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tetsurobunni · 3 years

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Kita Shinsuke : Matchmaker

☽ suna x reader ; 2.6k words

☞ characters mentioned : kita shinsuke, aran ojiro, atsumu miya, osamu miya

☽ fluff, he takes care of you when ur sick ! even tho he’s a menace, kita being an angel

☽ a slight mention of adult themes (its a teasing joke)

☽ notes : hiii i wrote this for a friend and i figured id add it here teehee :))

hey Jesus, i know we don’t talk much but...fuck you. i feel like literal dog shit

You groaned as you shoved yet another tissue in your nose. You were sick, and God forbid it wasn’t the worst cold you’d ever had.

This morning you had pulled on your uniform in a haze; honestly it's a miracle you even made it to school. Aran had stopped you in the hallway when you arrived, putting a hand on your shoulder and placing the back of his palm against your forehead.

He immediately got out his phone and texted someone-presumably Kita, since he was the one most qualified to handle this. The captain had dealt with him and Atsumu both when they were sick so he could surely help you and get you to go the hell home.

You had pushed weakly at Kita when he ushered you towards the entrance of the building, assuring that you were a-o-kay. You ended up making friends with a nearby trashcan and emptying your guts right after the claim. Kita had held your hair back and rubbed your shoulders reassuringly. Afterwards, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to someone. Who? You didn’t know.

Kita had made sure to get you home in one piece. He tucked you into bed, placed a cold rag onto your head, and you think you heard him say something about bringing you soup later. Sleep crept up on you quickly and you were out before he even stepped out the door.

Now you were unfortunately awake, cursing whatever God could hear. This was absolutely awful. A dull throb ran through your skull insistently, mucus clotted your nose and throat, making your breaths uneven and raspy. You wanted to quench the ache in your throat but even the idea of sitting up seemed to drain too much energy, so you laid there in pain.

You assumed it was mid-afternoon. Kita had drawn the curtains above the window closed, leaving the room dark. You were especially grateful for this, for you knew any light would make your eyes hurt.

Your phone lay unchecked on the table face-down. The fear of worsening your headache is what caused it to stay there. Whoever wanted to talk would have to wait. You switched out the tissue in your nose for a fresh one, groaning again.

You wanted to take a shower so bad. You hated getting sick because you felt disgusting and knew you looked it too. Embarrassment bloomed when the events from this morning played in your mind.

Aran’s gonna joke about that for weeks.

A soft knock from the door drew you away from your thoughts. That’s probably Kita. A hoarse “come in” fell from your chapped lips and you internally cringed at how awful you sounded, even if it was just your childhood friend.

“You look like shit.”

That was not Kita.

“Suna? what the fuck?”

“Shut Up. You’re going to hurt your throat worse.”

Is this what I get for saying fuck you? I apologize so much anything but this please

“You’ve gone through two boxes of tissues already? Kita wasn’t lying, damn.”

You turned your head away from Suna’s voice, attempting to cover your sick-stricken face. Out of all people. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Suna- the two of you actually got along (if you count bickering back and forth all the time getting along). The problem was you happened to have a humongous crush on him.

The wing spiker had gotten on your nerves at first- smirks hidden behind a hand, foot sticking out to trip you in the hallway, drawing on your notes- he was almost unbearable. But as the both of you got older, you started returning his remarks, nudging him lightly into lockers, laughing at the twins together and sharing footage of their stupid fights.

Your crush had crept up on you almost unknowingly until one day he slung an arm over your shoulder and shot you one of his signature smirks and you were gone. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Earth to y/n, hello y/n.”

“What.”

“Ah-ah, no speaking, remember?” You shot him a glare, receiving that smirk yet again. You cursed at the butterflies swarming your stomach.

Infuriating.

“You’re shivering.”

It was a simple comment. You realized after a beat that he was right and pulled the blanket farther up your body. He sat down the bag he held in his hand and made his way over to your bed. You squirmed in protest, trying to scooch away from his outstretched hand. Your actions caused Suna’s brows to furrow, a small line creasing on his forehead.

“I’m just going to check if you still have a fever,” he whispered, moving forward despite your futile attempts at moving away. You gave in, allowing him to gently place his hand on your forehead.

He wasn’t terribly close, he had been closer to you before this, but this felt different. More intimate.

“You’re burning up,” he said, leaning back with a sigh. “Sit tight, I’ll start a bath for you.”

You tried to keep your swarming thoughts at bay with no luck. Your crush, Suna Rintaro, is drawing a bath for you. A bath. He’s taking care of you.

Why is he being so nice? This has to be a set up, or Kita probably forced him. There’s no other way he would willingly be doing this...is there? You shut down the thought as quickly as it came. No sense in getting flustered over nothing. No need to fuel your growing crush.

You weren’t fit to complain anyways. The exact thing you wanted is being done right now, so you did as you were told, slightly sitting up to fetch yet another tissue. The pounding in your head still hadn’t ceased and a sudden cough racked your body. You wanted to cry- and you didn’t cry often. But you felt horrible.

“Hey, you okay?”

Apparently you hadn’t held up your facade well enough because a look of concern washed over Suna’s face the instant he stepped back into the room. You shook your head lightly in response to his question, feeling tears welling up behind your eyelids in spite of your attempts to keep them at bay.

The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of Suna. It was practically a death wish. You could imagine the jokes and poking laughter he would send your way over the next few weeks, and it made you feel even worse.

“Hey, hey now, look at me.”

The words were whispered closer to you than you anticipated. Suna had sat down on the edge of your bed while you were caught up in your thoughts, that same line present between his brows. You fought the urge to touch it, facing away from him again and reaching up to wipe your eyes.

“I’m fine.” That instigated a scoff.

“No you’re not. Now c’mon, let’s get you into the bath. You’ll feel better.”

Right. A bath. Despite the fact that Suna’s presence was wearing you thin, a bath sounded great. The only problem was, you knew you were too weak to walk to your bathroom across the hall. It took so much energy to even sit up, much less actually get on your feet.

Suna must have sensed something was wrong because in mere seconds he was lifting the heavy blanket off of your body and moving closer. Your breath hitched when he moved one strong arm under your back and another under your knees, eyes concentrated.

“Put your arm around my neck,” Suna murmured. You failed to notice the blush that had lifted to his ears because your own was blossoming on your face, making your already warm cheeks heat up even more.

This is purgatory.

You did as he said, lightly wrapping your arm up his shoulder and around his neck. He picked you up in one smooth motion, shocking you. You knew he worked out because of volleyball, but jesus christ. Your head throbbed in protest to the movement, and you winced involuntarily.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

“S’fine.”

Your heart was beating frantically in your chest from the proximity. You were so close you could see the long eyelashes that framed his eyes, light traces of black eyeliner around the corners. You saved that in the back of your mind to ask about later.

Suna carried you into the bathroom and placed you gently on the counter. You pushed away the noise of protest that you wanted to let out from the loss of contact. No need to embarrass yourself even more.

“I’ll get you some clothes and leave them outside, take as long as you want.”

You murmured a small thank you as you watched him move towards the door. You hated that you missed him already.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here the whole time.”

“Like I care.”

“Yea, okay princess.”

You glared at him as he closed the door behind him with a small chuckle. Princess. You fumed at the reaction you had to the pet name.

This is horrible. I’m horrible. I’ll just blame it on him. Him and that stupidly hot smirk.

The bath became increasingly inviting as you sat, eventually leading you to strip of your dirty clothes and step into the warm water. It felt amazing. After a few minutes you felt your eyes begin to droop, the steam luring you to sleep.

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

You didn’t know how long you had slept but judging by the temperature of the water, at least 15 minutes, maybe longer. The water hadn’t cooled completely but had lost its comfortable warmth. Begrudgingly you stepped out of the water and dried off.

You wrapped the towel around yourself and padded towards the door, opening it to retrieve the clothes Suna said he left for you. Just like he said, a small stack of clothes laid on the floor. You grabbed them and faced back towards the sink, wincing at your reflection in the mirror.

You really did look awful. Embarrassment settled into your bones again as you unfolded the clothes to put them on. A small part of your brain pointed out that they were big, too big to be your clothes, but a fit of coughs cut off your train of thought.

A knock came from the door. “Y/n? You okay?”

“Ye-“ Another cough broke off your sentence.

“Knock twice if you’re dressed.”

A small smile crept up on your face at the thought of Suna being considerate. You knocked on the door twice signaling him that it was okay for him to come in. A moment later it opened. Suna was holding what seemed to be a cup of tea in his hands and you reached for it with a sigh.

“Lavender, right?” You halted in your movements.

“Yea...how did you-“

“I pay attention.”

Your face flushed. His gaze never faltered from your face. How did he say that so casually?

“You look good in my clothes.”

So that’s why they were big. You looked in the mirror again, eyes locking in on the large “Inarizaki Volleyball” plastered on the front of the black material.

“Should wear ‘em more often.”

“Shut- shut up.”

“Mhm, okay. Feelin’ better?” You nodded.

“A little. Still feel like shit.”

“Look it, too.”

“Thanks, asshole.”

A light chuckle escaped him and he moved closer towards you. Something felt different. You noticed his eyes linger on you longer, many lapses of silence filled the spaces where playful arguing usually was.

“Cap texted me and asked to bring you soup, he had to do some more shit before he came over.”

“Hm.”

“What do you mean, hm?”

You didn’t get it. Why of all people would Kita send Suna to tend to you? What about Aran? Osamu? Hell, even Atsumu would have been higher on the list than Suna. Maybe…

“That bastard.”

“Woah now, what did Cap do to you?”

Kita was one of the only people who knew about your crush. Of course he would pull some strings to get Suna to come over. That little-

“Hey now pretty thing, don’t frown too much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

It was then you noticed a light touch on your forehead, right in between your eyebrows. Suna was rubbing the space there, just like you had wanted to do to him.

You hoped Suna couldn’t tell how fast your heart was beating or just how much you knew you were blushing.

After a moment of silence Suna still hadn’t removed the touch on your face. He met your eyes, slowly moving to cup your cheek.

“Why are you here, Rin?” His thumb stroked your cheek with a feather-like graze and you swore you saw his eyes flit downwards to your lips. “To take care of you, of course.”

“You’re going to catch my cold.”

“You’ll just have to pay me back later, yeah?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the corners of his mouth edging upwards.

what the fuck did i do to deserve this?

You pushed his hand away and looked away from his gaze. You could manage standing from afar and pining, sure, but what you couldn’t deal with was Suna messing around with you like this. You ignored the ache in your chest, choosing to cover it up by reaching for another tissue.

“Y/n.” You ignored him.

“Y/n, look at me.” You braced your arms on the bathroom sink with a sigh.

“What, Suna.”

“Rin. It’s Rin, to you.” You scoffed.

“Why am I any different than anyone else?”

“Because…”

You turned to face him again, confusion and slight annoyance bubbling under your skin. “Because what?” Suna groaned and ran a hand over his face. “You’re so oblivious.”

Okay, now you were annoyed.

“Oblivious? How am I oblivious?”

“Because you haven’t realized how different you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you fucking messing with me Suna? Look, I’m in no mood for your stupid games-“

“Would you shut up for one second and think.”

You leaned back against the sink with a cough, wincing as another throb of pain shot through your head. Any traces of anger or annoyance vanished from Suna’s face in an instant. He left the bathroom and you heard him rustling through the bag he left in your room. He returned with a bottle of pills and an ice pack.

“Here. Take these.” You took the small pills from his outstretched hand and washed them down with the now lukewarm tea. “Have you thought about it?” You rolled your eyes dramatically, placing your hand under your chin to mock a thinking position. “No, I don’t think I have.” He rolled his eyes in return. “Fine. Would I be doing this for anyone else? Hm?”

It’s a good point. One you didn’t bother thinking about. Sure, maybe he would do it for his teammates, but that was a hard maybe. He just wasn’t the caretaker type, much less with someone he wasn’t close with. You realized the implication behind his words in an instant.

“You...you like me?”

“‘Bout time you figured that out, sweetheart.”

All of the moments between you two passed through your mind in a frenzy, and you started to laugh. It was hysterical, really. All this time you just knew Suna could never like you back.

i take it back. thank you. sorry for saying fuck you

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He scoffed, “And risk losing my appearance? Hell no,” he said, sending you that damn smirk again.

“You are a menace, Rintaro.”

“Yea, but I’m your menace. You’re stuck with me.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“Oh shush, ya love me.”

“Yea, yea. Now, get me back in my bed. I need to sleep.”

“Inviting me to bed already? Wow y/n.”

“I hate you.” He reached over and pecked your cheek.

“Hate you, too.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#fanfic #suna rintarō #suna x reader #suna rinatro #suna x you #hq fluff #haikyuu x reader

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the--descension · 3 years

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i would die for a "how to use html and css to format ao3" lesson from you 👀 no pressure but i'm genuinely in awe :)

Hello! So sorry it’s taken me ages to get to this.

It's no pressure at all! I have tried to cover the basics of HTML/CSS on AO3 here, and instead of writing very extensively about the syntax which is very Google-able, I have tried to include little tips and tricks that have come in handy for me.

This, by no means, is a complete guide but I hope it can get you started with HTML and CSS on AO3!

It got pretty long, so the answer’s below the cut.

Okay, so let’s start at the very beginning, shall we?

What is HTML and CSS?

Well, HTML is Hyper Text Markup Language and CSS is Cascading Style Sheets.

But that is something that probably doesn’t help a lot, so to put it very simply, HTML provides the structure of a webpage while CSS does the styling, that is, fixing how and where the elements should exist, how to shape them, how to space them, all so that the webpage looks great.

Something to keep in mind is that all web pages can run only on HTML but the end result is not going to be something that’s nice to look at. In fact, without CSS, the page might not even make a lot of sense. Here, take a look at Tumblr itself with all CSS disabled (there’s a very useful extension called Web Developer that allows you to do this):

Not very nice to look at, but all the elements of the page are here only with the help of HTML.

And look, this is what the above section looks like with CSS enabled:

This was just a brief visual walkthrough to show what HTML and CSS really do, but let’s move on to HTML and CSS in the world of AO3.

Where does the HTML and CSS go on AO3?

The HTML part of the code is put into the text box when you post a new story/new chapter. You must have noticed the two options — Rich Text and HTML — and it’s important to have HTML selected for AO3 to identify the HTML tags that you’ll be using.

All your content goes into this textbox. Whatever text you may be writing, whatever images you may be hosting, whatever links you might want to add— everything goes here.

Now, for styling all the content that you’ve put into the textbox, you need CSS, and that happens through work skins. It’s super simple, and all you have to do is go to Skins on your AO3 panel and then to My Work Skins, and then create a new work skin where you can dump all of your CSS code.

Okay, so onward we go.

How to HTML and CSS?

I’m no expert in web design and my knowledge mostly comes from Coursera, one summer internship, one class in college, and extensive online searching. And, I’ll tell you this, the most I have learnt is from extensive online searching.

Because at the very heart of it, web design is not so much about understanding and applying concepts (as with other coding languages) but more about visualizing elements and testing them out. I must add that this is completely my opinion as a person who rather enjoys data structures and algorithms as compared to web dev, and I’m certain that seasoned web developers will disagree with my views here.

Right, so the online searching. The best in the business when it comes to explaining HTML/CSS is www.w3schools.com. They have sample code, short and sweet explanations, and an online IDE to test your code. Really, it’s a win-win situation.

Alrighty, so now you know where to look for your HTML tags and CSS properties but how do you figure out which ones to use?

HTML Tags

I’ll talk about the HTML that’s required for coding on AO3 exclusively.

But before that— every HTML document has two main parts: the <head> and the <body>. But here on AO3, we only code the <body> which, as its name suggests, holds the content that’s going to appear on the browser. The <head> part is not required for AO3 work skins at all.

Okay, so how to code HTML on AO3? Well, your best friends are going to be the container tags such as <div> and <span>, and the paragraph tag <p>. What these tags do is they create areas on your browser — you can imagine them as small rectangles and squares — where you can put in your content via HTML, and then later style using CSS.

See this? The entire shaded area belongs to a <div> which is styled by a CSS class called “tumblr” (to keep things simple, we’ll only focus on CSS classes, and not id’s. It won’t really hamper developing a workskin in any way.)

This above belongs to a <p> that is styled by a CSS class “tumblrbody”. And, this <p> exists within the <div> mentioned above.

Here’s a <span> styled using the CSS class “tumblrtags”, which comes within the <div> and <p> we just discussed.

Basically, the idea is that the entire page will have to be divided into all these subsections, nested within each other if required, so that they can then be styled using CSS.

Other HTML tags that come in handy are the <a> and <img> tags.

The <a> or anchor tag is used to embed links. Want your reader to be led to a separate page while they’re reading your story? This is it. (This one’s quite common, and authors use them quite frequently in their notes to link to their Twitter/Tumblr etc.)

The <img> tag is used to embed images as the name suggests.

See how the picture is within an <img> tag styled by a CSS class “tumblrimg”?

Again, I’m not talking about the syntax of these tags or how they have to be written because that’s something which can very easily be found on w3schools or any other web dev tutorial website.

So, that’s pretty much about HTML. Now, CSS.

CSS Properties

So, when I talk about how most of my web dev happens through thorough internet searching, I’m mostly talking about CSS. Because HTML tags aren’t difficult to remember, they stay in memory when you keep designing web pages, but CSS properties... ugh.

But before we begin, a short note on CSS classes. To simplify matters you can look at them as labels given to your HTML container tags (<div> for example). Once you assign the label to your HTML element, you can then style that label in your CSS, and introduce properties to it which you want to see in your HTML. It basically forms the link between your HTML and CSS.

Say, I have a <div> that I want to style, then I’ll give it a label like this: <div class=”mongoosesurprise”>Your code</div>. The class name is mongoosesurprise, and when I have to style that particular <div>, I’ll have CSS code that looks like this:

Now, about CSS properties.

You see all the words in white followed by a colon? max-width? border? background-image? That’s it— CSS properties. I can never remember if it is maxwidth or max-width, whether it’s margin-right or right-margin, whether it’s padding-right or right-padding, and that’s where the Googling comes in.

Again, like with HTML, I’ll only talk about CSS on AO3. Unlike regular CSS, CSS here always has to start with #workskin. And then, #workskin can be followed by our class name. (The class name must be preceded by a fullstop though, like in the picture above.)

My CSS design procedure is all over the place. I entirely work on the basis of trial and error. I keep adjusting properties like max-width and padding and margin to see how the elements fit best. (It doesn’t take me as long as it did four-five years ago to estimate these values and I’d attribute that to practice and inspecting a lot of web pages. On a related note, it’s great to learn web design by inspecting other pages.)

I realize this isn’t great advice but like I said, it’s always been about trial and error when it comes to CSS. What I can say conclusively is that with properties width, height, display, position, padding, and margin most of your HTML tags will be placed properly. But when it comes to styling, the list is really quite endless. From a number of font-related properties to border, there’s a lot— and, thus, Google.

And, finally, what you must know for HTML/CSS on AO3 is how to host images.

Hosting Images

If you want your work to contain images, it’s best to host them somewhere online. Imgur is a great option; it’s free and really simple to use. Once the image is uploaded, you can get the share links and put it in your HTML <img> tag (under the src attribute— again, very syntactical so I’m not getting into that), or if you want you can put it in your CSS as an attribute for the property “background-image” (like in the code above).

You’ll have to make minor changes to the share link though, that is, add the image extension (.png or .jpg) to the end of the link. Also, sometimes the image doesn’t render if there’s no ‘i’ preceding ‘imgur.com’. Here’s a sample link that works perfectly: http://i.imgur.com/aSMSztl.png.

And, I think that’s pretty much it.

This covers the absolute basics of how to code HTML/CSS on AO3. But I’d like to repeat that by no means is this everything. If there’s a particular area you’d want me to explain, please feel to drop in an ask!

Happy coding!

#antarcticasx #html/css #ao3 #workskins #i'll tag this as #zutara #in case anyone else reading 'it would have been you' wants to know

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swtltlmrvlgrl · 3 years

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Accidents Happen

Summary:

The story is set in an alternative MC universe where Tony Stark is still alive and is paying for Peter Parker’s college tuition fees. The college life is not really something that he looks forward to, especially when he’s far away from Ned and MJ. But luckily he was able to meet the reader!

This story is part of my one-shot compilations inspired by the song “You Shine” from the musical “Carrie”, wherein two people see the way each other shines.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Fluff, awkward university students, accident, injury

Word Count: 2,906

First Day of School. Peter Parker cringes at the thought. It’s not that he hates school, he just feels uneasy at the thought that he’s new and he doesn’t have his friends, Ned and MJ, with him.

And I’m Spider-Man, I have better things to do, he thought.

If it wasn’t for his promise to Mr. Stark, to finish his college degree in exchange for full access to the Avengers Compound and all the tech that comes with it, he would’ve webbed his way out of the school before he could even get in the school.

Tony Stark, a genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist, initially wanted to enroll Peter in the most elite school in America but good thing Peter was able to convince him not too. With the looks of how the students dress up and the amount of cars outside the parking area, this would’ve gotten much worse if he followed Mr. Stark’s initial plan. Peter adjusts his second-hand, thrift-store-bought backpack and walks straight towards his classroom.

