Cinder said. “Welcome to reality.”

She walked off without a care and Neo fell to her knees, gathering the glass shards. She seethed with anger as she held them delicately in her hands. Her panting increased as balled her hands into fists, not caring in the slightest the sharp pain in her palms or the blood staining her white gloves.

She made a silent promise to Roman then, not to live for herself like she once did but to survive long enough to give Ruby Rose everything she deserved.

#gelato #neo x roman #roman holiday #rwby roman holiday #rwby #rwby fanfiction #roman torchwick #neopolitan #trivia vanille #neo my beloved #am I ec Myers yet?

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ofstarsandvibranium · 4 years

Text

Flowers for Spencer

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F!Reader

Summary: Spencer starts receiving flowers from a secret admirer. A different one each day, a different meaning.

A/N: It’s 2am and I decided to write a spencer reid oneshot because i’m completely soft for this man. enjoy.

A white carnation sat on Spencer’s desk when he arrived to work. Just a single flower with no note or indication of who it was from.

He picked it up with an intrigued expression on his face, gaining the attention of Emily and Derek.

“Whatcha got there, Reid?” Emily asked as she set her things on her desk.

“Dianthus caryophyllus, also known as a carnation. Different colored carnations represent different meanings. For example, a white carnation represents something being sweet or love.”

Derek snorted, “Someone in love with you, Reid?”

The young doctor shrugs, “I don’t know. I might be looking too much into it. Someone probably just picked a random flower and placed it on my desk.”

Emily cocked her head to the side and looked at Spencer curiously, “No, I think that flower was given to you for a reason, Reid.” Her eyes widened and she stood up from her desk, pointing at the flower, “I bet someone has a crush on you and they’re trying to tell you through the flowers!”

“That’s creepy,” Derek retorted as he took a sip from his coffee.

Emily rolled her eyes, “Well I think it’s sweet.”

“What’s sweet?” you ask when you approach Spencer and Emily, handing them their respective to-go cups of coffee.

“Our good doctor here has a secret admirer,” Derek points out with a grin.

You look back at Spencer with a soft smile, “That so?”

He shyly smiles back and shrugs, “It could be nothing. But it’s nice. Never received flowers before.”

“Well whoever it is, that’s very sweet of them. Anyway, JJ said to meet in the briefing room in five. I just gotta grab some files to I’ll see you guys there.”

____________

The next day, Spencer found another flower on his desk. This time it was a

“Bellis perennis, known as the common daisy.” Spencer states when JJ, Derek, Penelope, and Emily gather around him as he holds the flower in between his fingers.

“And what does this one stand for?” Emily asks.

“Innocence and purity.”

Derek nods in agreement, “I mean, I think that sums you up perfectly, Reid.”

Spencer looks at him confusedly, “Thanks?”

“Okay, okay. Do we know anyone who has a particular fondness of flowers?”

The small group stand in silence for three seconds and proceeded to shake their heads, “Nope. Not a clue.”

You approached everyone with files in your arms and a curious look on your face, “What’s everyone standing around for?”

“Our adorable Doctor Reid received another flower from his secret admirer. They think he’s innocent and pure.” Derek chimes in, answering your question.

“Which I don’t understand, at all.” Spencer retorts.

“I think it’s cute,” Penelope states, “Guys often don’t receive flowers and I’m glad it’s you, Spencer.”

“Thanks, Garcia.” he replies shyly and then looks back at you, “Do you have any idea who it might be? Have you seen anyone hanging close to my desk lately?”

You give him a shake of your head, “No, sorry, Spence. But I think it’s nice of whoever it is for them to do this.”

He hums in agreement and sits back down at his desk once everyone disperses, “Oh!” his face lights up, “I just remembered, the new edition of Agents of Atlas series released today! If we have time, you wanna come with me to get it?”

“Sure! Maybe afterwards, we can go to the pizza place down the street from there?”

“Sounds like a plan!”

“Great!” you say enthusiastically before following JJ to her office.

Derek, who witnessed the interaction, rolled over to Spencer’s desk with a smirk on his face, “You and Y/N?”

Spencer already gives him a disapproving look, “We’re just friends.”

“What if she’s your secret admirer? It makes sense right? Ever since JJ hired her as her assistant, you two have been connected at the hip! You’re into the same nerdy stuff, she always listens to you go off on your tangents. She’s sweet and pretty and-”

“And we’re just friends,” Spencer said again with a pointed look, “I don’t-” he paused and let out a sigh, “I don’t think she sees me like that, Morgan. She’s-She’s too good for me.”

