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ludosgd · 2 years

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Unfinity Update to the Un-tensity Scale!

Hiya everyone! Some time ago I compiled the complete Un-tensity Scale for the un-cards from Magic: the Gathering. These cards don’t work under the normal rules, so I compiled the list to divide them into how close to being rules-compliant they are, from the ones that could work without a problem to those that require you to balance cards on your head. The latest unset, Unfinity, came out a few days ago, so I updated the list! In this post you can find the placements of the Unfinity un-cards, but you can also check out the complete Un-tensity Scale if you want!

Un-tensity Scale for Unfinity acorn cards:

Level 1: Basically Black Border — Cards that perfectly work under the current Magic rules.

White: /

Blue: Fluros of Myra’s Marvels

Black: /

Red: /

Green: Killer Cosplay, Tug of War

Multicolored: /

Colorless: Gallery of Legends

Level 2: Almost There — Cards that would require minimal amount of tweaking, either in their rules text or in the Comprehensive Rules, to perfectly work in black border.

White: /

Blue: /

Black: Scooch

Red: Goblin Blastronauts

Green: /

Multicolored: /

Colorless: Nearby Planet, Gift Shop, Push Your Luck

Level 3: Experimental — Cards with experimental mechanics, most of which have varying levels of rules issues, but are generally fine when played.

White: Far Out, Solaflora Intergalactic Icon

Blue: /

Black: Animate Graveyard

Red: Omniclown Colossus, Trigger Happy

Green: Icing Manipulator, Sole Performer

Multicolored: Claire D’Loon Joy Sculptor, Grand Marshal Macie, It Came From Planet Glurg, Truss Chief Engineer

Colorless: Urza’s Fun House, Centrifuge, Log Flume

Level 4: Printed-card Specific — From this point on, cards can care about things black border can’t: art, watermarks, lines of text… Gameplay-wise, things start to get more silly.

White: Assembled Ensemble, Bar Entry, Jetpack Janitor, Katerina of Myra’s Marvels, Knight in ________ Armor, Leading Performance, Main Event Horizon, Park Re-Entry, T.A.P.P.E.R.

Blue: Busted!, Decisions Decisions, How Is This A Par Three?!, Treacherous Trapezist

Black: Disemvowel, Gray Merchant of Alphabet, Haberthrasher, Nocturno of Myra’s Marvels, Rat in the Hat

Red: Aardwolf’s Advantage, Don’t Try This At Home, Goblin Girder Gang, Ignacio of Myra’s Marvels, Vorthos Steward of Myth, Well Done

Green: Alpha Guard, Hardy of Myra’s Marvels, Jermane Pride of the Circus, Plot Armor

Multicolored: Angelic Harold, Lila Hospitality Hostess, Meet and Greet “Sisay”

Colorless: Greatest Show in the Multiverse, Park Map

Level 5: Physical/Vocal/Outside-the-game Requirements — Here, anything goes, from outside assistance cards to physical or vocal components to any kind of outside-the-game interaction.

White: Form of the Approach of the Second Sun, Get Your Head In The Game, Gobsmacked, Hat Trick, Impounding Lot-Bot, Now You See Me…, Surprise Party, Trapeze Artist

Blue: Animate Object, Astroquarium, Bag Check, Blufferfish, Focused Funambulist, Mobile Clone, Octo Opus, Phone a Friend, Plate Spinning, Super-Duper Lost

Black: Exit Through The Grift Shop, Knife and Death, Photo Op, Questionable Cuisine, A Real Handful

Red: Amped Up, Art Appreciation, Carnival Barker, Devil K. Nevil, Goblin Cruciverbalist, Juggletron, Opening Ceremony, Rock Star, Ticking Mime Bomb

Green: An Incident Has Occured, Mistakes Were Made, Pie-Eating Contest, Spelling Bee, Tchotchke Elemental

Multicolored: “Brims” Barone Midway Mobster, Pietra Crafter of Clowns

Colorless: Standard Procedure, Autograph Book, Blue Ribbon, D00-DL Caricaturist, Souvenir T-Shirt, The Big Top, Cover The Spot, Dart Throw, Guess Your Fate, Memory Test, Scavenger Hunt, Squirrel Stack, The Superlatorium, Trivia Contest

Changes:

Do-It-Yourself Seraph and Socketed Sprocketer go from Level 2 to Level 1, thanks to Exchange of Words and Centaur of Attention respectively being black bordered!

Thoughts on some placements:

Fluros of Myra’s Marvels (level 1): While this card technically works in black border, it is acorn because the whole partner cycle is acorn, as they decided to be consistent with this cycle’s acornness. However, I don’t think this one has power level issues.

Killer Cosplay and Gallery of Legends (level 1): Both can make copies of creature cards. While the mechanic can work in black border, it has slow play issues, because it asks you to have an encyclopedic knowledge of the 20000+ cards that exist in the game, and, especially in the case of Killer Cosplay, it is a dangerous ability to make legal in Legacy/Vintage.

Tug of War (level 1): another card that technically works within the rules, it’s acorn because now subgames are deemed acorn. I can understand that: subgames can be a logistical nightmare in black border games, where the participants probably want a less messy experience. In acorn games however, this card is a blast, just like all other subgame cards!

Scooch (level 2): Scooch can’t be black border because you can’t target dice rolls! However, in a wordier way it might work outside of acorn, so in level 2 it goes.

Goblin Blastronauts (level 2): This card asks you to copy spells or abilities that already resolved, so it doesn’t work within the rules, even though it’s extremely intuitive and probably closer to black border than the level 3 stuff.

Nearby Planet (level 2): Nearby Planet has some rules issues from what I understand, but it’s acorn mostly because it might have been a dangerous card to put in tournament formats, as its level of synergy is super high.

Gift Shop and Push Your Luck (level 2): Both are level 2 just because the Teddy Bear token is pink. Literally just that. So, my thoughts about them are similar to those on Water Gun Balloon Game and Sword of Dungeons & Dragons: play them, and if you don’t like pink just rule it to be colorless or some other stuff ;)

Astroquarium and Juggletron (level 5): While these two cards care about their own art (and caring about art is level 4, not 5), the specific way they do is, I believe, over the line. First of all, they reward specific dimensions for the stickers, but most importantly they reward specific placement too, which arguably falls into dexterity issues. I can see the argument for them being level 4 though, and I would absolutely allow them in level 4 games.

Memory Test (level 5): Normally, in Magic, you can note stuff that is revealed and then hid again, as a memory aid: face-down creatures that have been looked at (Smoke Teller), cards revealed with a spell like Duress, the list goes on. However, Memory Test specifically asks you to play a game of Memory (which is the reason it’s acorn in the first place), so in level 5 it goes!

Conclusion:

Unfinity looks like a blast and I can’t wait to play it; thanks for reading! I hope you found this post interesting and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Enjoy! I will return now to my usual tomfoolery :D

Complete Un-tensity Scale

In-depth Explanation of the Un-tensity Scale

#MTGUNF #MTGUnfinity #MTG #MTGunset #MTGUST #Magic #MagicTheGathering

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spencerreidsconverse · 3 years

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When Evil Doesn't Sleep

summary: Spencer has been gone far too long on a case and when he finally returns home, reader shows him just how much she missed him.

word count: 3.4k

warnings: smut, implied dom/sub undertones, pet names

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Female Reader

A/N: My first fic!!! I hope you all enjoy! <3

“Y/n I’m really sorry but it looks like the case is going to take a lot longer than we thought. We had a recent development and the profile is now pointing to a partnership so now we’re hunting down two unsubs”. You sighed as Spencer rattled off his apologies through the phone before putting him out of his misery “Spencer honey, you don’t have to apologize. Quit worrying about me and focus on catching the bad guys.”

To say you missed Spencer would be the understatement of the century. He had been in Utah for six days already and now with a pair of psychos your odds of finding him in your bed by the end of the week were growing increasingly slim. It didn’t help that you had been swamped prepping for an extra class you’d agreed to take on at Georgetown where you worked as a Criminal Psychology professor. Between both of your hectic work schedules you hadn’t had a real weekend to yourselves in a few months, and while you knew when you first started dating Spencer that it was an inevitable of his job, it had never been this crazy before. They say evil never sleeps but lately it hasn't even taken a catnap.

“I love you Y/N. I promise I’ll come home to you soon and take you out on a real date. I’m sorry darling, I have to go. I’ll text you when I get to the hotel tonight and if you’re still up we can talk for a bit okay?”. “Alright Spence, I love you too. Stay safe okay?”. “I promise, goodbye love.”

Your farewell barely made it past your lips when the dial tone cut you off and once again your boyfriend of three years vanished from your side of the country. You let out an exasperated sigh before reminding yourself that there were other people who needed his help and that you could wait for his attention - at least until that night. Continuing the trek up the stairs of your and spencer’s shared apartment, you managed to haphazardly balance your grocery bags in one hand while unlocking the door and disabling the security alarm, internally cringing at the high shriek that rattled through your brain.

Walking through the living room, you sat the bags on your kitchen counter and began reorganizing the small fridge space to fit all the perishables you had brought home, absentmindedly hoping they wouldn't spoil now that it would be just you for several more days. Moving to the cupboard you replaced the few grab and go snack boxes you had made up to try and encourage Spencer to eat more throughout the day and refilled the paper plate stash that quickly became a requirement after you realized neither one of you could tolerate doing dishes every night. You ripped open the cardboard packaging of yet another microwave dinner and set the timer before leaving to change into more comfortable attire.

Opening the door of your shared bedroom, the smell of vanilla wax melts and dryer sheets hit you like a brick and immediately sent a pang of loneliness through your chest. Spencer was usually around by the time the chores needed done, and you rarely had to do them yourself. Unfortunately, the laundry was piling up and you needed something to distract you so you spent the day running errands and cleaning the apartment more thoroughly than necessary. You walked over to the stack of black dresser drawers and pulled out the first pair of pajama pants you touched, Spencer’s old caltech sweats that now fit you far better than him considering he had received them when he was 14. They looked more like capris on him now and it was embarrassingly difficult to convince him to buy a new pair that fit him properly. You slipped on a tank top and pulled your hair back before making your way lazily to the bathroom to take off the remnants of your simple makeup.

After scrubbing your face clean and pulling your dinner out, you moved to ready the couch for yet another night of binge watching cheesy 90s movies. You selected Clueless and watched the vibrant colors pop across the screen while you dived into your meal, making a poor attempt to ignore the slight freezer burnt taste that lingered after every bite. You finished your dinner and set the bowl aside before covering yourself with a blanket and allowing yourself to sink into the cushions, desperately awaiting Spencer's text.

You were jolted out of your doze by the loud buzzing of your phone against the wooden coffee table. Clumsily you reached for it and managed to swipe the answer pad before it sent your genius to voicemail. “Hello?” you managed before a yawn ripped its way through you suddenly. “Hey Y/N, I’m sorry it’s so late. I didn't mean to wake you, I figured you’d still be up. You should go back to bed love.” For the first time, you noticed the neon green numbers on the microwave. 12:30. You stifled another yawn and shook your head in an effort to wake yourself further “No way, I just dozed off while watching a movie. I was waiting to talk to you. Besides, I’m up now anyways so you might as well stay on with me for a bit. Did you get any further today?” “Well, JJ had the idea that the partners were originally a typical dominant/submissive partnership but that something in the dynamic must have changed because the MO began to deteriorate. We think the partners must have split up now, because we’re finding similar pieces of the previous MO at separate crime scenes.”.

You processed the information he fed you slowly due to your semiconscious state but eventually you put your words in order well enough to respond. “That should be helpful though yeah? I mean, they’re used to working in a partnership so being suddenly separated from your other half so to speak would throw you off track quite a bit right?”. You could practically hear him smiling through the phone as you drew the conclusions the team had come to only a few hours prior. “Yes. We’re hoping to be able to draw them out and trap them. Play them against each other.”.”Does that mean I can stop sleeping on the couch soon?”. You heard him let out a dejected sigh - you knew he hated that you would force yourself onto the cramped couch when you had a king sized bed a few hundred feet away but he understood.

When he had come home in the early hours of the morning after an abrupt end to a case a few weeks after you had moved into his place, he had caught you curled up on the sofa with a throw pillow stuffed under your head. When he questioned you about it the next morning, you simply answered that the bed felt too big without him and that you couldn’t stand the empty feeling. “Sooner than later I hope my love. Y/N I really wish you wouldn’t do that to yourself. It’s horrible for your body. It can put you at a much higher risk for chronic back and neck pain as well as-”. “Spence. I’m not a giant like you are. I fit on the couch much better than you do, and I barely notice the difference.”. You both cringed, hearing the lie clear in your voice. Still, Spencer must have felt bad because he humored you. “If you're sure. What did you do today my love?”. You smiled sadly hearing in his voice just how desperate he was to escape from his reality and come home to you.

”Well, I straightened the house. In fact, it’s so clean i think we could use it as a sterilization room.”. He let out a soft chuckle and you could hear him begin to relax as you recounted the rest of your day, excluding the part about the microwave dinner. Spencer loved to tell you how many of the ingredients were one step away from processed garbage and you decided to opt out of the lecture for the evening. He had more than enough to worry about without having to focus on your diet while he was away. After a half hour of light conversation, a loud yawn betrayed you as you were excitedly discussing the cute puppy you had met on the way to the market. Spencer immediately requested that you hang up and get some more sleep but you refused. After a few minutes of bickering, you relented on the condition that he would read to you until you had fallen asleep. You curled up under the fluffy blanket as Spencer’s even voice recited the collection of Grimm’s fairy tales quickly lured you to sleep.

You woke up the next morning as sunlight peered through the curtains, stretching your body out to ease the aches from the previous night. You smiled softly as your screen lit up with a text from Spencer wishing you a good morning and an update that they had a solid plan for boxing in the two unsubs that afternoon. “If all goes to plan I should be carrying you to our bed before midnight tonight.”. Your smile widened and you sent back “Can’t wait to truly see you - and love you- tonight. I’ll be waiting.” You plugged your phone into the charger and straightened up from the night before when your phone went off again. The one word message glared at you from the screen and you let out an involuntary giggle. “Tease.”. You hoped it gave him something to look forward to until he was back in your arms. You sent back a simple “XO” before deciding to reread one of your favorite books for a few hours to kill some time. You made yourself a sandwich for lunch and had a few glasses of water as the clock slowly ticked by. You were over halfway through the lengthy novel when you received another message.

“We apprehended both unsubs. Hotch is postponing the paperwork until Monday so we can go straight home. I’ll see you in a few hours baby.”. You jumped slightly in celebration before finishing your current chapter, marking your place, and all but skipping to the shower to shave and exfoliate your skin. You knew Spencer would still be heavily worked up once he arrived home and luckily, his favorite release included intertwining your bodies as close as possible and loving you sweetly and slowly.

You took your time in the shower careful not to nick yourself with your razor. You scrubbed your scalp with your nails, letting your stress and soreness melt away under the steam. You waited until the water ran cold before turning the knob and stepping out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and blow drying your hair until it layed perfectly even. You applied lotion all over your skin and stepped out of the bathroom to slip on your black silk robe, knowing it wouldn’t be worth it to dress up further. Spencer would be desperate to feel your skin against his and any fabric in his way didn't stand much of a chance.

You made an actual meal for dinner, a pasta dish with chicken that could be easily reheated for Spencer when he grew hungry later in the night. You helped yourself to a serving and after quickly cleaning up the kitchen and storing the leftovers, you retreated to the bedroom to wait for his return.

You were half paying attention to the feed you opted to scroll through on your phone when you heard the door creak open and bags drop to the floor. You set your phone on the bedside table and ran towards the foyer, all but throwing yourself at the exhausted man in front of you. He took a step back from the impact but still enveloped you in his arms and pulled you impossibly tight into his chest. “Hi baby.” you whispered against the scruffy skin of his jawline, peppering kisses up towards his earlobe. He let out a long sigh of relief and picked you up off the hardwood floor, wrapping your thighs around his waist resulting in a high pitched giggle to erupt from your throat. He kissed you then, slowly at first but quickly building more passionate. Your lungs were burning when he finally allowed you to pull away, opting to kiss down your neck to your collarbones and the skin of your chest that was newly exposed as your robe slipped open.

He carefully made his way back to your room, continuing his kisses back up to your shoulder, stopping only to leave marks you knew would only grow darker as time passed. At the very least he was sure to only mark you in places you could cover with little difficulty. “I missed you so much Y/N. The entire ride home all I could think about was you waiting for me in our bed. My gorgeous girl.”. You felt your chest heat up at his words of admiration, wrapping your fingers into his curls and pulling his lips towards your own once more.

You felt him groan against you and moved to quickly unbutton his shirt, slipping it down his arms and tossing it in the general direction of the hamper. He pulled you up with him then, so you were both on your knees, chest to chest as he pulled your robe fully down your back to the swell of your ass where he grasped at you through the slick fabric. You let out a whine and you pulled his belt off, undoing his jeans desperate to continue. He grinned against your neck and pushed you down so you laid flat on your back, completely exposed to him. He kissed at your stomach, making his way down to your inner thighs. He licked a slow wet trail from your pelvic bone to the top of your clit as you whimpered desperately. “Spence, please… I need more”. He humored you, creating slow small circles with his tongue moaning at the taste. You cried out as he created the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, legs threatening to close around his head when he moved to slip one of his fingers easily inside you as the mix of your own wetness and his saliva aided him. He smirked as he felt your thighs flex before using his left hand to throw one of your legs over his shoulders at a time. He pushed a second finger in, curling them up to perfectly reach your g-spot with every thrust. Soon though, you grew impatient with just his fingers. You needed more and you knew just how to get it.