Before entering the classroom, he double checks the text written on his ID to see if it matches the name of the room. He slowly enters the room and lo-and-behold, a classroom that can be converted to an IMAX movie theater, welcomes him.

He scans the room and decides to sit on the desk located a few meters away from the exit door. With his elbow on the desk and his chin resting on the palm of his hand, he observes the students already forming groups amongst themselves. Peter made no attempt to join a clique or to join any group, just looking at his wrinkled plaid shirt over his 5-year old white shirt, he knows he doesn’t belong. But he knows that’s not enough of a reason to just stop making new friends.

You’re an Avenger, man. With all the courage that he could muster, he scans the room and tries to find at least one person who hasn't had any chance to make friends yet.

Before he could turn around to check if the seat behind him is also empty, you walk towards Peter’s direction. You were wearing a blue oversized sweatshirt. A tinge of reds were peaking through the gaps between the folds of your black denim pants and white sneakers also caught Peter’s attention.

This is my chance.

Before Peter could even speak with you, a voice coming from the professor disrupted Peter’s plans.

“Hi class. Good morning.” The professor flashes his name and the subject name on the screen of the projector. “For today, I will be discussing the syllabus, I think we’ll finish early. I won’t be sharing the soft copy of my slide, so please take down notes.”

Bummed that he wasn’t able to talk to you, Peter made a mental note to at least try to start a conversation with you after class. He then rummages through his things, only to realize that he wasn’t able to bring any pens. He vaguely remembers Aunt May borrowing it earlier, but he’s not really sure if she was able to return it. “Oh no.” He whispers and takes out his notebook instead.

Peter is in the middle of pretending that he’s taking down notes, when he feels a soft tap on his shoulders.

“You can borrow this if you want.” You offer a ballpen to Peter.

Peter is taken aback by this sudden interaction.

“Ah!” You exclaim. “Don’t worry, the case is pink but the ink’s black.”

“T-thanks.” Peter stuttered. “I - I don’t mind the color.”

I don’t mind the color?? What the hell does that mean?! Peter smiles at your direction while mentally cursing at his awkward self on the inside.

-----

The professor finishes up his lecture and you start to fix up your things.

“Thank you for this.” Peter interrupts, while you were in the middle of putting your notebook in your black leather backpack. “I-I left my pen at home and -” With his left hand, he rubs his nape, as he hands you the pen with his right. “I’m Peter, by the way, Peter Parker.”

“Y/N. Y/N, L/N.” You respond and push back the pen. “You can have the pen for a while. You’ll probably need that for your next classes.”

“Oh. Uh!.” That… makes sense. Not gonna lie, Peter was a little surprised by your response, he definitely did not include that in his list of possible scenarios. “Right. I’ll just return this tomorrow.”

“Sure! What time’s your lunch tomorrow?” You ask, as the two of you walk out of the room. “My lunch time is...” He looks at the back of his ID, “a little early… 11:30AM. How about you?”

“Ow. Too bad. Mine’s 12nn.”

Your small pout wasn’t left unnoticed (and it was a little cute and Peter couldn’t help but smile.) “Wanna compare schedules?” Peter asks.

“Sure!” you answer excitedly.

“So…” Peter scans your schedule. "We’re classmates in… Literature… and…”

“History.” You add. The two of you looked at each other and smiled.

“I guess we’ll see each other a lot?” Peter comments.

“Yeah. I hope so.” You answer and smile at him.

-----

The two of you started eating together ever since the day returned the pen to you. Seating next to Peter is probably one of the best decisions that you made in your life. Having someone to eat with during lunch time was a thorn out of your chest because eating alone is one of your fears.

Generally, it takes a long time before you can adjust yourself to someone (contrary to the popular belief that you’re “friendly’), but Peter’s obvious awkwardness and warmth just made it more comfortable for you. Knowing that someone is as shy as you, but still trying to converse with you is something that you really appreciate 0 it makes you want to try to converse too.

From having lunch together, you two ended up walking home together, as well. Some days you would wait for him, some days he would wait for you and then some days he has to go earlier because he had something to do for Mr. Stark. Walking home together wasn’t really something that you explicitly told each other to do, it just felt like a natural thing to do.

“Hey.” you say, one day. “Let’s go to the clinic on our way home.”

“Why?” Peter asks, his voice sounds a little worried.“ Do you feel sick?”

You don’t answer and continue walking instead. After arriving at the clinic, you open the door and Mary, the University nurse, greets you with a warm smile.

“Y/N! What’s up?” Mary inquires.

“Hi Mary!” You stride inside and Peter follows. “Can I have some of your bandages?”

“Sure! Why? Don’t tell me you got injured again.” Mary echoes your soft chuckle. “No, not me this time.”

Mary pauses whatever she’s doing and observes you, as you point at the empty chair to where Peter can sit while you look for the bandages in the cabinet. Peter looks a little confused. With a white square bag in one hand, you approach the chair where Peter was seated.

“Give me your hand.” You instruct Peter, he hands you his left hand. “Your other hand, you silly.” You smile.

“I don’t think -” The pain he felt after you touch his right hand stops him mid-sentence.

“Sorry.” You whisper. Peter was wearing a long-sleeved flannel shirt that you had to slide up. His hand is swollen as you expected.

“I-” Peter starts. “I fell from the stairs.” Of course that is a lie. Because, he, in fact, fell from a building because he was running late for Literature class. He didn’t really mind it, because it happens all the time and he knows he’ll heal eventually.

You gently place a cold compress on Peter’s hand. “I noticed that you were having a hard time writing a while ago.” You pause for a while and look at him. “You don’t have to explain anything Peter. Plus, since you injured your dominant hand, I just thought you might need help with wrapping this up.”

“My mom’s a nurse.” You mention, while wrapping the bandage around Peter’s hand. “We used to pretend to be injured and wrap bandages during play time.”

Peter hums, amused. “You’re amazing, you know.” He comments. “You’ve always been like this since the day we first met. It’s like, you can read my mind.”

You laugh. “I don’t know why, but I always get that comment about me.” You pull down and button up Peter’s Sleeve. “But I don’t think I’m amazing, though.”

Before Peter could say anything, you stand up, fix the chair and return the bandage to where you got it. “Let’s go home?”

Peter nods and you bid goodbye to Mary.

“Bye, Mary. Thanks.” Peter echoes and waves his hand briefly.

“Take care, you two.” Mary responds.

-----

On your way home, Peter stops in his tracks and points at the ice cream truck by the park. “Hey. Let’s get some ice cream. Sit by the bench over there.” He pauses and looks at you. “I’ll go get you some. My treat.” He winks and runs towards the truck.

You sit down on the bench located under a tree, stretch your arms a little while taking a breath of fresh air. A few moments later, you see Peter striding towards the bench. He stops in front of you, with two ice creams in his left hand - his fingers strategically intertwined to make sure the ice creams won’t fall down. One of the ice cream was probably cookies and cream flavored and the other one was chocolate for sure.

“You know” You comment, as you reach out for what you assume as the cookies and cream flavored ice cream. “If you can hold two ice cream cones in one hand you should might as well try to write with it.”

Peter laughs and sits next to you and hands you a paper towel. “I’ll put that on my to-do list.”

You grab the paper towel that Peter handed you and the two of you proceed eating. You were silent for a whole minute until Peter started speaking again.

“I still think you’re amazing though.” Peter comments. While you were focusing on eating your ice cream, he looked at you briefly and looked away when you started laughing.

“Why are you bringing up that topic again?” A layer of ice cream got stuck on your throat making you cough a little, you clear your throat, and continue. “I don’t think being… hmm… how should I call this?” You pause to think for a second. “Sensitive? I don’t think it’s something amazing.”

“Why is that?” Peter was curious. “It’s like you’re a mind-reader! It’s amazing!”

You chuckle. “Why? Are you going to recruit me to the Avengers or something?”

Did she notice that I’m Spider-Man, too? “Hehe-he.” Peter laughs awkwardly and continues eating his ice cream.

“But seriously though.” You continue, while chewing some of the ice cream cone bits in your mouth. “As much as being...err...hyper-sensitive with other people’s non-verbal nuances is a good thing, especially when I have a friend like Peter Parker who tends to keep their struggles to themselves.”

“Hey! I don’t do that…”

You glare at him, smile a little and take a deep breath. “It’s not particularly amazing when I have to stand in front of many people…” You finish up with your ice cream and crumple the piece of paper towel on your hand. “...and notice every little change in expression each time you utter a word… Or when you sit alone in the middle of crowded places and just feel the eyes of people staring at you, judging you.” You look at Peter and smile a little more as you try to make it look like it’s not that big of an issue.

Peter had finished his ice cream as well. “Y/N…” Peter might not be as sensitive as you, but he looks at you as if he sees beyond your half-hearted smile. Peter moves and scoots closer to you while adjusting himself to face you. He takes your hand, opens it, and takes the balled up paper towel that you’ve been gripping while you were speaking. With his left hand, he puts the paper towel into his bag’s side pocket, while making sure that his right hand never left yours.

“I’m sorry… I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable.” You look at Peter. He was gazing at you, looking straight into your eyes.

“It’s fine, Peter. It’s not like you -”

“Y/N.” Peter cuts you off. “Whether or not I wanted to, I made you feel uncomfortable and I have to apologize. Okay?” Peter pauses. “Can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?” You ask.

“I - I’m not as sensitive as you and I might not always notice whether you feel bad or not.” Peter continues. “If it’s alright with you… can you promise to not hide your feelings when you’re with me? I mean - it’s difficult, you know. Having to hide your feelings all the time. At least if you’re with me… even if it’s for a short time, you don’t have to carry the burden of hiding it.”

You smile at Peter, tears welling up on your eyes. “Peter…”

“But if you’re not comfortable with that, it’s fine -”

You release your hand from Peter’s hand, form a fist and raise your pinky finger. “I promise.”

Peter smiles and entangles his pinky finger into yours. “Promise.”

“Just promise that you won’t fall down the stairs again.” You joke.

Peter chuckles while reaching out for your face to wipe the tear that you didn’t notice fall from your eye.

“If you have presentations where you have to speak in front of the class, whether I’m your classmate or not, I’ll try to be there and maybe you can try to focus on me?” Peter clears his throat. “I mean… just to keep your attention out of the other people.”

You laugh and Peter joins you too. “Thanks, Pete.”

-----

“I have something to buy at the grocery.” You tell Peter while the two of you are waiting for the traffic light to turn green. “You can go ahead.”

“Take care!” Peter shouts as the two of you go your separate ways.

“You too!” You shout back and make your way towards the grocery.

Peter waits until you’re out of sight before he goes to the alleyway to change into his suit and start his patrol. He webs his way up the building and gets a glimpse of you entering the grocery. He nods a little and webs away to find people he needs to help out.

-----

Normal. That’s what Peter would probably describe the first hour of his patrol today - stopping thieves from running away, saving cats that got stuck on a tree and telling a lost man the directions. It was all just normal everyday, neighborhood Spider-Man things.

He was about to take a break when he felt the hair in his arms stand up.

Peter tingle.

“Y/N!” He exclaims as he hurries down towards the direction of the grocery where he last saw you.

I hope I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong. He repeats in his head. Y/N, please, please be safe.

-----

You were on your way to cross the street when a running child and stumbled into you, causing your groceries to fall down. You squat to pick up the groceries, you look up to search for the child, only to find him still running.

Towards the pedestrian lane.

Red light.

Huge truck.

Fast.

You stand up and dash towards the kid, leaving your groceries scattered across the pavement.

Will I make it?

You run as fast as you can.

I won’t make it. The truck’s too fast.

You run faster.

A little more.

You reach for him and you push him towards (what you think is) safety as hard as hard as you can. All the energy in your body had left you and the last thing you can remember was the loud honk from the truck and then everything was silent.

-----

Your eyes are still closed when you feel an arm tightly wrapped around you. You look up only to find yourself swinging in the air while being held and carried by none other than Spider-Man.

The two of you reach what seems to be the top of some building, you're not even sure what building it is because everything happened so fast.

Spider-Man put you down at last.

“Thank you.” You tell him as you pat down and straighten your clothes. “I’m sorry you had to...carry me. Is the - uhm - is the kid safe?” You ask him.

Spider-Man chuckles. “You were literally about to die a while ago and the first thing you think of is the well-being of other people.” He sighs. “Are YOU okay?”

You pause for a second to the sudden idea that popped into your mind while you're face-to-face with THE Spider-Man.

Familiar.

Oddly familiar.

His voice is a little muffled, but you know that voice. You hear that voice every day. And that height. You take a step forward. That scent.

That warmth.

“Peter?” You step closer to the man that you’re 90% sure is your friend, Peter Parker, dressed in the Spider-Man costume. “Is that you?”

A/N: It's my first time writing for Peter Parker! How was it?? Haha. I hope I did his character justice.

I'm so excited to write five different stories with different pairings inspired from the song "You Shine". I haven't watched the musical but whenever I hear that song, I feel so encouraged and it makes me feel assured that somewhere out there, there are people who can see good things in me that I can't see for myself. Next up, Bucky Barnes x Reader! Look forward to it!

Masterlist

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker reader-insert #peter parker x you #peter parker and reader #peter parker fanart #peter parker oneshot #peter parker college au #spider-man x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman reader-insert #spiderman fluff #peter parker x y/n college au #peter parker imagines #peter parker fanfic #tony stark is alive

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ps-im-blind · 3 years

Note

Hi, I’m trying to write image descriptions. Any tips? Can screen readers read emojis? Thanks!

Hello! I know that there are a lot of other blogs that have many more (and frankly better written) tips than I could give, so be sure to check those out (I'll probably add some to this post later, but if anyone else has some posts they can add that would also be very helpful).

The best tip I can think of off the top of my head is to not overthink it too much. A lot of the time, when trying to implement accessible standards, we can feel overwhelmed and pressured to make everything absolutely perfect in order to show our support or acceptance. While the intentions might be good, so much pressure and frustration can often be a "turn off" and lead people to quit on accessibility altogether. Personally, I would rather be able to interact with most of a mutual's posts with a simple description than to rarely be able to interact with a few descriptions that describe every detail of an image. The best way to start making image descriptions is to just...start. Don't worry, you'll learn over time specifics about image descriptions, whether from this blog (or other blindness blogs) or just from VIPs who interact with your posts.

The second thing I would say, is to keep it concise. Part of keeping the images simple is to describe only what is most important. For example, if you have a quote or text in an image, it isn't as important to know the font or the color and background as it is to know what the text actually says. (does this makes sense?)

Lastly...please don't put your ID's under a cut. Just. Don't.Hope that helps. If you have questions about a specific type of image (like an aesthetic image or piece of art) let me know!(Also sorry. This ask has been in my box for months, and I'm just now getting to it...)

#image descriptions #accessibility #ask a VIP

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kikilefangirl · 3 years

Text

New Light

Barry Allen x Reader

(Quick Note: Happy Inauguration Day! After all the craziness and stress four years in the making, I wanted to write someone as kindhearted and sweet as Barry Allen.)

(Word Count: 1837)

“I’m on my way, Felicity, my train was running late—“

A hard shoulder slamming into your chest cut you off mid sentence and knocked you all the way to the hard ground.

Between the roar of trains coming in and out of the platform, shuffling footsteps, and your friend’s worried yelling through the phone, disoriented was a nice way of putting it. Your still head was spinning as you stumbled to your feet.

“Oh my, oh my god, I am so sorry—let me, uh— and you’re...already...up.” He rambled.

So it was a man who ran into you. And he was going on and on nervously as he picked up your fallen items. He had a thin build and dark hair, but you could only focus on his clumsy hands and apologetic eyes.

“It’s totally fine, just be careful next time.” You joked and pushed your braids away from your face.

The man rose to his feet and held your phone and purse out towards you. As you took them and gave him your best smile. There was something about his absentmindedness that was kind of charming and intriguing.

“I, uh, um...Barry Allen. I’m Barry Allen....Barry is my name.” He said.

You held in your laugh for fear of flustering him more and settled on a curious gaze. Barry wiped a hand on his back pocket and offered it to you.

“Nice to meet you, Barry. I’m Y/N.” You replied as you shook his hand.

You decided to omit the Queen part of your name, for now. Barry seemed sweet and genuinely interested in you. Having a dead father, a brother back from the dead, an out of control sister, and a mother on trial for mass murder tended to scare away any potential partners. You shifted your weight.

You had to get going sooner rather than later, but not wanting to let Barry go just yet, you took out a pen out of your purse and wrote your number on his palm.

“Try not to mow anyone else down today, and maybe give me a call if you're still in town, Barry.” You told him.

He stuttered through a response and turned a bright pink. You nodded with a smile and promptly walked off to your awaiting car.

“Barry Allen.” You repeated his name out loud once inside and heat built up in your cheeks. You hoped he’d call.

...

Oliver was waiting in his office for you when you walked up to the entrance of Queen Consolidated.

Pushing through the glass doors, you didn’t spare a second thought on the curious stares people sent you, you had spent your whole life getting them. A ping on your phone made you smile as soon as you saw it.

Sorry I ran you over earlier...I don’t really know places to go out here, but I could find somewhere if you still wanted to go out with me?—Barry Allen (from the train station, sorry again!)

A warm, bubbly feeling took over your whole body. Barry gave you a feeling you had rarely experienced: he was genuinely good. You needed some positivity in the midst of your chaotic life.

Before you could reply back, a woman’s voice and body stood in your way. You had only made it to the front desk.

“Excuse me—“

“No unauthorized personnel, here.” She explained.

Your eyes narrowed into slits as you looked up from your phone. Tons of other people were free and clear to pass by, but of course you, the black girl was stopped. Clicking your tongue, you tried to move past her.

“Do you have an ID for Queen Consolidated? If you don’t I’m going to have to ask you to leave before I call the police.” She said.

Bullshit.

“My name is Y/N Queen. Move.” You sniped. You were already running late as it was, but today of all days a white girl just had to try you.

“I’ve never heard of you. I’m calling the police.” She threatened. Her hand was already on the buttons. You huffed. What had started as an annoyance had escalated into full blown danger.

You quickly dialed your brother’s number. He picked up on the second ring.

“You’re late, Y/N.” Oliver chastised from the other end.

“Actually, I’m downstairs being blocked from the elevator, in a building we own, and a company we have shares in. Get down here, now.”

For a few tortuous minutes, you stood there waiting at a stalemate. The security was bounding down the steps; they were big men in dark suits and earpieces.

You ran your tongue on the roof of your mouth, a mix of anger and fear and shame. Oliver wasn’t supposed to bail you out. You were just as much a Queen as he was and should’ve had the same access as he did. You ground your teeth and folded your arms.

You were relieved when the elevator dinged and Oliver stepped out of it.

His eyes widened in surprise for a split second, before the realization of what was happening sunk in. To anyone that didn’t know him, Oliver might have looked calm. But the clenched jaw, pulled back lip corners and the way he furled and unfurled his hands as he adjusted his suit said otherwise.

“Who told you that you could physically block and try to remove my sister from the area?” He said with a straight face, staring directly at the woman.

You smirked as she stumbled through a range of bullshit excuses and ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Queen’ over and over again to no avail.

Oliver protectively ushered you into the elevator, but before the doors could close you yelled, “Might wanna see who’s hiring!”

On the way up, you brushed off Oliver’s questions and concerns. You had lived your entire life black, this was nothing new to you. But after five years away, it probably was to him. You weren’t a teenager standing by his or your dad’s side anymore.

“I’m fine, Ollie. Drop it, please.” You pleaded.

“That woman was going to call the police on you, Y/N.” He continued, still bewildered.

“I get that being on that island wasn’t your fault, but I’ve held my own as a black woman for five years without you or dad. Things like that are just a part of the package.” You explained.

As the two of you stepped off the elevator, you softened when he gave you a long hug. It was his apology, and you leaned in, accepting it. Five years was a long time away.

“I only came by to check in on you. With the break in and all, plus Mom’s party tonight...” You trailed off.

Oliver offered a small smile as the two of you rounded the corner. You blinked in surprise when you saw none other than Barry Allen talking to Felicity. Your mood instantly brightened.

“Barry!” You called out. At the sound of his name, he saw you and fell flat on his face. Clumsiness was becoming a theme between you two. You hurried over and helped him up.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaimed, but Barry stared at you, confused. You held Barry’s full attention as if no one else was in the room. It was refreshing, really.

“Hi-hi again, Y/N...What are you doing h-here?” He asked. You held Barry’s full attention as if no one else was in the room. It was refreshing, really. Too bad Oliver had to ruin it.

“Barry, how do you know my little sister?” He said it, more than asked it.

Oliver gave Barry an icy glare. The threat in his voice may have had an effect on everyone else, but it made you roll your eyes in annoyance. He just had to add the little sister part. Barry straightened up and swallowed nervously, his Adam’s apple bobbing in the process.

Damn it, Oliver. You two were very hot and cold lately and it bothered you to no end.

“I met him this morning, Ollie, mind your business.” You snapped. You turned back to Barry and smiled.

“There’s a party at our house tonight, you should drop by if my idiot brother doesn’t kill you first. Text me for the address.” You declared. Your eyes burned with defiance as you stormed off, matching Oliver’s mood. You guessed you really were siblings.

As you left, you hoped Barry would show.

...

The annual Queen family Christmas party was honestly, the most awkward two hours of your life.