It was Derek’s turn to give him a pointed look, “Reid, she’s perfect for you. But fine, whatever. Instead of yearning for some mystery person you have your dream girl right in front of you.” he then rolls back to his desk, getting back into the zone of looking over case files.

_________

It’s been almost two years since you were hired to be JJ’s assistant. She was an amazing and efficient woman, but she finally caved after she realized that work was consuming her and she needed help. That’s when you stepped in and it was the best thing to ever happen to you. Sort of. Sure, you had to read through some really violent and cruel files, but you also aided in helping save lives. Not to mention, you grew close to the one Doctor Spencer Reid.

On your first day, you two immediately hit it off. He noticed your Star Trek pin on your bag, quoting a Spock line to you that made you grin from ear to ear.

You two shared a lot of the same interests and your personalities were fairly similar. Derek had complained that now there were two Reids he had to work with, but you knew he meant it jokingly.

Getting to know Spencer and growing close with him was something you enjoyed. You loved spending time with him, listening to him ramble and go on random tangents. Everything he said was so remarkably fascinating, you wished he would never stop talking. You grew to like him more than a friend.

Eventually, you realized that your small crush you harbored had grown into something more and you didn’t know what to do. Spencer was the best friend you’ve ever had. He understood you so well and not to mention you two got along fantastically. You just didn’t want to put your friendship at risk.

So what did you resort to? Leaving him flowers to express how you felt.

______________

“Is that lavender?” Penelope asked, sniffing the air when she entered the bullpen.

Derek nodded, “Yup. Another gift from Spencer’s secret admirer. Apparently this one means admiration.”

She looked at Spencer in awe, “Wow. A flower every single day this week, Spencer. This person must really like you! You got an idea who it is yet?”

He shook his head, “Nope.”

That made her confused, “But you’re a profiler. Can’t you figure it out? Oh! Wait! I can hack into the cameras and figure it out for you!” she began to rush towards her office, but Spencer called out to her.

“Please, don’t. I-I don’t wanna embarrass whoever this is.”

“But don’t you wanna know who’s gone sweet on ya?” she asks with a friendly smile.

He shrugs, “Yeah, but-I don’t know. I want them to build up the courage to reveal themselves to me. Plus...I like the attention. No one’s ever given me flowers before, let alone shown this much interest in me.”

Penelope wanted to say something, something that she knew but also didn’t know. She had a hunch, but she didn’t want to rile Spencer up with the risk of her being wrong. So instead, she gave him a smile and a nod, and said, “Understood.”

____________

It was late and everyone had left for the night. A case still in progress, but Hotch ordered everyone to get a good night’s sleep to rest their brains.

You were the only one left, wanting to finish up some tasks that you haven’t been able to complete since the case had emerged.

When you were finished, you exited JJ’s office and peered into the bullpen. Empty. So you quickly and carefully pulled out the flower that you planned on giving Spencer.

You rushed over to his desk, placing it at his workstation, a soft smile on your lips.

“You should tell him,” the voice made you jump with a gasp. Heart on your hand you turned around to see Hotch standing in the doorway of his office.

“I thought everyone left.” you murmured.

“Just had some things to finish up.” he closed his office door and walked towards you. He stood before you, stuffing his hands in his pockets and nodded towards Spencer’s desk, “You should tell him.”

“I will just not right now. I just-I don’t know how to tell him. And if I do, what if he rejects me? Then our entire friendship is washed down the toilet because I couldn’t control my feelings.”

“He likes you too, Y/N.”

“How do you know?”

“I’m a profiler. It’s my job,” he says with a smirk. He gives you a soft nudge, “Lemme walk you to your car.”

You sighed and agreed, following him out of the bullpen with a plan brewing in your mind.

___________

“Ranunculus,” Spencer’s head shoots up when he hears your voice and sees you staring down at him, “Means you have charm and you’re attractive. But I’m sure you knew that already.”

He clears his throat and sits up more, “Yeah,” he looks down at the flower in his hand and back up at you, “So what do you think of all this? It’s been a week and a half and my secret admirer still hasn’t revealed themselves to me. Should I just treat it as a case and start profiling them?”

A part of you wanted to reject that idea completely, but you had to remain cool. So you shrugged, “Don’t know. Maybe they’re just trying to buy a little bit more time.”

“I think by the end of the week, if they don’t reveal themselves, I’ll just go looking for them instead. Do you think that sounds like a good idea?”

“It’s your life, Spence. You do what you want. My opinion shouldn’t matter.”

“But it does. Your opinion matters a lot to me,” he says softly, a shy grin on his face, one that you came to love.