“I want you so bad Spence. I’ve waited for so long and I just can’t anymore. I need to feel you deep inside of me.”. You were positive those words would leave him just as needy as you were and he proved you right when he kicked his pants the rest of the way off and went to line himself up against you. “Wait.”. He stopped immediately, examining your face for any indication of what was wrong. “What’s the matter baby? Are you okay?”. You shook your head and smiled at his concern before switching your positions so his back was resting against the pillows as you straddle his thighs. He smirked at you as he caught on, trailing his hands up the front of your legs to rest at your hips. “You gonna ride me angel?”. You responded with an eager nod and he squeezed your hips, pulling you up further so you were hovering above him. “Sit pretty like my good girl then.”. You whined softly at his words before slowly sinking yourself down around his length, sucking in a harsh breath at the stretch. Even with how wet you were, the adjustment took longer than usual due to the dry spell you were both suffering from as of late.

When you finally felt stretched out enough to move, you slowly ground your hips forward flush against his. He groaned out, lifting you back up so you were almost completely off of him before pulling you back down. You moaned both at the sensation and the idea of being manhandled by the genius below you. You realized what he was asking though, and began bouncing yourself up and down his cock, stopping every few thrusts to grind your clit down on him. You let out soft moans, and after a few more minutes you felt his fingers dig deeper into your hips and his breaths quicken. You knew he was close and as if on cue you started rubbing fast circles against your clit as he spoke again.

“Baby girl I’m getting close. You gonna cum with me angel?” You nodded furiously in response and you felt him start thrusting up to meet you. You panted as you hurried towards the edge of your orgasm, holding on until his thrusts grew sloppier. “You ready to cum with me baby? You gonna cum on my cock?” “Yeah.. gonna cum all over your cock Doc.” You fought to keep the grin off your face when he moaned at the title. He thrusted deep into you twice, before he ordered your release. “I want you to cum now baby. Cum all over my cock.” You felt your orgasm rip through you, electricity shooting through your limbs. Spencer groaned loudly as you tightened around him before pulling you down deep and releasing inside you.

You both fought to catch your breath as you rode out your highs before you found yourself slumping against his chest, suddenly drained from your activities. You felt him chuckle at your drastic change in energy as he wrapped his arms around you again. “I know you just washed the bed sheets and we’re both sweaty but do you think a washcloth will suffice for tonight?”. You nodded against his chest before slowly lifting yourself up and off of him, rolling onto your back on the other side of the bed. Spencer swiftly made his way across the hall, returning to wipe you down gently with the warm fabric. You shivered as the cool air dried your skin, watching him move throughout your room.

He slipped on a fresh pair of boxers before tossing the washcloth in the hamper along with his previously discarded clothes. He hung your robe on the back of your bedroom door then flipped the light switch off before rejoining you in bed to slip under the blankets with you. You immediately curled up into his chest, sighing contently as the sound of his heartbeat filled your ears. You kissed his chest and whispered goodnight, drifting into your first real sleep since before he left.

The next morning you and Spencer went shopping after you successfully convinced him to upgrade to a smart phone with video call abilities. He had begun to shut down the idea as he always had before but after the mere suggestion of what it could do to better your late night hotel room chats he was the one pulling you towards the nearest phone shop. You smiled politely while Spencer took his sweet time weighing the pros and cons of each model, letting your mind drift to the first time it would come in handy. As you finally neared the checkout counter, you took Spencer's hand in your own and gave it a gentle squeeze. After running his card through the machine, the salesgirl gave him the small plastic bag and wished you both a good afternoon.

As you exited the shop, you looked up at him, nudging him to get his attention “What do you think of an app controlled vibrator?”. He stared at you incredulously for a few moments, almost stopping dead in his tracks. After recovering from the initial shock at the vulgarity of your suggestion, he shook his head with a soft smirk and nudged back against you. “Tease.” he called you once more. “That’s the reason you love me right?”. He pulled you into his side, kissing you softly. “One of many Y/N. One of many.”

#spencer reid #Spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #cm #Spencer reid smut #smut #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid fanfiction

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fandomlit · 4 years

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hotch’s daughter (various!criminal minds x reader)

requested by anon “Hi lovey I loved your thing w/ the team and Rossi’s daughter and was wondering if you could do something like that but w/ Hotch’s daughter and they all try to flirt w/ her (girls included)? Thanks if you do”

summary hotch finally brings his oldest child in to meet the team, which starts a small rivalry for your affections throughout the day. but little did they know...

a/n for sure one of the longer things i’ve written but i promise, the end is worth it ;))

gif cred belongs to @toyboxboy

rossi had been getting his ear talked off by spencer at the doctor’s desk when you walked in. he had been looking for an escape the last fifteen minutes without being too rude to the kid. then, he looked up and found the easy way out.

“hey, mrs. y/n,” he said, leaning away from the doctor to give you a smile. when the rest of the team looked up, they were met with the gorgeous sight of you balancing jack on your hip, your smile graceful and polite and stunning.

“hello, rossi,” you greeted as he walked up to give you a kiss on the cheek. “any chance you can guide me to my dad?”

“of course,” rossi nodded, and you hooked your free arm with his as he started leading you up to hotch’s office while engaging in some small conversation.

“that’s hotch’s daughter?” emily said in partial shock, eyebrows raised.

“i didn’t know hotch had a daughter,” derek scoffed, eyes never leaving you.

they all watched you and rossi walk to your father’s office. you entered without knocking, giving your father a smile as rossi walked to his own office. “she’s incredibly beautiful,” spencer commented.

“that’s an understatement,” derek contributed.

“no doubt,” jj added. emily was still staring at the door with her mouth agape. jj looked over and scanned her friend’s expression. “you okay, emily?”

“i didn’t have enough time to profile her,” emily hummed to herself. “if i had a little more, i’d know if she was gay.” jj chuckled.

“well, let me know if you find out.”

after about thirty minutes of trying to get work done, the team all perked up when hotch’s door opened. he was chuckling at something you were saying, him now holding jack in his arms.

“team, this is my daughter, y/n,” hotch introduced finally. “and you all know jack.” you gave them a wave and a smile. “y/n, this is derek,” the man gave you a charming smirk, “jj,” the blonde smiled politely, “emily,” the girl wasn’t even attempting to hide her checking you out anymore, “and spencer,” the doctor gave you a shy wave.

“it’s lovely to meet you all,” you nodded. “good to know my father’s in good hands.” they chuckled as you gave them another smile. hotch’s phone rang and he sighed, giving you and them a nod before taking off down the hall with jack to a more private place.

“so, y/n,” you looked up to see jj had spoken, “why haven’t we met you yet?”

you gave them all a smile and leaned against an empty desk. “i moved out the second i turned eighteen and went to med school in california.” they gave you impressed looks. “yeah, full ride.” you gave them a wink that they couldn’t help but melt at. “but uh, after that i took an internship in san diego and didn’t move back until a month or two ago when i heard about the divorce.” they nodded with sympathy, but you simply shrugged in response.

“do you have a job up here yet?” derek asked politely.

you nodded. “oh, yeah. im a local m.a., not too far from where my dad lives. i figured it would be nice to be a part of my little brother’s life, you know?” they all nodded.

“how are you liking quantico?” emily asked, still giving you that flirtatious look that made you blush and smile shyly.

“it’s a beautiful town,” you nodded. “admittedly, i haven’t gotten to see too much of it yet, what with work and jack. but there’s plenty of time for that.”

“i’d love to show you around some time, if you’d like,” emily smiled. you blushed again, but before you could answer, hotch came back.

“all introduced?” he asked with a sigh. they all nodded. “great. get back to work.” he lead you back up to his office, where you gave emily a quick glance before shutting the door. the girl was biting her lip with a smile. she looked around to see the team all giving her incredulous looks.

“what? she’s cute.”

later that day, derek found you making two cups of coffee in the break room.

“someone’s got a sweet tooth,” he said, watching you pour a third packet of sugar in one of the mugs.

you giggled, looking up with a smile that he easily returned. “and that someone’s my dad.” he chuckled as you stirred the steaming liquid.

“so what was it like, growing up with aaron hotchner as your dad?” he asked, getting out a mug to make himself a cup.

you shrugged, moving to pour some coffee in his cup without saying a word. he gave you a smile as thanks as you said, “he’s a good dad. little strict with all my high school boyfriends, of course, but otherwise he was comforting and very loving.”

“bet you had a lot of boyfriends in high school,” derek chuckled, taking a sip from his mug.

you gave him a smile. “bet you had a lot of girlfriends, derek.” something about the way you said his name made him feel cocky.

he shrugged. “what can i say?” you laughed with him before going to take your father his coffee.

“emily, right?” prentiss turned around to see you standing behind her desk with a small smile. she gave you a grin and nodded.

“prentiss.”

“emily prentiss,” you tried, walking closer to her. “i like it.”

she gave you a smile, leaning back in her chair as you perched on her desk. “has anyone told you you have very pretty eyes?” she inquired. you flushed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ears. “i’ll be the first to admit, im a little curious of you, y/n.” you tilted your head. “i just think there’s a lot i could get to know about you.”

“well,” you drawled, “you are a profiler.” she let out a small laugh. “profile me, emily.”

she looked you over with a smile. “you wear a ring on your right ring finger. at passing glance, someone may think ‘sure, she’s taken’ but in reality, it’s common in people who are dedicated to their jobs.” you looked down at the small silver band as she continued, “and speaking of your job, i get the sense that you went into the medical profession because of your dad, right?”

“yeah,” you confirmed, still smiling gently. “got sick and tired of seeing him all beat up.”

“so when you felt powerless over that as a child, you wanted to make sure you weren’t powerless when you were an adult,” she concluded. she gave you a look. “good enough?”

“perfect,” you complimented. she was about to propose that date again when your father called you over.

“y/n, can you come watch jack?”

“yeah,” you said, standing from emily’s desk and smoothing out your skirt. “i’ll talk to you later, emily.”

she watched you walk away with a confident smile.

you had been sitting in hotch’s office with the door cracked, holding jack as he slept in your arms. you had a book in one hand and your other supporting your sleeping brother whehn jj had peeked in to give hotch some paperwork. with your father nowhere in sight, she was greeted by that pure sight instead.

“you know,” jj started, walking into the room and grabbing your attention, “they say there’s something to be said about women who are good with children.”

“do they?” you hummed as she placed a stack of papers onto hotch’s desk. she gave you a smile and a nod. “then im sure there’s something to be said about women who are communication liaisons, no?”

“im sure there is,” she hummed as she walked out of the room, leaving you with a smile as you returned to your book.

“i think im gonna ask her out,” derek nodded, sitting on the edge of jj’s desk near the end of the day.

“like hell,” emily scoffed, sauntering over with her arms crossed. “remember when i already did this morning?”

“and did she give you an answer?” derek shot back. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

“maybe we shouldn’t be trying to go for our boss’s daughter at all,” jj proposed. they all considered as penelope came walking up, a file in her hands.

“who? y/n?” the computer tech questioned. they all confirmed. penelope shrugged, “well, it’s too late for that.” they all gave her a questioning look. she simply pointed toward hotch’s office. they all followed her finger.

they watched reid walk up and give you a quick kiss and smile. their jaws dropped as he slid an arm around your waist and you lifted your purse onto your shoulder. you both started down toward the doors, where you would have to pass the team in the process.

“thanks for the warm welcome today, guys,” you said, giving them all smiles. spencer smirked unbearably at your side, absorbing the glares and shocked looks of his coworkers and friends. “i really appreciate it.”

they all nodded and muttered. spencer stopped right after you had walked past them. “oh, here, i forgot something.” he handed you the keys to the car. “you go start the car, i’ll be out in a second.” you nodded and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

spencer turned around and quickly went to his desk, opening a drawer and taking out a small jewelry box, which they saw was fit for a nice necklace. as he walked past the team he said, “night, guys.” they were no longer looking at him. just as he passed them, he turned again, “oh, and one last thing.” they looked up to meet his smirk. “checkmate.”

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 5

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and light smut.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

******

You didn’t grow up with hugs, so you never really understood the big deal about them. Nothing irritated you more than when acquaintances wanted to hug you. Over the years you’d learned to accept it and go with the flow but intimate gestures from people you barely knew made you uncomfortable. The only time you didn’t mind being hugged was by Davina and even then she was careful not to overdo it. But right now, with Billy’s arms locked around you, you pressed up against him, he felt so good, so solid, you never wanted to leave his embrace. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so cherished, and the fact that it was Billy – you didn’t want to think about what that meant.

You wrapped your hands around the back of his shoulders, simply breathing him in.

At first the comfort Billy provided was enough to distract you from what happened today, but then you were suddenly struck by the memory of Adam pointing his gun at you. Thanks to your father’s outbursts you learned a long time ago to stay calm in hostile situations, and that skill came in handy this morning. While Adam spewed hatred at you and accused you of destroying his life, you kept him preoccupied and talking until the cops came up and managed to haul him away. But once the danger subsided, all of that unleashed fear came back with a vengeance and you hadn’t been able to shake it off since then. Shopping, and then Billy’s unexpected arrival, had provided a temporary distraction but it was still lingering in you, threatening to engulf you at any moment.

Your fingers trailed up Billy’s back. One hand cradled the nape of his neck while the other reached up to play with his hair. He was so tall you had to stand on your tip-toes to run your fingers through his silky strands. You dropped a soft kiss on his chest, over his sweater, then on his skin as your lips dragged up to the base of his throat. His hands caressed languidly down your back, and you groaned when he squeezed your ass. Your hips ground into his, needing more from him than he was giving.

Adam’s face flashed through your mind, his sheer hatred of you stamped across his angry features. Your chest felt constricted, like you couldn’t breathe.

Before you could change your mind, you reached up to kiss Billy.

Every thought in your head instantly dissipated.

You’d forgotten what it felt like to have his mouth devour yours, hot and wild and reckless, tongue on tongue, tongue against teeth, nothing about it soft or tender but simple, pure assault on your senses. He didn’t just kiss with his mouth, he kissed with his whole being, every movement of his reverberating throughout your body. Even something innocuous like his fingers fisting your hair heightened your desires, making you more frantic.

Usually he was very much in sync with what you wanted, he could read when you were in the mood for slow and sensuous, or when you wanted to be fucked hard and rough, and he always delivered. But today he seemed to want to take his time even though you kept pushing for more. Charging forward, you trapped him against the wall behind, kissing him ferociously while your hands rushed to the buttons on his jeans. As you tried to undo them your fingers shook violently, frustrating you so badly that you tore your mouth away from his just so you could focus on ripping them off.

“Y/N,” he groaned, panting.

You didn’t look at him, too busy unzipping his jeans.

“Y/N, slow down…”

Your fingers delved beneath his boxers to palm his cock. You missed the feel of him, the touch of him, how slick he felt in your hands when he was hard. Before Billy you never thought cocks were beautiful but his was thick, long and divine, made to give you the most incredible of pleasures. Your mouth and pussy thirsted for him-

Abruptly, Billy grabbed your shoulders and forced you to back off.

Caught up in passion, your brain scrambled to figure out why he was no longer touching you. Breaths labored, you stared up at him, confused, as he pulled up his jeans. Before you could catch your breath he was whirling you around, forcing you against the wall, gripping your wrists tightly over your head. His penetrating eyes bore into you, like he could see right through you or something, and the thought scared you. Leaning forward you tried to kiss him but he angled back, rejecting your attempts.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Just stop. Okay?”

“I thought you wanted this.”

“I do but-”

“Isn’t this why you showed up here?”

“Look, you’re messed up right now.”

“I’m fine!” you snapped, struggling to release your arms from his grip. “I want this, ok? I want you. Let me show you. Let me fuck you.”

He focused on you closely, his eyes dark and stormy, before he finally loosened his grasp. When you moved to cradle his face, he retreated back. Forget kissing you, he didn’t even touch you. Instead, he knelt down to pick up your robe from the ground and cover you with it. That’s when you noticed you were naked. You hadn’t even realized your robe had slipped off.

You were naked and desperately throwing yourself at him and he was purposely rejecting you. It felt like a slap in the face. You were mortified.

Pushing him away you tightened the robe around you and tried to sidestep past him. Except he blocked your path.

You tried again, he did the same.

“What?” You snarled, swallowing the lump in your throat. You were embarrassed as hell but you’d die before telling him that.

He tilted your chin, forcing you meet his stare. In turn, you glared at him.

“Sex isn’t going to make you forget what happened this morning,” he said softly.

“Maybe I just wanted to feel something good.”

“Doesn’t last long. Then you’re stuck feeling shitty again.”

You were tired of his sanctimonious bullshit. He of all people shouldn’t have been lecturing you on using sex as a distraction. “Like you’ve never used me for sex?”

“Fine, yeah, I have. And I don’t want to be used in the same way.”

“You’re such a hypocrite!”

“I don’t want you to regret being with me.”

The intensity in his eyes was spellbinding, piercing you right through to the core. You trembled when he brushed your cheek with his fingers, your heart pounding. Throughout your time together, you’d studied and learned many of his expressions and nuances. The excited bounce in his movements when Anvil booked a new client, the underlying bitterness in his words on those days he’d gone to visit his mother, how dark and glossy his eyes shined when he was about to come. But the way he was watching you now – this was new to you. This was dangerous territory. The last thing you wanted was to get caught up in Billy Russo again.

You wrenched his hand away. “If I have regrets, I wouldn’t bother you with them.” You shrugged your shoulders. “Anyway, I told you yesterday. If we have sex again, I’d see it as closure.”

The shift in his eyes was instant. A second ago there had been warmth in his gaze, now there was only disdain. “So you can move on?”

“Not just me. You too.”

Molten eyes narrowed into slits. “Maybe I don’t want to move on.”

“What does that even mean?”

His jaw was clenched, his mouth set in a hard line. “Why do you have to make this so complicated? Why can’t we just go back to how things were?”

“I threw myself at you five minutes ago and you rejected me! And now you’re telling me you want to keep sleeping together?” You massaged your temples, feeling a headache coming on. “Are you purposely trying to fuck with my head?”