You, Moira, Thea, and Oliver stood in an almost empty living room. The only guests seemed to be the caterers. Barry hadn’t texted you, either.

“Maybe...people got lost on the way.” You offered. Moira smiled at you and patted your shoulder.

“Thank you, dear, but we all know the real reason. Nobody wants to be seen with the likes of me.” She said. She was right. You shot her an apologetic look and handed her another drink.

Oliver took the opportunity to whisk you away from your mother and sister, “Y/N, help me with the drinks, please.”

You obliged without protest. You had already been stood up by half the city and Barry. Family really was all you had.

“What, Ollie?” You asked in an exasperated tone.

“I know that you took on a lot, while I was on the island. And I know that being the oldest wasn’t easy, especially for you in the public eye. I read the tabloids.”

Oliver’s admission made you a little teary eyed. He was the first person in the family to truly consider you family. He was your big brother. He caught up on all of the horrible headlines and rumors that swirled about you after the news broke about the Queen’s Gambit.

“Which is why I invited someone special, tonight. For you.” Oliver said. You raised a brow in confusion.

“I’m not that great over text.” You turned around and your mouth dropped open a little. It was Barry, in a really nice suit looking finer than ever. You gave him a hug and he took your hand.

“I’m also not a great dancer, I’ll try not to step on your toes.” He admitted. You led him to the dance floor and nodded to the musicians.

“Don’t worry about it. There isn’t much of a crowd to judge you.” You joked.

You and Barry swayed to the music, talking and laughing the whole way through. Barry Allen, you found, really was the ray of light you needed in the moment. The past few months were some of the hardest in your life, filled with dark moments and uncertainty.

As Barry held you and told you corny science jokes and yes, stepped on your toes once or twice, you realized you had never met anyone as sweet and as kind as him.

When the night was over, you couldn’t help but look forward to the next time you saw him.

#black!reader #poc!reader #dctv #barry allen #barry allen x reader #oliver queen #Oliver Queen x platonic! reader #Oliver Queen x sister! reader #the flash #arrow

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snelbz · 4 years

Text

The Ranch {17}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

The Ranch Masterlist

Cassian groaned as he shoveled the last of the manure into the wheelbarrow and Azriel grabbed the handles and pushed it off to the side. With the rain that had blown through the night before, the pen was a muddy, nasty, literal shitty mess. His boots sunk down past his ankles and every step was a battle not to step right out of it, leaving it in the sludge.

The autumn air was finally starting to cool down, but that didn’t stop the sweat from forming on Cassian’s brow. He lifted the hem of his shirt.

“Where’s Nes at today?” Az asked, taking a drink from his bottle. Cassian wasn’t sure if he had water in there or something else, but he shrugged.

“Not sure exactly. She said she had some errands to run and she’d see me later, but that was at eight this morning.”

He suddenly realized he didn’t know how long ago that was. Tomas had been appearing more and more. It seemed like every time the two of them were out, they’d see him.

“I should probably check-in.” He said, pulling his phone from his back pocket. He didn’t even have to open his phone though because he had two missed texts from her.

What time are you meeting me?

And a few minutes after that, he received, Where are you?

It was like a light bulb turned on.

Azriel saw the look on his face. “What happened?”

He looked down at himself, sweaty and up to his knees in manure. “I’m in deep shit.”

Nesta sat in the waiting room, one hand tapping on the side table where her phone was sitting, the other rubbing her growing belly. The bump had decided to finally make its appearance in the last week and both Nesta and Cassian had a hard time not constantly rubbing a loving hand over it.

If he forgot about this appointment, she was going to kill him.

Her phone rang and his name appeared. She tried to keep the bite out of her voice and completely failed as she answered, “Hello.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, in a way of greeting, and it was clear he was completely frazzled.

“They’ll be calling me back any minute, Cass,” she whined, totally not caring that she was whining in a room full of people.

The pregnant ones understood.

“It’s a ten-minute drive, and I’m pulling out of the driveway now,” he said, and true to his word, she could hear the old truck engine revving in the background. “I’m sorry, okay? I was shoveling shit.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You better be here soon or I’ll have your balls.”

There was a pause. “You may want to pick a different threat, that one kind of turns me on.”

Nesta’s lips tightened. “I’m hanging up now.”

“I love you,” he said.

Nesta sighed, loudly and dramatically. “Love you.” Then she hung up, just as the door to the office opened and a nurse stepped out. “Nesta Archeron?”

Grabbing her purse, Nesta brought herself to her feet and followed the nurse down the hall, all by herself, Cassian-less.

Oh, she would have his balls, for sure.

Thirteen minutes later, Cassian was hurrying into the office, an entire room full of patients turning to stare at him. He hurried to the counter, where a young woman was checking in and he waited, not so patiently. When it was his turn, the receptionist didn’t even glance up as she said “Next.”

Cassian stepped up and said, “My fiancée was called back a few minutes ago. Nesta Archeron?”

She continued typing away at her computer. “And?”

Cassian blinked. “And I need to get back there so I can hear my kid’s heartbeat?”

“Are you on the approved list of guests?”

“Approved list of-? Ma’am, I’m the baby’s father.” He was starting to get frustrated. Nesta was literally going to cut his balls off if he missed their gender appointment.

She finally looked up at him, eyes widening at just how much mud and shit he was covered in. “I’m afraid that doesn’t automatically add you to the list. We have to have Ms. Archeron’s approval before we can let you join her.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Can you ask her?”

She went back to typing. “She’s in an examination. I’m afraid I can’t disturb her.”

“For the love…” Cassian pulled out his phone, dialing Nesta’s number.

She answered on the second ring. “Where are you?”

Lovely. She was pissed.

“I’m here. I’m in the lobby. The receptionist won’t let me back.” He glared at her, but she didn’t look up. He knew she heard him though.

Nesta gasped. “Oh, crap, the approved list of guests. I’ll have my nurse add you now.”

She ended the call and Cassian blinked. Why in the hell did everyone know about this stupid list but him?

A nurse in her late twenties came through a door in the office. She handed a slip to the receptionist that he recognized as Nesta’s signature. The receptionist glanced at it and said, “I’ll need to see your driver’s license, Mister…” She glanced down at the form again. “Nazeeri.”

He pulled out his wallet and handed the ID to her, saying “Nazari.”

She typed some information into the computer, the only time she’d done so where Cassian didn’t assume she was trying to ignore him. She handed him his ID back and said, “Follow Claire.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and did as he was told. As soon as they left the waiting room, Claire said, “Sorry about Jenny. She’s been in a bad mood for the past few weeks.”

“Apparently so,” Cassian mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was led through a winding hallway before following the nurse into an open doorway, where Nesta sat on an examination table, her arms crossed.

She took one look at Cassian's appearance and her lips tightened.

“I was-.”

“Yeah, I know,” she snapped, then laid back against the table. “Let’s just do this.”

Exasperated, Cassian sat down in the chair beside her while Claire, who had already taken Nesta’s vitals and information, went to get the doctor.

“I’m sorry,” Cassian said, when the door was shut and they were alone. “It was either this or go get cleaned up and changed and then being late and missing it all.”

“You’re already late,” she said, staring up at the ceiling.

“Okay,” Cassian said, slower. “Later, then.”

“Isn’t this important to you?” She asked. “We’re finding out the gender-.”

“I know, I know,” he said, quickly, and took her hand in his. “And yeah, it’s pretty fucking important, alright? I just lost track of time, that’s all. It was a mess out there.”

She scrunched her nose and looked at him through her side-eye. “You do smell like shit. No wonder the receptionist didn’t want to let you back here.”

Cassian mumbled something along the lines of approved list, my ass, but stood and kissed her softly. “Hi.”

She smiled. “Hi yourself.”

He sat back down and groaned. “This morning was bad. We got so much rain last night.”

Nesta nodded. “When I went to get the eggs out of dry storage, I nearly stepped into a swamp off the back steps.”

“The pen by the house is flooded,” he said, leaning forward and resting his knees on his elbows. “Az and I spent the whole morning moving the herd to the back pasture. He’s gonna go rent a tractor and clean it out today, but I’d guess that the ‘horseback riding’ won’t be happening before dinner.”

Nesta sighed. She was going to have a lot of angry guests over that. But what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t control the weather.

The door opened and the doctor stepped in. “Miss Archeron, how are we feeling today?”

“Good,” she sighed, all things considered. “I’ve yet to puke so far today, so I’m considering it a win.”

The doctor chuckled and pulled up a stool to Nesta’s side. “Well, your vitals look great so all we have to do now is take a look at this baby. Are you ready?”

Nesta nodded, her hand tightening in Cassian’s as the doctor switched the monitor on and pulled out the little device that would be moving over Nesta’s abdomen.

She hated that thing.

It was always unusually cold.

“Pull up your shirt for me, and lower your waistband,” her doctor smiled, waiting patiently as Nesta did so, then she looked up at the screen and waited.

The probe touched her belly and the screen was met with black static, then, a tiny little, gray-blurred being appeared. Cassian couldn’t really tell what was what, but he knew from Nesta’s smile that they were looking at the baby.

Their baby.

He sat in awe, his hand still in his fiancée’s as the doctor showed them the little feet, the little hands, the little head and lips and nose. The baby was real, growing inside of her, it was actually happening - she was becoming a mother. He was going to be a father.

When they were done making sure the baby was growing as it should be, after the measurements were taken and some pictures were snapped, the doctor asked, “Would you still like to know the gender?”

Nesta nodded. “Yes, please, but don’t actually tell us.”

He chuckled. “Gender reveal party?”

She nodded.

He turned the monitor away and typed a few things on the screen, before he printed three black and white images. They went straight into an opaque envelope and he sealed it before handing it to Cassian. “Congratulations.”

He extended a hand and Cassian hesitated, looking down at his own dirty hand. “I don’t think you want to. It’s exactly what you think it is.”

He laughed and said, “Understood. Miss Archeron, I’ll see you in four weeks. Keep an eye on that blood pressure.”

She nodded. “Yes, sir, thank you, Dr. Brigham.”

He smiled and left the room and Cassian slowly turned to look at her. She was beaming and Cassian could barely stand how gorgeous she was.

Pregnancy was treating Nesta well. Her morning sickness was still abhorrent and her back constantly hurt, but aside from that, it wasn’t bad. Her emotions had mellowed out, for the most part, and with Azriel and Maggie’s help around the B&B, they had been able to handle everything they’d thrown at them.

Except for Nesta’s nightly nightmares.

She’d spoken to Dr. Brigham about them and he assured Nesta that weird sleep habits were just a part of pregnancy, including nightmares. So every night, Nesta would wake up in a cold sweat, never remembering anything but the dream. She’d always say the same thing, though:

“He’s getting closer”.

“How does lunch sound?” Cassian asked, helping her off the examination table. “I’m starving.”

Nesta chuckled, “You stink.”

He shrugged. “We’ll sit outside. Come on, baby, when is the last time we got to spend time together that wasn’t about the B&B?

He skimmed his thumb over her cheekbone and she melted into his touch. “Fine. Lunch. But then we have to get back.”

Cassian nodded and flipped the envelope in his fingers. He held it up. “Our baby is in here.”

She laughed again. “Actually, she’s in here.” Nesta lovingly rubbed her stomach.

He raised an eyebrow. “She? Did you see something on that ultrasound that I didn’t?” His eyes narrowed. “Did you peek?”

“No!” She laughed, shaking her head and taking his hand. “Just a...feeling I have. Call it mother’s intuition.”

They left the room and headed back to the lobby, where Nesta made her follow up appointment with the surly faced receptionist. They got to their vehicles and Cassian looked at the envelope again. He glanced up at Nesta. “I’m gonna open it.”

She snatched it from him and stuffed it into her purse. “I’m taking this directly to the bakery.”

“Not even going to let your sisters see it?” Cassian asked, leaning against the truck.

She snorted. “Of course not, they’d tell one of us before the end of the day.”

Cassian laughed, his hand lovingly caressing her bump, and said “I’ll meet you at the restaurant. I love you both.”

She leaned up and kissed him, “I love you, too.”

Cassian got into his truck, the engine roaring to life, and headed off in the direction of the restaurant while Nesta walked the ultrasound to the bakery across the square.

She had the sensation of being watched the whole time, had felt someone’s eyes on her since they walked out of the doctor’s office. As she climbed back in her car, she fought the urge to look around and find him.

She knew he was there, but after so many calls to the police where he’d done nothing except be present, she knew she just had to ignore him. He was in a public place, so was she. There was nothing illegal about what he was doing. He has valid reasons to be where he went, so it couldn’t even be considered stalking, only coincidence and happenstance.

But as she backed out of her parking spot and headed to lunch, she saw him in her rearview mirror. And the look in his eyes said he wouldn’t be content to do nothing forever.

She was safe with Cassian, though.

She believed that, wholeheartedly, which only made her want to haul ass to the restaurant quicker. He was already there when she pulled up, waiting for her at a table outside.

She raised her brows as she walked up to meet him. “Did you order?”

He blinked, then looked down at his appearance. “Do you really want me greeting more strangers like this today?”

Nesta laughed, breathlessly, as she shook her head. “I’ll go inside.”

The little BBQ joint was only a few miles from their house. Nesta went inside and ordered a heap of food, because everything sounded delicious and she just couldn’t choose. After she ordered and went to head back outside, she froze by the door, because she noticed that red truck that had pulled into the far parking space.

Her hands began to shake, nausea began to roll in the pit of her stomach. She slowly looked at Cassian to see if he’d noticed.

He was scrolling through his phone, lost to the world around him. She was thankful she’d ordered their food to go, not because they had planned on leaving, but because there was so much of it. Now, all it would take was a quick mention of nausea and Cassian would go into overprotective daddy mode and take her straight home.

But then he’d also take her straight to bed, and she had too much to do today, on top of feeling well enough to actually take care of the things she needed done.

Cassian finally noticed her frozen on the sidewalk and he smiled at her, but it faltered when he noticed her expression. “What is it?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, just…” She glanced down at the cups in her hand. “Just realized I forgot to fill up our drinks.”

He stood, taking them and kissing her. “You’re looking tired, baby. I’ll get them, you sit that gorgeous self down and I’ll be right back.”

She wanted to protest, to tell him she’d go with him, but she nodded and smiled, sitting where she could see the red truck. She didn’t want her back to him. She needed to be able to see him.

Cassian was quick, and a moment later, he’d come back with not only their drinks, but three plastic bags full of food.

“Ready? We can eat in the cabin. Or outside, somewhere-.”

“Ready,” Nesta breathed, taking her lemonade from him and strutting to her car, where she shut herself inside. “See you at home,” she said to Cassian as he walked behind her, a worried expression on his face as she raced home.

He watched Nesta drive away before pulling himself, and their feast, into the truck. He had seen Tomas, of course, and was watching the red truck now as he pulled onto the road in his rearview mirror. He was hoping Nesta wouldn’t, though, didn’t want to cause her any more worry or stress. So, naturally, around Nesta, Cassian pretended that Tomas didn’t exist.

When he went in to get their drinks, he kept one eye on her the entire time, the other on Tomas out of the tall, glass windows.

They couldn’t spend their lives being scared.

Although Cassian wasn’t scared of Tomas, he was just pissed off. He talked to Azriel and Rhys about it on multiple occasions, but they told him that he should just lay low, there was no point in doing something stupid that would land him in jail while his pregnant fiancée, and Tomas, were still out there.

He had to do something, though.

He was tired of doing nothing.

He was tired of Nesta being afraid, of having the nightmares, of calling the cops only to be told that nothing could be done.

But he didn’t voice a word of it to Nesta.

She had enough going on.

He was back at the ranch within minutes, staying right behind Nesta the entire time. Once they’d pulled onto the main road, he hadn’t been able to see Tomas’s truck anymore.

And that was almost worse than knowing he was with them. Not knowing.

She parked her little car in front of the cabin and waited until Cassian was out of the truck and walking towards her to open her door.

He asked, “You saw him, didn’t you?” A silent nod. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She shrugged. “I didn’t want to worry you. I just wanted to have a nice lunch with my fiancé, but everywhere I turn, my demons are there.”

He set the bags down on the top of her car and wrapped here up in his arms. “He will never, never hurt you again, Nesta. I promise you that. He’ll never get close enough to try.”

She nodded and he kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go inside and eat.”

She made a face of disgust and said, “I’m not hungry now.”

He sighed and said, “How about a relaxing bath, and then we’ll eat?”

“Yes, please,” she sighed. “I’ll go start the water if you put the food away.”

“Deal,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead.

He watched her walk to the back of the house, towards the bathroom and the huge tub in the corner. He waited until the water started running to make a phone call.

He pulled the business card out of his back pocket, deciding that no matter how nice they were, lawyers always looked like scumbags.

The law offices of Vanserra and Family answered and he asked to be patched through to one of the defense attorneys.

“Lucien Vanserra.”

Cassian said, “Luce, hey. It’s Cassian. I know this isn’t exactly your area of expertise, but you got a minute?”

In hushed tones, he explained the situation with Tomas, asking what their options were.

Lucien laid it out for him, basically telling him that they were doing all that they could.

“My only real suggestions,” he said and paused, and Cassian could hear tapping in the background. The drummer never could stop, even at his big kid job. “Start keeping track of when and where you see him. He’s got to be finding out where you are somehow. See if you can notice a pattern of some sorts.”

Cassian nodded, putting the food in the refrigerator. “I can do that. Anything else?”

He heard Lucien sigh. “I’d say a restraining order, but he hasn’t approached either of you since you asked him not to, right? Just shows up...waits?”

He nodded again and then remembered on the phone, he had to speak. “Yeah, never engages, he’s just always there.”

“Then like I said, keep track of when and where you see him.” Lucien added, “And maybe carry a gun.”

He snorted. “You act like I already don’t.”

Lucien laughed and the line was quiet for a minute. “Be careful, Cass. This guy has already made the first move once. What’s to stop him from doing so again?”

The comment sent ice into his veins, but he didn’t want Lucien to realize that, so he joked, “Dude, what are you, a defense lawyer, a criminal or a cop?”

A dark chuckle. “All three. It’s my job to outsmart the police,” Lucien crooned. “Why do you think I’m so good at it?”

“Today is one of those days that I’m glad you’re on our side.” Cass heard the water turn off in the bathroom. “I gotta go, man. Thanks for your help. Send me a bill for your time.”

Lucien laughed and said, “It’s pro bono, as long as you let me defend you when you kill him.”

Cassian chuckled, shaking his head. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He hung up and went into his bedroom. Their bedroom. Soon to be their only room, with a baby.

Cassian hadn’t thought about their living situation until just a few weeks ago when Nesta had been looking at the bedroom wall with an intensity that worried him. When he’d asked what she was looking at, she said she was trying to decide which wall to put the crib on.

Nesta should have been planning the nursery of her dreams, picking out paint colors and themes; should have been helping him put furniture together by explaining the confusing instructions.

Instead she was deciding which piece of furniture to shove out of the way to make room for their child to have somewhere to sleep.

Cassian stripped off his shirt in the bedroom, tossing it directly in the hamper. He walked into the bathroom and found Nesta sitting in the tub. When she saw him, she gave him a soft smile and scooted forward. Stripping off his jeans and socks, he stepped into space she’d given him and sat down, stretching his legs out on both sides of her body. He wrapped his arms around her and began rubbing slow circles on her belly with his thumbs.

Nesta leaned back, loving how safe she felt in Cassian’s arms, how at home it was.

Cassian was amazed at how much Nesta’s belly had been growing in the recent weeks. At first, he felt like it had taken her so long to show at all, now there was a little bump, his baby inside, growing rapidly.

Hopefully the baby was fairly average.

Cassian had been a giant baby, always tall and broad shouldered, even at birth. He weighed nearly thirteen pounds.

If Nesta was going to give birth to a thirteen pound baby, he was pretty sure she’d be kicking his ass and taking away his rights to give her more children.

“So,” he began, quietly, “when is this gender reveal party when I can find out the sex of my own child.”

Nesta snorted and looked up at him over her shoulder. “Tonight, for dinner.”

Cassian blinked. “The bakery is giving you something by tonight?”

“Feyre’s going to pick it up on her way,” Nesta said. “It will only be the six of us, so we can just do it here.”

Cassian nodded, slowly, suddenly feeling guilty, once again, about how much space they had privately available. But Nesta had worked so hard on the B&B, had made her father’s dream a reality.

“You’re in deep thought about something,” Nesta murmured, running her fingers over his knees.

“I want to build a house,” Cassian said. “Here, on the property.”

Nesta’s fingers froze. “We have a house. Three, in fact.”

“This little one bedroom place? And, my cabin? You’re counting those as houses?” Cassian said. “I mean, they’re great for when we were just alone, Nes, and I love my cabin, and intend to keep it there for when I piss you off and you kick me out for the night, which will happen at some point, I’m sure of it…” Nesta chuckled and flicked his knee as he continued, “Look, I just….We don’t have any room for the baby, Nes. And I intend to defy the odds and give you more kids at some point, and what then? We can’t stay in this place, or the cabin, or the main house, with all the guests…”

Nesta nodded, slowly, before leaning back, resting her head against his chest, once more. She looked up at him and he met her eyes. “I know. I’ve thought about that a lot lately, too.”