You hear someone clear their throat and you turn around to see JJ, “Sorry, Y/N, but I need some help.”

“Right, sorry!” you give Spencer a wave and head back to JJ’s office to assist her.

________________

It was the last day of the week and Spencer was disappointed to find his desk lacking a flower.

His coworkers all peering at the surface, frowns matching his own.

“No flower?” Emily asked.

“Guess not.”

“Maybe someone took it and threw it away?” Derek asked.

Spencer shook his head, “No. No. I think-I think that means they’re gonna come clean. My secret admirer is going to reveal themselves to me today.”

Cue the group discussing who it could possibly, chattering among themselves sharing their own respective theories. All the while, Spencer plops into his chair and begins to take out a file and notebook from his bag.

When he hears someone clear their throat, he looks up, eyes catching yours briefly before landing on a single red rose in your hand.

“Hi,” you greeted him mousily. Nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Hi,” Spencer murmured softly, standing to his feet, “Whatcha got there?”

You look down at the rose, finger delicately grazing along its petals, “For you,” you extend it to him and he takes it, “It’s me. I’m your secret admirer. And if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. i just-I dunno. You’re kind and smart and funny and wonderful and an amazing friend. I’ve never met anyone like you, Spencer.”

“How long?”

“Hm?” you look at him now and you see the softness in his eyes.

“How long have you had feelings for me?”

“Three months after I started working here.”

He chuckles in disbelief, “Almost two years and we could’ve been dating during this entire time.”

You look at him confusedly until realization struck you, “You-”

“Yeah,” he says with a smile, “For just as long.”

“Oh,” you say with a shy grin.

“Score!” Penelope and Derek high five, breaking the sweet moment you and Spencer were having. JJ and Emily were digging through their wallets handing over the other two money.

Realizing what was happening, both you and Spencer looked at them in shock, “You bet on us?!”

“Not necessarily,” Emily murmured in dismay.

“We all made bets on who we thought the secret admirer was. Morgan and Garcia bet it was you.”

“And I did as well,” Hotch added with a smirk on his face as he reached out to collect his winnings.

You scoffed, “That’s not fair, Hotch! You already knew!”

The group looked at their boss in surprise and disappointment. He shrugged, “I caught her placing a flower on his desk last week when everyone left.”

“I’ll be taking that!” Spencer plucked the money out of Hotch’s hands.

“And what’re you gonna use that money on?” Derek asked.

Spencer looked at you and smiled, “A date.”

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid

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imherongraystairstrash · 3 years

Note

I don’t think this is along the line of your usual fics, at least I’ve only seen you post one thing in the TDA series, but would you be willing to write Kit and Kieran bonding after Kieran finds out that they’re related? Because I just feel like Kieran would be happy to have a family member that he actually likes, and isn’t a horrible person.

Yes! Kieran would be so happy to have a family member that doesn’t treat him horribly! I also want to apologize for posting this monster of a fic. I just had too much fun writing this! Kit’s POV is something I didn’t know I needed to write until now. ALSO, it broke my heart to write some of this so... You’re welcome.

Characters: Kit & Kieran bonding times (platonicccc I don’t want anyone thinking this is anything other than platonic because, ew)

Notes: This is a couple of days before Kit goes to live with Jem and Tessa :)

...

Kit had been staring out into the distance for so long, time seems to have lost it’s essence. He kept telling himself to stop standing there and go back inside. Perhaps he should do some packing, since Jem Carstairs and Tessa Gray were going to come in a couple of days and take him to Devon. But all Kit had done this evening was this; looking out at LA and wondering how his life had changed so drastically in the span of a couple of months.

He had the balcony door open and turned to find Kieran standing there.

“Is it alright if I stay here?”

Kit simply nodded at him and then turned back to the view. It was a really nice view. Nothing like the one he had in his old house.

Kieran rested his forearms on the railing and looked out at the city, just as Kit was doing.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Kieran asked.

“Nope, go ahead.”

“When you look out at this view,” Kieran said, “do you see what you would consider to be ‘home’?”

Kit shrugged. “I’ve never seen LA from here before, so it doesn’t really look like home. Except for that street over there; I used to pass it when I was going to school in the morning.”

Kieran squinted, trying to identify the street. He didn’t know why, but Kit sort of liked that he was actually putting in the effort to find the street he was talking about. Most people would shrug it off or nod and smile a fake smile, just so that they could end the small talk. It sort of felt like Kieran actually cared about what Kit said.

“Is it the one that goes along that building with red lights?”

“Uhh,” Kit looked at the expanse of red lights, none of which were near the street he had been talking about. “Not really. It’s the one that has that stop sign at the end of it.”