The sound of your phone vibrating loudly against the coffee table drew your attention. You marched over to see who was calling. Spotting Roger’s name, you tensed immediately. Why would he be calling you late at night unless it was to tell you Adam was being released? Your heart started pounding as you picked up the call. “Hey, Roger. What’s up?”

Billy snickered beside you and you cast him a dirty glance, turning away from him.

“How are you holding up? I was worried about you, I wanted to check in.”

You breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t calling with news about Adam. “I’m fine.”

“I received an email from HR. They said you refused an appointment with the therapist?”

“I don’t need to talk to anyone,” you insisted. You’d tried the therapy route years ago and found it to be a waste of time.

“Unfortunately, it’s not optional. You know how it is. Insurance. Liability. All of that. We just need to make sure you’re okay.”

You exhaled a resigned sigh, rubbing the side of your head again. Today was not your day. “Fine. I’ll make an appointment.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He cleared his throat. “And if you need to talk to me, I’m also here.”

“Thank you for the offer but I’m alright.”

“How about we meet for dinner tomorrow? I want to run some ideas by you about the expansion.”

You groaned internally. You had a stack of work you needed to do and you were hoping to catch up on it this weekend, but turning down a work dinner with your boss wasn’t a smart idea. “Sure. Tomorrow night sounds good.”

“Any preferences?”

“How about Piatti’s?”

“You love that place, don’t you?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, it’s one of my faves.”

“I’ll make reservations for 7pm. See you then.”

“Yeah. Thanks for checking in, Roger.” You hung up and put the phone back on the coffee table.

“Yeah, Roger, thanks for checking in.”

Hearing Billy imitating your voice, you turned around to find him balanced against the edge of the sofa arm, his long legs sprawled in front of him. Arms crossed, he was staring at you with a stern expression. “Isn’t that sweet? First his negligence almost gets you killed, and then he checks in to play the hero.”

You frowned at him. If he was anyone else, you would have thought they were jealous – but you knew Billy didn’t feel that way about you.

His lips twisted into a sneer. “And of course you eat it all up. Because he’s such a fucking sweetheart.”

“What is your problem with him? He’s a nice guy, and he was actually really great with me today.”

“I bet.” Billy’s voice was laced with hostility. “Nice. Sweet. He’s checking of all the right boxes, isn’t he? But can loverboy get you wet? Would he even know how to make you come?”

You finally snapped. “Are you jealous or something?”

Silence hung in the air as he simply stared at you, his jaw ticking. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not my fucking girlfriend.”

His words may have hurt, but they also served as a cruel reminder of why you needed to walk away. “That’s right. I’m not. So this thing you’re doing…” You wagged you index finger back and forth between you and Billy. “This interrogation stops now. I don’t answer to you. Who I’m seeing, who I’m fucking, who I’m interested in, it’s none of your business. So stay out of my life and I’ll stay out of yours.”

He stood up to his full height, probably trying to intimidate you. However you held firm, leveling him with a heated glare as he closed the distance between you. His eyes were cold, contempt etched on his face. “Bring the vibrator on your date night with Roger. Probably only way he can get you off.”

“Fuck you, Billy!”

“Not interested, sweetheart,” he snarked back, walking past you.

When you heard the door shut a few seconds later, you walked over to lock it.

You spent the rest of the evening trying to distract yourself from the warring thoughts in your head. When it wasn’t Adam’s face haunting you, it was Billy mocking you. You tried watching a movie but that did nothing. You attempted working next, but you couldn’t focus. Eventually you realized there was only one thing you could do to lessen the fear. You needed to get ahead of it. Adam may have been angry and unhinged, but he came from a powerful family. Even if he couldn’t be controlled, they could be. So you did what you always did to protect yourself. You started acquiring information you could use as leverage against your enemies.

Part 6

A/N - Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the likes, reblogs, comments, feedback and the asks. I’m so grateful to have wonderful readers like you. As always, if you have the time, I’d love to read your thoughts on this chapter.

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, please let me know. A few people have asked to be tagged, but for whatever reason, Tumblr wouldn’t let me. I still have you on the list, though you may not receive notifications.

Tag List

@yourfavoritefruitybitch @voyevoda-thejoy @adreamemporium @queenmalhinewahine @gubleryum @galaxyjane @xceafh @maralisa124 @tomhollandisabae @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lil-baby-nor @all-art-is-quite-useless @tanyaherondale @nashibirne @dour-trash @thetallassgirl @athenamikaelson @agent-jbarnes @primadonnasdream @aleksanderwh0r3 @elisemockingbird @nihilismworld @archisur @nemesis729 @lysawayne @kaqua @ladyblablabla @lemasonda @advictedtohim @24-martie @tarkanelima-blog @shinebrightlikeafanbase @krystal-clear1 @damalseer @dontjinx-it @darkishx @wanderlusting-about-life @thatguppienamedbae @happypepperdog @bat-revival @sassygirl25 @consulting--heroes @the-celestial-kitsune @mackaywhore @ablxssm @competitive-dust @red-head011 @exo-1204 @sunsetenigma @millieb-3199 @chatnain @licensedcheek @tinkertailor1212 @vertesalope @safetyhtom @acourtofglassandroses @eliwinchester-barnes @finnismyoriginalsin @weallhaveadestiny

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #billy russo imagine #the punisher #my fics

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lustbile-archive · 3 years

Text

In The Cards

HaechanxReader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary/Warning: Smut. Best friend Haechan wants you to read his tarot :( warning! very beginner tarot knowledge. all card interpretations found on the app golden tarot

Request: can i request a bestfriend-to-lovers hyuck where he and the reader share their first time together?

This is the third installment of my week of halloween fics. Info about possible blurb night here

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“Haechan seriously,” you finally turn to face him as you lay side by side on your bed, the pout and puppy eyes he wears on his face the exact thing you had feared to see as you knew he had his ways of convincing you no matter what, “you’re asking me to do a reading on your love life.”

“And how is that weird?” his voice pitches as he turns to mirror you, now with you both on your sides and your phones tucked under your respective pillows you have no choice but to stare into his warm eyes. His body is dramatically lax as he relaxes into the mattress, already ready to toss his body around obnoxiously if you decide to deny him again.

“You’re my best friend dude, it would be weird to see what the cards say about your possible romantic activities,” you were somewhat telling the truth. Yes, you thought it would be kind of weird to see what your cards had to say about his love life, the idea being weirdly intimate for you, but you also knew that there was a small part of you, an evil yet insecure little gremlin that had made a home in your heart a few months before, that would take whatever they say directly to heart. You never anticipated forming romantic feelings for the boy in front of you, actually when you and Haechan had first started getting close you stubbornly denied that something like that happening was possible, yet here you were stupidly infatuated with the boy who lays in your bed wrapped warmly in a worn hoodie with your heart trapped between his teeth, “that and I’m not even that good at doing readings yet.”

“An even better reason to do it,” he sits up with a jolt of energy making you return to your place on your back to watch him, “so even if you do my reading, like you said you’re not that experienced so we won’t take what they say to heart right? It can just be for fun.”

Your eyes squint in disbelief as you try to read the look on his face. Regardless of his words, you know it wouldn’t just be for fun. Haechan had made it kind of obvious on the few occasions that tarot readings, and things related to things of that nature, were brought up, that he truly did believe it. Haechan had a whimsy about him, a belief and willingness to believe in things outside of himself, things he couldn’t really explain, and usually you’d find it incredibly endearing, but now it just helped in raising your stress levels.

“Come on dude,” his head tilts back and his face scrunches as he tries to convince you, his determination unfortunately making a smile start to pull onto your lips, “I’m bored and the ambiance is way too sexy right now for us to not do some witchy shit.”

Again, like always, he was unfortunately right. It was late into the night, nearing 3 am, and a storm raged loudly outside. The storm being the exact thing that had locked Haechan in your room to begin with as it had knocked your power out an hour or so before the time he was meant to leave, so he had decided to stay instead. He had claimed it was because he didn’t want to bother with traveling in the storm, but you could easily pick out the softness behind his eyes when you casually mentioned not wanting to be alone in the dark.

Along with the steady storm, you had also gathered your collection of candles and scattered them lit around the room, that and the quiet sounds of Florence + The Machine and Fleetwood Mac playing from the small speakers connected to your phone only supported Haechan’s argument. You two had perfectly crafted the perfect atmosphere to ask questions to some other force, and you can’t help but kick yourself for putting yourself in such a position.

“Okay fine,” you finally respond hesitantly, a grimace on your face and you move to sit up as well. You hate the way your chest tightens at his reaction to your words, an excited jump bouncing him in the air as he leans over to the table you keep to the side of your bed. The idea that he just knows exactly where you keep your things dances tauntingly in your mind and you angrily push it down as you move to sit facing him with your legs crossed underneath you.

“Found ‘em,” he whispers as he rifles through the drawer, a quiet triumphant noise squeaking from his chest as he moves to sit back in front of you, mirroring the way you sit with a smug grin on his face.

“Shuffle them a couple times for me,” you say, motioning to the deck in his hands, and he does so immediately. His fingers work slowly and gently, the fear of damaging the deck floating around his form. He splits it a few times, shuffling them together in a neat stack before he hands them to you like a devious cat happily offering their owner a dead mouse, and you smile softly at his consideration for your things.

“I’m only gonna do a three card pull okay? Past, present, and future okay?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s cool,” he nods excitedly as he shifts around where he sits, his anticipation slowly gaining on him, “I’m cool with whatever.”

“Okay give me a question to ask while I shuffle,” you command, your hands holding the deck as you get ready to shuffle, “it can be as detailed or vague as you want, the cards should understand what we're asking.”

“I just wanna know…’’ he hesitates for a moment, his lips caught between his lips as he thinks, “love life I-.... hm… I guess I want to ask it to show me the path my love life will take.”

You only nod in response before your eyes fall closed. Your heart beat picks up and your hands shake slightly in your nervousness, but regardless you begin to repeat the question in your mind as your hands begin to move. ‘Show me the path of Donghyuck’s love life’ you speak to your cards as they dance between your fingers, your hands much more rough than Haechan’s.

His breathing is almost deafening as it's the only human sound that hits you as you work, and you hear it catch when your hands stop moving.

Your eyes open again, and with a deep breath you lean forward to spread the cards out in front of him in the shape of a fan, “pick three and put them in my hand,” you command again with your hand held out flat, “whichever three speak to you.”

“Okay,” he whispers, his fingers moving to hover over the cards and the way he holds himself he looks as if you’ve just asked him to take a standardized test. He jolts slightly before grabbing the card below his hand, and it's quickly placed on your palm. His reaction when picking the other two are not much different, and after a minute or two you have all three cards and you’re gently collecting and setting the remaining cards to the side.

“Okay,” you start as you shift to get in a more comfortable position, “we’ll start with past.”

He nods as you move to lay down the first card you were handed, the card revealing itself to be The Lovers, their naked bodies and the angel that lives behind them almost taunting you and making you tongue stick dryly to the roof of your mouth.

“Okay..” you trail off as you glance at the boy in front of you, his eyes going slightly wild at the sight of the card in front of him, “now present.”

Wanting to get out of the situation as quickly as possible, you lay the next card down, and before you now lay the two of cups. Another pairing of people to stare as you squirm.

“Finally,” you huff moving to lay down the last card, “future.”

With a soft thud, you place the card down, the naked woman that floats in the center of The World card is impossible to ignore. Haechan hums quietly in consideration, his head bobbing slightly as his eyes move across the spread before him. He looks pensive for a moment when he looks up at you, until a playful grin takes over his features.

“What does any of this mean?” he asks with a laugh.

“Well,” you start moving to grab the book you keep next to your pillow that hold the different descriptions of the cards, scolding yourself for still not having them memorized, “none of them are reversed so that that as a good sign, and none of them are The Tower so you’re not doomed to die alone I suppose.”

He laughs again as he watches you flip through the book, your eyebrows knitted together as you search for the first card.

“Okay so, your past is The lovers,” you start, one hand resting on top of the card as your eyes shift around the page, “it represents partnership, union, duality, and choice. This says it means a union of harmony, full of trust, confidence and strength, This relationship both a physical attraction and a deep emotional bond between them.”

You stutter slightly as you read, your eyes darting up to gage his reaction once the words leave your mouth, his face is soft but serious as he thinks, and you can’t help but get overwhelmed by the look.

“Okay, and then present,” you hand shifts to the Two of Cups while your other hand flips to the correct page, “this card means unity, partnership and two become one…” you trail off slightly, hoping Haechan only assumes it’s from you trying to read the page and not for the real reason that is the words in front of you makes you heart beat harshly against your chest, “signaling a union and partnership of balance, honor, and respect, The ancient symbol of the caduceus also suggests energy, passion, and sex, and the intermingling of opposite forces.”

“Oh,” he responds involuntarily as he absorbs the words you speak, and you can only wish that you could crawl into his mind and see exactly what he’s thinking.

“Okay and lastly, your future,” you shift again, your previous position suddenly not feeling comfortable anymore, “The World card represents fulfillment, harmony, and completion. It says, absolute unity, perfection, accomplishment that draws from inner and outer sources. This card signals the harmony of the inner and outer worlds, and reaching a level of enlightenment. An era of one's life is complete and there is joy and celebration that is coming to welcome it.”

With a soft smacking noise, you shut the book and place it back to its spot next to your pillow. Your words still linger in the air with a tension wrapped around them, and in your desperation to avoid Haechan’s eyes you begin to return the cards to the deck, a silent thank you being spoken in your mind as you thank them for their knowledge.

“So what do you think about that?” he asks, his voice softer than earlier, the tone making your eyes dart up to try and read the emotion on his face.

“It’s not about what I think Hyuck…” you place the hair tie that lives on your wrist around the deck to secure it and place it on top of the book, and when your done you lean back onto the palms of your hands to survey his body language while also creating more distance between you, “it was your reading so it’s your interpretation, what did that tell you?”

The words come out like you’re trying to cough up years worth of chewed gum and the way they clog your throat makes you feel weird. It may be up to his interpretation, but you can’t stop the way the cards and their meanings make you feel as they wrap a confusing combination of hope and terror around your fragile heart.

“I think,” he starts as he once again moves to mirror the way you sit, a soft but unsure smile on his face, “they told me exactly what I needed to hear.”

“And what was that Hyuck?”

“Well you know, the whole emphasis on partnership, and union, and choices. If anything i’m starting to think your cards like me a little bit cause they kind of told me exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“And what was it you wanted to hear Haechan?” you ask, his smugness and confidence making you laugh quietly.

“That I’m not putting my hope or my heart in the wrong place. I think it’s saying that I’m right in wanting the thing I want so badly.”

“Jeez Donghyuck,” you huff as you fall to lay back onto your side, a giddy feeling flooding you as he once again follows suit, “you speak in more riddles than the cards do.”

“Oh do you want me to tell you straight forward what those cards just told me?” he asks rhetorically as he lays close enough for his face to crowd you personal space, his breath occasionally hitting your skin.

“Well yeah, lay it on me Hyuck, what did those cards encourage you to do?”

“I’ll fucking lay it on you alright,” he doesn’t even give you the time to form the question in your mind of what he could possibly mean before he’s on the move. He’s on you before you can blink, his body pushing you onto your back and his hands landing against your bed next to your head and caging you in. Your body reacts before your mind does, and your hands are gripping his wrists and you legs are falling to the side to allow him to rest between your thighs, as he knocks the air from your lungs with his mouth pressing against yours.

You both let out matching hums in content at the feeling of each other’s lips. You’d call yourself a liar if you said you had never imagined what it would be like to kiss the boy that now rests on top of you, but no matter how many hours you had logged dreaming about the very moment, none of it prepared you for now.

He rests his body flush against yours as his lips work against yours, and there’s only a beat of time before his tongue is brushing against your bottom lip, begging for entrance.

You break away, the idea of him feeling the same way as you filling you with childish excitement and confidence, so much that you can’t stop yourself before you’re teasing, “so my cards told you to attack me?”

“Hush,” he pecks against your lips once before speaking again, “they told me I was completely in the right for being in love with my best friend, and that making a move would only end in happiness.”

“You’re in love with me?” you ask, those being the only words that stick in your mind, Your hands tighten around his wrists, and the skin of his face flushes in realization of what he said.

“Uh… yes,” his eyes are filled with his nerves as they lock onto yours. The internal debate he has with himself of wanting to tear his eyes away while being completely unable to is transparent and puts you at ease at the idea that he’s just as nervous as you, “I’m sorry if that’s really abrupt, but I really am.”

“Donghyuck,” you whisper, leaning up to nudge the tip of your nose against his, “I’m in love with you too.”

“Thank fuck,” he swears louder than intended, and you giggles of happiness is smothered by his lips latching to yours again.

There’s no asking this time as his tongue shoves its way into your mouth, and you let out a pleased groan when the moment he licks at the back of your teeth, his hips shift down and he begins to softly grind against the crotch of the thin fabric of your pajama shorts.

“Tell me,” he speaks between open-mouthed kisses that he places across you mouth and up your jaw, his words doing their own licking against the shell of your ear, “tell me if you want to stop, cause I don’t think I can.”

“I trust you Hyuck,” you whisper during the fleeting second that your mouth is free, “do whatever you want, I’m so in love with you.”

He groans loudly at the string of words that leave you, the noise cutting through and disrupting the smooth voice of Stevie Nicks and his body returns to rocking gently against yours.

Your hands trail away from his wrists, moving up his forearms and up until your fingers tangle in his hair. The slight tugging you give to his roots pulls another groan from his mouth, and the sparks of pleasure that hits your lower stomach at the sound combined with his hardening length pressing against you through the thick fabric of his sweatpants makes you feel like you could live in this moment forever.

You can feel your growing arousal spilling from you, the wetness making the fabric of your underwear stick to your skin, and at the feeling of him suddenly bumping gently against your clit makes you squeak as you hips begin meeting his thrusts with their own.

“Please,” you whimper out when his mouth latches onto the skin stretched over your jugular, “want it. Need you.”