Cassian took her hands off his knees and intertwined their fingers together. “I just want you to be somewhere where you’re comfortable and not feel like we’re all living on top of one another. I mean, me alone...I’m a giant. Lying down, in the bedroom, I can nearly touch one wall with my hands, and the other with my feet.”

Nesta laughed, breathlessly. “I suppose you can.”

Cassian’s eyes softened as he brought her fingers to his mouth and pressed his lips against her skin, softly. “We need more room. I do, you do, the baby does, all future Nazari babies do.”

“Gods, how many kids do you plan on putting inside of me?” Nesta muttered.

“As many as I can,” he muttered.

She paused for a moment, looking at their joined hands, then asked, “And what if this is the only one we have?”

Cassian tilted her chin up so that she met his gaze. “Then I’ll still be the happiest man alive.” She smiled softly and kissed him.

It was then that she felt it. Not quite a movement, but a small flutter. Small enough that she thought she might have imagined it, had it not repeated it right after.

She softly gasped. “Cass!” She grabbed his hand and placed it under hers where she’d just felt the flutter.

It happened once more, but Cassian said, “I can’t feel anything.”

Nesta began to cry. “I can. I can feel her.” It was overwhelming, going these months of constantly feeling sick and crying and craving weird foods, only having a belly to show for it.

But now, not only had she seen her baby today, she’d also felt it. “She’s in there and she’s healthy and happy.”

If Nesta was crying, it usually meant Cassian had done something wrong. But seeing her cry tears of joys…

In that moment, her smile had never been brighter, her eyes had never sparkled so brilliantly.

Cassian didn’t move, didn’t say a word. He simply watched her, dwelled in her excitement, watched as she expressed joy, relief, excitement. She sighed, and wiped at her eyes as Cassian continued to run his hands over her stomach.

He couldn’t wait to feel that baby kick, but he would, for now. He’d let her be in love with those little feelings that only a mother could feel.

He didn’t even bother to tell her that she called the baby she again.

He swore she looked on her way to the bakery, but he’d keep that confident suspicion to himself.

“Happy and healthy,” he repeated, and kissed the back of her neck. “And very well loved.”

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed, quietly. “She is.”

They stayed like that for a while, snuggled together in the tub, silent and comforting, until the water began to cool. Then Cassian was out and helped out his fiancée, dried off, and warmed up their food.

After they ate, Nesta went to check on the guests that remained in the B&B while Cassian cleaned up around the little house, considering four more people would be inside in a couple of hours. Azriel, it seemed, got enough taken care of for today and told Cassian to relax.

Cassian hated relaxing.

So, he cleaned. By the time he was done, the little house was spotless.

Around four-thirty, Elain came bounding up the stairs, bursting through the door. “Nesta said you had the ultrasound pictures.” She held out her hand, opening and closing it. “Gimme.”

Cassian was sitting on the couch, watching a roping, and drinking a beer. He stared at her. “You know they don’t have the sex of the baby on there, right?”

She sat down on the couch next to him and said, “Come on, Cass, you have to know! I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

He laughed. “Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Ugh, why do you have to be so loyal?” She slumped back on the couch. “Where is Nes anyway?”

He got up to get a fresh beer, grabbing one for Elain, and said, “Up at the house, playing host to the guests.”

“Why’d you say it like that?” Elain asked when he sat back down.

He sighed. “I’m just worried it’s too much. With Tamlin’s trial wrapping up and the baby coming. Not to mention all the Tomas bullshit.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What about Tomas?”

He took a swig of beer. “Nes hasn’t told you?” She shook her head. “He’s practically stalking her, but he only does it in public places, and he never speaks. It’s…freaky.”

Elain blinked, then took a long, deep breath. “Have you-.”

“Called Lucien this morning,” Cassian began, before she could even finish the sentence. “There’s nothing that can be done until he actually commits a crime. Unfortunately. But it really has her on edge, you know? She never wants to go anywhere, never wants to do anything because she knows she’ll run into him. I have to figure out how he knows where she’s going. After I know that, Luce can make something happen...he thinks.”

Elain sighed, her face in her hands. “I hate that guy.”

“That’s a pretty popular opinion around here,” Cassian muttered, strutting into the kitchen to pull out the meat he’d be grilling soon. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

When he looked at Elain, she was leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, nibbling on her bottom lip. It seems she didn’t know, either, and Cassian felt oddly guilty for killing her giddy vibe.

“Anyway,” Cassian went on, pulling out a beer and popping the can open. “Enough of that. Why are you here so early? Aside from hounding me about my unborn child.” Elain chuckled, although the worry lingered in her eyes. “I brought decorations, of course.”

“Of course,” Cassian laughed.

Elain eyed the beer in Cassian’s hand then looked back into the living room, where the one he’d just gotten, minutes before, sat. “Are you intending to get drunk before this thing? Because, if so, warn me now. I need to know when it’s time to cut you off. How many have you had?”

Cassian just rolled his eyes. “Calm down, mother, I can take care of myself.”

Elain just narrowed her eyes.

Cassian cleared his throat. “I’ll...pace myself.”

“Good,” she said. “Now, help me, tall person.”

First, Cassian brought out the ultrasound picture they had left on the counter, the one they were going to get framed, and let Elain ogle over it for nearly twenty minutes. Then, Cassian was helping tape up an absurd amount of streamers all over the little house, only stopping when Elain was satisfied.

Quiet voices streamed through the open windows about an hour later, and Cassian opened the door to find Nesta and Feyre walking up to the little house, arm and arm. It was good to see her in such a good place with her sisters. It wasn’t so long ago that Nesta had just come back and found Feyre’s hand smacking her in the side of the face.

But now it seemed like a whole different lifetime.

“Where’s the cake?” Elain asked, after they’d come in and Nesta was telling which spices to get down for the dry rub she’d been craving.

Feyre was setting the table. “Rhysand is getting it when he gets here. I left it in the back of the fridge at the house.”

Cassian looked around, noticing he was drastically outnumbered by the Archeron girls. “Speaking of Rhys, where is he? And where’s Az? He told me at, like, two-thirty that he could handle what was left and I should rest.”

The girls remained silent, all with a familiar glint in their eyes.

Cassian stilled. “Oh, shit, I don’t like that look.”

“They’ll be here,” Elain promised. “Az went home a little while ago to shower. He got done what he was supposed to, don’t worry.”

“Okay,” Cassian began, slowly, unable to judge that damned Archeron look.

Nesta met him on the porch and kissed his cheek. “They’ll be here soon.”

And they were, about half an hour later with bottles full of cheap, shitty whiskey. Apparently it was a night of celebration, not only over their gender reveal, but over the fact that they had recently become engaged, had opened a successful B&B, and now were only mere months away from giving birth to their first child.

No wonder Elain was so worried about his afternoon beer consumption.

Apparently, he had a long night ahead of him.

He grilled steaks and chicken behind the little house and they ate and drank and bonded, which was something Cassian felt didn’t happen a lot lately. He saw them all, sure, from time to time - Azriel the most often - but, they rarely were able to all get together.

After dinner, Rhysand went and got the cake from the main house. It was a little cake, just enough for them all to have a slice.

“Okay, so, apparently, when we cut it open, the inside will be either blue or pink,” Nesta explained. “So.” She had the knife in her hand and was staring at the cake, but she didn’t move to cut it. She cleared her throat. “So.”

Elain was practically bouncing out of her shoes. “So, so, so! If you don’t do it right now, I’m going to!”

Azriel just put his hands on Elain’s shoulders, silently telling her to calm down, but his smile was bright and humored.

Nesta looked up at Cass, biting her bottom lip.

He asked, “You ready?”

“No. Yes.” She was absolutely glowing, happier than her sisters ever remembered her being. “Here.” She gave the knife to Cassian. “I’m liable to start crying the moment I see a color, so you should probably do the honors.”

He chuckled and turned the cake around, where only he and Nesta could see it and carefully sliced the knife through once. It came out clean, just the tiniest bit of white frosting clinging to the edge.

One more cut.

They saw it at the same time.

“Oh, shit.”

“Oh, my god.”

Elain was practically breathless when she demanded, “What is it?”

Cassian looked down at Nesta, who was already crying, and turned the plate around.

Revealing the pink cake inside.

Elain was instantly crying, and Feyre was looking at Rhysand with a look that said she had mad baby fever.

But Cassian just looked down at Nesta, at the tears in her eyes and the smile on her lips, and kissed her, softly. “You were right.”

She rolled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Of course, I was. Get used to that.”

He cursed, silently. Not only was he marrying Nesta Archeron, but he was about to have a tiny version of her running around, too. He had a feeling those stubborn genes of hers were stubborn themselves.

“Hmmm,” he mumbled, at last, which only made her grin widen. She kissed him, once more, before cutting the cake up for everyone to share.

A girl.

They were having a girl.

Cassian hoped and prayed that she would be just like her mother.

An hour later Nesta was staring her fiancé down, hands on her hips. He had taken up a very similar posture. “Call me if you need me.”

“I will be with my sisters,” Nesta said. “And I’m not far away. I’ll be fine.”

Her voice was reassuring, she tried her best to be reassuring, but the look in Cassian’s eyes told her that she’d woken up in a cold sweat one too many times.

“You’re just going to the cabin,” Nesta said, then gestured over to the little, old cabin, where Beau ran around in front of it. He hadn’t stopped since they told him the baby was going to be a girl. “Try not to let those two assholes get you too drunk.” She gestured to where Azriel and Rhysand waited at the bottom of the stairs.

Cassian snorted, and kissed her softly. “No promises.”

Then he was walking away, all of them carrying a ridiculous amount of alcohol as they crossed the grass, then the driveway, and entered the cabin.

Nesta went inside of her little house, where her sisters had poured themselves a glass of wine.

After plopping down in her armchair, Nesta scowled. “I want a glass of wine so bad.”

“A few more months,” Feyre winked.

Nesta settled her hands lovingly over her bump.

Her baby girl.

“And then some,” she said. “Breastfeeding.”

“Allow us to make a toast in your favor,” Elain said, lifting her glass filled with wine in the air. “To baby girl Nazari.”

She clinked her glass against Feyre’s and they both took a drink. Nesta couldn’t help but laugh at the display.

“When is Azriel going to propose?” Nesta asked, a minute later.

Elain nearly choked on her wine.

“It has been a while,” Feyre mumbled, eyeing the middle sister.

Elain sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes I just wanna grab him by the neck and tell him to get on with it.”

Nesta snorted. “You should. And make sure you tell me when you do. I wanna be there to see that.”

Feyre laughed, but her eyes were on Elain. “He’ll come around to it,” Elain stated, and she sounded confident in that statement. “But, there is something I want to ask you about.”

Nesta’s smile faded as she realized her sister was talking to her.

“Cassian mentioned that Tomas has been….stalking you,” Elain went on, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass.

Her reaction confirmed the statement. She was white as death, her eyes haunted, but she cleared her throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ve run into each other a few times, but-.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Feyre said, cutting her off. “Cass himself told Elain and Rhys told me.”

“How long has this been going on?” Elain asked.

“Nothing’s going on.” Nesta said, looking at the television.

“Nesta,” Feyre said, her tone forcing Nesta to look. “You’re protecting your stomach. Look me dead in the eye and tell me nothing is going on.”

Nesta glanced down. Where she’d been rubbing soothing circles over her belly, she was now nearly hunched over it, an arm over it.

A long, slow breath escaped her before she said, “Since the brick went through the window.”

Elain and Feyre remained silent, but then Elain said, quietly, “Nesta, that was weeks ago. Months ago.”

“Yeah,” Nesta muttered.

“Nesta,” Feyre began, shaking her head. “You should’ve told-.”

“Why?” Nesta interrupted. “So you could’ve done what exactly? If the law, the officials can’t do anything, neither can you.”

Her sisters remained silent, and Nesta instantly felt guilty. She shouldn’t snap at them. They were only concerned, it wasn’t their fault.

“I just...give me one night when I’m not thinking about it,” Nesta said. “Please.”

“Okay,” Elain breathed. “Well, do you have any names picked out?”

“Yeah, we...” Nesta paused and hesitated, and then she felt that small flutter inside of her once more. That small movement that was hers and hers alone. She could see Cassian’s face earlier, after she’d first felt their daughter, the disappointment when he couldn’t say the same.

So she would give him this. She’d keep their names to herself, for now, so he could have that feeling, too.

She just knew her sisters weren’t going to like it.

#theranchnessian #sharacollab #snacmc #snelbz tacmc collab #snelbz x tacmc #nessian

250 notes · View notes

moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 6

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of murders, cases, Serial killer facts,