“I’m afraid I do not have knowledge of what a ‘stop sign’ is or what it may look like.”

Kit’s eyes widened and he bit back the urge to say “wow”. How old was this guy? How secluded was Faerie? He didn’t ask those questions though, because they seemed rude.

“It’s okay, Kieran. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to keep looking for it. I mean, it’s pretty small.”

“No, I want to find this path you had taken to your school in the past. It feels important.”

“Oh okay. Umm,” Kit looked at the street. “Oh, do you see that green car over there?”

“Hm. Oh yes! I do see it!”

“Okay, to the right of that road, is the street I was talking about.”

“Is there a woman and a man professing their love to one another, for all to see, on the lighter road, beside that bigger, darker road?”

Kit blinked. And then he understood. “Oh, you mean that couple making out on the sidewalk? Yeah, that’s the one.”

Kieran smiled, clearly proud he’d found the street. Kit smiled too, because it had been a little fun. Then his mind drifted and he thought about how Kieran was supposedly related to him. That was really weird. He also looked nothing like Kieran; but maybe that was because they weren’t that related.

“Hey, Kieran?”

“Yes?”

“How are we related again? Are we like cousins or something?”

“I think your great-great grandmother was my half sister?”

“Oh.” Kit said. “Well, I still don’t know what to call you. Are you like my great-great-great uncle, then?”

Kieran looked pensive. “Perhaps?”

“Cool.”

“I was thinking it was a bit hot, actually.”

Kit felt his jaw drop. What the hell?

“What?”

Kieran looked at him surprised. “You said you were cold, but I think it’s rather warm outside. Hot, even.”

Kit released a breath in relief. “Oh, oh okay. Thank God.”

“For what?”

“Oh, nothing.”

They looked out at the landscape in front of them. Kit was going to just let the silence hang, when he suddenly felt bad for his Triple-G Uncle (yes, he thought, that’s what I should call him).

“Oh, Kieran?”

“Yes?”

“When someone says ‘cool’ they usually mean, like…‘nice’.”

Kieran looked at him and tilted his head to the side. “I don’t believe I follow…”

“It’s like… uh… you see, i—it’s hard to explain. Let me think.” Kit furrowed his eyebrows trying to figure out how to explain. “Well, it’s like saying ‘awesome’ or ‘great’, you know?”

Kieran pressed his lips together. “Oh. That makes a little bit of sense.”

“Oh, really? Cool! I thought what I just said just confused you even more.”

“No, no. I think I understand now, especially after you used it in a sentence.”

“Huh. And you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

Kieran eyed him. “Even if I wanted to, I cannot lie. I’m Fae.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kit bit his lip. “I forget that sometimes.”

Kieran snorted. “I don’t.”

Kit pressed his lips together. He wanted to know more about his ancestors, and now was as good a time to ask. And when would he get a better opportunity to learn? Here was Kieran, who was raised in the Unseelie Court. Just ask, Kit, he thought. Just ask the stupid question already, before you leave and won’t ever be able to know. Just do it.

Kit almost laughed because that reminded him of a vine he had first seen in second period math. Then, he shuddered because ugh, second period math. That class was torture unlike any he had ever endured.

Anyways, what had he been thinking about? Oh yes; he had to ask Kieran his question.

“Christopher?”

Darn it. Just when he was going to ask his question. “Yeah?”

“I do not recall ever having a family member that has never tried to kill me or was cruel, save my brother, Adaon.”

“Oh,” Kit said, eyes wide as he shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “That’s um—that sucks, Kieran. I—I’m sorry?”

“Why do you apologize?”

Kit frowned, “I don’t know. That’s the sort of thing people say.”

Kieran hummed. “You mortals apologize too much.��

Kit didn’t have anything to say, other than ‘sorry’ which would be kinda dumb, considering what Kieran just said. So, he opted for silence.

“As I was saying,” Kieran continued. “I do not think I have had a good relationship with family members for a long time, so I hope you can forgive me if I do not keep good company; I don’t interact well with others because of my upbringing.”

“Oh.” Kit bit his lip, absentmindedly. What does this mean?

As if reading his mind, Kieran added quickly. “I just thought that perhaps we could try to be each other's family?”

“Nobody’s ever wanted me to be their family member before.” Kit mumbled.

“I can say the same for myself.” Kieran said. “I thought maybe we could talk and introduce ourselves better. I know family isn’t just blood but—”

“I’d like that.” Kit interrupted, without meaning to. “Get to know each other, I mean.”

Kieran looked surprised. “You would?”