“I’m gonna keep you up all night,” he growls the promise against your neck, “I have so much time to make up for.”

He sits up, a smile of pride on his face when you huff at the loss of him. You only get a few sounds of discontent out before his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your shorts, and shoving them down your legs, your ruined underwear following. The fabric is tossed behind his shoulder, and in his impatience, his hands are rough as they grab at your thighs. He pulls you, bringing you down the bed to be closer to him, before he’s pushing his own pants down to bunch at his hips, his tip brushing against you and making you jump as he slaps against his stomach.

You squirm as he returns to his place flush against you, both at the sudden feeling of the room’s air hitting your damp skin and the way his length glides against you. You can feel your arousal smearing against him, and in your desperation, you’re grabbing his face and pulling back down to meet your lips again.

Laying there, pressed as tightly together as you can be with your mouths devouring the other’s, you feel him reach between your bodies. His fingers only take a moment to dip into you, gathering your wetness on his fingers, before he’s using it to coat his length more than it already is.

He pulls at himself a few times, the moans he lets out at the friction being swallowed by you, before he’s pressing into you without warning.

The stretch and the idea of your best friend being the one that is so suddenly fucking into you has you reeling. You feel overtaken by the feeling of whiplash, and as he pushes into you inch by inch, you let out a moan that lived deep in your belly.

He pauses when he’s fully inside of you, the depth that he reaches as the girth of him making your eyes begin to roll wildly and before you can catch your breath his hips are retreating.

His pace is rough. He’s slow, and he doesn’t pull but a few inches out, but every time he returns to your body, it's a harsh thrust that knocks the air from your lungs.

It’s not long before you feel overwhelmed, the way the cozy heat from the candles and the thick fabric of his clothes as they brush against you licks at your skin and sinks you into the mattress. His mouth refuses to separate from yours, and his thrusts are consistent and unrelenting.

You’re sure you’ve never felt more held in your life as your wrapped up with your best friend, one of his hands moving to hold the side of your face while the other travels down to play with the sensitive nerves of your clit. The gentle way his hands move against you contrasted by the rough way he fucks into you has you clinging desperately to his hoodie as warm tears well up in your eyes.

One of your hands moves down as you get closer, your nails digging into the fabric that covers his ass as you desperately try to pull him closer than he already was. This and the way your hips start bucking against him makes him groan as you two get tangled in your sheets.

You feel the tingling warning of your orgasm running up your spine, a crackling moan feeding into his mouth from yours and the way you softly clench around him being his only warning before you come with a cry.

His hips stutter as he follows quickly behind, a very similar sound of bliss slipping from his mouth as you two begin to shake against each other.

You feel like you’ve been sewn into his skin as you twitch together with aftershocks, him equally as unwilling to separate his body from yours. Once he pulls his hand from between your bodies, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he pulls you tightly into his chest as he lays his full weight on you, and you legs wrap around him as you refuse to let him slip out of you.

“We’re going again in a minute,” his voice rasps as he presses his face into your shoulder, his nose nuzzling against the skin.

“Really?” You ask with a laugh as your hands return to their job of running through his hair.

“Yes I just need a minute,” he promises, and you shiver as his hips start to shift already without him even thinking, “it’s what your cards would have wanted.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #nct imagine #haechan imagines #kpop smut

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Text

@midoriyaprofessionalslut

I can't even begin to describe the ask I received so I'm just going to leave screenshots😅😅

Also in the new mha season, I thought Tsu was being petty when she called Mineta Grape-Juice and Shoji Tentacle. But nope, those are their hero names.

Side note: I feel like when Mineta gets old and knows how to work his quirk better, he'll be able to control if they stick or not.

Slight racism, usual smut.

NOT PROOF READ SO LET ME KNOW IF U SEE SOMETHING

If you imagine Mineta as in the picture above and with a mature voice, this is more enjoyable. Or you can imagine someone else entirely.. Cause even as someone who's tolerant to Mineta I can't imagine him getting any hoes much less smashing (at least not on top). It would be like watching a chiwawa top a mastiff.

"This is some bullshit." You shuffle through various papers on your desk, each containing the receipts of Pro-Hero Grapejuice's celebratory purchases. Most of it was random appliances that could in no way be used on a day-to-day basis, but there were others….a shiver goes down your spine, there were others that were just downright perverted. "What even is a nub tickler?"

Being an accountant was something you were good at, the numbers came easy and it was interesting to see the income and ways of business that different people in power displayed. Planning meetings and getting the occasional phone call made everything a breeze, but it wasn't what you wanted to do. Or in better words, this was not whom you wanted to work for. Even being number 6 causes the workload to be higher than should be physically possible in the hero world. That's one of the reasons you never gave praise to the rankings because no matter how low in the chain, a hero’s work is always taxing.

Shifting in your seat you look at the analog clock on your desk. 3:45, you were supposed to come to work at 5:30 which means you once again have no time to sleep. Having these late nights had increased 10 fold whenever Mineta went up in rank even by a little. His way of celebrating was spending his money carelessly and leaving you to fix the balance. Though you supposed it may be your fault for never objecting when he barged in your office showing his trinkets as well as leaving his credit card.

"Yeah, it's time to go." You muttered as you read the words, "Dwarf Cow in the left lot of Wisconsin."

The next hour, you take a detour from your office for the first time in months. Heading down the hall you watch the walls go from the pale greys to deep purple and violet splotches splattered along the wall before it inevitably melds into solid purple walls as you get closer to the front door of his office.

Hesitantly you knock on the door and wait until a muffled "Come in." Rings through the thick wood. The room itself was just as flamboyant as the walls leading to it. A beautiful fuchsia carpet on the floor made you realize that calling in your two weeks would have been better than walking into the Willy-Wonka factory that was this office. Various spherical decorations hung from the chandelier, and even something as simple as the legs of his desk was made up of crystal spheres.

The man himself sat perfectly balanced on a large purple ball most likely of his own creation, meanwhile, various children sat around him slipping and sliding on smaller balls in an attempt to copy him. "Ah, here is my beautiful assistant!" The compliment made you cringe as you fiddled with the end of the sleep-wrinkled white blouse you had worn for 2 days straight. "Can we talk sir? It is important." Mineta raised an eyebrow at your formal speech before shrugging.

In an extravagant display of balance, Mineta does a handstand on the ball with one hand before flipping to the other side. "Well kids it's time for me to get done as a hero’s job is never over and blah blah blah the gift shop is giving out free plushies and you can keep your ball." The teacher does her best to usher out her students and the sound of childish screams resound down the hallway even though the door was shut. "How can I help you Y/n?" Mineta offers you his ball to sit on and you reluctantly take the offer as you grate in multiple directions in order to stay afloat.

Mineta watches you with hidden interest as he interlocks his hands underneath his chin. "I didn't know you even knew my name?" Mineta Laughs exposing his annoyingly perfect teeth. It was hard to associate this face to the pictures you see when you search for his early years. "Of course I know your name, I stole your nameplate off your desk 2 months ago." Ah, so that's where it went "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

You sighed, "I would like to put in my two weeks." Mineta goes slack-jawed before composing himself "Why?" Mineta looked at you earnestly, completely confused on why you'd want to abandon your post as his secretary- I mean assistant. "Working for you has become a hassle with your lack of financial maturity." Mineta mock shivers, "Oo big words, me no likey." Mineta hops onto his desk as if he weighed nothing more than paper and squats in front of you, "How about this, you don't quit and instead help me learn how to...how did you say it? Be financially mature." You lean back in your chair unconvinced that he was taking this seriously.

With the final nail ready to be hit, Mineta adds, "How about I give you a raise of 10 percent and a promotion?" You stand up in your chair with an eager grin, "That sounds great!" Mineta smirks to himself but you did not pay any mind to it. "Great, how about we discuss this over food, dinner date?" Your internal celebration screeches to a halt, " Dinner Date-" Mineta looks at you shocked, "Dinner date? Great idea, why didn't I think of it myself!?" A firm hand slides you towards the door as Mineta starts a complimentary speech giving you no room to object, "This is why I need you, you're so smart, I wish I was like you, tomorrow at 11?" You sputter trying to slip past his arms, "11 but I-?!" Mineta loudly gasps again, "There you go doing it again I'm so lucky to have you, tomorrow at 11 my treat!"

The door is shut in your face and the sound of the lock clicking seals your fate. What did you get into?

Cut to 4 years later and you are still not sure of that answer. Simply being bis accountant you had a glimpse of his perverted tendencies, but as his girlfriend, it was further exposed to depths you never could have found yourself imagining. You shuffle papers in the printing room as you do your best to ignore the faint tingling sensation in between your legs. Yet another whim you found yourself following on Mineta’s behalf despite the ever-present fear of being caught. The vibrator comes to life before going back down as quickly as it came. You toss a middle finger to the camera in the top corner of the room knowing he was watching.

"Miss L/n, can I ask you something?" You slap your arm down to your side in embarrassment. I hope he didn't see that. Your coworker walks up to you holding a small stack of papers. "Yes, how can I help you?" The man shows you various forms as he talks, for once you were thankful for Mineta not embarrassing you in front of others. "Oh I see where you went wrong, this right here would be a 20% increase, not 18%." The man applauded you and graciously wrote down your explanation. "Thank you so much, my name is Kaminari by the way."

"Ah hello, Kaminari, and no worries I'm always glad to help!" You turn back as your papers finally scan through but can't help notice Kaminari lingering. "Say Y/n?" You open your mouth to respond only to close it again as the vibratory comes back to life strongly. "Hmmm?!" Kaminari peers at you, your reaction was strange but he couldn't figure out why. "Um, never mind, have a nice day Miss. Y/n, maybe we can get together over coffee or something?” You shrug turning away from Kaminari in fear of your eyes rolling up. The man sways from foot to foot awkwardly before leaving the printing room.

Snapping out of your personal flashback, you look over at your fiance signing autographs for his adoring and objectively feminine fan base. While it was extremely unnerving how unknowingly close they were to your home, you weren't resentful of their gushing.

Your engagement and your overall relationship had not been made public in fear of your personal life being exploited by paparazzi. That doesn't mean, however, the next thing you witness doesn't get your blood boiling.

A girl, no older than maybe 22 waltzes up to Mineta with the confidence of Muhammad Ali in a ring match. Her raven black hair fell flawlessly down her back with not a single split end. Almond eyes decorated with precise coal blink rapidly to draw attention to her seemingly natural eyelashes. With 4 inch wedges. a black halter top, and cuffed jean shorts, it was clear she was someone on a mission. She effortlessly pushes past the nearby fans as they stop to quack at her rivaling beauty. A smirk draws itself with her soft pink lips as she hears people muttering around and about her.

"Wow she's so pretty"

"They would look good together just look at them."

"Ugh, such an attention whore, not giving the rest of us a chance!"

"I bet a 20 she's his type."

"Is she famous?"

The chatter comes to a close as the girl hands Mineta a notebook, "Can you sign right here?" Mineta flips open the book and his eyes widen a fraction before he puts on his heroic voice, "Wow it looks like you got all of Japan's heroes in this book!" The girl smiles as she watches Mineta scratch his signature, "Don't be afraid to leave your number in there too Mr. Minoru." Mineta pauses at the statement for continuing his elaborate handwriting, "I don't think that would be very plus ultra of me so I'm gonna have to pass." Smug pride fills your chest as you watch the annoyance cross the girl's face.

Mineta finishes signing and hands her back her book, she, in turn, forces a small piece of paper in his hand before holding his chin and kissing him. At that moment nothing else mattered but beating that bitches ass as you yanked her black hair and dragged her to the ground. "This ain’t Wattpad bitch get your hands off of him!!" You turn to Mineta making him flinch with a sharp glare as you yank her hair again, hopefully pulling a few strands out. "You just gonna let her kiss you and not do anything!?" Mineta stretched his hands towards you cautiously, "Y/n calm down, if you would have given me a chance I would have settled it-" "No, settle it now!"

Your rage is diminished by the judgmental looks coming from the fans and you realize your brazen display was out of order.

"Who is she"

"I think she's the secretary l, so why is she so mad"

"Delusional just cause you're with him all the time doesn't mean you're together"

"I hope he fires her."

"This is why we shouldn't let them in Japan"

The girl whose hair you have in a chokehold stands up unbalanced before pushing your hands from her hair. Satisfied at the disheveled look of her previously perfect strands, you turn to walk back to Mineta, your anger having been sated, "Black Bitch." You turn around and go charging towards the girl again grinning when she flinches. Your rampage is stopped as Mineta wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, "Sorry for the disturbance, we deeply apologize!"

It's almost comical how your mouth spews vulgarity that would make a sailor blush as Mineta drags you behind your apartment building. He ushers you through the back door leading to the washroom, "I can't believe she'd do that in front of me, and you let her!" Mineta shuts the door quietly, leaning his ear against it to listen out for any lingering fans. You sit on top of a washer still ranting as your blood cools down. "The nerve of some of these people is outrageous, even if she doesn't know about us that is still sexual harassment!"

Mineta doesn't look at you and instead peeks through the blinds lining the washroom windows. "I think they are gone, come on." The two of you sneak out the door and walk at a moderate speed all the way back to your front door. In hindsight, you knew that causing a scene like that was a bold move on your part. If anyone was recording the whole ordeal you knew Mineta’s name and possibly yours would be in the headlines by later this evening.

As the last one entering, you lock the door behind you, forehead scrunched together with apprehension. "Mineta I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I just saw her touching you and saw red." You face away from the door with an earnest look on your face. Mineta has a cheeky look on his face that can only mean trouble. Despite your similar slim build and height, Mineta easily corners you against the door. "I know exactly what got into you." Mineta’s pointer finger taps your nose. "Jealousy."

You sighed, putting your head down nodding, "Yeah, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just-" "shhh." Mineta lips your head back up with a hand under your chin. "It's fine Y/n. It's not like I expected a perfect little cocksleeve like you to be okay with sharing." You stare blinkingly at Mineta. 'Oh, he's in one of those moods huh?' As expected from such a fiend like Mineta, he was quite possibly hard the whole time he was watching you beat that girl's ass, and for some reason that irked you even more. “Mineta I’m being serious.” The words leaving your mouth did not phase Mineta, he holds your hips and pulls you close to him in order for you to feel his bulge.

“Oh come on, after seeing you be so possessive for me, how can you not expect me to be a lil turned on?” Mineta’s hands circle your ass before slapping it, “Made me feel special.” Rolling your eyes you lean into the lingering kisses he begins to leave on your shoulder. His grip tightens as he shuffles you to the nearest surface. “Makes me feel all giddy inside to know that you do this only for me and no one else.” Minoru unbuttons your dress pants and removes your belt, “But doing that in front of all those people was stupid.” A shiver travels up your arms from the feeling of lips caressing your ear. Mineta dips his hand into your cotton panties and immediately draws attention to your clit.

“Look at me, Mineta Minoru with a girl like you that would fight for me. Who would have thought?” You ball your fists on the table, hanging your head low. “You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?” Mineta slips his other hand beneath your blouse to cup your breasts. Short l rub down your slit collecting your slick. The feeling was warm and buzzing just underneath your skin, the bastard was well trained on how to slowly but surely bring your pleasure to its peak and hold you there. Your muscles begin to feel more and more like jelly, you sigh “Oh God..” Mineta pushed his body further on yours, rutting against your body. Up until now, his other hand was simply resting on your skin but once impatience overcame him, he used it to pull down your pants.

“You know this will be in articles tomorrow right?” Two fingers curl inside of you making you squeal, “Y-Yes!” Something hard and slick smacks against your bare ass as Mineta removes the bottom half of his hero costume. “So how are you going to compensate me for what I’ll have to deal with tomorrow?” You turn your head to the back with a small pout on your face, “She shouldn’t have touched you.” Mineta coyly smiles before pressing your head down against the table. “You should have let me handle it.”

Mineta was an average of 5 inches in length with conservative girth. But so far he’s been the only man that really added proof that size doesn’t matter. Mineta pulls away from you and leans down to riffle through his pants. You hear a crisp pop of a cap being opened and a slick splatter is heard afterward. A shaky breath leaves Mineta’s lips as he lubes his cock up. Penetrating is a struggle at first, the longer it takes for him to push it in the more both of you become frustrated until he finally pulls your waist back against himself. “S-So good!” The pleasure causes his childhood lisp to slip through as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch.

You shift your feet when Mineta refrains from moving. "Tsk, you really don't understand the meaning of patience do you?" Your hands suddenly become cool to the touch as Mineta covers them with medium sized spheres temporarily gluing you to the table. "Mineta this isn't fair! Please just a little bit to the left!" Now having you helpless Mineta puts one hand on your back while stroking the base of his cock. "It's not about being fair, it is about teaching a sneaky brat like you to know their place." Mineta begins to move but it's not right, he needs to go more to the left, "Mineta what are you even talking about!?!"

A sigh leaves Mineta's lips, "Don't think I forgot about that slick shit you tried to pull with Kaminari." Mineta watches your ad shake and bounce everytime your hips meet. Your arms twitch and pull at themselves wanting to find purchase on the flat surface. Groans leave your lips as Mineta comes closer to hitting your spot, "Slick shit?! Y-You're the one that wanted to do that stupid little piano in the first place!" You couldn't see it but Mineta had a deep seated glare on his face. He loops his fingers underneath his yellow scarf and rolls it around long ways.

"I'm really tierd of your mouth. What you think because I let you beat that girl out their I'll let you beat me?" The middle of the scarf is put in your mouth and your head is pulled back by it. Mineta holds both ends of the scarf to slam into your cunt. "Just a greedy little bitch aren't you?" You scream into the cloth as Minetas cock finally hits your spot just right. The constant pulling on the corner of your mouth burned everytime the fabric rubbed against the sensitive flesh. Your feet rise to your toes in a fruitless attempt at getting a break from the pleasure. Mineta holds his scarf in one hand and pushes down your waist. "Didnt you want this? Don't run from it now."