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner

~~~~~~~~~~

○●♡●○

It had been about two months or so since your little impromptu sleepover at the resident genius's place. Things had gotten a little better, at least on your part.

"Hey!"

You jumped from your make-do desk in your room, snapping your head towards the doorway where a friendly face awaited you. Gabriel had a bag of sweets in one hand and a malt in the other. "Jesus, Gabe you scared me." You cursed, holding a hand to your chest.

"At least we're even." He points out, putting the malt on the table in front of you. Also inconveniently on top of your written notes for the paper you had to write. You growled and moved the drink, glaring at your best friend.

"You've gotten even with me plenty of times since then! How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" You ask in exasperation. Gabriel pretends to ponder your question as he pops a caramel apple sucker into his mouth.

"Says the girl who didn't call me to tell me she was home and instead decided to stay with the coworker she has a crush on. You didn't even bribe me with details!" He complained, dumping a few sweets in front of you.

You grumpily grab one of the sweets he had graciously offered and tossed it into your mouth. "It was one time! And I hadn't slept for like, four days! Besides, it wasn't my fault my mother decided to drop by and visit!" You huff.

"Yeah yeah. You know how much I hate that hag. Nothing against you, sugar tits." Gabriel comments, pulling the pop from his mouth. "But still, no excuse not to call me. Send me a text even. Some proof of life." He grumbled. "That malt is yours by the way. Iris insisted I get one for you while we were out. Couldn't say no."

You look over at the bright pink striped cup dripping with condensation that created a wet circle on the desk. For being pissed at you for over two months, Gabriel was a good friend.

You took the malt and started sipping generously. "I'm sorry, okay? What do I have to do to prove it to you?" You ask.

Gabriel smirked. You hated when he got ideas.

"Tell me about your night with Mister teacher's pet. Then I'll consider it." He teased, quickly bopping your nose.

"I already told you. After my bitch mother confronted me, he convinced me to head to his place. I couldn't say no. He eventually read me a poem and I fell asleep. And… he knows my real name now. Happy?" You asked with a groan.

"Oh come on, that can't be all of it!" He whined, almost like a child about to throw a tantrum for being forced to eat his vegetables. Not that Gabriel was any different. He would fight you tooth and nail if you tried.

"It is! Nothing else happened! No kiss, no dramatic display of feelings, no nothing. Just a really awkward drive to work." You huffed.

The thought of the drive was a little hurtful. After the night you both had, well more like morning and you slept through the rest of the day, Spencer had been distant. It didn't last long as a couple days later they all had to get on the jet for another case. Spencer then began to re-warm up to you and now you knew nothing different. Though he didn't try to flirt with you anymore. Not like Morgan. But the previous moments where he had you backed up against the map, or had called you a good girl. He never did it again. And to be honest, you missed it despite how embarrassed you were afterwards.

"Boo! And I thought you liked the guy!" Gabriel exclaimed, acting baffled at the chain of events in your life. He then shrugged. "More fish in the sea I guess." He teased, obviously gaging you for a response.

"I do! Just… I'm not as obscenely obvious about it as you want me to be!" You hissed, sucking up more chocolate malt into your mouth with a little bit of a pissy attitude.

"Well if you were, I'm sure he'd be your teacher's aide boyfriend by now. Now, who's right and wrong in this situation? Hm? Yeah, me. No debate." He insists, putting the sucker back into his mouth.

"Shut up. I have to write this paper. For my doctorate in social science." You explain. "Just because you stopped going to school doesn't mean I can't go ahead and add another doctorate to my belt." You try to change the subject, hoping Gabriel would ease up on you.

"You and those doctorates. Are you seriously trying to build a filing cabinet up there or are you just bored with working for the FBI already?" Gabriel asks, flopping down onto your bed.

"Neither. I just want to know as much as I can in all of my areas of schooling. Be taken seriously." You insist.

"Boring. Why don't you take classes on making candy or something? That would be seriously cool. And then you can open up your own business just to spite those parents of yours!

I can see it now!" He rants, hanging his head over the edge of your mattress as he spreads his hands as if displaying the business name.

You roll your eyes. "No thanks. That sounds like something you should do though. You'd fit right into that role, you know. Candyman." You tease. "Now I really gotta finish this paper." You insist.

"Fine fine. Just be sure to come down from your academic heaven long enough to eat dinner once Iris is finished." He insists, winking at you before he leaves your room.

Finally, you had your peace and quiet. But it was weird. The peace and quiet was very quickly becoming deafening by the influx of thoughts. Not the helpful kind either.

You began to come up blank on ideas for your paper and had more ideas on how you could have maybe done something different to prevent that awkward drive to work all those weeks ago. Where did this uncertainty come from?

You grumble and close your laptop after ten minutes of no progress. Maybe you just needed a break. Then again, it was your day off. And you didn't feel like wishing bad things on someone just so you'd be able to go into work.

Almost as if the universe had been listening and decided to throw you a sickened bone, you heard your phone begin to ring. You eagerly pick it up, knowing it would be something to keep you busy.

"Hello, Agent (L/N)." You answer without checking the caller ID.

"Yes, (L/N) I need you to come in. We have another case." Hotch answers the phone. You feel a slight feeling of excitement strike at your core. Sure, you'd been on 6 cases so far, but you enjoyed being around your fellow agents and putting another unsub away.

"Do I get any insight, Hotch?" You ask.

"It's a case in Lebanon Kansas. We have a large group of bodies piling up. We have two suspects we believe are working with each other. We just need to profile them and catch them before they kill again. I'll inform everyone once you've arrived." As soon as he finished, he hung up. He didn't give you any chance to reply. Typical Hotch fashion.

You stand up immediately, grabbing your bag and your go-bag you had packed at all times just in case this happened. You grabbed the malt you still had and drank the rest of it, grabbing a couple of the caramel apple pops Gabriel had left and shoving them into your pocket.

You wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a plastic container and putting some of dinner into it.

"Woah, woah, where the hell are you going so late?" Gabriel asked in a fatherly tone. You rolled your eyes and glared at him for a moment.

"I have work. Duh."

"Work? I thought you were off?" Iris asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am. But unfortunately serial killers don't care that I'm off. Sorry guys. I promise I'll call you guys once I get back, okay?" You promise, finding a lid and putting it on the tubberware.

"You better. Or else I'll stick gum in your hair. And not the easy to get out stuff." Gabriel threatened teasingly, taking a quick bite of his food. "Have fun arresting some muttonheads!" He called.

You chuckle and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Will do!" You reply before you turn around and head out of your shared apartment.

○●♡●○

"Hey! (L/N)!"

You turn your head as you arrive to the bullpen. You smile as the eccentric Penelope Garcia raced up to you to give you a hug once you were down the stairs.

You graciously accepted the hug and turned to everyone else. "What did I miss?" You ask.

"Nothing much. Only Reid finally showing us another magic trick!" Penelope answered for everyone. Morgan chuckled and Reid blushed slightly. Emily was leaned slightly against Reid's desk, looking at you warmly.

"Seriously, he's really good." Emily affirmed. You chuckled and walked over in interest.

"Really now? Show me." You insist, standing in front of Spencer. He looked up at you and did a nervous chuckle.

"W-well your gonna have to turn around." He says, giving you an adorable michevious smirk.

"Oh come on-" you begin.

"He does this everytime, you'll get used to it." Emily adds, laughing slightly as she begins to turn around.

"Spencerrr… please? For me?" You asked, batting your eyes pitifully. You knew it would probably get you nowhere, but you could at lease try.

"No." He insisted.

"Pleaseeee!" You beg again, putting your hands in a clasped position. You even bended your knees slightly to add to the effect.

Instead of the immediate rejection, he pondered for a moment and stared at you.

"Come on kid, one person knows a magician's tricks. Let her be your protégé." Morgan suggests. You giggle and shook your head.

"No really, it's fine. You don't have to show me-" you begin to backtrack, not wanting to force Spencer into showing you.

"I'll do it. I-I mean… I have to find someone to pass my gifts onto." He chuckles, rubbing his neck a little nervously.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" He expressed.

Morgan raised an eyebrow and stifled a chuckle as he watched you two. He leaned over to Emily who had made her way over to where he stood and whispered into her ear.

Spencer then told everyone to turn their heads away except for you. Then he began to show you the way he made the mini bottle rocket. He wrapped his hands around yours and helped you with each step. The warmth of his hands spread to your cheeks, and the touch of them sent shivers down your spine.

"Then turn it upside down and…" Spencer instructed in a whisper, helping you to turn the cap upside down. You watched the foaming top for a few seconds, moving closer towards the unknowing danger of the cap. As soon as it began to jump up, Spencer pushed you back with an inaudible warning. You watched as the bottle skyrocketed and flew fast Hotch's ear. Through this, his hand clutched as your shoulder and refused to leave it.

"Reid, I thought I told you not to do that." Hotch warned.

Reid's face grew a little brighter with embarrassment. You didn't know what came upon you then, but you stood up and gulped. "It-it was me. He taught me and I shot it. Sorry sir." You insisted.

Hotch's lips pulled into a slight smile as he looked back towards you. He didn't say anything afterwards, but you knew he was just teasing you both. "Meet up in the confrence room in five minutes, we have another case." He says after he cleared his throat. You nodded with a cheerful smile and put your bag in your chair. You glanced to Spencer, flashing him a gentle smile before you turned to enter the conference room.

You entered the room and took your seat, taking the tablet out that Garcia had given you before. "So what do we have?" You asked.

"We have what is assumed to be over a dozen bodies killed with different MO's and different stages of aggression. The only thing that links them are the DNA from one or both of these suspects; Jensen and Sam Westchester. And boy do they have long records. That's why we were able to find their DNA matches so quick." Penelope answered.

Spencer took a seat beside you, causing your heart to skip just slightly. "How come we don't have these men yet? Why do they need our help?" You ask.

"We need to apprehend them. And get a confession. The Kansas state court system has been known to be unpredictable. Sometimes evidence is enough, other times they get off with a warning and community service." Hotch answers.

"At least they do that." Morgan grumbled. "How come we don't have these guys yet? Are they that slick?"

"Unfortunately yes. They are like Houdini when it comes to busting out of prisons and facilities. The last prison they were held in, one up in Ohio, said they were able to escape through knocking out a guard and switching clothes with him. They were in for a robbery charge." Penelope continued.

"So why escalate to murder? Unless these murders were scattered." You ask.

"They are. Over 15 years worth. It looks like they could maybe have more." Spencer spoke up, looking over the picture of one of the more recent bodies.

"It's quite possible. After all, Harold Shipman managed to get away with 218 proven murders. But they think he could've done as many as 250." You answer, sharing a serial killer fact you found interesting.

"So we just need to profile these boys and figure out the motive. And if we apprehend them, keep them apart." Emily points out.

"Why do you say that?" Rossi asks.

"If you notice the trend in each of these escapes, they only manage to escape when in contact with the other. In the prison they had time to be able to see one another and formulate a plan. Even when in questioning they were able to get notes to each other."

"Then we'll have to split up and get seperate confessions. These two are brothers, and neither seem to fit the submissive type.' Hotch explains.

"Two alpha males killing for seemingly no reason for half their lives. This'll be easy to get them to confess and rat out their partner." You say sarcastically.

"We have to try. Wheels up in thirty." Hotch announces, standing up and leaving the room.

You sigh and pick up the tablet. "Garcia, can you go ahead and check more than just their juvie records? I wanna have a list of information I can pick from for the profile. Possibly pinpoint some areas of their lives that lead to this behavior." You ask.

"Oh, but of course Queen! I'll get straight on that. But most of it will probably be sealed." She warned.

"Unseal those records Garcia. Anything that can help us." Morgan interjects as he grabs his bag and he too leaves the conference room. Garcia nods to him and quickly clicks her heels as she leaves the room. You sigh and pick up your things as you prepare to get onto the jet.

"You didn't have to defend me."

"Hm?" You ask, turning to look at Spencer. "Oh, you mean the rocket-thingy?" You clarify. "I was the one to beg you to teach me. Let's just be happy it didn't hit him in the head." You giggle. Spencer looked at you intently for a few moments before he nodded and turned his head away silently. Although it caused you to be uncertain, you brushed it off and walked out to your desk to grab your things.

As you grab your bags, you feel the small raised bulge in your pocket. You remember the caramel apple pops and smile. At least you could enjoy one of these on the way to deal with a pair of serial killers. Fun.

You pulled the sucker from the wrapper and popped it into your mouth, beginning your trek out to the jet. As you begin to walk towards the elevator, you notice a pair of hazel eyes following you. You feel a slight burning sensation on the back of your neck and your cheeks as you realized. He looked away once he noticed you were staring back.

Was he really staring, or was he just spacing out? You hoped it was the former. You were practically begging and praying for it to be. But you knew you'd never be that lucky.

As you began walking, you heard a jumble of feet behind you and the jingle of things inside a bag getting tossed around. "(Y/N!)" You heard. You widened your eyes and turned around, glad no one besides Spencer had been behind you.

"Spencer! You can't just call me by my first name right now!" You hissed.

"S-sorry, I just wanted to apologize if I sounded upset with you. I… I find it honorable that you tried to defend me. No one really does." He explained. You felt your heart melt a little.

"Spencer… I didn't think that in the slightest." You knew you were lying, but it was going to make him feel better. Besides, it wasn't that big of a deal. "And if that last part is true then I'll be your legendary defender. Like Voltron!" You insist, already beginning to geek out in front of your workplace crush. Way to go, (Y/N).

"Voltron? What is that? Is it like Star Trek?" He asked, beginning to walk towards the jet with you. You widen your eyes at him and gasp playfully.

"You, haven't seen Voltron Legendary Defender? Okay, when we get back you HAVE to come over and watch it with me. Afterwards we can watch some documentaries." You insist, practically bouncing on your toes. Spencer looked over you and smiled, unable to tell you no.

"Sounds like a plan."

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flooffybits · 3 years

Text

Invitation From Nightmare City

When imagination and reality blend so well with each other, are you sure you can tell each other apart? Or will you let doubt and fear steer you away from the truth?

So this will be part 1 of the Dreamcatcher series I’ve decided to write. Obviously, since this is only the beginning, there’s barely anything, but once we reach part 2 or 3, I think you’ll all understand what’s happening. While I do have the flow of the story planned out, I will be open to suggestions later on if you have any so feel free to send me messages and feedback!

Start || Next

A month or two after arriving in Seoul, you had to admit that you were still unable to make your way around, often having to rely on maps and double checking your phone just to make sure you wouldn’t get lost somewhere, and you still weren’t able to adapt to the different environment.

Blame it on your new job.

After your boss had you relocated, there was so much on your plate that you could barely catch a break and enjoy your new life. The farthest you could be confident in was the little shops and café that was just a few blocks away from your apartment, plus the cute book shop in the next building. The woman, Seungwan, seemed like an absolutely kind person when she realized you were new in the neighborhood, whipping you up a batch of muffins on your second day there. She also understood your slight struggle with the language after she explained to you that she was originally from Canada.

So far, you’ve only really gotten to befriend her and a few other people, mainly from work -

“Hey, Y/n, good morning!” A dark haired female greeted you when you passed by the park like usual. “Hey, Minji, good morning. Busy day ahead?” You ask when you notice the various paper bags in her arms.

Kim Minji was someone you met by chance. While you tried to familiarize the neighborhood, you ended up walking a little too far away than you should have and it didn’t help that it was about to rain. So when you reached the park, you were almost ready to give up until the angel that stood before you showed up with a worried look across her face and then she’s offering to help you get back home after she realized your situation.

The day after that, on your way to work, you were able to recognize the path better, since you could actually see your surroundings, and end up bumping into the latter once more, giving you the chance to properly thank her.

After that, you’ve both just been able to talk with one another and you were able to consider her as the closest friend you had there, aside from Seungwan.

“Sort of. I have some people coming over, so I have to fix up the place and make sure to prepare everything.” She says with the same cute grin she always had. “Oh! What time are they coming? Do you need some help?” You ask, hoping to give the woman a lending hand, but she smiles in an assuring manner before shaking her head. “No, it’s quite alright. They’ll be arriving in the afternoon, so I doubt you’ll be able to come by since you have work.”

She tries to check on her watch despite everything she’s carrying before she was looking back at you. “And you should be hurrying, too! You can’t be late.” She shoos you away playfully and you chuckle while lifting your hands in defense. “I know, I know. I’ll see you later then. Text me though!”

“I will, now go!”

You show her a little salute before running off to the direction of your work place, leaving the woman to watch after you with a small smile on her face. Only when you were completely out of sight did she decide to walk back to her home and prepare for her friends' arrival.

"Hey, Y/n! Heading home?" Kahei, one of your colleagues, asked when she got up from her desk and began packing her things. She was one of the few foreigners that worked at the company and it helped that she knew how to speak English. You were grateful that she was kind enough to show you around and explain everything you failed to comprehend when you started.

You offer a smile before shaking your head and sighing. "No, I'm still trying to finish up this report. You know how our boss is." You joked before the girl giggled and patted your arm when she passed by you. "You worry too much. He has a lot of confidence in you, having you move here and all."

"It wouldn't be a surprise if you managed to become a senior officer in your first year. But don't tell anyone I said." You laughed at the playful banter between the two of you and nodded your head while waving goodbye. "See you tomorrow. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight! Don't stay so late. You know how dangerous it can be at night." She reminds you and you nod before she finally exits the room, leaving you alone to finish the task you had at hand.

While Kahei did tell you not to stay up late, you failed to notice the time until security had to come up and tell you that you should leave the building. You apologized before quickly gathering your things and heading home for the night. But a quick glance at your phone notified you that it was already nearing one in the morning.

So you picked up the pace and did your best to get home faster, avoiding any shady looking places just in case, because, like Kahei told you, it wasn’t exactly safe to be roaming around at night and it didn’t help that you were alone.

The bus was nearly empty, save for a few people who seemed to have just gotten off work like yourself. There was also a couple, not too far away, talking between themselves and then an elderly man closer to the driver’s seat whilst you occupied the middle row like usual.

When you get to your stop, you hold your bag loosely in your hand, eyes half lidded and pleading to shut after such a busy day, but you still needed to get home before you could let your guard down and finally relax. It wasn’t too far away now, but still. Anything could still happen in the few blocks you had to pass.

Maybe halfway to your apartment, you could feel your phone buzzing in your pocket and you’re confused.

Who would be calling you at such an hour?

Upon checking the caller ID, you’re surprised to see Minji’s name flashing across the screen. Before you could even answer her call, it ends and you think that maybe she’s called you by accident. But you’re proven wrong when she starts calling you again.

“Hello?”

“Y/n! Thank god, you’re okay.” Her words had caused you to slowly come to a halt, your brows pinching in confusion as you addressed the woman. “Yeah, I just left work a while ago. What’s wrong?” You inquire and she lets out a huff. “Well, it is kinda worrying when your friend hasn’t replied in, at least, five hours.” She shot back and you started walking again with a sigh.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve just been so absorbed with work that I lost track of time.” You tell her, your apartment finally coming into view. “But why are you still awake? It’s one in the morning.” You ask her. “I was worried when you didn’t text back earlier. You usually do so when you leave work.”

Suddenly you felt bad for being so reckless. You found out Minji could be quite the worry wart on the first month of being here. She's always telling you to take care, often scolding you for forgetting an umbrella or jacket on certain occasions, and just being a mother hen in general. It was endearing, especially for someone who's only known you for a couple of weeks.

"I'm so sorry. I swear, I'll make it up to you. But right now, you should get some sleep. It's late and I'm almost home, anyway." You assure the older woman. "I'd rather stay on the line until I'm sure you are home." She retorts and you let out a sigh at her stubbornness. "I swear that I'm going to be okay. I'll text you as soon as I get home, it's not even that far away anymore."

"You're still outside, and I'd rather not risk it." Knowing that there was no use arguing, you eventually gave up and allowed the other woman to stay on the line until you safely reached your apartment.

"How has your day been?" You would suddenly ask her, seeing it was a bit awkward to keep your phone to your ear without actually saying anything. "You had some friends over, yeah? How did it go?" You add and there's a slight hum from her side before she's responding.

The sound of her voice didn’t seem all too enthusiastic, or maybe it was because it was early in the morning and she was tired out. “It was alright, my friends are all filled with so much energy, though two of them are more tame.” She mumbles softly while you finally reach the front of your apartment complex. “But I think you would be able to get along with them if you ever meet them. They’ll love you for sure.” She says with a light laugh that sounds almost a bit forced, like there were more emotions locked away in her heart that she’s afraid of letting you find out.

“Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine.” You chuckle while stepping inside the building and using your free hand to reach inside your pocket for your keys. “But, hey, I’m already at the complex, so you ca-”

Surprised, you didn’t realize someone was there until your shoulder collided with theirs and you had to stop what you were doing to face them and immediately apologize. “I’m so sorry for that, I didn’t notice you.” You tell them and the woman just stares blankly at you.

Getting a proper look, she had brown hair with the tips painted pink, dark brown orbs almost boring a hole in your forehead, and if looks could kill, you would probably be buried six feet under by now. The woman was most likely thin, hidden under the thick jacket that was wrapped around her. She was a few inches taller than you, probably the same height as Minji, you noted and you knew you would never bump into her like this again with the way she was staring at you.

“Be careful next time.” Was all she said before continuing her way out of the building and you blink after her before remembering that you were still on the phone with Minji.

“Y/n? Are you there?” You hear the woman’s worried voice. “Yeah, I’m here, sorry. I just bumped into someone.” You explain and she goes quiet before asking, “Isn’t it a bit late for someone in your complex to be up?”

Glancing over your shoulder and to the entrance, you let out a soft sigh before making your way up to your apartment. “I guess? Though she seems new, or I just haven’t noticed her until now.” You explain while rubbing the back of your head and then grabbing your keys from your pocket. “Really? What does she look like?”

“Um, judging by how I had bumped into her, kind of like an angry puppy.” You mutter while unlocking your door and Minji breathes out, almost like a huff of air coming from her lips as she turns in her bed while listening to you shutting your door. “Well, annoyed neighbor aside, it sounds like you’re already home.” She guesses while you take off your shoes. “Yeah, you don’t have to worry about me being out and finally get some sleep.”

With the assurance that you were safe and sound, Minji finally relented as she shut her eyes. “Yeah, I think I’ll do that. But don’t forget, you owe me for worrying me like that.” She hears your light laughter through the other line and a smile blooms on her face. “Goodnight, Y/n.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your own lips before bidding her goodbye. “Goodnight. I’ll see you later.”