“Yeah. I mean, you seem pretty dope—I mean, interesting.”

Kieran smiled. “You, too, seem ‘dope’”

Kit laughed at that. Maybe it would be fun to teach Kieran modern slang.

“Okay, first things first though, nobody really calls me Christopher, unless I royally messed up. You can call me Kit, instead.”

And so they talked to one another. Nothing too deep. It was the type of conversation that has no real subject to it, and because of that, it was enjoyable. Kit got to ask his question about Faerie and Kieran asked him questions about the mundane world. Kit even showed him the Katy Perry left shark meme. Kieran’s face when Kit told him that there were people inside those costumes could have also been a meme.

Kit did not know where life would take him. He supposed that living with Jem and Tessa couldn’t be too bad. Who knew? Maybe they won’t ignore him as his dad had. Then again, isn’t that what parents normally do with their children? Just pretend like they don’t exist, except for times when it’s convenient for them?

It didn’t really matter, not right now. At least Kieran felt Kit was worth his time, and maybe, just maybe, he could have the relative he never had.

Yes, that would be nice.

...

Tagging some lovely people: @celias @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @hitheresomeoneusingthus @rinadragomir @youngreckless @aceofjesper @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @cupcakesandkittens @no-scones-allowed @fictionally-fantastic @stxr-thxif @forjordelia @itsdaughterofthemoon

If you want to be tagged in future fics, notify me! If you asked to be tagged and I didn’t tag you in this post, please remind me (my brain cells are gone at this point)

#kit herondale #kieran kingson #tsc #tda fanfiction #tsc fanfiction #kit and kieran #the dark artifies #idk what else to tag this asss

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ur-jinji · 3 years

Text

looking out for you

part eleven: the forbidden polar bear dog

a/n: this is a longer one! read the first three text conversation pictures and then there’s text i wrote!

saturday approached quickly, leaving you very excited. it had been a while since you and your friends hung out, and that first night at the arcade in the beginning stages of sokka and suki’s relationship was very memorable. when you and zuko silently decided to make sokka and suki go off on their own to play a game, the two do you snuck into a photo booth to hide. of course pictures were taken. you still kept those pictures hung on the mirror in your bedroom after all that time.

you stood at that mirror waiting to be picked up. you eyed your appearance and then glanced at the photographs fondly. your favorite was the last one where you finally got zuko to smile with his teeth. he looked so happy. you gazed at it for a few moments, smiling softly, before the beep of a car broke you from your trance. you figured it was suki, who was picking everyone up. you gathered your things and made your way outside. you opened the back door to see zuko on the side of the door you opened. he sent you a smile and then scooched over to the other side. you climbed in and fastened your seatbelt.

“howdy, everyone,” you greeted, earning three greetings back. sokka turned around from the passenger seat, scanning you and zuko, while arching an eyebrow. you noted that he looked rather suspicious. he turned back around in his seat without saying a word.

“if you’re trying to coerce us into a foursome, it’s not happening,” you stated plainly to him, his suspiciousness making you curious.

“i was about to say the same thing,” zuko commented, eyeing sokka.

“guys! i asked one time forever ago!” sokka whined. suki laughed in reply, and you noted her side glance at him.

“well, stop being sus!” you exclaimed, kicking the back of his seat.

“i’m not being sus! i’ve done nothing wrong!” sokka replied dramatically, gaining another kick to the seat.

you eventually made it to the arcade, you and zuko bickering with sokka the entire way.

“i say we eat first,” suki declared, which everyone agreed to. the four of you agreed to share a pizza, and sat at a booth in the eating area. suki and sokka got up after a few minutes to order the pizza, leaving you alone with zuko. you turned your head to look at him to see he was already looking back at you.

“i’m just saying, if you don’t play dance revolution with me, i’ll be very upset,” you told him, folding your arms, pretending to be serious.

“y/n, you know that game and i don’t mix well,” zuko replied, smirking.

“just don’t fall this time and it’ll be fine,” you said, laughing, recalling the first time he played, he had face planted.

“easier said than done. we’ll see,” he said, shrugging.

“pleeeease,” you begged, poking out of your bottom lip. he stared blankly at you for a moment and then sighed defeatedly.

“fine,” he gave in, rolling his eyes. “one game.”

sokka and suki returned back to the booth, sitting across from you and zuko. the four of you dug into the pizza like beasts. on your third slice, you felt zuko’s leg move, gently colliding with yours. you figured it was an accident, but when he didn’t move it, you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach. you turned your head slightly to look at him. he side-eyed you quickly before his eyes darted away.

after eating, you scooched out of the booth and started to do some bossing around, forcing everyone to play skee ball with you. they complied, and the four of you went to the skee ball machines. you didn’t do very good, which was embarrassing because you talked a lot of game on the way over. your machine only spit out two tickets, and you looked over to see suki got like a million, while zuko and sokka got a couple each.