Your pussy squelched around his cock the faster he went making you go cross eyed. "Fuck you feel so damn good. The table rattled and scraped across the floor with every thrust. "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your nails scraped the table as you closed your fist, had you had claws it would have been a whole different story. You beared down on his cock, trying, begging to feel more inside of your walls as he moved faster. Suddenly your argument fel worth it.

Mineta knew many things about himself. He knew his birthday, he knew where he was in life, and he knew he had come 6 minutes ago and was bordering hysteria as he pumped his overestimated cock into your wet heat. Each drag made years collect in his eyes. Tiny whimpers left his lips and his hands squeezed your sides harder and hard. "So fucking warm. Squeezing down on my dick like that."

He bowed his head and rested on your back, kissing the sweaty skin as he pushed through the painful pleasure. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mineta slaps your ass before pulling out and shoving his fingers inside your pussy. "Cum for me, Y/n. That's it cum on my hands." Mineta's fingers were the only thing that never really grew on him. They were relatively short but thick so even three of them were able to stretch your hole the way you needed.

"Y-Yes, right there shit!" Your cum drips down his arm soiling the fabric there as you squint around him, "That's it give it to me." Mineta buried his face in your pussy licking you clean like a man starved. It wasn't until you whined did he stop and pull his fingers out.

Luckily for you, his spheres were just about coming close to their time constraint. You stand up rubbing your wrists and drinking some water Mineta brings you. A snort captures your attention and Mineta holds up his phone, "Not even an hour." Writing in thick bold words read.

"Obsessive Secretary Snaps on Camera!"

You snort, "I'm the obsessive one huh?" It was going to be a long day tomorrow

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meat--grindr · 3 years

Note

I can request a story of Yandere Brahms with his reader, where Brahms kidnaps the reader by taking her inside the walls of the Mansion to be loved and protected. How did you come to this situation, maybe you can have a little NFSW?

Ahh, Brahms. How I love him so. I just wanted to let you know before we get into anything too serious, that this might be a little different than you were expecting, and for that I’m going to apologize right off the bat. I’ll admit I’m a massive weeb, but I never really saw the appeal of yanderes. Cringe, I know. So, I’m going to do my best here and take yandere more as ‘possessive’ if that’s alright? Also, I took some liberties with ‘kidnapping’ as you’ll see, just because I don’t want to walk too far into non-consensual territory when there’s NSFW involved. I don’t want to write anything explicitly non-consensual here, so it was a fine line to walk, but I think I found an okay solution. If this isn’t at all what you’re looking for, maybe drop me a PM and we can try to work something out? Anyway have like 5000-ish words of Brahms smut :)

Possessive (Yandere [?] Brahms (Female Reader) – NSFW

· Standing at the foot of the stairs, you are struck, though certainly not for the first time, by the beauty of the house in which you find yourself. The golden hue of the wood which panels the walls reflect and amplify the soft glow emanating from beneath frosted glass lampshades. The diffused amber glow is cast about the room, throwing elongated shadows against the walls and into the far corners. From your place at the very bottom of the stairwell, the ceiling, now several floors above you, is lost to the early darkness of a winter evening.

· Through the window, you can see the first soft flakes of snow drifting through the air. But here, inside, with your back braced against the newel post, you are warm. Tipping your head back, you gaze up into the yawning void above and cast your mind into it, losing yourself in daydreams of the beautiful rooms it conceals; your bedroom with its fourposter bed, all draped in velvet and silk—the dark, lacquered wood of the study, which still smells of cigar smoke, though as far as you can tell one hasn’t been lit in there for years—and, of course, the library.

· Dark shelves line the walls, so tall they stretch from the wooden floor to the moulded ceiling. They stand, filled nearly past capacity with volumes of every shape and size, from encyclopedias so large you can lift only one at a time, to pocket novellas no bigger than your palm. Pages and spines alike, embossed with gold and silver shimmer from both the shelves and the tables set beside each of the overstuffed armchairs. The plush rug which lies beneath those tables and chairs makes even the floor a comfortable place to stretch out and lose oneself in a book. And the smell. Old leather and paper, printing ink and glue, dust and the very passage of time itself. It’s like every crooked old bookstore you’ve ever entered tucked away in a cozy corner of your own home. Whether or not you remember having dreamt of owning a private library, you were quite sure you could never go back to life without one and find yourself contented.

· Even now, you long to curl up in one of those plush chairs and sink into another world until bedtime. You knew a soft blanket and a half-finished novel waited for you there, begging you to come back and see to them. And why shouldn’t you? What else was there to do on a chilly night such as this? The day’s chores were completed—the rat traps were checked (empty as always), the laundry was done, wood for the fire was stacked in the shed, and the supper dishes had been washed and put away. There is very little else that requires your attention. So why not?

· Your socked feet sink into the plush, green carpeting as you mount the stairs. The banister is pleasantly cool and smooth beneath your fingertips. As you ascend, the light from below begins to dim, unable to reach any further into the darkness above. The difference made by the two flights of stairs between the lighted foyer and the dark second floor leaves you light-blinded and blinking in the shadows.

· When again you regain your sight enough to behold it, even in partial darkness, the hallway that stretches before you is beautiful—the wooden paneling on the lower half of the walls takes on a sleek shine, while the deep green wallpaper above it fades into a stately and sober black. The paintings and portraits that line the walls are somber; muted without the proper lighting to show their colours, but they are no less impressive or imposing. A ship, barely visible, save for the canvas sails, is tossed on a rapidly darkening sea, lighting flashing far in the distance—a bright brushstroke of pure white, clear even in deep shadow. An old woman, her name rendered illegible in the gloom, stares down her nose at you in deep disapproval. Her eyes, like the rest of her, are severe and grey, and they seem, through either a trick of the light or the mastery of the painter, to follow you down the hall.

· It is very dark. A thin, watery light filters through a small window at the end of the hall, but it does little to help guide you. You suppose you could turn on one of the many lamps that line the long and ponderous hall, but you know you can find your way just find without one. You’d spent several adventurous afternoons and many restless nights exploring the house and grounds. Though in the beginning you could barely follow the straight hall from the front door to the kitchen without getting lost, these days, you rarely, if ever, found yourself wandering the halls with no idea where you were.

· You reach out, brushing the wallpaper with the tips of your fingers as you walk, grounding yourself in the darkness. It’s almost rough to the touch, stiff with age, though it’s clearly been well taken care of. In the daylight, there is little sign of aging at all - no scuffs or faded sections. You knew the house itself was well over a hundred years old, but it showed its age in astonishingly few places. Sure, the phones were ancient and the lack of wi-fi was irritating but—

· Thump.

· You freeze in place. You’re sure the sound had come from within the wall, just to the left of where you stood. There is something in there. The blood roars in your ear as you press it up against the wallpaper, straining to hear even a hint of movement, be it the shifting of the wood as the house settles, or the pitter-patter of something living. The seconds stretch on into minutes, but no further sounds come. You scrunch up your nose, feeling rather silly. It’s probably just a mouse…or maybe a rat. It sounded big. Perhaps those traps were good for something after all.

· Your gaze lingers on the spot for a moment longer, but still, there is nothing but silence. Maybe it had been the house creaking in the wind. Old houses were prone to groaning after all. Either way, it couldn’t hurt to move some of the traps further up into the house for a little bit, just to be on the safe side.

· You turn and continue down the hall, mind once again turning to the blanket, the book, and the comfy glow of the library. You press your palm flat against the wall as you walk, the whisper of your skin sliding over the wallpaper barely audible, even in the quiet that envelops the house at night.

· Then your fingers catch against something—an indentation in the wallpaper. It’s subtle, but definitely there. You stop to inspect it closer, worried that perhaps your assessment about the house not showing its age may have come a little hastily. Your fingers explore the seam with care, and you decide it’s not a crack—it’s too regular, too straight. It feels intentional in its design. And it’s practically invisible in the darkness—likely just as difficult to spot in daylight considering how frequently you find yourself in this hall and your failure to take notice of it before now.

· You crouch down, following the seam with your fingers. It stretches all the way down to the floor. Why…it’s almost like…a little door…

· Almost at the same moment this thought trickles into your mind, the little section of wall gives way beneath your touch, swinging inward on silent hinges.

· From within the inky darkness beyond, a pair of long, thin arms surge forth, snaking around your waist. The grip in which they envelop you is bruising as you are pulled back into the darkness beyond the secret door.

· It slams behind you hard enough to rattle the picture frames in the hall. You scream, long and hard, struggling against the arms that cage you. You flail your limbs, lashing out blindly with fists and feet and nails, hoping desperately to strike your attacker, or at least wriggle enough to squirm from their crushing grasp. But the grip around your midsection only tightens, squeezing the very air from your lungs.

· You lurch into motion, the figure in the darkness half-carrying, half-dragging you along a narrow passageway. You try to scream again but find you can’t get enough air to do so. Instead, you lash out, legs kicking against the walls, knees and shins colliding painfully with rough, wooden support beams and sharp corners.

· While rounding a particularly tight corner, you manage to kick the opposite wall hard enough to throw your attacker off balance. A hissing shower of dust and plaster rains down on the pair of you. The figure stumbles, grip relaxing for only a moment, but it’s enough. You wriggle from their crushing grasp and dart back the way you came.

· The figure recovers quickly, and you can hear them bolting after you in the darkness. It doesn’t take long before they’re on you again, one large hand fisted deep in your hair, wrenching your head back. You cry out in pain, stumbling back against the intruder. The hand in your hair doesn’t relinquish it’s hold as their other arm wraps around your chest, locking in place like an iron bar. You struggle uselessly, hot tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you’re dragged back the way you’d come, seemingly with even less regard for your physical well-being.

· Not far beyond the corner where you’d made your escape, you’re shoved to the ground unceremoniously. As you make to crawl away, the figure circles around you, blocking your path of escape. Even as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can’t see much more than an outline. Even so, you can tell they’re much bigger than you. You feel a large hand sliding beneath your knees, and another on the small of your back and suddenly, the floor beneath you drops away. Instinctively, your arms shoot out, fumbling in the darkness for something solid to grab hold of. Your grasping hands find a fist-full of the intruder’s shirt. It’s soft and well-worn in your hands, and you clutch so tightly to it that you can feel your fingers beginning to cramp almost immediately. A soft rumble rolls through the figure, and after a moment, you realize they’re laughing at you. You want to let go, but the fear of tumbling backward into the darkness stills your hands.

· With the way you’re being jostled about, you get the distinct impression that you’re ascending a flight of stairs. Secret tunnels and staircases in the walls? Under any other circumstance, you would be ecstatic, ready to drop everything and explore them. But caught as you were, in the arms of a stranger, there is nothing but panic within you. Taking advantage of your new position, you take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the intention to scream, though you’re sure there’s no one around to hear you.

· “Don’t.” So, it’s a man? His voice is soft, a half-whisper that thrums through your body where it’s pressed up against his chest. There is a distinctly British tilt to his voice, and it’s oddly muffled, as though something was covering his mouth. You’re reminded of those old cartoon bandits who wore bandanas across their mouths. He doesn’t want to be identified. The though sends a cold chill through you. This isn’t good. “Scream and I’ll drop you.”

· The scream dies in your throat. While you certainly don’t like being caught in a strange man’s grip, the thought of lying broken at the bottom of a secret staircase no one else seems to know about hammers a worse kind of fear into your gut. You could die…or not and that might be the worse option: injured and completely at a stranger’s mercy. No. As it stands, if you follow his instructions, you remain unharmed, and the longer you remain unharmed, the better your chances of finding a way out.

· At the top of the steps, you find yourself in front of a rough wooden door. Here he readjusts his grip on you, bracing your weight against his hips as he taps the door open with a gentle kick.

· Suddenly, you’re bathed in a soft, golden light cast by the dozens of candles that lay scattered about the room. After so much time spent in the dark, the burst of light dazzles your eyes. In spite of your fear, you curl up against the strange man’s chest, turning away from the light that blinds and burns your eyes. It’s too much too soon.

· The man laughs again, bouncing you gently in his arms, like one would a small child, “No hiding.”

· His tone is light, but it is still a command. Sensing scant room for disobedience, you turn your face up towards his, cracking one eye open, then the other. You had been told not to, but in the flickering light, as you blink up at the face of your kidnapper, you can do nothing to stop the scream that builds in your throat.

· His face is hidden, not behind a bandana, but a porcelain mask. The pale white surface is littered with a spider’s web of thin cracks and what looks to be dried blood. Your eyes sweep over the soft curve of the mouth, the delicate nose which turns up at the end, and the empty spaces behind which dark, human eyes burn into your own.

· The moment the scream leaves you, ringing loud in the enclosed space, the man snarls, striding into the room with purpose. As he weaves through the maze of dusty old furniture, you beat your fists against his chest, squirming in his grip, trying with renewed desperation to escape his clutches. “Let me go! Let me go!!”

· Ignoring your pleas, he stalks to the far corner of the room, where a low-slung cot waits, tucked close against a rough brick wall. He dumps you none too gently onto it, and you scrabble backward, knocking your head against the wall behind you. Your ears ring with the force of the blow, but your eyes remain trained on the masked man as he clambers onto the cot with you.

· You jam yourself back into the corner, as far from the menacing figure as possible. He comes toward you slowly, laughing, as though this were all some silly game the pair of you were enjoying. You kick at him, and he swats your leg away, his shoulders shaking with laughter. His eyes, however, aren’t laughing. Where they peak out from beneath the mask, they blaze with only one thing: hunger.

· You kick out at him again, catching him, this time, on the jaw, just beneath the edge of his mask. And just like that he’s not laughing anymore. He goes frighteningly still, and there’s a change in the air. You know he’s done playing.

· He lunges for you, and you shriek, cowering back against the wall, the rough bricks digging into the flesh of your arms. His hands close around your ankles and he pulls you down toward him.

· He slots himself between your legs, pinning your thighs down with boney knees. You squirm beneath him, but he’s too heavy for you to shake off. He looms above you in the candlelight, breathing hard, his eyes flashing behind the mask. With a jolt, you realize he’s going to hurt you. You’re so sure, you flinch, cringing away from him as much as is possible, bracing for the pain that’s sure to come.

· But, when his knuckles brush against your cheek, it’s not in anger. It’s a gentle caress that jolts through you like an electric current. You turn to look at him, as he brushes the damp hair back from your forehead. He stares at you for a long moment, drinking in your shock, before leaning down to press cool porcelain lips against yours.

· The kindness of his gestures surprises you almost more than any blow he could have delivered. When he promised to play rough, he usually meant it. With shaking hands, you reach up to touch his face. Your fingers slip beneath the mask, brushing the hair and skin beneath with feather-light touches. You want to see his face, want kisses from his real lips, want—

· But the man’s fingers curl around your wrists, wrenching your hands from his face. “No.” There is force behind the word equal to the force with which he pins your wrists against the sheets, indenting the mattress beneath them. His voice, in that same soft whisper from before, rasps in your ear, “Not even when we’re playing, Love.”

· You swallow hard, all the pretenses of your little experiment dropping away in an instant. You realize you came dangerously close to crossing a line. “Okay. Brahms. I-I’m sorry.”

· You expect that he’ll want to stop now, and you wouldn’t blame him if he did, but he surprises you by nuzzling against your neck, “Not ‘Brahms.’”

· So, he still wants to play. You smile up at him. “Oh, right! Sorry.”

· He bends over your neck again, pressing porcelain kisses against your neck. You crane your head back, eager to make up for your misstep with the mask. There’s something about these kisses that makes your heart flutter—perhaps it’s simply the rush of a new sensation against sensitive flesh, or maybe it’s the knowledge that his real lips lay just beneath that hard surface, so close and yet completely out of reach.

· When he lets go of your left wrist, you’re so caught up in these kisses, that you barely register it. That is until you feel the mask slide in an unnatural direction against your skin, and you feel Brahms’ real lips against your neck for the first time. Your whole body jerks forward, pressing against him with a soft sigh on your lips. His mouth is softer and warmer than you ever could have imagined. Even his beard feels good where it scratches against you.

· His teeth scrape over your pulse, drawing another sound from you. You throw your arms around his neck and pull him down on top of you. His laugh rasps out against your throat, as he stamps warm kisses all across your collarbone.

· You roll your hips against his and he groans, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. He surges upward fixing his teeth into the meat of your neck as he grinds down against you, letting you feel just how badly he wants you. His name slips between your teeth as a hiss and you feel him smile against your neck. His tongue flickers over the mark he’s left, though it’s more to lay further claim than to soothe the ache his teeth pushed into your flesh.

· When he pulls back, he’s already pushing the mask back into place, though you catch a quick flash of the smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth.

· He looks down at you, eyes sliding slow down your body, head cocked to the side like he’s thinking. He has that hungry look about him again and it lights a white-hot bolt of desire in your gut. You lift your hips, rolling them against his, relishing both the spark of pleasure that shoots through your stomach, and the shiver that rolls down his spine. A little whine escapes his lips, and you feel your heart leap. God, you’d do anything to hear that sound again. He meets the roll of your body with a stuttering jolt of his own.

· You can’t help but beam up at him. “What are you thinking about Brah—Mister?”

· He sighs deeply, running his hands down your chest, his fingers tracing along your ribs. “About all the things I could do to you…”

· A breathless puff of laughter escapes you, “Oh, yeah?” You guide his hands down to your hips, hoping he’ll take the hint. “Like what?”

· “Hm…let’s see. I could, hold you down,” His hands, still resting beneath yours tighten against your hips, pushing you down against the mattress. You try to buck up against him, but he holds you fast, “I don’t think so, Love.” He grips you hard, dipping his head to whisper into your ear, “I could just hold you here, and you’d have to take whatever I decide to give you.” His thumbs trace the seams of your hips. Even through your jeans it makes you shudder.