When the call finally ends, Minji lets her phone drop to her side as her eyes open again, her smile fading into a small frown as she recalls what you said a while ago, the worry building in her chest as she stared up at the ceiling.

“What are you doing, Yoohyeon?”

Meanwhile, after you had finally gotten comfortable and settled in your bed, it only took a matter of seconds for you to fall asleep, the exhaustion of the day helping you fall unconscious and easing you into dreamland.

However, as your eyes opened, you’re greeted by a dimly lit room. With a chandelier hanging above your head, you could see what little furniture was there along with a few pictures and books scattered about. There were papers strewn about, what appeared to be, a circle of candles around you.

Come to think of it, you were standing directly at the center of the whole thing, yet everything was empty and without a source of life, except you.

Peering around curiously, you take a cautious step outside the circle, being careful not to touch the candles. “What the…” Looking at the large windows to your left, you blinked before looking down at yourself to confirm that you weren’t wearing the shorts or plain shirt you had picked before going to sleep, but rather a white blouse and black dress pants.

You try tapping your own cheek to see if you could wake yourself up, but when you look around, nothing changes. The room is as it is and your clothes don’t change. While you know you’re dreaming, everything feels oddly realistic when you reach one of the desks, letting your fingers brush over one of the few books that was placed on top of it.

Despite being alone, you could not shake off the feeling of someone watching you. There’s a heavy weight that settles on your shoulders, and when you breathe out, your breath is visible as though the room’s temperature had dropped.

There’s a quiet creak in the direction of the archway that probably leads further into the house, and you spin around quickly, catching a glimpse of a shadow before it’s disappeared completely from your sight.

You hold your breath, not daring to call out in the event that someone or something dangerous might be present. With your heart beating faster, you catch another bit of movement, this time by the window. And when you look over, all you see is your own reflection.

Or so you thought.

Your eyes in the window looked a bit different - darker. And when you move back, your reflection’s movement is delayed, forcing you to step away and retreat.

Fear was slowly creeping up your chest and the weight from earlier had yet to go away. While you did your best to keep your breathing steady, the room started to spin around you with your head suddenly throbbing.

And then the whispers began.

You’re not sure where they’re coming from nor do you understand a single word they’re saying. All you knew was that they were growing louder and louder, making you even dizzier. When you move back towards the candles, one light flickers before you feel something grab at your leg, causing you to stumble.

But before your body could collide with the ground, someone had grabbed you by the back of your shirt and you were being shoved back to the circle.

Looking up to who had pushed you, you could barely see their face with how hazy things were getting. The only thing you could tell was that the person was a woman, dressed in a suit with her hair seemingly short, though only at the front because when she gave you another push to have you fully in the circle again, you caught sight of the rest of her hair tied in a low ponytail.

She doesn’t give you a chance to speak nor does she say her name or where you are. She merely stares at you for a few seconds before allowing you to faintly hear her voice. “You shouldn’t be here… at least not yet.”

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agentofscifi · 4 years

Text

Super Genius Ch. 3

I march my way through the complex, ignoring the stares off all of the Avengers. My Dad is biting into a bagel as I stop next to him. He swallows quickly. “Happy Birthday Kiddo!”

I feel my eye twitch. “Peter, Peni, Miles, Anya, and Gwen have all been bitten by radioactive spiders. MJ and Ned seem to be some sort of Superhero backup. Riri and Harley recreated your tech in garages. Are any of these kids normal?”

My Dad flushes. “How’s you find out?”

“Peter got surprised, jumped, landed on the ceiling and then stayed there! This is not normal!”

My Dad opens and closes his mouth. “I can explain!”

I raise an eyebrow. “Explain what? How every one of your new interns is either helping a superhero, is a superhero, or is on their way to being a Superhero? What is this, the Junior Avengers?”

My Dad rolls his eyes. “I haven’t coined a name yet, and don’t you mean everyone but you?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe.” It didn’t matter as much now. My parents in France were told about me being Ladybug after I became the Guardian. The kids all already knew. Harley had looked in my bag for my charging cord last night only to find Tikki. This would be when Peter freaked out and got stuck on the ceiling. Giant talking bugs were not normal in New York, according to Peter. Either way, my superhero ID had already known to the rest of the kids.

My Dad does a double take. “What does “maybe” mean?”

I shrug. “Maybe means that I was given a pair of magical earrings with a tiny goddess that’s attached to them when I was 12 and that I’ve been fighting a magical terrorist for the past 3 years while in Paris.”

Everyone is looking at me once again. My Father is blinking rapidly. “This is a joke, right?”

Tikki suddenly pops up in the air next to me. “Hi, I’m Tikki! I’m the Ladybug Kawami.”

A disheveled Clint looks up from his cup of coffee before slowly grabbing a newspaper and rolling it up. “Stark, don’t move. There’s a giant floating bug.”

I reach forward and snatch the newspaper from his hand. “She’s a goddess.”

Clint closes his eyes slowly. “So, no huge bug bites from the giant floating bug goddess?”

I resist the urge to facepalm. “No, there won’t be any bug bites. Drink your coffee.” Clint nods and slowly starts to sip on his coffee again.

My Dad clears his throat. “Magical terrorist?”

“Who uses evil butterflies to possess people.”

My Dad stares at me then looks to the ceiling. “FRIDAY? Is my daughter on drugs?”

“No, Mr. Stark. Further research has turned up a few blogs and news articles speaking of Ladybug, Chat Noir, and several other heroes fighting a Hawkmoth and Mayura.”

My Dad furrows his brow. “Is Paris on drugs?”

I roll my eyes. “No, Dad. This is not the point. Are you, or are you not, starting some kind of Junior Justice League?”

My father gives me a playful glare. “Mari, you know me. I’m just mentoring.”

“So you are starting a Junior Justice League.” I throw my hands into the air. “You have got to be kidding me!”

“Marinette!” My Dad is whining now, like a child.

I roll my eyes and decide to skip out on the rest of my questions involving my Father’s collection of teenage superheroes. “Dinner with Pepper, Rodney, and Happy tonight?”

He smiles. “Of course, at your favorite restaurant!”

I peak him on the cheek. “Love you Dad!” I twist around on my heels and hit the button for the elevator.

Sam blinks as I step into the elevator. Tikki waves at Sam, who hesitantly waves back. “What’s with the floating giant bug in the elevator?”

“The tiny goddess attached to Tony’s kid’s earrings that she used to fight a magical terrorist in France that’s possessing people with butterflies.” Natasha leans back in her seat, sipping on a cup of coffee.

Sam rubs his eyes and looks back at Tikki, who is still waving cheekily. “I’m going back to bed.”

The elevator door closes as Sam turns back around to go to bed.

A few seconds later I end up back in the Teen living room. Harley looks up as I walk back in. “So, are we the Junior Justice League?”

“Yup. You guys ready for today?”

Ned briefly throws his hands up in the air. “5 Days of Star Wars in less than 24 hours!”

MJ rolls her eyes as she finishes up the shopping list. “It’s 7 days Ned. We need to sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak!” Peni sitting on top of her robot, her spider resting on her shoulder.

Anya sighs and runs a hand over her face. “I cannot believe I am doing this.”

My mouth splits wide open. “Doing what Anya? Adding an AI to the Avengers Tower, freeing ourselves of the Baby Monitors, and rebelling form the man upstairs.”

Gwen looks over the back of the couch with a raised eyebrow. “Is the man your father?”

“Yes and if he was in my shoes, he’d be doing the exact same thing.”

Gwen shrugs. “Probably.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter looks around at all of us. “Are we all just going to go with the tiny goddess living in our...apartment, the girl with magical earrings, and the terrorist in Paris with magical butterflies possessing people?”

“Peter,” Miles looks up from the sketch book in his hand. “There's a wizard with a semi-sentiate cape living in New York. The tiny goddess makes more sense than the cape. The evil butterflies, I’ll give you that. That’s just weird.”

I click my tongue. “Says the kid who developed invisibility after being bitten by a spider. That’s weird.”

Miles holds his hands up. “Agree to disagree.” He reaches down and holds up his paper. It was done in colored pencil, but was drawn as if it was spray painted. It was a large yin-yang symbol, however, a spider sat in the Yin circle of the Yang side and the arc reactor symbol sat in the Yang circle of the Yin side. “What do you think?”

“I think we need to add spray paint to the shopping list. We have our symbol of rebellion.”

Harley shrugs again. “Or the symbol of our Junior Avengers?”

Riri glares up at Harley. “Way to ruin the moment, country boy.”

Back in Paris

Lila’s POV

Alya squeals as Miss. Bustier smiles before the collection of students. Technically, Lycée was out for the year, but after months of fundraising and paperwork, the Akuma Class of Lycée Françoise Dupont was attending the International Technology Showcase in Washington D.C. in 2 months. A sizable anonymous donation was sent to the school. I had already spun a story telling all of my sheep that Tony Stark sent the money so that we could see the Showcase in D.C.

Max had already planned on attending the showcase this summer, as he was showing off a computer program of his. With the announcement that the school would be covering the rest of the trip, several other students in the class were considering adding their own inventions to the showcase. I would have to whip something up and then maybe I’d be able to catch the eye of someone at the showcase. Science wasn’t where I wanted to end up, but winning some award at a huge competition for a bunch of nerds would look great on my portfolio.

I give a loud sigh. “This sounds great, but unfortunately, my designs went missing. I had this amazing idea that I worked out with Tony Stark. The equations and blueprints disappeared out of my bag on the last day of school.” 3, 2, 1, and!

Alya gasps. “I bet it was Marinette, just like your laptop Lila!”

“Did you ever go to the police, Lila?” Rose is giving me one of those obnoxious smiles.

“I tried, but since I didn’t have any proof, they said they couldn’t do much. Marinette must have reset the tablet.” I give a few sniffs as the class tries to comfort me.

“You know, I bet if we told Marinette’s parents they’d believe us!” Alya stands up from the benches just outside the school. “I bet they’ll force Marientte to give back Lila’s laptop.”

A brief wave of shock rolls over me. That was something I hadn’t considered yet, turning Ms. Goodie-Tooshoe’s parents against her. The iPad idea might not work alone, but with all the other stories I had made up, I could probably convince them. “Well, if you think it’s the best thing to do.”

The whole class makes their way over to the bakery, Alya at the lead. I let the class escort me over, as if I didn’t want to be bothering the two bakers.

Alya slams open the front door, the bell’s ring catching the attention of the two people behind the register, as well as the woman attempting to order. Both of Marientte’s parents give the class smiles, however, they seem hesitant. “Hello kids,” Marinette’s mother waves to us. “I’ll be with you in a second.”

Alya, instead, marches her way towards the counter and pushes the woman aside. “Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, we have something important to talk to you about!”

Said woman’s smile falls instantly as the other woman rubs her side. I immediately knew this wouldn’t go to plan. I’d have to adapt to get things my way. “Alya, I’m with a customer. It will have to wait a few minutes.”

Alya rolls her eyes. “This is more important. Where’s Marinette?”

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng crosses her arms over her chest. “Marinette isn’t here. What is this all about?”

“Mari’s been bullying Lila!” Alya points back to me and I give a small wave. “She’s stolen things from her, called her a liar, has sent mean texts, and just a few days ago, she took Lila’s iPad and some tech plans Lila worked out with Tony Stark.”

Marinette’s parents share a look before her mother bursts out laughing. Alya rears back her head in shock and I can’t even hide my surprise. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng looks back at us. “Marinette didn’t steal any tech plans. She doesn’t need to.”

Alya opens and closes her mouth a few times. “What! Of course she does! She’s a complete scatterbrain.”

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng’s eyes darken. “My daughter skipped a year of school and still had the best grades in your class, hell, in your year. She managed to have these top grades while juggling her class’ work, class representative duties and all of your outrageous requests that were usual last minute and always free.”

Several of my classmates are red or pale after those words. This was not going my way at all. I give Marinette’s mother a big smile. “Well, that’s what friends do, they help each other.”

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng raises an eyebrow. “Right. I suppose this is why my daughter spent countless nights and hundreds of euros on fabrics for commission she was never paid for. Or, why Marinette was told she’d be babysitting three little kids for free while their older siblings went on dates with the money their parents gave them for babysitting. Or why she was told she was being selfish everytime she tried to ask for help.”

I let my smile fall. This was not going to plan at all. “She stole things from Lila!” Alya has a look of disbelief on her face. “She stole important work. So what if Marinette’s a year ahead. Max still has way better grades than her. You’ll see next year when we restart classes.”

Max’s chest puffs out in pride. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng just raises an eyebrow. “Go to the police then, if my daughter has stolen something. As for next year, Marinette graduated Lycée last week after years of working ahead. She’s attending MIT in the fall.”

This could not be happening. Adrien looks at Marinette’s mother with shocked eyes. “Why didn’t she tell us?”

At the same time Alya screams. “What!”

The eyebrow is raised even high. “Because you told my daughter that you weren’t friends with her anymore. Now, you had barged into my shop, pushed a client, and rudely interrupted a sale. Please leave!”

“But-”

“Now!” The class scurried out the door, me along with them. Marinette’s mother looked truly angry.

We all stand outside the shop, several of my sheep looking completely confused. Since when was Ms. Goodie-Goodie smart enough to graduate two years early?

I huff and I slowly make my way up the staircase of the Dupain-Cheng home. I need something for this showcase and if Marientte is as smart as her mother says she is, then she’d have something. I managed to pick the lock of the bakery and make my way up to the attic that Marinette called a room.

It was bare. That was the best way to describe the room. All of the walls were empty of decorations. The desk had nothing on it either. All that was left was the basic furniture and the sheets on the bed. I try all of the desk drawers and even under the bed, nothing. Then, I remember it the board Alya told me about. The schedule of Adrien’s that Marinette had kept.

I rooted around at the edge of the bed until I found it. The edge of the board. Smiling, I pull it all the way down. It was several layers of plans on top of each other. There were details about several apps, some green projects and well as some super resistant fabric for firefighters. What really caught my eye was the equations and blue prints for a small device that would wirelessly charge any device in a 50 radius. I snap photos of all layers of plans. If I could get this stuff out there, I could make thousands, and all with the help of Marinette. The only issue would be if Marinette came after me for stealing her work. Who was I kidding, that wouldn’t be an issue. I’d just shed some tears and tell everyone about Marinette’s bullying. I had school records to back me up. It’s not like anyone would believe her if she said she did the work.

New York City

Marinette’s POV

I click my tongue as a notification pops up on my phone. After Chloe had broken into my room I’d set up security cameras and motion sensor alerts in case anyone else tried something. A good idea seeing as Lila was currently picking at things in my room. I raise an eyebrow as she pulls down my chart and starts to take photos of my inventions on there.

“Everything alright?” Riri stops at shoulder and looks over at the phone. “What is she doing?”

“She is taking photos of my ideas. The coding for a few apps, blueprints for some green energy things, the information required for my super resistant firefighter fabric and an invention I got a patent back on last week. It goes on sale in a month with Stark Industries.”

“Cool. How does she expect to get away with this?”

“Didn’t you hear!” I pick up an overly fake fangirl tone of voice. “It’s Lila Rossi! She’s Ladybug’s best friend, she saved Jagged Stone’s kitten, she does all kinds of environmental charities with Prince Ali, she helps the Avengers and all while having arthritis, sprained ankles and wrists, and tinnitus that switches ears every few hours.”

Peter stops in the middle of the living room, a look of complete confusion on his face. “I thought Jagged Stone had a crocodile?”

“He does Peter.”

“Since when does Tinnitus switch ears?” Peter is still confused.

“Since she saved Jagged Stone’s cat from an airplane.”

Harley snorts from the edge of the kitchen. “This sounds like fantasy.”

I groan. “You’d think, but my class all believes her. Max made a freaking A.I robot, with emotions, but believes that a paper napkin could cut his eye. He wears glasses.”

“What did Hawkmoth lower your class’ IQs or something?” Anya settles down into the nest we had made in the past hour.

“A leading theory.”

The phone rings with a facetime request. I hit the accept button and my father’s face pops up with a stack of papers in his hands. “What is this?”

I raise an eyebrow. “You got our declaration of independence.”

My father looks unimpressed. “What is this?”

Riri is grinning next to me. “Our declaration of independence.”

“What does that mean?” I can’t but laugh at the confused expression on my Dad’s face.

Harley pops up on my other shoulder. “No baby monitoring protocols!”

“Junk food all day!” Miles yells from his spot.

“No bedtime!” Peni is cheering. Sometimes I forget how young she is.

There’s laughing in the background from my father’s end. “Tony, are the kids beating you up?” I recognize Bucky’s voice in the background.

My father ignores the comment. “How did you block FRIDAY?”

“Simple, I added in my own AI. I left the backdoor open years ago.”

“You have an AI?” My father’s face is torn between confusion and pride.

“JADA. Junior Avengers Defying Adults.”

“Mari!” My Dad is whining again.

“You have 5-6 days to review our Declaration, we will be occupied during this time. We have a lawyer, for the record.”

“Do I want to know what you’ll be doing?”

“Star Wars marathon. All 12 movies, along with all 7 seasons of Clone Wars, the first season of the Bad Batch, all 4 seasons of Rebels, and the two seasons of The Mandalorian. If we don’t sleep, it’s roughly 7711 minutes of Star Wars, which is 128 hours and 31 minutes or 5 days and eight hours. So, when you see us again is entirely dependent on how long we can go without sleep.”

“I worry about you sometimes.”

“ I’ve got to go. Ned just put in the first film.”

“Just one question. What is on the floor behind you?”

I looked over my shoulder at the nest that had been put together over the past hour. Riri was settling into her spot. “That’s 6 mattresses, 19 blankets, and about a dozen pillows.”

“Why?”

“Couches are boring.”

“Ok, now I’m worried about all of you.”

“Goodbye Dad!”

Before ~~~~~~ Next

#lila salt #alya salt #miraculous ladybug #avengers #marinette deserves better #Tony Stark #class salt #bustier salt #Marinete is Tony Stark's Kid #peter parker #super genius marinette

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00def · 4 years

Text

feel / ch. 3 (m)

- producer!jaebeom x f reader

- romance/angst/smut warning: sexting

- 1k words

- summary: you are a hopeless romantic looking to forget your highschool crush, jaebeom, until you match his fwb only tinder account.

ch. 1 / ch. 2 / ch. 3 (m) / ch. 4 (m)

It’s been two days since you last spoke to Jay. He didn’t message you, and you didn’t want to seem pushy. Sure, you have things to do and fill your time while you stressfully message Sooah saying Jay won’t text you but he can update his Instagram. And of course Sooah will insist he’s a fuckboy and that’s what they do, plus he doesn’t actually know you and is probably messaging other girls at the same time and his profile does say he wants sex so why are you so hell bent on being with a guy who doesn’t care about you? Well, because you’re a clown, and that’s what clowns with a crush on a fuckboy do. They message their crush again, because he doesn’t remember you exist. And yes, it’s 10pm, but he’s just updated his Instagram story so you know he’s on his phone.

You: Hey! How did work go?

And now you wait.

Jay: as good as work gets. wbu

Don’t you love it when a guy says “wbu?”

You: I just finished baking some cookies.

Jay: i dont have the patience for that

wish i could have some cookies

You: I could always send you some.

Jay: i don’t want them to crumble, you’ll have to come here. :P

i can order some fried chicken.

You: I don’t really like fried chicken that much.

Jay: what am i going to serve then?

It’s all been building up to this… the risky text.

You: I’ll have the chicken, you can be the dessert.

And now he’s not replying. Shit.

You: Was that too much?

Jay: that was perfect

you’re such a tease

You: I didn’t do anything

Jay: are you trying to make me fall for you?

You: You’re a catch, what do you want me to do?

Jay: how many catches are you reeling in tho

You: You’re actually the only one

The other guys here aren’t very desirable

Jay: so what i'm hearing is, you desire me :P

You: I mean

Jay: sounds like you deserve two servings of dessert

You: I’ll take it

Jay: i'm glad you’re willing to take what i want to give

You: What can I say, I have a weakness for guys with piercings.

Jay: :) and i have a weakness for women who know what they want

cute, charming, intelligent, are all bonuses

You: Now you’re gonna make me fall for you

Jay: what are you doing right now

that's the goal

You: Doing the dishes, sexy right?

Jay: yes you are

You: How do I reply to that?

Jay: :)

You: Do you enjoy making people flustered?

Jay: only if they’re enjoying it too

hey you asked :P

hopefully i can be a welcome distraction

You: Oh you are

Your phone’s battery is seriously draining from the location services required by Tinder. Plus, getting guys off the app is better.

You: Hey, this app is a little clunky. Do you want to talk somewhere else?

Jay: well, im not on much, but i have kakao

Defjayb

my kakao id

You open KakaoTalk, go into search and Add by ID. “defjayb”.

Jaebeom sent you a message.

Jaebeom: [photo]

Oh god. Did he send you a dick pic?

Jaebeom: hey there

You scroll and

It’s just a selfie thank God.

You: That was a risky click

Jaebeom: Were you expecting something risky

You: Please you totally set it up like that

Jaebeom: [picture]

Oh… why does he have topless selfies in his phone…

Jaebeom: How about a taste

You know desserts aren’t meant to be enjoyed alone

Maybe you could send him a picture that showed your cleavage.

You: [picture]

Jaebeom: Mm love it

You: Maybe I could show you more?

Jaebeom: Yes please

I’m so hard rn

Here goes nothing…

You: It’s how I want you

Can you show me?

Jaebeom: How do you feel about a risky click then?

You: Sure

Jaebeom: [picture]

Attached is a picture of his pants, with the shape of his erection.

And where do you leave off in your photoshoot?

Forget any work you intended to do right now, you have to take some nice pics without anything identifiable in them.

You: How’s this?

Jaebeom: Gorgeous

Jaebeom: [picture]

Oh God. This is the real deal. He really sent you a dick pic. He’s sitting on a chair, with his left hand on his hard dick, captioned “Need your lips here.”

Jaebeom: You look delicious

Can I see more under your clothes?

You: What would you like to see?

Jaebeom: I’m a sucker for a back view

But whatever you want

And this is where you spend 3 minutes contorting in order to send his the best picture of your ass anyone could ever take. While making sure nothing else is visible.

Jaebeom: Wish it were pantyless, but hot nonetheless

You: Sorry, they’re still on

Jaebeom: Sounds like you’re asking for punishment

You’ll have to be taught a lesson

Where do I put my cock when your panties are still on?

Shit… You’re gonna have to slide them so the side a bit, and take a pic.

You: [picture]

Jaebeom: You are getting warmer

Don’t disappoint me now baby

Give yourself up to me

There’s no going back, you take another one.

You: [picture]

Jaebeom: Now we’re talking

I want to lick everything I’m seeing

I want you to grab my cock

So you can put it inside you

You: Me too

Jaebeom: I love how wet you are

It’s making me harder

You: It’s how I want you

Read. He’s not replying anymore.

Five minutes later, however.

Jaebeom: [video]

It’s a video of him running him slowly rubbing his dick.

This took FOCUS

You: Wish we could exchange your hand for something else

Jaebeom: God how I wish it were your lips gripping it

Pussy lips*

You: Whichever you want.

Jaebeom: I’m not fucking around Im gonna cum while I still can

Send me one last thing I can cum to?

You send another picture.

Jaebeom: Good girl

God that was a trip

Thank you

I gotta get back to work now.

You: Right, good luck.

#jaebeom smut #got7 smut #jaebum smut #jaebum #jaebeom x you #jaebum x you #jaebum x reader #jaebeom x reader #got7 scenarios #story #jb #mine

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seouledbysisi · 3 years

Text

Sticker

Genre: fluff/romance/suggestive

Word Count: 1.7K

Chapter 3: Lemonade

Taeyong slouched down on the couch in their weekend rental. They were taking a short break before their new comeback schedules became flooded.

Johnny tapped his leg, knowing he needed someone to talk to *probably*. “What’s up, bro?” He formed a sneaky smile.

Taeyong snapped out of his thoughts. “Nothing. Why?”

“You just seem like something is bothering you. But if it’s nothing I guess I can go-“

Taeyong grabbed his hand and pulled him back down on the couch. “Are all American girls like her?”