“this is humiliating,” you whined, holding up your two tickets. “if i keep this up, i’ll never win that giant stuffed polar bear dog.” you pointed to the prize wall.

“it’s okay, y/n. i can share my tickets with you,” suki offered, bumping her hip against yours.

“thanks for the generous donation. if i don’t walk out of here with that polar bear dog, my life will be over,” you told them. “and it costs like a billion tickets.”

“hm, looks like it’s actually 800 tickets,” sokka corrected, reading the sign under the prize you wanted.

“well, i have 798 tickets to go. we have a lot of work to do,” you declared. “now, someone play guitar hero with me. i’m a guitar hero master.”

the four of you found yourselves at the guitar hero game, which was a two player game. suki volunteered to play, and you two got busy. she selected sweet child of mine, and as the song started, zuko and sokka snuck away to play a two player game of their own.

“suki, let me win. i need the polar bear dog,” you begged her as you tried to keep up with the pace of the notes.

“winner takes all,” she teased. “so good luck.”

“SUKI PLEASE.”

you began to struggle even more, and continued to beg suki to spare you. the song eventually ended, and suki was the victor with a higher score. the game spit you two tickets for your participation, and suki got a ton.

“THIS IS HUMILIATING,” you shouted to her.

“maybe i want the polar bear dog, too,” she said, poking her tongue out at you.

“i think we should both have polar bear dogs,” you replied.

“better start picking up the pace!” suki joked.

you spent the next few hours playing games and not earning very many tickets, to your disappointment. eventually, you finally made it dance revolution. suki played a few games with you, and then you took a break for sokka and suki to play. after they were done, you grabbed zuko’s arm and led him onto the platform.

“don’t pick a hard one,” he ordered as he stepped onto his side of the platform.

“fine,” you moaned, sliding into two quarters and selecting an easy song. the music started, and you moved your feet onto the correct arrows as they appeared on the screen. you glanced over at zuko, who was moving really awkwardly.

“loosen up,” you told him.

“i can’t. i look dumb,” he replied, laughing.

“give every step purpose,” you instructed. “that’s how you make it look less dumb.”

he listened, and started to look a little more natural, but still awkward. you laughed at him, causing him to raise his arm to the side and give you a gentle push.

“hey! don’t cheat!” you whined, pushing him back a little harder. as the song sped a little, he hand moved to your shoulder again, giving you another shove.

“i want to win,” he said after you sent him an angry face. the song eventually ended, and zuko stepped off the platform.

“please, one more,” you begged, giving him your best pouty face. zuko rolled his eyes and shook his head. he grabbed your wrist to force you away from the game. he started to lead you to the prize wall.

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“we’re getting your polar bear dog,” he replied, sending you a soft smile.

“i don’t have enough tickets!” you stated, but he only tugged your arm more.

you approached the prize desk, and zuko pulled out a ton of tickets. you looked up at him, shocked.

“where did you get all those tickets?” you questioned, arching an eyebrow.

“don’t worry about it,” he dismissed, handing his tickets to the lady behind the desk. you pulled out yours and did the same. she processed them and the total ticket number came to 813.

“the polar bear dog please,” zuko told the lady, pointing up to the jumbo stuffed animal.

part eleven: the forbidden polar bear dog

part 10 // part 11 // part 12

navigation // atla masterlist

zuko x reader smau

summary: in which two friends simp for each other without the other knowing

a/n: sorry this chapter was too fun to write. i love simpy zuko

taglist: @sorrythatspussynal @duh-dobrik @benerinobullshit @0-hysteria-0 @charlenasaxen @theblueslytherin @teelagurl558 @rain-cesia523 @xxoperatexx @coldlilheart @carisi-sonny @missmorosis @adorablepandasuniverse @sokkaandzukosimp

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kanerallels · 3 years

Note

Donicus Crossover ATLA (PLEASE ADD TOPH PLZ PLZ PLZ) Thank you!!!

It would be my honor-- here goes nothing lol!!!

Pairing: Marcus Lanum/Idony St. Claire

Word count: ??? I'm on mobile rn, I'll update this later. Somewhere in the 1000s

Tags/Warning: G rating (for glaring, at Marcus, from Noah). One minor injury and a little blood

Getting lost in Republic City was no joke. The place was absolutely huge, with a lot of streets and different buildings. It was also decidedly unhelpful when some people in your group (Berlyne, Apen and Noah) wanted to go watch pro-bending, while others (Marcus, Enel and Idony) wanted to find the library. (Chara and Joe were undecided.)