· “Or, I could give you very little at all,” He lets go of your hips in favour of ghosting a hand down your thigh. His other hand presses gently against your zipper. His fingers trail down the seam, until you feel the pressure against your clit and jerk against his hand. He pulls away, “Just enough to keep you interested, but not enough to satisfy you.”

· You whine, feeling a damp patch growing in your underwear. You know he’d get such a charge from dragging this out, teasing you until your arousal had soaked through the denim of your jeans. You could hear him now, ‘A few kisses and some dirty words…it’s that easy?' While you’d usually be willing to indulge him, you weren’t willing to give him that satisfaction today. He was already so uppity as it was. “Or you could just toss my legs over your shoulders and take what you want.” You toss an arm over your forehead in an attempt at playing toward his flair for the dramatic, “Look at me, baby. I’m defenseless.” You roll your hips against him again, nice and slow. You can tell by the hitch in his breathing that you’ve almost got him convinced. You can barely keep the smirk from your face as you arch your back, and whimper for him, “Please?”

· That one word is all it takes to break him. In a flash he’s slipped out of his cardigan and tossed it off into the darkness of the attic. His suspenders follow suit with a metallic clinking. It isn’t until he’s unbuttoning his trousers that you realize you have mere seconds to undo your own before Brahms falls upon you and tears them off himself. You’ve lost more than one good pair of jeans this way and you don’t intend to lose another if you can help it.

· Your shaking hands fumble with the button, managing to pop it only after a few tries. Taking them off from your position underneath Brahms is no small feat, especially considering his reluctance to move, now that his trousers rest about his knees and he’s rolling his hips against your still clothed thigh, his cock already leaking against the denim.

· “Want you now.” His voice is rough, breaking in time with the thrusting of his hips.

· “I know, baby. But you’ve gotta wait.”

· Brahms huffs in irritation. ‘Wait’ is not a word he likes to hear at the best of times, let alone when his dick is this hard.

· You tap his hip gently. “C’mon, up.”

· He drops his head against your shoulder with a petulant whimper, his hips stuttering against your thigh.

· “Brahms…” You sigh, half-frustrated, half-amused. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find it incredibly sexy when Brahms acted like a brat, but your pleasure was at stake here as well. “You can’t fuck me properly with my jeans on.”

· His hips slow for a moment, and he whines again.

· “C’mon, be a good boy for me.” You feel his cock pulse against your thigh, and he relents. He scoots back just enough for you to push your jeans and underwear down your thighs. Brahms takes care of the rest, tearing the offending fabric from your legs and tossing it from the bed to join his cardigan on the floor.

· His hands are on your shoulders in an instant, shoving you back against the mattress, all patience spent. You feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and barely have a time to take a breath before he’s pushing inside with a single, smooth stroke.

· “F-Fuuuck…”

· “Yeah, that’s the idea, baby.” Your hands are fisted tightly in the sheets, your voice tight as your body grows accustomed to the stretch once again. You’ve taken Brahms with little preparation before. You know you can handle it, but somehow the girth of him almost always comes as a surprise.

· To his credit, he does his best to keep still until you give him the ‘okay,’ though you can feel his hips shaking with the effort. He’s mouthy while he waits though, any trace of the gentleman within him his gone, replaced by a cursing, dirty-talking stranger, “Gonna pound you into this mattress, gonna fuck you like—fuck you’re so wet—like your my whore…mine, mine, ah fuck! Mine.”

· You roll your hips, testing the water, and he bites back a string of curses. His hips stutter forward unbidden, and you moan low in your throat.

· Behind the mask, you see his eyes roll back. He starts to beg then, changing his tune entirely, “Please, Love, let me fuck you, please, please, please. I promise I’ll be good. I will, just please!”

· You reach up, carding your fingers through his hair, “Show me what a good boy you are, make us feel good, baby.”

· Without missing a beat, Brahms’ hips take up a frantic rhythm, tearing a litany of pretty sounds from your throat. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair as he drops his head to press doll’s mouth kisses against your throat.

· Your hand slips between your bodies, spreading your lips to circle your clit. You buck against him, gasping his name as the pleasure courses through you two-fold.

· A strong hand grasps your wrist again pulling it away from your clit. “We mustn’t touch what isn’t ours.” You nearly whine in frustration, but your displeasure is quickly forgotten when you feel the soft pads of Brahms’ fingers against your sensitive flesh.

· “You,” he groans in pleasure, angling his hips to push deeper inside of you, “You belong to me.” He punctuates the sentiment with a sharp snap of his hips. “That means I am the only one who can make you feel good.” He presses his fingers hard against your clit, and your thighs begin to shake. “Tell me who you belong to.”

· It takes you a second to find your voice. “Y-You, Brahms.”

· “Yesss,” the rhythm of his thrusts is beginning to fall by the wayside as his hips buck and stutter. “Say it again.” His fingers circle your clit faster, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of orgasm.

· “Fuck, Brahms! I’m yours! A-All yours! You’re gonna make me cum.”

· “Mine.” You feel the mask slide to the side again and his lips are on your neck. You feel his teeth graze the bite mark he’d left. His teeth are in your throat, his fingers on your clit, his cock in your cunt, and you’re cumming. His name tumbles from your lips, the only coherent thought in your mind.

· He groans against your neck, trying to fuck you through it, but you’re too tight around him, forcing him into an agitated stillness. His fingers work your clit feverishly until you push his hand away, too oversensitive to stand another second of it.

· You’re still almost painfully tight around him when the rhythmic pulsing of your own orgasm begins to push him over the edge. He thrusts into you once, twice, thrice more, before pulling out and shaking apart, his cum painting your thighs and stomach. He whimpers and trembles, fisting his cock through the aftershocks of his orgasm, desperate to chase every last ounce of pleasure.

· Only when he’s well and truly spent, nearly sobbing from the agony of the overstimulation does he flop down on the cot beside you, panting heavily, cock still twitching against his thighs.

· He kicks off his trousers, and curls up by your side, throwing an arm around you. For the longest time, the only sound in the room is that of your breathing slowing in tandem as you each come down from your high.

· Brahms’ voice is small when he speaks up at last, “Did I do okay?”

· You turn to face him, laying on your side. You reach out a hand and readjust his mask, before pressing a soft kiss against the delicate bow of his lips. “You were perfect. Thank you, Brahms.”

· He nods once, but he doesn’t look convinced. There’s tension in his shoulders, and he won’t look you in the eyes.

· “What’s wrong, honey?”

· He shakes his head, burrowing against your side. “Nothing…”

· “It doesn’t look like nothing to me. It’s okay to talk to me about things like this, you know.”

· He’s silent for a little while longer, and you wonder if he needs a little more prodding to use his words. But then, he speaks, “I wasn’t…too rough? In the passages?”

· “No, baby. No. It was exactly like we talked about.”

· “Okay.” There’s a little touch of a frown in his voice, like he’s trying to puzzle something through in his mind. “I didn’t expect you to fight me so hard. It felt…real.”

· “I wanted to make it seem real. Did I upset you?”

· There’s a long pause, but when he speaks, he sounds genuine. “I don’t think so. It was a little…thrilling.”

· You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your throat, “It was, wasn’t it? Where did you get an idea like that? Pretending to kidnap me and all that?”

· He’s quiet for a moment, as he remembers a time not so long ago, when the idea was meant to be more reality than fantasy. He was supposed to have that girl. He should have done better, should have fought for her harder, should have killed her and buried her in the yard with the others. He should have done a lot of things. The scar on his stomach burns with the memory of all the things he should have done. But they don’t matter now. She doesn’t matter now. He has you.

· He presses another kiss against your neck and lies, “Recreation of a scene from 'Jane Eyre.' You know how I adore that novel. And you being such a pretty lady, simply had to fill the role of the damsel in distress.”

· “If you say so.” You snuggle closer against his chest. He really was a very strange man. A yawn blossoms in the base of your jaw, but you do your best to fight it off. You know you’ll be sore later, but for now you’re happy and sated and perfectly content to doze in the arms of the man you love.

· Then a thought hits you, “Hold on, Jane Eyre doesn’t get kidnapped, Brahms.”

· He chuckles softly against your shoulder, “So you have been reading my books after all.”

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #the boy 2016 #slasher x reader #im so sorry this is so late #i couldnt figure out how to wrote brahms in a way that i liked :/#enjoy i hope #im off to bed #also ive never written het smut before so...i hope its alright #ripper fics

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ironmandeficiency · 3 years

Text

fuck you very much

pairing: javier peña / reader

word count: 988

summary: if you say “fuck you very much” fast enough, it sounds like you’re saying “thank you” instead of “fuck you”

a/n: i reread this fic of mine and had this idea for a sister fic based on smth my parents say so 🤷🏻‍♀️ also steve casually calls you “man” once & javi says “our girl” as a slight joke

you wish these meetings would start to bring good news. conversations with the ambassador are, more often than not, preludes to bad or worse news. criticizing how one operation went and giving unnecessary reminders to the importance of your job as if you’re not on the field before the sun rises and long after it sets. it’s chock-full of ridiculous bureaucracy and ego balancing under the guise of being polite guests in colombia and it drives you absolutely mad.

because you weren’t a man in a man-dominated field, you had a tighter noose on your neck. the slightest sway of the breeze, one wrong move could put your career (and sometimes, life) in jeopardy. you couldn’t lash out in anger without being seen as “psycho” or “too emotional.” if you took a page out of javier’s book and tried sleeping around to let out steam, any respect you’ve earned on the field through your hard work would be tarnished by your sex life.

it was hard for your first several months in colombia to not rip new ones in the many many people who disrespected you. one phone call home reminded you of a trick that a family friend used when piled down with the paperwork of people who couldn’t be bothered to do what was required of them. every time people would drop a thick stack on her desk, she would smile and give them a “fuck you very much” spoken fast enough to be misheard for a thank you.

at first you were hesitant to use this tactic at work. if you didn’t speak it fast enough or if the wrong person could truly understand you, it could result in disciplinary action that you didn’t have the patience to deal with. that would only give even more ample reason for you to need said trick.

then stechner visited.

everything about this man radiated shifty and skeevy. no matter how you tried, there was almost nothing (and you don’t say this lightly) redeemable or tolerable about that man. even his bald spot had the power to annoy you, which was a feat in itself. the only thing you could do was tough it out when you were around him and hope that if you didn’t have the patience, you’d have an untraceable gun.

today was one of those days where nearly everyone (but mostly stechner) rubbed you the wrong way and you were this close to tearing your hair out and screaming bloody murder in frustration and indignation. it all came to a head when you were called into ambassador noonan’s office and stechner was sitting there like the cat who ate the canary. you were too busy wondering what canary could he have eaten to warrant such a smug look to be fully paying attention to the ambassador’s scolding.

“are you even listening, agent?! the government pays you to listen to your superiors, yet here you stand…”

javier and steve open the door mid-scolding and your blood cools just enough to keep control over the hand itching to deck the cia agent not even trying to contain his amusement. “i hate to say this… peña, murphy,” messina sighs in resignation, wagging a finger between the men. “you two, reel this one in or all three of you face suspension. i’m not going to tolerate any more rogue agents running around colombia.”

everyone in the room knew that messina was desperate if she was asking steve and javi to reel you in. this desperation gave way to an awkward tension in the air felt by all but stechner, the douche. in spite of the awkwardness cloud, you were fuming at the audacity of messina for dragging you in front of stechner and your partners. your partners were truly expecting there to be smoke coming from your ears the longer they watched the scene unfold, bodies tense and ready to pounce in case they had to keep you from letting loose on the smug cia agent.

you took a deep breath. this was not the hill to die on, and you weren’t going to give stechner the pleasure of watching you go down in flames. instead, you spoke with a smile and saved your anger for a time when you wouldn’t lose your job for showing it. “well fuck you very much for your time. if there’s anything else i can do for you, please let me know.” and with that, you walked out without looking back.

it didn’t take a genius to know that your partners were following you out of the ambassador’s office. their footsteps echoed on the cheap tiled floor with the tact of a clumsy elephant. you didn’t grace them with your attention until you were slumped in your desk with a huff. “what is it, guys?”

“you literally just said ‘fuck you’ to the ambassador and didn’t get fired on the spot, man.” he scoffed as he sat and lit a cigarette. “you’re insane!”

okay, so someone caught on to it. as long as it wasn’t the ambassador, you still had a job. plus, it pleasantly surprised your boys which was a feat in itself, those two (sometimes) had hawk eyes and it’s typically hard to sneak something by them. on other occasions, you might as well ask a brick wall for help with how blind they could be.

javi laughed at the smug smile you wore at your accomplishment, knowing you were gonna ride this high for a while. “we shouldn’t expect anything less from our girl, stevie,” he replied with a wink. “now let’s get to work, we gotta make sure we keep her in line.”

all three of you laughed at that remark knowing full well that the three of you were waking chaos in blue jeans and badges. there was going to be no reining in getting done anytime soon, but that’s what made colombia a bit more tolerable.

javi taglist: @catsnkooks @senator-nahberries @majorshiraharu @stardustsunrisekisses @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @darthadeline @max--phillips @themarcusmoreno @jedi-mando @obirain @battletales @greeneyedblondie44 @pedropasscals @princess76179 @kaermorons @hornystarwarsbisexual @lv7867 @whovianwar @purelypascal @andysficrecs @book-of-anarchy

#javier peña imagines #javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #fuck you very much #narcos imagine #pedro pascal

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aiden21 · 3 years

Text

A Universe of Coincidences Present Mic x gn!Reader

Word count: 4k+

You’d moved into this new apartment expecting nothing other than a change in scenery. You’d initially fallen in love with the view that your balcony provided. You were on a high enough floor that no other building nearby really got in the way, and if you closed one eye and stretched out one hand, it kinda looked like you were holding some of the city in the palm of your hand. You didn’t even care about the fact that the apartment itself was a little small, and you spent most of your free time out on the balcony in a small garden chair, just gazing out at the world happily.

You only went out a few times a week for anything that wasn’t work, this afternoon being one such case, for groceries or other necessities. You had a small list in your hand, not trusting your memory, and got in the elevator. The doors were about to close when you heard someone running and you instinctively pressed the button to keep the doors open. A man trotted inside the elevator, a charming smile on his face.

“Thank you~” He told you, in clear English, and you smiled shyly back at him.

You shook your wrist out of pure instinct, the charms on your bracelet clinging together. It was a black bracelet with red roses and you realized the man was staring at it with cheerful eyes.

“Did you just move in? I don’t think I’ve seen you around this venue before.” He asked, green eyes sparkling behind a modest pair of glasses. He was cute, you told yourself, with his long blonde hair and little mustache.

“I’ve been in 1407 for a few days.” You said, offering your last name and a polite smile. He hummed, nodded, and then when the elevator reached the ground floor all too quickly, he pointed at you with a finger gun.

“Welcome to the building! Enjoy the show!” He said before walking out while whistling happily, his strides much longer than yours. You waved at his back dumbly, already getting the feeling that you knew him from somewhere. You pondered upon that as you walked to the store, feeling like you had the answer on the tip of your tongue. But, alas, you didn’t think you’d ever seen that man face to face before and so you pushed the thought out of your mind for a while.

The following morning found you in comfy clothes, the sliding door to the balcony wide open to let the breeze in. You were unpacking a few things, hanging some decorations, while your favorite album played in the background. You had one of those modern vinyl players along with five of your favorite records, all a gift from your family last Christmas, and you liked to listen to them like that, even though you had the songs on your phone. It’d be a shame to just let the vinyls gather dust, after all. You sang along, placing things on shelves and stacking empty boxes on top of one another. You were far from being a good singer, but being home alone gave you the confidence to try and hold longer harmonies or reach higher notes, all things you wouldn’t be caught doing out in public.

You half danced your way around your living room, putting things in their new places. You stepped out into your balcony, still singing happily. You looked at your plants, reminding yourself that you had to water them once the sun went down.

You stretched, butchering the high note on the song but belting it out regardless, and then you stopped dead when another, much more harmonious voice joined you. Apartments on the same floors technically all shared one long balcony, but it’d been divided by walls on either side so everyone could have their privacy. Thus, you couldn’t actually see who was out on their balcony. But the voice—male, for what you could tell—sounded impossibly close. They kept on singing along to your music, clearly not caring about being heard, and you ran back inside with a hand over your mouth, blushing like crazy.

You tripped on the rug and cursed out loud, knocking over a stack of books. Outside the voice laughed cheerfully and you wanted to bury yourself alive out in the garden. Thankfully, they said nothing after that and, not having seen their face, you managed to swallow down your embarrassment. You pushed back the feeling that you knew that voice, not wanting to even think about what neighbor had caught you singing like a teenager.

You came back from work one day feeling exhausted. You wanted nothing more than to climb into bed, listen to some music, and go to sleep. You stepped inside the building and immediately the guard stopped you in the lobby. He pointed you towards some boxes—at least ten boxes big enough to fit a medium-sized dog inside—and told you that they were yours. Of course they were. During your move a few of your things had gotten lost, you having moved from one end of Japan onto the other, and the moving company had promised you that the boxes had simply gotten mixed up in someone else’s move. You half believed that you’d never see those things again, but lo and behold, you got your things back. Now to get them up to your apartment all by yourself, since the guard couldn’t leave his post at the gate. Wonderful.

The first box was easy.

The third one felt a little heavier.

The seventh one had you gasping and you were honestly considering just leaving the rest of your stuff in the lobby until the end of times. You were tired and annoyed and hungry and still in your work clothes.

The elevator opened with a cheerful ding and you sighed, dragging your feet and taking another box with the word ‘books’ written on top. You attempted to lift it, the air leaving your lungs on that first attempt before you got a better hold of the box. Your back was killing you and your arms hurt, but you carried on towards the elevator. Unable to use your hands, you attempted to balance on one leg so you could free one hand just long enough to call the elevator, but no such luck. You lost your balance and, while you caught yourself in time, the box was heading straight for the floor. But then, fast as lightning, a hand reached out and caught the side you’d lost your grip upon.