Johnny lifted an eyebrow and burst out laughing. “Like what? Crazy when their drunk? Beautiful? Clumsy? Like what Taeyong?”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “Nothing, just forget I said anything!” He crossed his arms over his chest feeling a massive amount of frustration. He didn’t have much experience around women except for work purpose and they always acted up to par because in Korea your image was everything. You could say he was a bit naïve outside of the idol world but quite frankly they all were, but some more than others. He had never dipped his feet in the lady pool because work was too important to him. Entertaining had become his one stop shop and he didn’t have a college degree to fall back on, so he had to make his family proud somehow and honestly, he loved doing what he did. Seeing all the smiling faces while onstage gave him a rush like no other.

“I’m sorry Tae, I’ll be serious now. All girls are like that. Why are you so worried about it, I doubt you’ll ever see her again. It’s water under the bridge. It’s cool, bro, just chill.” He punched his arm playfully. “You’re coming out with us?”

Tae sighed. “I’ll meet with y’all later, I need some fresh air.”

Johnny nodded and left with the other guys.

**********************

Kaya’s phone pinged with a message.

We’re @ Big Rock Bar.

Senna glanced at her friend’s phone and noticed that the kakao id was the same one that has texted her earlier.

“Kaya, who is this person? It’s obvious we both know them.” Senna was a bit irritated. She still had a hangover and just wasn’t in the mood for shenanigans.

Kaya smiled big. “I may have given Jaehyun our information the other night when you were drunk.”

“So, this trip is to meet them?! Why would we ever do that?” Senna rubbed her temples.

“Why wouldn’t we, Senna?”

“Because quite frankly I don’t want Taeyong to see me again. It’s bad enough that I was drunk and don’t remember everything. Making matters worse is not the move.” Senna blew a breath of frustration out.

Kaya continued driving. “This is your chance to make things right!”

“Stop the car!” Senna argued. “Please, Kaya. Just let me out. I need some air.”

Kaya pulled over to a safe spot. There was a street market nearby. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Senna shook her head. “Go to the bar, don’t let me ruin your fun.” She smiled softly and shut the car door.

The nice breeze crisply hit her face. She rarely wanted to be alone, but she was stressed and too scared to face Taeyong. She had made a fool of herself already; she didn’t want to add insult to injury.

Her phone began ringing. It was Min. She didn’t feel like talking to him either. He was great but she knew tonight would be an argument because her tongue slipped. She really liked him but sometimes, when drunk, her eyes wandered and wished to be single again.

She stopped at a tteokbokki stand. “One please.” She told the older lady.

She walked along the path that was full of friends hanging out and couples having a casual date. The wind had become brisk, suddenly it began pouring. Thank goodness the street market had canopies, but she would be there for a long while.

Min still hadn’t stopped calling and she really wanted to turn it off, but she couldn’t because if she did it would make it too apparent that she was ignoring him.

She sat against the wall and waited for the rain to stop.

After a few minutes she noticed a presence sit on the wall beside her. She took a glance at the person just to make sure it wasn’t anyone sketchy.

The person had earbuds in his ears and wasn’t paying her any attention, as if he even should. He was in his own world, and she should’ve been doing the same.

Her phone rang again, and she huffed.

Kaya 📷

“Thank God it’s you, Kaya!” Senna exclaimed when she answered her phone.

Kaya began to panic. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah girl, Min keeps blowing my phone up and I’m just not in the mood to argue with him.”

Kaya giggled. “Tae isn’t even here. You would’ve been fine.”

“What?! Taeyong isn’t there?” She yelled a bit too loud.

The guy next to her snapped his head in her direction.

Senna glanced over at him and apologized but then noticed just why the guy’s attention.

“Sis, I may have an idea why he’s not there. . .” Senna spoke lowly.

Kaya could barely hear her. “What?!”

“Are you following me?!”

Kaya heard a male’s voice in the background yelling. “Um Senna where are you?”

Senna whined a bit. “I’ll call you back.” She hung up. “Taeyong, shh! Please.”

Taeyong began to stand.

Senna grabbed his hand and pulled him back down to the ground. “I promise if you just give me 2 minutes I can explain!”

“You have 1.” He said without looking at her. “The clock is ticking.”

She took a deep breath. “My friend and Jaehyun somehow put this together. Once I figured out why my friend came to this city, I immediately was against it. I’m here at this street market because I didn’t want to go to the bar that y’all were going to! I promise!”

Taeyong eyed her for a moment. “So, this is a coincidence?”

“Yes. How would I have known you’d be here?”

Taeyong shrugged. “I can’t get rid of you it seems.”

Those words hit her heart like a wrecking ball. “Don’t worry, I won’t bother you ever again.” She told him solemnly and walked away. The rain has tapered off a bit. A little rain wouldn’t kill her.

Taeyong watched her disappear in the distance. His mind was racing. He knew his words were too harsh but every time she was around, he was reminded that he had no experience with women which made him uncomfortable because he didn’t know what to do or say; but the sudden realization was that hurting her feelings wasn’t the route to take.

He ran through the crowd of people trying to search for her but to no avail. After a minute or so he finally saw her, but she had just gotten into a cab. He waved another cab down and instructed the driver to follow the cab in front of him. He had to at least apologize for being rude. His heart felt uneasy with allowing her to leave the way he had.

Her cab stopped in front of a restaurant.

Big Rock Bar

He jumped out the car and rushed to her. His hands landing on her upper arms to stop her. “What’s your name?”

Senna stared at him I shock. “Why does it matter? Do you want to blacklist me with other idols?”

Taeyong shook his head. The rain was pouring on them. “What’s your name?”

Senna exhaled loudly. “Senna. Now can I get out the rain?” She tried to shrug out of his grip, but he wouldn’t let go.

“Senna, I’m sorry for being rude. You apologized for your actions so now I think I should.” He cracked a small smile. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

Senna smirked. “Thanks. Now can I go in?”

He immediately dropped his hands. “Sure.” He looked away for a moment. “Are they still in there?”

Senna nodded and walked towards the doors, leaving him behind. She found Kaya and the guys and immediately joined them.

Kaya handed her some napkins so she could wring her wet hair out. “Is it still raining hard?”

Senna simply nodded but didn’t say a word.

Taeyong joined them at the table a couple of minutes later.

“How’d you know we were here?” Jaehyun asked.

Taeyong’s eyes widened. “Didn’t y’all mention this place at the rental?”

The guys all shook their heads.

“We didn’t know we were coming until after we left the rental.” Doyoung revealed. “Wait- were y’all together?”

Senna and Taeyong both yelled “NO!”

Yuta lifted an eyebrow. “Both soaked. Both smell like food. Both come at same time. Smells fishy.”

Senna shook her head. “I came first!”

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “Can we talk about something else than something truly impossible?”

Kaya nudged Senna’s leg. “Were y’all together?” She whispered.

“We’ll talk at the hotel.” Senna whispered back.

“Kaya, would you like another drink? It’s all on me tonight.” Taeil offered.

Kaya smirked. “Everyone’s?”

Taeil shook his head. “Only yours tonight. And while we’re at it, text me sometime.” He slid her phone out of her hand and added his kakao.

Kaya was a bit taken aback. Taeil normally didn’t seem this forward from the videos she had seen of him. “Are you normally this confident?”

Taeil chuckled. “No, but I see a couple others with their eyes on you so I have to speak up if I want to be in the race at least.”

Kaya raised her glass up to his. “Smart move.”

Senna was deathly quiet.

“You want a drink, Senna?” Johnny offered.

Taeyong immediately intervened, “No, please no!”

Senna covered her face. “A lemonade is fine.” She was still embarrassed over her drunken night the night before and she can’t imagine the horrifying flashbacks that Taeyong gets every time someone mentions alcohol.

“Sorry, you can drink if you want.” Taeyong looked towards the bar.

Senna giggled a little. “I don’t remember much. Just tell me was I that bad?”

Taeyong thought of a nice way to answer. “Lemonade is a good choice tonight.”

Stay tuned~

#nct taeil #nct taeyong #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct 127 #nctzen #czennie #kpop #soft hours #kpop romance

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muilkyu · 4 years

Text

Comfort in the Sunrise

Genre: Fluff with a tiny bit of angst

Member: Doyoung

Word Count: 2.2k

Requested by: @rainyviolet

"What are you doing Friday night?"

"I don't have any plans. I was going to go to cram school, but I just decided to catch up early on my math notes last night," I shrug reaching for my math workbook out my locker

Doyoung smiles, "Perfect. What do you think about a movie night?"

"That sounds fun. What is playing in theaters right now?"

"Actually I was thinking we could watch it in your dorm. Last time you came over my mom had us keep the door open the whole time," he shivers probably at the thought of his overbearing mother.

I can't have Doyoung at the dorm again. The last time I snuck him in we ended up falling asleep on a school night. We got into a bunch of trouble with his parents. I wasn't able to see him for a month and a half including school. Mrs. Kim had spies all over the school.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Your mom will kill you and me if she finds out."

"That's exactly why I'll tell her I'm staying at Yedam's. He'll vouch for me." Doyoung suggests. I know right then and there he has been planning this out.

"What if your mom calls his mom?" I ask, closing my locker. Then I turn to fully face him. I wonder how long he has been planning this. Probably the other night after we went to Daiso he was distracted.

Doyoung reaches for my books. He likes to carry them for me. He says he's just being a good boyfriend, but it's kinda embarrassing. Some girls around school think I push him around when it's actually nothing like that. It's actually the fact that Doyoung wants to be someone I can rely on so he just does little things that take the stress off my shoulders.

"She won't. My mom trusts his mom a lot." Doyoung counters as you start your walk to your homeroom.

"No, it's not a good idea. I don't want you to get in trouble." I conclude shaking my head.

He wraps his arm around my shoulder pulling me closer whining, "Why not? Come on I'll be super careful."

"No Doyoung and that's final I have to study anyway," I say, pushing him off my shoulders. I don't want to be harsh, but he'll keep bothering me about it if I don't make the situation semi-serious.

"You'll change your mind," he says as we reach my homeroom.

When lunch comes Doyoung is already at the door of the classroom waiting for you. He is holding his ID up between two fingers. Which means he wants both of you to go to the school pantry instead of getting lunch. A dead indication that he still wants to convince you to have a movie night.

"Come on, let's go, we only have 45 minutes."

I get up making my way over to him, "Don't try to buy your way over to my dorm."

He gasps dramatically putting his hand over his chest, "Of course not. Can't I just get us some food."

I looked at him, my eyebrow raised, "You're not gonna convince me."

"I'm not even gonna try."

When Friday comes around it seems that Doyoung has decided to give up on trying to come over. He does however seem to be sad about it. Although he doesn't want to show it he's sad you didn't agree. I just hoped that he would see that it was the best for both of you.

"Are you still mad about the movie?" I ask after school on Friday.

"No, I'm over it. You're right my mom would be mad if she found out and you could get in trouble too." Doyoung says. He has his arms crossed over his chest with my books placed in his arms.

I feel bad. I decided to change the topic, "What are you going to do tonight instead?"

"I'm just going to go to Yedam's we are going to work on a song for his class." He replies.

"Finally I love it when you sing," I compliment pushing his shoulder. I'm teasing it a little bit.

He turns red with a flush on his face, "I'm not even that good of a singer."

"Don't lie. You sing way better than I could ever."

This makes Doyoung's face turn completely red. He holds the books a little tighter to his chest, "Whatever. It's getting late, you should head home."

It's only like 5, but I still agree to head home. Korea is safe, but not every place is 100% safe. "Text me when you finish your song with Yedam I wanna be the first one to hear it."

"Of course I'll see you later."

"Add in two tablespoons of Korean Red Pepper Flakes. I usually use two, but you can use more depending on the amount and how spicy you want your tteokbokki." The Korean ajumma instructs. I'm watching a video on how to make tteokbokki. I'm craving it but delivery is expensive when you don't have a job.

"Is that too much?" I questioned to myself. I don't want it to be super spicy, but I also don't want it to be bland. "You know what I should have just made grilled cheese. It would have been simple, easy, and not take me 30 minutes."

I added the red pepper to the pot watching it as the water turned bright red. Hopefully, the red pepper won't add too much of a kick. I keep watching the video as the lady adds in more red pepper to the pot. As I wonder if I have cheese on the top of my tteokbokki someone knocks at my door.

It's probably just one of the girls from next door. Usually, they ask me if I want to crash at their place and watch a movie. Being away from home can get super lonely. Without even second-guessing myself I open the door. Instead of seeing one of my neighbors, I'm met with a smiling Doyoung.

"Surprise," he says. Walking into the threshold of my apartment, arms opened waiting for a hug.

"How did you get in?" I question instead. If Doyoung comes over I usually have to sneak him in before curfew. Which also consists of me hiding him in my closet when the RA comes to check our rooms.

He shuts the door walking in, "I had one of the girls hide me."

"You had another girl hide you in their room! What is wrong with you?" I exclaim my eyes wide. He really is an idiot.

"Don't worry it was one for the 1st year girls. I think she has a crush on me. She was blushing a lot," he casually responds walking into the kitchen, "Oh you're making food. Can I have some?"

"No, you can't. You shouldn't even be here. You have to leave." I complain following him.

He sighs, getting a bowl down from the cabinet, "Too late now. It would be a risk to sneak me back out."

"I can't believe this is your idea of a surprise." I make my way back to the stove. I check on the rice cakes to see if they are soft.

"It's not that big of a deal." He shrugs off.

I turn around at that remark. "No, it is a big deal. Getting caught means I won't be able to see you anymore. Not only that, but I could get kicked out of school."

His look slightly changes after my comment, "I didn't think about that. Look babe I'm sorry I snuck into your dorm. I should have listened when you kept telling me no."

Frowning I think about the situation he's just put us in. Since he can't leave until the morning might as well just eat and watch a movie or something. "It's okay. Should we eat now?"

Later on into the night, the streets are dead silent. No more cars can be heard on the roads. The building is also at a halt with all the girls probably asleep by now. Doyoung and I just decided to finish off the food. Didn't take very long since I only technically made enough for one person, but in light of the recent intruder, I had to share. We just decided to watch Hi Bye Mama which led to us cuddling on the couch. My head is lying on his shoulder. It's around 2 am by now which means we should probably go to sleep now.

"Are you tired?" I ask, resisting the urge to yawn.

"Yeah, we should probably go to bed now." He stands up stretching, arms outstretched, a yawn leaving his mouth. I get up right after him picking up one of the throw pillows on the couch. Doyoung squinted his eyebrows raised confused, "Are we sleeping on the couch?"

"No I'm gonna sleep on my bed you're taking the couch."

He groans, "We usually sleep together."

I continue to arrange the couch into a makeshift bed. I snorted, "That was before you completely ignored what I said and well I don't know snuck into my dorm. Not to mention you had a 1st year help you."

I start to walk off but am pulled back by a frowning Doyoung, "If I sleep here my back will hurt. Please I promise no funny business."

"Nope, you broke my trust. You sleep on the couch," I say patting him on the check. I walk away before he can say anything else. Although I can hear him mumbling under his breath.

At around 5 I wake up in a cold sweat. My head is burning up. Not to mention the headache I have feels even worse. Trying to get up is also a no go. Every time I try to sit up, my stomach churns. My throat is sore too. I feel paralyzed.

"Doyoung," I try to call out. It hurts to yell, but I still call out for him. 5 minutes or so passes before I finally hear my bedroom door open.

"Are you okay?" Doyoung asks from the door. It's nearly pitch dark in my room. The only light is from the sunrise that is slowly beaming in through the curtains.

I don't respond verbally just slowly trying to shake my head. When the pain hits I let out a cry the tears start to fall from my eyes. Doyoung is over at the bed crouched down within seconds. He feels my forehead as soon as he reaches the bed.

"You're burning up. Are you sick? Should I go get some medicine?"

I just groan in disagreement. I manage to croak out a small 'water'. He's up and out after that. The tears start to fall faster when the fridge door is opened. I finally manage to shift in my bed immediately curling myself into a ball. Doyoung came back with a cup of water and straw after I moved. Sitting by the side of my bed he reaches over to wipe the hair out of my face.

"Here take a sip," I take a small sip from the cup which helps. My throat is no longer dry. There are still soft caresses on my head. Doyoung shifts from his knees to sitting on his butt. His eyes are wide and filled with concern. All the attention is on me. It's kinda embarrassing that I have to rely on him for so much.

"I'm sorry," I get out. My throat is still scratchy, but it doesn't hurt as much to speak.

"You don't have to be sorry for anything," he replies. His hand moves to rest on my cheek. His thumb moves slightly wiping at the tear stains. He lets out a sigh, "Can you tell me what happened?"

I try to look anywhere else, but at him. This is really not how I wanted my Saturday to go. I should tell him though he'll understand. Doyoung usually knows what to say and what to do. If I tell anyone it should be him.

"Yeah, I just had a bad dream," I confess.

"Ah," is how he responds. I can tell he is thinking about what the right thing to say is. One of the reasons I like him so much. Although I am a little standoffish he always pushes me to open up. Little by little he has become a rock for me.

"I'm sure you don't want to tell me about it. I won't force you to do anything you don't want too. Look I will stay with you till you don't want me to be here anymore. Or if you want me to leave now I will. What is your choice?"

"Stay."

Doyoung nods he gets up from his spot on the floor. Slipping his slippers off he climbs over me laying down in the bed. He pulls the sheets back and snuggles into a pillow. I slowly turn around to look at him.

The smile he gives me makes me forget about the headache pounding in my head. The only thing in my mind is him. I really am lucky to have him.

I hope you enjoyed! Sorry this was a little sad!

My requests are opened again!

#treasure #treasuremaker #treasuremakers #treasure reactions #treasure scenarios #yg treasure #doyoung #kim doyoung #treasure doyoung #treasure doyoung scenario #doyoung scenarios #treasure scenario #kpop #kpopxreader #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 3 years

Text

Twelve Days of Holly, Jolly Tidings - Day 5

Disclaimers: I watched “Dash & Lily” the other day on Netflix. This story is LOOSELY based on that book and Netflix series. I do not own “Dash and Lily” or Newsies or anything recognizable within the series. There are occasional curse words throughout the series, nothing too horrible but there’s some. Tuesday, December 17

As she left her apartment that morning, a figure was waiting on the steps for her. Her eyes went wide as she shut the main door to the apartment building behind her. “Race, what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, actually.” He grinned, offering her one of the cups in his hand. “Jack mentioned that you loved Peppermint Hot Chocolate.”

Accepting the cup, she took a hesitant sip before grinning brightly at him. “And what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you so early on a Tuesday morning? Usually, you’re the one that doesn’t get out of bed before noon unless something important is going on.”

“Well, some might consider this really important.” He said reaching into his bag and pulling out the familiar emerald green notebook. “I believe you are anticipating this.”

Taking the notebook from him, she grinned. “Did you know that he’s been planning this?”

“Somewhat. He mentioned it when he was last over at mine and Spot’s apartment. We offered him help but he denied any help. He said he had it all mapped out and that it was going to be epic - his words not mine.” Race shrugged.

Kat giggled. “It’s been pretty epic so far. This is going to be hard to top with my Christmas present to him.”

“I don’t think he wants you to top it.” Race smiled. “I think he just wants to have something that you can look forward to in the day's ahead. Also, he mentioned that he just wanted to see you smile.”

Her chocolate brown eyes flew up to meet his bright blue eyes. “So you know what’s going to happen?”

“I didn’t say that.” Race evaded her glances. “He did mention that you’ve been down these previous few weeks so he wanted to do something that would make you smile and create something that makes you look forward to the upcoming holiday.”

She smiled, taking another sip of her drink. “He’s a good guy and I absolutely love him for doing this.”

“You better get to work. It was good seeing you and Merry Christmas, Kat.” Race gave her a half hug, dropping a kiss on her head.

“Thank you for this and the talk.” She grinned. “And Merry Christmas to you and Spot as well.”

With that, he hopped down the stairs, walking in the opposite direction she would be walking to get to work. Slipping the notebook in her bag, she headed towards the subway station to catch the subway towards Time Square.

Once seated on the train, she pulled the notebook from her bag, flipping it open to the marked page.

Good morning Kat!

Happy day 5 of this adventure. Did you like your surprise this morning? I may have asked some of our friends to help out ensuring you receive the notebook. Gotta keep you on your toes, Plums!

I had a wonderful time on our date night - it’s always wonderful to spend time with you and last night’s cuddle session on the roof was the perfect way to start the week. The way your face lit up when you talked about the notebook and the adventures, I would say this has been a resounding success so far and that makes me happier than you could ever imagine. But there’s so much more to come.

So from the moment I met you, I could tell you were a reader, not that you ever willingly shared that information. Or not until we were officially dating. But one of your favorite places, no matter where you are, is getting lost in a bookstore. In fact, I have been with you, several times in fact, when you have gotten lost in the bookstore.

So today, your adventure is going to a bookstore. Not just any bookstore but you’re to go to the Westsider Books. I don’t believe you’ve ever been here but it’s one of the great hidden treasures within the city. When you get there, ask for Cora, she’ll be able to help you.

Flipping the book close, she ran the name of the bookstore in her head. Truly to Jack’s words, she hadn’t ever been there, nor she’s never heard the name before. Jack was right, she could get lost in any bookstore and she had thought she had visited most of them throughout the city but as Jack usually does, he surprised her.

Getting off at the subway station, she made her way above ground before heading to the Times Building. Much like she did most days, she tapped her ID, allowing her to gain access to the elevator before heading up to the 14th floor. Making her way to her desk, she dropped her bag on the ground, turned on her computer, and collapsed into her comfy chair. A happy sigh escaped her mouth before she got to work on the day ahead.

4:30pm

As she shut down her computer, her cell phone dinged with an incoming text message. Picking it up, she heaved her bag to her shoulder before heading to the elevators. Wishing some of her colleagues a good night, she walked into the elevator watching the doors slide shut as she descended. Unlocking her cell phone, she smiled seeing Jack had texted her.

Been to the Westsider yet?

She shook her head at his text, a giggle escaping her mouth as the elevator dinged and she headed out into the lobby before walking out into the bitterly cold New York City wind. Pulling her coat and scarf tighter, she made her way towards the subway station.

Waiting for the train to arrive, she took the time to reply to Jack’s text. Heading that way now.

Hopping on the 1 line, she swayed with the train as it traveled underground. Getting off at the correct station, she mentally prepared herself for the cold once more before heading up to street level.

She consulted with Google Maps before heading in correct directions, arriving a few minutes later. Looking up at the building, she shivered, pulling open the door before escaping into the warmth of the bookstore. Her eyes went wide at how utterly gorgeous the inside was. Every square inch was covered in bookshelves that were heaving with various books, all shapes, sizes, and colors. There were a few chairs downstairs but only one was occupied by a man reading.

A giggle caught her attention, her head whipping in the direction. “Hi! Welcome to Westsider Books. Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Cora.” She asked, walking closer to the counter.

The young girl’s face brightened nodding. “I’ll go get her. Can I have your name to tell her?”

“It’s Katherine.” She said, watching the girl walk to the back as her eyes swept the shop. Everywhere her eyes went, there were stacks and stacks of books. There was a stairway that led upstairs to even more books. She felt a familiar warmth that she typically associated with bookstores but this was much more homey than normal.

“Katherine?” A middle aged woman asked, walking closer to her as not to scare her.

Pushing a smile onto her face, Kat held out her hand. “Yes that’s me. You must be Cora?”

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.” Cora smiled, shaking Kat’s hands.

Biting her lip, she looked at the woman in front of her. “Unfortunately, I’m not that well in the know.”