“I could have sworn we should have turned left back there,” Marcus muttered, studying the map he was holding. The whole group had paused on a street corner, and he and Apen were studying the map, trying to figure out where they were. Berlyne and Noah were nearby, mostly making unhelpful comments as Enel and Chara ignored the whole proceedings while excitedly pointing out parts of the city to each other.

As for Idony, she had her arm tucked around Marcus’s, her head tilted up towards the sunlight as she listened to the city. Marcus paused a moment to look away from the map at her, seeing the way the sun glinted off her golden curls and a soft smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

Then he saw Noah shoot him a glare, and hastily redirected his attention to the map, just as Apen shook his head. “No, we were supposed to go straight-- if that’s even where we are. I think we’re on this street.” He jabbed a finger at a different spot on the map.

“Impossible,” Marcus protested. “We passed the candy store on Main Street-- that was where we got off track in the first place because Enel was trying to drag us in there.”

“Yeah, and we went east instead of north.”

“No, we--”

Berlyne let out an exasperated sigh. “You guys have been arguing about this for the past ten minutes. Why don’t we just ask for directions again?”

“We don’t need them!” Marcus said, lifting the map. “I can figure out where we’re going. Now, where did we turn past the police station again?”

“I’m with Berlyne,” Irony said to Marcus’s dismay. “We should just ask how to get there. Enel!”

The copper-haired boy turned from the fire hydrant he and Chara were admiring. “Yeah?”

“Would you and Chara find someone who can give us directions, please?”

“On it!” Enel promptly darted out into the street with Chara on his heels. He’d barely made it two steps when Marcus heard someone shout, “STOP!!”

Chara froze, and Enel, who did not stop, slammed straight into the source, a tan-skinned young man around Marcus’s age. He had a ponytail, although his hair was shaved at the sides, and wore a blue tunic and pants and blue fingerless gloves. At his side he wore a long sword that Marcus recognized from his reading as a jian, and on his back was a strangely triangular-shaped sheath of some kind.

He squinted at Enel. “Oh. Good news, guys, he’s not actually on fire. That’s just his hair.”

“Which is exactly what we told you,” pointed out one of his other two companions. They were both girls around his own age-- one in green robes and armor, her face painted completely white, with red above the eyes and along her lips. The other girl was younger and a little shorter, clad in what looked to be a green jumpsuit of some kind, with a pale yellow overtunic. She was shoeless for some reason, and her bangs hung loose over her eyes, which-- Marcus did a double take-- were filmed over in a similar manner to Idony. Was this girl blind, too?

Shrugging, Berlyne said, “Well, it’s an understandable mistake when it comes to Enel.”

Enel shot her a wounded look as Apen blurted out, “Wait-- are you a Kyoshi warrior?” He was staring at the girl in white makeup, who looked surprised.

“I am,” she said.

“I’ve read about those,” Marcus said, his eyes widening. “Named for the mythical Avatar Kyoshi, who supposedly founded them. You’re made up entirely of women and wield weaponized fans.”

“I heard stories about you growing up,” Apen said, his eyes going glassy as he clearly slipped back to the past. “My si-- uh, people I knew hero worshipped you guys.”

“We’re honored, in that case,” the girl said with a smile. “I’m Suki. This is Sokka of the Water Tribe, and Toph Beifong.”

“Beifong? As in Lao Beifong, the business man?” Apen asked.

Folding her arms, Toph said, “No, as in Toph Beifong, greatest earthbender in the world. Get that in your head, short stuff.”

“Hey!” Apen looked offended as Toph whipped out an arm, pointing directly at Marcus.

“As for you, yes, I’m blind. Stop staring or I’ll throw you in the ocean. I have pretty great range as an earthbender, you know.”

“I wasn’t staring,” Marcus protested, and Sokka chuckled.

“First mistake-- Toph can sense when you’re lying.” Leaning over to Apen, he said, “She really is the best earthbender ever. Don’t tell her I said it, though, it would only go to her head.”

“I can hear you, bozo,” Toph said flatly.

“Oops.”

Swatting Marcus’s shoulder, Idony said, “Marcus! That’s rude! But-- you’re blind, too?”

“‘Too?’” Toph echoed.

“Oh, yeah-- Idony’s blind,” Enel said helpfully. “She’s with Marcus.” He punctuated the “with Marcus” by wiggling his eyebrows aggressively.