“That was close! Almost missed a beat!” He said and you immediately smiled in relief.

“Thank you,” You said, a nervous laugh escaping you. You tried to take the box back, but the blonde man easily took it from you with a friendly smile. He was wearing a flattering red jacket and stylish black pants, his hair pulled back into a messy bun.

“I got it.”

You felt a little awkward, a little dumb, a thousand things, “I don’t wanna bother you.”

“No problemo. Happy to help!” He responded cheerfully, anchoring the box with his hip, and easily calling for the elevator himself. You felt hot under your shirt and you weren’t sure if it was because of the effort of the past boxes or what.

No, fuck it, you knew what it was.

“Hold on, let me get another one before the elevator gets here,” You said, practically running away. There were three boxes left, and you read over the words written on them to try and decide which one would be the easiest one to carry. Or should you take a heavier one? Which would be less embarrassing? You finally picked one that said ‘pictures’ and made your way back, getting inside the already open elevator. He looked over your head, chuckling at the sight of boxes still left behind. He put his box down and told you to wait and you watched in absolute dismay as he stacked the two remaining boxes one on top of the other, easily—easily, the smooth bastard— carrying them over.

You were beet red when he got in the elevator with you, his happy-go-lucky smile threatening to burn you.

“Not to pry, but what’s all this?” He said, almost teasingly, and you had to look away.

“Some boxes went missing during my move. I already got everything else in my apartment.” You said shyly. He hummed, nodding. When you got to the 14th floor, he got off the elevator with two boxes while you carried the other two, thankful that he’d allowed you to help him. He was the one helping you, you knew that, but you still felt embarrassed at the fact.

He’s just a normal neighbor, he’s being friendly.

You got to your door and you pushed it open with your hip, wincing internally at how plain and messy your place was. You lived alone and many of your things had been missing, so you hadn’t bothered with some of your things. Your favorite record was on the counter, right where he placed the boxes he’d helped carry. You turned to steal a glance at his face and you saw him pursing his lips together, trying almost in vain to bite a smile back and you wanted to jump out the window. Still, you inhaled slowly and pushed your embarrassment back, offering him a smile.

“Thanks for the help, really.”

“My pleasure. I’m here all week.” He shot at you with finger guns, almost posing as he did so, and you giggled. He was a little goofy, but you liked that.

“Do you want some help with unpacking?” He asked but you shook your head immediately. “N-no, I’m okay. Thank you, though, I really owe you one!” You gave him a wide, bright smile, and he stared at you for a second. His brows raised a little beneath his glasses and you looked down on instinct, thinking you’d made a weird face. Then you perked up, turning towards your kitchen.

“Oh! Would you like some water? I can also make some tea or coffee if you’d like!” You sounded nervous, you couldn’t help it, but you knew it was the polite thing to do now that he was inside your house.

“I’d love to, but I gotta bounce.” He said, smiling apologetically. You stopped to look at him and then, almost embarrassed, you walked towards the door by his side. “Duty calls, the crowd is cheering, you know how it is.”

You nodded, not really understanding what he meant but smiling regardless. He gave you a small salute and started walking away, you already closing your door behind him. Then, right before it locked,

“It’s Yamada, by the way.”

“Huh?” You asked, reopening the door and peeking your head out. He had another easy-going smile on his lips.

“My name. You told me yours but I haven’t told you mine. I’m Yamada.” With that, he left.

You closed your door with a dumb smile, pinching your cheeks to try and stop yourself from blushing like a teen. You were a grown adult for crying out loud, your cute neighbor helping you out shouldn’t be something to fluster over. Still, you smiled.

You sat right in the division between your balcony and your living room, wanting to feel the night breeze but also wanting to listen to your radio. The device was inside and the volume was low out of respect for your neighbors, and you sighed contentedly as one song ended and another began. Your breath blew away the steam coming out of your mug and you smiled, taking a small sip of your drink. It was a beautiful night, the view of the city looking as if stars had landed on the ground, lights twinkling everywhere.

You always had trouble falling asleep, no matter what you tried. Tea and music helped a little, but at your core, you were a night owl. Most days were the same, you working into the early morning just to make the most out of your nights, but Friday was different. Because on Fridays Present Mic did his radio show and you absolutely loved it. Three hours of music, both foreign and local, only interrupted by one of the most charismatic, funniest heroes out there. What wasn’t there to love?

And now that you had your new place, with that gorgeous view, well, you could’ve stayed out there forever.

“And we’re back! How did you like the new song, listeners?” A familiar, animated voice flowed out of your speakers.

“Tonight, my lovely listeners, I’d like to pose you all with a little situation.” He said, something he did every week without fault. He would ask something to the audience and then, after a few more songs, he’d read a few of the responses he got online. It was sweet and fun and a nice way to interact with his audience, not to mention the only way you had to even speak a word to the guy. For as long as you’d watched the show, your responses had only been read twice thus far and, while frustrated to not get your favorite hero’s attention more often, you were still happy with those two little shoutouts.

“Pardon if I get a little cheesy, but sometimes the melodies of the soul grow tender and you can’t help but wonder a few things.”

You took another sip of your tea, Twitter open in your phone just so you could answer as fast as possible.

“Do you think sometimes life works in our favor?” He paused, chuckled, and then cleared his throat. “See, I think we attract things our way. We write our own songs, if you will. But sometimes I’ll have these moments, where the universe really seems to be trying to get my attention and I won’t be able to tell if it’s really a sign as much as it is a coincidence, you feel me?”

You listened to him intently, your phone forgotten by your side. It was… odd. Really odd. You’d heard this man’s voice over the radio for years but something felt different at that moment. Maybe it was the tone of voice, or the subject being discussed, or who knows what, but you got a different feeling this time. But what was it?

“See, I’ve gotten a few this last week. And I’m sure you all get them all the time. And now I’m thinking that, maybe, if the universe sings to you, it’s only polite to join in, harmonize.”

Something crossed your mind, a quick flash, but you shook your head out of pure instinct. No. There was no way.

“My question, or challenge more like it, to you this week is this: if you think you’ve heard the call recently, answer it. Cause you never know who might be listening to you.”

You saw a flash of green eyes, you remembered two elevator rides, but you kept shaking your head. You even laughed, thinking yourself a total idiot. It was impossible, right? I mean sure the voice was eerily familiar, but that was just a coincidence...

Right?

“Of course, as the dutiful host that I am, I can’t ask you to jam out without a proper beat, so I’ll start. Here’s my attempt at seeing if this week has been anything other than coincidences.”

He went silent and you held your breath for a moment, your expression stuck somewhere between mocking and panicked. Then the next song started playing and it took you about two seconds to recognize it. Was the record sleeve still on the counter? Was the vinyl still beneath the needle, waiting to resume that same, exact song?

A few things crossed your mind at that moment. The superficial, more impulsive side of you kinda wanted to toss the radio out the window. The more intense side of you wanted to scream, because Goddammit, HOW HAD YOU NOT RECOGNIZED HIM AT ANY POINT!? Sure, the few times you two had crossed paths he’d been dressed in civilian clothes, he’d been wearing seeing glasses, and his hair had been held together by a simple bun, rather than the crazy updo that he usually wore. But still, you chided yourself, you’d shared an elevator with him twice already. You’d talked to him, face to face. He’d been inside your home, for crying out loud!

How? Hoooooow?

You groaned, letting your back hit the ground while you covered your face in absolute shame. You stayed down until the song was over and, as other songs played, you started going through every stage of grief, in order.

There was no way, absolutely no way. It was just a coincidence, that was all. Your neighbor just happened to be blonde and handsome and also happened to make a few musical references as he spoke, but that was normal. Anyone could do that. Besides, you’d never seen him in costume; there’s no way a respectable hero would go out wearing casual clothes. What if they ran into danger?

How had you not put the pieces together earlier? You were such an idiot, just talking to him as if he was a normal, cute guy. How had you let him carry your boxes for you!? He probably thought you were so dumb by now. How could you be so blind, so DEAF!? HE’D EVEN TOLD YOU HIS LAST NAME! Why had God cursed you with such stupidity?

At this point he started talking again, reading out some of the responses he’d gotten and encouraging people to ‘go for it!’

Oh God, there was no way you’d ever be able to look him in the eye again. You’d never be able to listen to that song again without thinking of how badly you’d messed up, how badly you’d probably offended him by not recognizing him. You’d just moved in, too, and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to step foot outside again. Why had he even played that song? Had he been the one to sing with you and then laugh at you? Oh great. He knew you were an idiot. Wonderful. It was over. Your life was over.

No, wait, maybe there was some way to fix this. Maybe he hadn’t been the one to sing and laugh, maybe he’d just listened to that from his own balcony and found it funny. Maybe this ‘sign’ was meant for the other person, the one that sang so much better than you. Maybe you were making all of it up in your head, a stupid fan moment where you really wanted him to know you, really wanted to be that close to him without even knowing. Besides, you could still sell the apartment and move somewhere far away.

You groaned again, pulling at your hair. You stared at the ceiling as the music stopped, as he gave his audience his usual, animated goodnight, even as the night air grew colder. It must have been sometime past midnight when you finally decided to act like a normal adult once more. You got up, switched the radio off, and closed your balcony door. You heaved a sigh, suddenly craving another cup of tea and a nice, long bath.

You shoved a mug full of water inside the microwave, not in the mood to boil the water properly. You watched the cup go round and round, the loud humming of the appliance giving you a crumb of comfort. You had to relax, you told yourself. Everything would be fine.

The sound of the power outage mimicked a sad sigh, the absolute silence of your apartment slapping you in the face. You sighed, resting your forehead against the counter. If the universe really did send out signs, then you wanted to slap the universe smack dab across the face. You glanced outside and, sure enough, all of the buildings and houses in your area had been plunged into absolute darkness.

“Anything else?” You asked to the heavens, slightly annoyed.

From the hallway, you heard a loud crash and a high-pitched yelp, and you sighed as dramatically as you could. You grabbed your phone, turned on the flashlight, and ventured out.

It was kinda creepy, you weren’t gonna lie. You hadn’t lived in there for long enough to grow familiar with anything, so the pitch-black hallway made you shiver. It was like a horror movie set up, you thought as you turned. You’d look down the other end of the hall and a monster would be waiting for you, ready to strike you down.

Except, it wasn’t a ghost or a ghoul. It was Yamada—should you call him Present Mic? Which would be less awkward to you?— with his green eyes wide and his hands outstretched. He’d knocked over one of those silver cylinders where buildings hide their fire extinguishers and you blinked a little at the sight. Why did he look so guilty?

“You okay?” You asked, stepping out of your apartment. You were glad that the light was aimed away from you, cause you knew you looked flustered and dumb.

“My phone died.” He offered as an explanation and you nodded as he placed the metallic container back in place. You shined your light down the hall, landing on the elevator and shivering.

“Thank God you didn’t get trapped in there.” You murmured. He looked up at you, then at the elevator and you saw him shivering. When he turned to face you, he looked sheepish.

“That would have been quite the show ender, huh?” He chuckled and you kinda smiled at him in the dark. This wasn’t awkward, why were you making it awkward on yourself?

You shone your light on the ground so he could make it over to you without tripping again, not that there were any other obstacles in the way. He gave you a disarming smile and suddenly you wanted to run back into your apartment and never come out again. Still, with the power out, your nice side won the battle raging in your chest.

“Which one’s your apartment?” You asked, almost a mumble. Yamada looked at you, blinking a few times, and you waved the light around a little. “I’ll walk you over. Wouldn’t wanna leave you in the dark.”

“Thanks!” He said, in English, and you nodded. He guided you down the hall into apartment 1403, which was on the same side of the hall as your own. Remembering your improvised little concert from a few days ago, you blushed madly. Of course you shared balconies, why wouldn’t you.

“Home sweet home,” He said, looking for his keys amongst an endless amount of pockets. He finally found them and you couldn’t help but smile at the keychains dangling from his set of keys. He had a little black cat, a rose, a little cloud, and a rubber duck, the last one making you giggle quietly. He looked at you in the dark for a moment, not even trying to find the right key. After a few seconds he snapped out of it and he unlocked his door in a flash. He pushed it open a little and neither of you moved.

“Aren’t I lucky you of all people were awake to shine my path,” He joked, sounding more nervous than you’d ever heard him, even from his radio show.

“It’s okay,” You smiled kindly, fighting back your emotions. “I did own you one, after all.”

He chuckled, nodding and rubbing the back of his neck. There was a moment of silence, both of you trying to figure out just what you should do next. You moved your phone, the light illuminating the wall.

“Why are you up so late, anyway?” He asked you. You had to bite back a panicked laugh, the events of the night replaying in your head. Not too late to sell the apartment, you told yourself.

“I was making some tea,” You said lamely, hands fidgeting. It was such a dumb thing to say since it didn’t actually answer his question, but it was all you had. “But then the power went out and, I mean, my stove’s electric anyway. I guess I’ll have to wait till tomorrow.”

You added that last part as a segway, a crutch of sorts that would allow you to excuse yourself before you could say anything else that might make you look like more of a fool. It was a shame, really. If you weren’t so embarrassed right now then you might try to keep the conversation going. He was handsome and polite, after all. But no, you had too much in your head, songs and signs and vibrant green eyes and you should probably go now, you told yourself. You mumbled a polite ‘goodnight’ before turning on your heels, already set on going home. Behind you, Yamada hesitated. He swallowed thickly, cursed his dumb brain, and then,

“My stove’s not electric.”

You stopped, frowning.

“Huh?” You turned back, raising the light a little just so you could look at him without outright blinding him. He was playing with his keys, his eyes on the ground. Was that… a blush on his face?

“My stove works even without power,” He explained dumbly, eyes only focusing on you for one second at a time as he spoke. “And I have tea. I mean, I’m not… Do you wanna come inside?” He held out his hands, a quiet and shy offer now between you. It was an invitation, a question and a hopeful wish all in one and his face reflected that perfectly.

You blinked, feeling numb for a second before a warm, tingly feeling crawled up your arms. You wanted to bite back your smile, wanted to convince yourself that he was just being kind, but there were too many coincidences by now.

If the universe is calling, then it’s only polite to respond, right?

“I’d like that. A lot.” You said. His eyes opened wide, forest tones enclosed by a ring of lovely, pastel green, and you smiled. He grinned from ear to ear, finally opening his door fully and stepping aside to let you in.

You hummed for a second, feeling a lot braver than you had in a long while.

“By the way,” You said teasingly, “That’s not my favorite song in the album.”

He blinked, watching you walk into his home with an almost shocked expression. He finally laughed, closing the door behind you both.

#present mic #hizashi yamada x reader #yamada hizashi #bnha x reader #bnha #x reader #reader insert

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hale-13 · 3 years

Text

The Trouble with Tabloids

By Hale13 for @jenniboo311

“Oh look at this, this is a good one: ‘Some suggest that Parker’s powers include the male spider’s ability to hypnotize females.”

“Stop, c’mon,” Peter says back, slightly irritated at her teasing.

“Yes my Spider-Lord,” MJ says, dropping her voice in pitch and, against his will he starts chuckling. It makes him feel lighter and calmer and warm.

“Can we just like sit up here all day? It is so crazy down there.”

MJ hums and flicks over to the next page, still skimming. “I mean we could,” she says, neutral. “But would it really help anything?”

MJ reads the Daily Bugle and Peter is an nervous mess about returning to school after his identity is reveled to the world.

Words: 5313, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Relationships: Peter Parker/Michelle Jones, Peter & May, Peter & Ned

Read on AO3 or below line break

“Does any part of you feel relieved about all this?” Michelle is curled up on her side, the half priced Christmas twinkle lights she picked up off a dusty shelf when they went thrift shopping a few months ago hung up haphazardly behind her. They make the edges of her hair glow red and throw strange and beautiful shadows across her face. Peter is almost too distracted looking at her to register her question.

“What do you mean?” His voice quiet and questioning. His living room is completely dark – his face lit only by his phone screen where he holds is just above his chest.

MJ’s face scrunches a little and she readjusts her head on the pillow, a few stray fractals of light bouncing off the broken black dahlia necklace and painting rainbows onto the wall and ceiling. “Now that everybody knows you don’t really have to hide or lie to people.”

Peter feels his hackles rise just a little at that comment but he’s too tired and burnt out to really be upset. He feels like he’s been fighting for years even though its only been a few weeks since Beck outed him to the world. His head pulsates with the starts of a headache and he just sighs. “For the record,” despite his desire to sound neutral his voice has a bit of an edge, “I never wanted to lie to you. But how do you tell someone that you’re Spider-Man?”

MJ hums noncommittally, it’s the sound she makes when she disagrees or has strong feelings about something in particular but doesn’t feel like arguing – he’s sure it will come up later and that her opinion will probably be correct. It makes him feel thankful and pissed simultaneously but he takes a deep breath and tries to let it go. Anger seems to be his default emotion these days. Anger and frustration and a dash of hopelessness. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” MJ asks, changing the subject abruptly and Peter settles a little more firmly into the ancient couch that May picked up from one of their neighbors. It groans under him.

“Sure,” he replies with a bit of a crooked smile that he can tell doesn’t reach his eyes – the little image in the bottom of his screen that shows his reflection makes him look pale and washed out and so so tired. No wonder May had been hovering so much recently. “I’ve always wanted to try and balance being a well known vigilante while going to high school.”

MJ chuckles and gives him a fond smile. The school year technically started a few weeks ago but Peter has been on unofficial home arrest while the NYPD and FBI and the freaking UN sorted out what to do with him. The unaltered footage from EDITH along with the character witness statements and testimonials from Happy and the newly returned to Earth Nick Fury (shape-shifting aliens what the fuck?) made it clear quickly that he was innocent but just opened the door for a whole host of other problems.