“Jack mentioned as much.” She laughed, walking towards the stairs. “Come on. There’s something I want to show you.”

Kat smiled at the girl behind the counter before following Cora upstairs. As they reached the top of the stairs, Kat smiled seeing a couple of cozy chairs in the middle of the room with bookshelves surrounding the walls. “Come have a seat.”

Once settled, Kat glanced over at Cora. “So, how do you know Jack?”

“He’s my great nephew. His grandma and I are sisters. He’s been coming here since he was little.” Cora smiled. “He even worked a few summers here, cataloging the books as they came in.”

Kat smiled. “I’m sorry we haven’t met until now but he has mentioned you on occasion.”

“I am too but I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I know you, which is why I wanted to give you this.” Cora handed Kat a worn book that looked like it had been read many times.

Kat flipped open the book, flipping through the first couple of pages until she came to the title page “The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh”. She smiled at the title. “It’s a first edition, isn’t it?”

“It is. But more than that, it was always the book that drew Jack’s attention when he was here.” Cora smiled. “I often wondered why a teenager would be drawn to a children’s book, as it’s not the oldest book we have in the shop, nor the prettiest. But he said that whoever’s book it was, must have loved that book because of how worn the pages and cover is. He loved that the book could tell its own stories, even when it was passed along to someone else. Don’t let him fool you, he was often found hiding between the shelves with a stack of books beside him, reading the day away.”

Running her hand over the cover, Kat smiled. “He’s always been pretty sentimental, at least around me. It probably doesn’t hurt that he’s an old soul.”

“He’s always been that way, even as a little boy.” She smiled fondly, caught up in whatever memories she was reliving. “Anyways, I wanted to give this to you so that you can add it to your collection, as Jack mentioned you’re bibliophile.”

Kat nodded, holding the book to her chest. “Thank you. I’ll cherish it.”

“You’re welcome.” Cora stood. “Jack told me to tell you that the note continues on in the notebook - I’m assuming you know what that means?”

Chuckling, Kat nodded, pulling the notebook out of her bag. “I sure do. Thank you for sharing that story with me.”

“You’re welcome, Kat. Stay as long as you want.” Cora smiled at her before descending down the stairs.

Flipping open the notebook, Kat grinned seeing Jack’s rough handwriting.

So you got to meet my Aunt Cora. I really hope she didn’t spill any embarrassing stories about me but if she did, don’t hold them against me.

I spent my teenage summers in that bookstores - cataloging the books as people brought them in. Don’t tell Aunt Cora but I spent a lot of time reading the books and getting lost in the stories. One of my favorites is the book that is in your possession - The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. I always loved reading what Pooh and his friends would get up to and what Christopher Robin would have to get them out of.

George R. R. Martin once said “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.” And I know that’s why you read. You are always looking for adventures but you have all those books at your fingertips - you can travel the world and never leave your living room.

I know you have too many to count, but think about your favorite books. What have they taught you over the years? Have you lived your thousand lives? Any place in particular you want to go? Write down your thoughts . . . let yourself dream for a few minutes.

Grabbing her pen, she shook her head at Jack. Writing down her top 20 favorite books, though difficult, she smiled at her list. “To Kill a Mockingbird”, “The Secret Garden”, “The Selection Series”, “Matilda”, “The Nightingale” and “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” all were in her top 20.

She wrote about all the places she had visited in books and one day dreamed of visiting - Ireland, London, Spain, Germany, Thailand, Poland, Mexico, Brazil - the list was endless. Smiling softly, she hadn’t lived her thousand lives, not yet at least, nor was she any way near close but each of those lives she took with her into the everyday society she lived.

I’m sure there are some of those books that you wrote down that I’ve never read . . . . I’ll even bet on it. But those books are what make you, you. And I love those books, even though I’ve never read them, simply for helping shape you into the woman I fell in love with.

Now there’s a surprise awaiting for you. Head back downstairs and go to the left corner by the window. Your surprise should be there.

Love you!

Jack

Carefully putting the notebook and her new book in her bag, she headed downstairs. She smiled at Cora behind the counter before walking over to the corner by the window. She saw someone sitting in the chair reading “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer”. She paid them no attention, opting to walk past them and towards the corner. She grinned, seeing a navy blue bag sitting in the corner. Taking on the couch, she pulled the tissue paper out. Unwrapping it, there was nothing there. Tilting her head, she looked in the bottom of the bag where a slip of paper was. “Look up” was written on the piece of paper.

Doing as the paper said, she glanced up. Instead of “The Many Adventures of Tom Sawyer”, she saw Jack sitting in the chair with an amused look on his face. “Hi love.”

“Hi yourself.” She shook her head, chuckling at him. Putting the tissue paper back in the bag, she watched him join her on the couch. “This is different than the previous few days.”

Shrugging, he reached over and laced his fingers with hers. “Like I said, I gotta keep you on your toes, Plums. Did you like the book?”

“I did. Cora and I had a nice chat.” She said, as he grinned.

Sheepishly, he gave her a look. “I know. I’ve been here all afternoon.”

“Oh have you?” She was amused by how shy he had gotten all of a sudden. “Why?”

Squeezing her hand, he smiled at her. “Because I knew this was one that I had to see your face when you walked in. This is going to become one of your happy places. Besides, I haven’t seen Aunt Cora in a while and wanted to catch up with her.”

“Thank you Jack.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re amazing and I love all of your entries in the notebook.”

He laughed. “Oh you think this is over? You’ve got 7 more days. But I’m guessing you want your surprise?”

“I’m guessing you want the notebook?” She reached into her bag for the emerald green book, handing it over to him as he handed her a wrapped box.

He tucked the book away, watching her open the present. “You put a lot of pressure on a girl, you know?”

“Good thing you didn’t realize I’ve been watching you open your presents these last few days.” He said, as her wide eyes flew to his.

“I knew I felt someone watching me but every time I looked, I couldn’t see anyone.” She cried, reaching over and hitting his shoulder.

He laughed. “You just didn’t know the right place to look. Besides, I’m in those places to ensure that I retrieve the notebook and no one else does.”

Shaking her head, she was starting to realize how elaborate this plan actually was. “Thank you for doing this . . . this has been absolutely wonderful.”

“You’re welcome . . . now are you going to open that present or leave me in suspense?” He joked, nudging her side. She gave him a look before continuing to unwrap the present.

Popping off the lid, she smiled seeing a pen charm nestled in the cotton. She picked it up, looking at it closer in detail. “It’s gorgeous, Jack.”

“A pen for the best writer I know.” He grinned, leaning over and capturing her in a kiss.

“You’re biased, Kelly but I really do love it. Thank you.” She kissed him back.

He smiled, watching her put the charm back in the box before tucking it away in her bag. “Can I buy you dinner?”

“You did that last night. How about I buy you dinner tonight?” She suggested, standing, swinging her bag onto her shoulder, offering him her hand.

He started to argue as she gave him a look. “Please, let me do this?”

He nodded as he let her pull him to his feet. Once he was steady, Kat wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging him towards the door. “Let’s go.”

Waving goodbye to Cora, the two set out into the wintery night, playfully arguing about where to go for dinner.

What did you think of Jack surprising Kat? Feedback would be wonderful and much appreciated. Five days down; seven more to go - any predictions on what you think will happen in those seven days?

#Newsies #Newsies Fan Fiction #Newsies Holiday Fic #Twelve Days of Holly Jolly Tidings #writing #jack x katherine #holiday fic

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psychopersonified · 4 years

Text

Tale of the second drawer...

Part of the prequel series to "Are we ever going to talk about this?".

I'll post little snippets of their 'not dating' days in this series. Little events that draw them together and the intimacy they share in plain sight.

--------

Q pokes at the plaster with his undamaged hand, tracing the outlines of what must be an impressive blister underneath. “Owww... With luck, I might end up with a wicked scar. Makes for an interesting conversation starter.”

Bond smiles indulgently at his exaggeration then lobs a half-hearted line at him, “Would you like me to kiss it better?” His calloused thumbs running back and forth lightly over the open palm.

Q can’t help but laugh at that,......

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

Agent 006

“Yes I know, our appointment was 2 hours ago. Sorry Q, M had me in his office for 2 more hours than expected,” Trevelyan apologises when he reports to Q.

Q looks up from the textbook he is consulting with and peers over his glasses at him. The text is a mass of hexagonal scribbles and lines that 006 recognises as chemistry symbols. There are handwritten notes in the margins and liberal application of highlighter all over the page.

“Ah 006, no worries. Your kit is waiting for you on the table,” Q gestures to the workbench behind 006 where a brushed aluminium case sits. Inside are what looks like a dozen silver pens.

“Deposit them around the areas of interest and it will detect any wireless enabled equipment within its radius. This will allow us to find the weakest link and likeliest backdoor where we can tunnel in with. As you can imagine, it only has a limited battery life, so you’ll need to be strategic about using them and coordinate with us for the timing—...”

Alec tries to listen carefully to the instructions, but his stomach objects to being ignored any longer and makes its displeasure known - loudly. The meeting with M ate (pun intended) into his lunch hour.

Q pauses going over the instructions. Trevelyan gives him a thin lipped smile hiding his embarrassment.

“...Hungry? There are some snacks in the second drawer.” Q motions to his desk with a tilt of his head.

“Ta!..” 006 all but skips to the desk. There is a selection of protein snacks and Alec rummages through the drawer to find a variety he likes. As he shuffles through the drawer, the other contents piques his interest. He peeks at Q who is still preoccupied with repacking his kit.

006 takes the opportunity to investigate:

a pair of solid gold cufflinks - judging by the weight

aviator sunglasses - non prescription, not Q’s

an Aston Martin car key fob with a separate key attached to it - the key does not correspond to the car, its for a door or a lock.

a neatly folded tie, heavy silk, designer label - not Q’s usual style

Curiouser and curiouser. Finally, an employee ID badge - he flips it over, a very familiar face is printed on the ID. James Bond.

Alec smiles -confirmation-. 006 sees it for what it is. But it is odd that the Quartermaster tolerates such territorial behaviour - unless a) the feeling is mutual or b) he’s not aware of it, which is more likely. He wouldn’t have let Alec rummage through his drawer otherwise. Oh James, you poor smitten sod.

“Anything to your liking 006?” Q catches him smiling.

Alec grabs a random protein snack, rips it open and takes a huge bite of the bar. “Oh…mmm….” he chews around his words, “—thank you.” He holds up the bar in thanks.

When Q turns back around, 006 thinks this is the perfect opportunity to screw with 007... but how? How do you piss off a possessive territorial lion? ...By planting blatant evidence of intrusion of course!

Alec checks himself, his tie-pin - gold and crusted with small diamonds. Much too gaudy for 007’s tastes. It’s the perfect juxtaposition. He unclips it and drops it into the drawer.

When he leaves Q-Branch, he’s feeling particularly wicked. Its ingrained in him, to look for and act on opportunities when it presents itself. The others would expect no less of him. He pulls out his phone to text 003 with his discovery.

Agent 003

Two weeks later, 003 returns from her mission seducing the son of a manufacturing tycoon in South East Asia, with links to human traffickers luring workers into modern slavery that span the region from Philippines to India.

She stops by Q’s desk to return her kit consisting mostly of trackers and hidden video cameras. They all served their purpose but one of them had an issue with the sound quality. She recalls the text 006 sent her weeks earlier so before leaving, she contrives feeling hungry.

“Q, you don’t happen to have something to munch on do you? I’m feeling… peckish.”

Q is pre-occupied, checking over the piece of equipment with a macroscope to understand what went wrong. “Oh, second drawer. Help yourself to whatever.”

Perfect. She goes to his desk to retrieve a snack. She only needs to remove the first packet and she has to stifle a laugh.

She spots 006’s panther shaped Cartier tie pin, next to it is 005’s Tiffany tanzanite and platinum drop earrings along with 002’s Bvlgari gold and onyx signet ring. Finally under all of it is 008’s Hermes silk pocket square.

Shoved further into the back of the drawer are the items that Alec told her about, those that belong to 007. The ID badge pushed right to the back facing down - you’d be hard pressed to notice it if you didn’t know it was there.

She had heard that 007 won’t back from Venezuela till Friday, so she’s just in time to add her calling card. She shifts around the snack packets to burry 007’s things and then drops in a stick of Chanel No5 lipstick in its signature flaming red tube - 007 will not be able to miss that.

----—

Quartermaster

Last 36 hours had been exhausting. Q had altogether probably 3 hours of sleep in that period. And he needs a shower. The cats are alright, he just checked the cameras - Q has an automated feeder set up for emergencies like this.

Q had spent the better part of the time hacking into system after system covering tracks, laying traps, planning infiltration and escape routes; all culminating in last night’s tense Ops trying to save 009 from premature death when his cover was blown by a double crossing informant. It was over now, with 009 safely extracted by their allies and on his way back to England with miraculously minor injuries all things considered.

So yes, his hand eye coordination is shot. His fingers slip on his mug handle and liquid sloshes over the top, splashing over his shirt and onto his desk. Q uses his tie to quickly mop up the spilled tea before it spreads onto the paper schematic open on his desk.

He takes the mess to the pantry sink to cleanup. The wet spot on his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin. Its a good thing he’d removed his cardigan earlier. He can hide the stain on his shirt under it.

As he’s attempting to remove the stain and dry his shirt as much as possible he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulls it out - its a text from Eve:

:: Where are you?? Meeting’s started ::

What meeting? Q tries to recall. He checks his calendar app. Shit! 2:00 pm Joint Executive Oversight meeting. He checks the time. 2:15pm!

He abandons the mug and tie next to the sink. No time to wash it now.

Q rushes back to his office to put on his cardigan. The cardigan doesn’t hide the topmost stain - a tie would do the trick. Also god forbid he walks into the meeting dressed so causally. They would think the young Quartermaster was starting a mutiny.

There must be a spare tie in his desk somewhere - Q thinks as he rummages through his drawers. He’s about to ask Nish to borrow his tie when his hand brushes fabric under the stash of snacks and protein bars. He fishes it out - a tie! Yes! He loops it around his neck and starts to tie it - the knot is uneven, but he has no time to worry about it now.

He grabs his laptop and rushes out the door - informing Nish about the meeting and the mess he left next to the pantry sink. He’ll clean it up later.

In the lift on the way up, as he adjusts the hastily knotted tie - he tries to remember when was it that he purchased an accessory this fancy.

——

After meeting. He tries to get back to being productive to make himself feel better. What an ordeal; he had to face-off with Timothy Hayden (IT-Branch HOD) in the meeting - no surprise there. Normally he’d be fine to hold his own. But today, suffering from sleep depravation and a wardrobe mishap meant that he was uncharacteristically flustered, which Hayden took advantage of.

His stained and slightly damp shirt front was passably hidden behind the cardigan and tie, but it still made him self-conscious. What was more, Tanner and Eve kept looking at him oddly. The navy replacement tie looked dark enough in warm light, but when it caught the harsher fluorescent light, it had a slight iridescence to it that clashed with his mustard cardigan - it clearly wasn’t his style nor his tie.

Q fires up the soldering iron. He plans to finish the circuit board for the prototype controller that will be used in a portable drone. Once he confirms it works, he’ll have the schematics sent to a manufacturer to have it miniaturised. He could at least get this bit done today.

Twenty minutes into the ‘zone’ and he has finished a round of soldering. He pauses to check his work against the overall drawing. It doesn’t look quite right.

What? He flips the drawing around. Argh! He grabs a fistful of his hair in frustration. It’s upside down!

He slams his hands down on the work table. The vibration causes the soldering iron resting on its holder to tip over. The weight of its power cord starts to pull it off the table.

Reflex makes him shoot out his hand to grab the iron. But instead of grabbing the handle he misjudges and grabs the tip instead. The 400’C tip burns his palm instantly.

“Ah!!” Q yelps and jolts back in pain. The pain makes him drop the iron - right into his lap.

He stands hastily to avoid the heated tip - and bangs the back of his head against the top baffle of the fume cabinet as well as upending the stool he was sitting on.

“Fuck!!” The escaped curse is something between a hiss and a yell.

His pained curses and bangs draws his minions to investigate. Nish pokes his head around the corner and asks “You alright sir?”

Nish takes in the toppled chair, the disheveled hair, and the way Q is holding on to his hand and makes the correct deduction. Who hasn’t burned themselves soldering?

“Go to medical boss. I’ll tidy this up for you.”

Q hangs his head in utter defeat and sighs heavily. “I’m done for the day I think. Thanks Nish.”

--—-

Agent 007

Bond is back at HQ. Ops had made it clear that he must hand them the USB stick with the time sensitive info he stole as soon as he gets back. They need to link together the web of supply chain involving the cocaine shipment from Venezuela-France-England before the people involved go back into hiding.

So here he is, direct delivery from Heathrow. He had handed the USB stick to R since Q wasn’t around. Then he had gone to the Quartermaster’s desk and the second drawer to retrieve a snack while he waits for Q to return. As jet-lagged as he is, he hasn’t seen the quartermaster for nearly a month and well... he wants more than just the voice to sustain him.

Something on top of the packet grabs his attention. A bright red tube of lipstick. What the...? He shifts the contents around, a gaudy diamond and gold panther tie pin?? And whose bloody pocket square is that???

He checks the lipstick label - Chanel No5… Bloody 003!

He takes stock of the other items again, they -all- look familiar. How do they even know about this drawer? Did Q just let anyone rummage though his desk? Worse, are those snacks not just for him?

And what about his things? A first he can’t find them, then he pulls the drawer all the way out, until the wheels catch on the stoppers. They’re buried under a pile of snacks and shoved all the way to the back. Everything is there, no wait - except the tie.

He slams the drawer shut with enough force to move the desk a few centimetres. Those bastards!

Bond storms out of Q-Branch. None of them better be in the building, especially Trevelyan. This whole thing reeks of his idea.

——

Quartermaster

Medical patched him up and sent him away with a box of hydrogel burn plasters. Dr Chen tells him that they stock it specially for Q-Branch. But that also means she is obligated to report the incident as a work place accident. Great, more paperwork and the irony of having the HOD become a statistic.

Q shuffles morosely back to Q-Branch - will this day end already. He figures he should have a nap before going home. At this rate he is likely to accidentally walk right into the path of a moving bus on the way home.

There is a set of old brown leather Chesterfield sofas, deliberately semi-hidden behind a rack of storage shelves on this floor of Q-Branch. A relic of the 1950s in perfect condition that they found in storage during one of their inventory audits. Q had it brought out to serve as a makeshift lounge, usually used by those working late nights or during pizza parties after CyberWar nights.

He removes his cardigan to use as a blanket and flops onto the sofa.

Hours later, he wakes up and the place is mostly dark except for the safety lighting. Most of his minions have gone home. It’s not uncommon to leave Q here alone when he’s pulling all nighters, but the last person would usually check in on him before they left. Not tonight.

Q indulges in a good stretch and sits up. His head feels better. It doesn’t feel like its swimming or floating anymore. But he is hungry.

He makes way to his desk to collect his things but stops short - startled by the sight of 007 lounging in his chair, feet propped up on the desk, a textbook on Advanced Biofuels open in his hands. He’s not wearing a suit, just a button down shirt and khakis which probably means he just got back from Caracas and hasn’t gone home yet.

“You’re back. What are you doing here?” Q asks softly. Genuine question, what is he doing sitting in a darkened Q-Branch.

“Came to drop off the usb drive. I’ve given it to R since the Quartermaster was temporarily out of commission.”

“Ah. Sorry about that — “ checks his watch and yawns. “That must have been hours ago. What are you still doing here then?”

Bond doesn’t answer. Instead he asks, “Is that my tie?” gestures to the loosened tie around his neck.

“Is it yours? I was wondering about it. I found it in my desk.” Q undos the tie and folds it back neatly before handing it over to Bond. As he does, he notices his own tie now hanging on the shade of his desk worklamp. He reaches for it.

“Leave it. It should dry by Monday.” Bond tells him.

Q opens his mouth to tell him that it needs a wash, but pauses when he catches sight of his Scrabble mug on the table under the light of the worklamp, the white porcelain gleaming pristine - he peeks inside, even the stubborn tea stains are gone. Q blinks in confusion.

Something about the way the two items are arranged prominently on his desk and the feigned nonchalance hiding a pleased look on Bond’s face that makes him wonder.

“Did you.. wash my tie and mug?” Q is having trouble putting together the image of 007 fresh from an infiltration job in Venezuela that involved drug trafficking and a traitorous national guard, then returning to England to do something so mundanely domestic in the pantry sink - by hand no less.

Bond doesn’t answer, then again Q doesn’t expect him to admit it even if he did. He just opens the second desk drawer purposefully and deposits the borrowed tie back in there.

“Are you hungry Q?” Bond asks instead. “Can I tempt you with supper?”

There it is. That odd way that Bond sometimes says ‘Q’ when they are alone. That slight change in tone - softer, less clipped and almost affectionate. He’s beginning to be able to tell Bond’s ‘Qs’ apart.

At the mention of food, Q’s stomach responds with an embarrassing gurgle. “Famished. Something hot with fast service please. I don’t know how much longer I can survive without solid food.”

Bond smiles, pivoting in the chair to put his feet down. He picks up and hands Q his messenger bag - laptop and charger already packed inside, keys and phone in their usual compartments.

Then he switches off the worklamp and picks up an unsealed brown envelope from the desk before ushering Q out of his own office. The package rustles-jingles with the sound of loose items sliding about inside.

“Advanced Biofuels.... How did you like the book?”

“The scribbles in the margins were enlightening,” Bond smiles wryly, “Was it even written in English?”

In the brighter lights of the lift lobby, Q can see his own refection in the lift doors - the washed out tea stains still visible on his shirt and his frightfully mussed hair from the nap. He thinks he should be embarrassed, but can’t bring himself to care. When he looks up, he sees Bond staring him through the reflection.

“Don’t ask—“

“I figured… the mug and tie in the pantry, and the splotch on your desk.”

“Bloody spies.” Q accuses fondly as they step into the lift. He tries to adjust his cardigan so that it hides most of the stains.

“How’s the hand?” Bond asks concerned, his warm fingers reaching out and curling around Q’s that were fussing with his cardigan. He pulls them away from their fussing and spreads them palm up so he can see for himself.

Bond smiles indulgently at his exaggeration then lobs a half-hearted line at him, “Would you like me to kiss it better?” His calloused thumb running back and forth lightly over the open palm.

Q can’t help but laugh at that, the flirting is so ingrained into their banter now that both of them recognise the ridiculousness of it. With the others, it is still a competition, a display of one up-manship - but with 007, it has shifted. Like they’ve called a truce, or simply didn’t care about the outcome anymore. Between them, the rules have changed. The fun was no longer in deciding a winner with a knockout blow, but in the simple joy of engaging in comfortable playfulness for as long as possible.

“I don’t know about the science of that; but I will give you the honour of hand feeding an invalid,” Q counters with a line of his own.

At the mention of hand feeding, Bond’s eyes go darker, pupils dilating. He doesn’t say anything, but doesn’t release Q’s hand until the lift dings on their floor which was (un)fortunately just a moment after.

On their way out to Bond’s car they stop at a security desk. Bond tips out the contents of the envelope onto her desk and leaves the empty envelope next to the items. The night guard’s eyes grow wide at the collection of expensive trinkets.

“Would you mind putting these in the Lost and Found please? Their owners are probably anxious to have them back. Thank you.” He walks back to a waiting Q with a smug smile.

—————-----------------

Note: If you liked this fic, there’s more like it on the blog. Including my take on a kidnapped Q. Enjoy!

#00Q #00q fanfiction #00q fic #q #Quartermaster

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