Choosing to ignore him, Marcus said, “I didn’t mean to be rude, I was just surprised--”

“Don’t care,” Toph said, waving a hand dismissively, and Noah snorted.

“I might actually be starting to like this earthbender. Here’s a question-- can you actually launch someone into the harbor, and do I have to choose between Enel and Marcus?”

“Noah!” Idony said, irritation flashing across her face. “You’re not launching them anywhere.”

Noah grumbled something under his breath, and Berlyne snickered.

“Better luck next time. You’ll just have to do it yourself.”

“You two are my kind of people,” Toph said with a grin. “Okay-- wanna see something cool?”

“Sure,” Berlyne said, looking intrigued.

Taking a wide, firm stance, Toph took a long deep breath. Then, lifting one of her feet up, she slammed it back down into the pavement at the same time as she jerked her hands upwards. A spire of rock shot up out of the ground at Sokka’s feet, catapulting him into the air. He let out a yelp of horror. “TOPH! NOT AGAIN!!!”

Gasps of shock flew around the ground, but Suki and Toph seemed unbothered. With another earthbending move, Toph brought another spire of rock out of the ground, catching Sokka a few feet from the ground. He let out a grunt. “Ow…”

“You’re fine,” Toph said, waving a hand dismissively. “Nothing’s even broken.”

“True. Maybe warn me next time you shoot me into the air, though?” Sokka suggested, sliding off of the rock formation and onto the ground. “And also please put our city’s streets back the way they were.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Toph grumbled, bringing the rock towers back into the ground. They disappeared seamlessly, and she shrugged. “Well, it wasn’t the Earth Rumble, but still fun.”

“Wait-- did you compete in the Earth Rumble?” Berlyne demanded, and Toph smirked.

“Please, I owned the Earth Rumble. All those pansies went crying home once I was done.”

“Technically also true,” Sokka agreed. “I was there.”

“Tell me everything,” Berlyne demanded, and Marcus released a long suffering sigh.

Looking at Suki, he said, “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give us directions? We’re trying to get to the library.”

“Pro-bending,” Apen corrected.

Grinning, Suki said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

The three of them moved to the side as Sokka began to give a play-by-play of the Earth Rumble, with Toph occasionally re-enacting moves. Finally, they were fairly certain they had a route mapped out.

“Okay,” Marcus was saying, “so we turn right here--”

He was cut off halfway through as Toph’s latest earth bending move sent rocks flying in their direction. One cracked into Marcus’s temple, and he crashed to the ground with a yelp of pain.

He heard a shout of concern that was probably Enel’s, a snort of amusement that was definitely Noah, and then Idony called his name.

“Marcus!”

She was by his side seconds later, kneeling next to him. “Are you okay?” she asked, a gentle hand touching the side of his face.

His eyes lingering on her face, Marcus felt his heart rate pick up slightly. “I’m, uh, better now,” he managed. “Much better.”

A smile crossed Idony’s face. “You must have been hit hard to be flirting in front of my brother.” Leaning down, she planted a kiss on his forehead, and if Marcus hadn’t been seeing stars before, he was now. “That always makes it better,” she told him.

“Definitely,” Marcus agreed.

He heard a strangled noise from above them, and glanced up to see Apen pointedly looking away from him. “Uh, you okay?” he asked, a slight grin crossing his face.

“You’re way too entertained by this, aren’t you?” Marcus said with exasperation.

“Maybe a little.”

As Apen and Idony helped Marcus to his feet, Sokka came hurrying over. “Ooh, that looks like a nasty cut,” he said, and Marcus lifted a hand to his temple, feeling blood. “Tell ya what, we’ll have my sister Katara look at it. She’s an expert healer with her water bending-- DEFINITELY don’t tell her I said that.”

“Wait,” Apen said, his eyes growing even wider. “Your sister is KATARA???”

"The famous healer?" Marcus said, impressed.

Letting out a groan, Toph said, "If they start swooning over someone every five minutes, it's gonna be a long day."

"And they don't even know that Katara's boyfriend is the Avatar," Sokka observed.

"He's WHAT???" Apen gaped at them.

"Yup. Swooning," Toph said with a sigh. Shooting Marcus and Idony-- who was still standing very close to him-- a look, she added, "And that's not even the only kind of swooning around her."

Noah looked like he wanted to gag, and Marcus almost protested. But then Idony slipped her hand into his, and. Well. Toph wasn't exactly far off. And he definitely didn't mind.

#marcus lanum #idony st. claire #donicus #the silver eye fan fic #the silver eye webcomic #tse #the silver eye #111 followers celebration #it was dope. the end

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