Like a large portion of conspiracy theorists still saying he killed Beck and that the government was covering it up. Or the fact that his address had gotten leaked and people had camped outside with signs or support or hatred and he and May had needed to move somewhere new. Or how Ned had been accosted by a crazy Fox News journalist on his way home from school one day.

That had made Peter see red and it was only May and Happy taking his web-shooters and phone and nearly restraining him that kept him from leaving to do something he would probably (maybe) regret later.

Jimmy Woo, the FBI agent over his case, had advised him to just lay low while the local and worldwide organizations hashed everything out. Peter was still too young to sign the Sokovia Accords but they couldn’t have him running around and ‘causing untold destruction’ in other countries. And, well, the NYPD still wasn’t his biggest fan when it came to the low-to-the-ground and neighborhood problems he liked to deal with.

As it was, he was now allowed to continue being Spider-Man in New York City but he would need special permission from local governments to act anywhere else. This suited Peter just fine; he would rather not leave home anytime soon after his last ‘vacation’ and Spider-Man was a Queens hero anyway. The clock on his phone ticked over to one in the morning just as his battery bar turned red.

“Hey,” Michelle said, pulling his attention back to her. She gave him a tired smile and pulled her blanket up higher on her shoulder. “We’ll be there with you the whole time.”

“I know,” Peter whispered, fingering the stitching of the t-shirt he had stolen from his girlfriend and was wearing. It still had just a bit of her scent that he could probably only pick up due to his enhanced senses and it made his chest feel a little full. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You will,” MJ said, ending the call and leaving Peter alone. The shadows that stretched across the walls from his dim phone light looked foreboding and he stared at them until his screen went dim. He really should get up and go to bed. He should pack his book bag. He should definitely charge his phone.

Instead, Peter creeps to his room and shimmies into his suit, jumping out his window into the cool night. ———————————————

Peter crawled back through his window just before his alarm goes off at six, tired and sweaty and still freaking out a little but feeling marginally better now that some of his nervous energy was gone. May is sitting at their little kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee in her robe and looking just as exhausted as he feels. He can tell she knows that he’s been out all night but he’s thankful she chooses not to say anything as he makes his walk of shame to their cramped single bathroom to shower.

When he emerges about twenty minutes later with damp hair and layered up in his favorite flannel shirt and a plain white t-shirt May has brewed another pot of coffee and has a stack of toast and jam on the table and his heart clenches. Toast and jam has always been his go-to for mornings where his anxiety is at an all time high and his stomach is twisting and he wraps his arms around May’s shoulders from behind in a fierce hug and tucks his face into her neck like he’s a little kid again. May gives him a kiss on the temple and lets him soak in some comfort from her before she shoos him over to his seat to eat.

They both sit in silence; Peter munching on his toast and drinking black coffee full of sugar to perk him up and May nursing her own cup and staring at the wall. May’s knee bumps against his when she scoots a little closer and he can feel a little bit more of the tension leak out of him – as long as he still has her he’s okay. No matter what happens with school and Spider-Man and the Avengers he has May.

“I’m so proud of you,” May tells him a few minutes later as he’s chewing on his last piece of toast and Peter can feel the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes but he refuses to cry. He sniffs and coughs, choking on emotion and May scoots her chair over more to pull him into a hug and he just lets himself be held for a minute.

“I love you,” he tells her, leaning into the hug for just another second before pulling away. May smiles, her own eyes watery and she fidgets with his hair, smoothing out the wild curls and fixing his collar. He knows she hears everything else he’s trying to say: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t want this.

“I love you too,” she says; It’s okay, its not your fault. “I have the next week off so if you need me for anything – and I mean anything – I want you to call me okay? I’ll come get you.”

Peter nods even though he would never call her to come bail him out and goes to the sink to rinse his cup and brush the crumbs off his plate. “I know May and I will, I promise.” Liar. The knock at the door interrupts them and Peter glances at the clock; its later than he thought. May bites her lip like she’s waffling on saying more but relents and goes to answer it. He can hear her greeting MJ and Ned, can hear the brushing of clothes as she hugs them both and Peter takes just a moment for himself. He closes his eyes and takes a fortifying breath – in through his nose and out through his mouth – and straightens his spine, squares his shoulders.

He can do this.

And he’s does. He’s fine as he slinks out of his building (the first time leaving as Peter Parker since his arrest and meeting with multiple government organizations and moving) and down the steps to slide into Happy’s car with Ned and MJ on either side of him. Ned is wearing the ridiculous letterman jacket from Acadec that he spent way too much money on and MJ is wearing a dark blazer he’s never seen before but instantly loves. He would probably love everything she wore to be honest.

“Hey kid,” Happy says. He looks completely unruffled in his usual dark suit and tie but Peter can hear his heart beating faster than usual as he double and triple checks his mirrors before pulling away from the curb. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Peter says but his voice is all wrong and he clears his throat to try to get rid of the lump that’s formed there unsuccessfully. Michelle slips her hand in his and squeezes tightly and Ned presses their sides together in a quick moment of support on his other side.

Ned’s phone buzzes against Peter’s leg and he fishes it out, unlocking it and reading through the message before typing a short reply. “Flash is meeting us out front,” he says. And that, probably, had been the biggest surprise from this whole identity reveal mess but it probably shouldn’t have been. When they had come back from the blip, fifteen kids out of their class of forty-three, they had come to an understanding.

The apology and forgiveness had gone unsaid between them but, suddenly, Flash wasn’t as terrible to be around. There was still some ribbing and snarky commentary but nothing to the intensity of before. No more ‘Penis Parker’ no tripping him in the halls or pushing him into lockers like before.

If the Blip had done one thing it was reset everyone’s preconceived notions and priorities.

After Beck had released his heavily doctored video, Flash had practically beat down Ned’s door and asked how he could help. With his large Twitter, Instagram and TikTok following, he had been able to help get the word out about local protests and had been the person behind #NY❤️sSpidey and #PeterParkerisInnocent trending on twitter for multiple days.

Peter had uninstalled all social media from his phone weeks ago to protect his sanity and had basically only been texting May, MJ, Ned and Happy but he really appreciated the sentiment and had dropped in on Flash when he was in the park the other day as Spider-Man to say a quick ‘thank you’ as he patrolled. Flash had looked stunned and excited in equal measure but had offered a scoff and a fist bump that Peter gladly returned before swinging off.

“Well shit,” Happy muttered as he turned into Midtown drawing Peter out of his thoughts.

The school was a madhouse – news trucks were lining the perimeter, their cameras and newscasters being careful to not step onto school property and under close watch from the scattering of NYPD and SRO on the scene. That was fine, they had expected that.

What Peter had not expected, what no one had prepared for, was the literal mob of protestors with signs and banners and t-shirts screaming and chanting behind a series of guardrails that fringed the path up to the school. His classmates were walking up the path mostly unmolested and filming and taking pictures, some of them lingering around the front entrance or on the steps or surrounding lawn as they watched in fascination. A couple were enthusiastically talking to a cluster of cameras and reporters near the subway entrance.

“How did they know I was coming back to school today?” Peter asks, mouth and throat dry and making his voice croak.

“Someone must have slipped it,” MJ says, not sounding surprised. There had been a school wide assembly the Friday before where Principal Morita had announced Peter’s imminent return and had put some ground rules in place – don’t treat him like a zoo animal, no crowding the halls, no harassment – but Peter didn’t really expect anyone to listen. He’d had his own meeting with May and Morita via Zoom a couple weeks before to hammer out the details of his continued education at Midtown and his tardy and absence policy. The man has assured him that he would do everything he could to keep Peter’s school experience as normal as possible which had bolstered May’s confidence but Peter had known it was more of an empty promise than anything else.

“It’s fine Pete,” Ned said. “They can’t do anything to us.”

Happy met his eyes in the rear view mirror and raised a questioning brow and Peter gave a shake of his head. He wasn’t going to back out now, besides, the car had been spotted and multiple cameras were pointed in his direction and the mob was screaming and waving their signs even more aggressively now.

Happy pulled to a slow stop in front of the path and put the car in park. “I can have them removed if you want,” he offered. “Or find a back entrance? You don’t have to deal with them Pete.”

Peter looked at the crowd again and gnawed at his already ragged lip. “It’s okay. It’ll just make it worse if I try to avoid them.”

Happy muttered something about self-flagellation under his breath with a fond eye roll but didn’t fight him. “Just don’t say anything,” he advises. “Don’t look at them and don’t say anything. Just keep walking until you’re in the school okay? I’ll be here right at four-thirty to pick you up after decathlon.”

“Thanks Happy,” Peter says, trading seats with Michelle so that he’ll be the first to emerge from the car and tightening his backpack straps. He wishes he had his red and black suit with him instead of the Iron Spider in its housing units on his wrists – the weight, minuscule as it is, is always comforting on his back. He wishes he was wearing his mask. He wishes he could just be plain Peter Parker again. He takes a deep, fortifying breath and opens the door.

The angry roar of the crowd when they see him nearly deafens him and he fights the urge to cover his ears and protect his sensitive hearing. Flash materializes out of nowhere to stand staunchly at his side as MJ slips out of the car, clearly nervous but ignoring the mass of people and grabbing his hand. “Nice hair Eugene,” she teases as Ned joins them and closes the door. Flash rolls his eyes at her and pushes his shockingly blonde fringe out of his eyes.

“You wish you could pull this off,” he offers in response and her smile becomes more genuine at the ribbing.

“Maybe red,” she muses, adjusting her own bag on her shoulder before she starts to walk up the sidewalk.

The path is only wide enough for them to walk two by two and MJ pulls him closer and holds his hand tighter as they face the school. Peter tries to ignore the signs and screams as he walks resolutely toward the door but he can’t completely block them out, especially after seeing a blown up copy of his year book photo with devil horns calling him a murderer. The woman holding it, wearing a t-shirt with a similar message and a button with Mysterio’s helmet on it, spews even more vitriol when she sees him look her direction. Her face is red and angry and Peter redirects his attention back to the school.

His classmates crowd the stairs and most of them have their phones out to livestream him coming to school. He feels like a bug pinned under glass and he can feel his breath speed up in his chest but he tries not to show it. Ben had always told him that he was an open book and that anyone could read his every thought on his face. It had been funny back then but now Peter just wishes that it was anything but true.

It, unfortunately, doesn’t get any better inside. The halls are lined with curious teenagers and teachers alike who all watch him walk down the hall and film him and get way too close for comfort. Morita had told him that he can’t, technically, enforce the no phone rule before school officially starts for the day and after it ends so Peter will have to deal with it.

His locker is also, unfortunately, down a completely different hall than Ned, MJ and Flash’s so they have to separate if they plan on being on time for home room. He’ll meet Ned there but he won’t see the other two until second period and he has first period, APUSH, completely alone. It’s almost enough to send him over the edge.

“I can walk with you,” Ned offers, adjusting his bag but Peter just shakes his head. He can do this. He has to do this.

The heckling gets worse once the others leave and his classmates get bolder – pushing into his space and taking selfies with him and asking invasive questions. He’s never been popular and he’s always been ignored and its just getting to be too much but at least he understands why some celebrities go off the deep end and straight up punch paparazzi now.

He makes quick work of getting his locker open and stowing his extra notebooks and gym bag before hassling in the direction of his home room. Ned meets up with him halfway there, a little out of breath from clearly rushing to meet him and pushing through the crowd, and the groupies back off a little once he’s around and forming a barrier between them and Peter. Ms. Warren glances at them from her desk when they enter and her eyes linger on Peter a little longer than normal but she otherwise ignores them and Peter feels honestly faint in relief.

“Dude,” Ned tells him as he slips into the seat to Peter’s right at the scratched up black lab table. Peter groans and drops his head onto his crossed arms, not really knowing how to respond. “At least you have Dell for APUSH – he won’t put up with any shit in his class.”

“Yeah,” Peter responds. “Lucky.”

Ned winces and goes to say something else but the bell rings and the school morning newscast starts playing on the TV. Ms. Warren turns it up just as Betty Brant says “This morning our very own Midtown Avenger joined us back in classes. In case you missed it, Jason and I were live on the scene for his-,”

Peter crammed his headphones in and turned on the white noise to drown out the sound of the newscast and pointedly ignored Ned’s sympathetic looks and Ms. Warren who looked at his headphones in blatant disapproval but didn’t ask him to take them out. Thank God.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he peeked at the message coming through – a single eye rolling emoji from MJ followed by Must be a slow news day. He smiled despite himself and tucked the phone back away just as the bell rang.

His first class alone was a nightmare – Mr. Dell had assigned them all seats and had put Peter front and center in what was, probably, an effort to keep his classmates for hassling him too much and keep everyone’s attention on what he was teaching and not on Peter. It didn’t really work since people kept taking sneaky Snapchat pictures and videos of him under their desks when Mr. Dell’s back was turned. Peter set his jaw and tried to ignore it but he knew he would have to borrow Ned’s notes if he even hoped at passing the class.

His AP English class was a little better since he had both Ned and MJ with him but Mr. Harrington who was, arguably, his favorite teacher and one that had, apparently, really gone to bat for him against the PTO and school board so that he could keep his scholarship and go to school, was a little oblivious. His classmates were even more bold and blatant and he was clenching his jaw so much he thought his teeth might break.

“Come with me,” MJ said, pulling him out of his desk right as the bell rang and rushing out the door.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked, stumbling after her as she pulled him toward one of the stock rooms, pushing him in and closing and locking the door behind them.

“To the roof,” she answered, standing on an overturned bucket to open up the small window. Peter blinked in surprise.

“But you have art this hour.”

“And you have a free period,” MJ said like it was obvious, hopping off the bucket and herding him to the window. “Ms. Goode loves me anyway so she won’t care if I miss a class. Hurry up and get sticky.”

Peter let out a bark of a laugh and climbed up the wall, pulling Michelle through the window after him and carefully avoiding the classrooms and front of the building until they reached the roof. The sun was bright and warm on his skin and he laid on his back just reveling in the silence. “This is nice,” he said, catching the book MJ dropped before it hit his stomach without opening his eyes and positioning it behind his head as a pillow. She settled in next to him, rustling with some paper and he cracked open one eye to glance at her. “What is that?”

“The Daily Bugle,” she answered, flicking through a couple pages and skimming the words, ignoring as Peter choked on his own saliva and fell into a coughing fit.

“You’re actually reading that garbage? You know what they’re saying about me right? Jameson keeps calling me a ‘Spider-Menace like that even makes sense-.”

“It’s actually pretty hilarious,” she said interrupting his tirade and stopping her flicking to read through a page. “Oh look at this, this is a good one: ‘Some suggest that Parker’s powers include the male spider’s ability to hypnotize females.”

“Stop, c’mon,” Peter says back, slightly irritated at her teasing.

“Yes my Spider-Lord,” MJ says, dropping her voice in pitch and, against his will he starts chuckling. It makes him feel lighter and calmer and warm.

“Can we just like sit up here all day? It is so crazy down there.”

MJ hums and flicks over to the next page, still skimming. “I mean we could,” she says, neutral. “But would it really help anything?”

Peter sighs and flops over on his stomach to beat his head gently into the book. “Probably not.” His stomach growls and he sighs – at least lunch is next. MJ’s hand skims down his neck to sit in the small of his back.

“I can think of something that could take your mind off it,” she says lightly and Peter feels his cheeks heat just a little but rolls his head over to smirk at her.

“Do tell.”

She gives him a little smile of her own before poking him until he moves enough for her to perch on his lap. He curls block out the sun and she’s at just the perfect height for him to lean forward and pull her into kiss.

They slip back into the window of the stock room just before the bell rings to end third period with their lips swollen and their hair a little more messy than it was before but with bright smiles and less tense muscles. Peter keeps his ear to the door and waits for the hallway to clear before they slip out and make their way to the lunch room.

Both of them had brought lunch so it was easier to creep in unnoticed through the side door and join Ned and Flash in the back corner of the cafeteria. It didn’t take too long before their classmates started murmuring and pointing and, despite the numerous warnings from various administrators and the fact that five of the sophomore level teachers were seated at their own table near the front of the room, many of the students took notice of their sudden appearance and were attempting to take surreptitious pictures and videos of them on phones hidden under tables and halfway in hoodie pockets. Peter felt his ears turn red as he ducked his head closer to the table and nearly into his sandwich. MJ glared at the table closest to them and the few girls seated there at least had the decency to look ashamed though they didn’t tuck their phones away.

“So this is fun,” Flash muttered as he picked at the flavorless and congealed school spaghetti on his tray. His normal table of friends and groupies were seated a few tables away and looking at him with jealously. Awkward silence followed his deadpan grumbling and Peter shifted uncomfortably.

Michelle rolled her eyes and snorted indelicately before glancing at Peter with clear mischief in her eyes and slapping her copy of the Daily Bugle on the table before flipping it open to a page she had earmarked. Peter groaned and dropped his head to thunk on the table dramatically as MJ said “ Did you know that Peter can hypnotize females with his spider powers?”

Ned snorted so abruptly some of the water he was drinking dribbled out his nose causing him to cough and gag and Flash to thump him on the back. “Oh my God,” Ned said reverently, touching the gossip rag and cradling it like it was special as his eyes darted across the page. “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen. I need to get this framed!”

Peter whined and thumped his head on the table a few more times. “Yo Parker, this says you lay eggs,” Flash pointed out, skimming the edge of the page where a bullet pointed lists of ‘Fun Facts!’ were.

“I don’t lay eggs!” Peter groaned out in dismay, giving MJ his best betrayed look. She ignored his misery as she gleefully looked at the paper upside down to read the other inaccurate facts listed about him. “This is abuse,” he muttered, trying to pull the paper away from Ned but failing as his friend dodged and Flash batted his hands away.

“Does your ability to hypnotize only work on females? What exactly is the process?” Ned teased, voice shaking in mirth. “Wait! Wait what do you make them call you? Master of the Spiders? Arachnid King?”

“Spider Lord,” MJ provided with a shit-eating grin that had Flash and Ned sputtering with laughter and drawing even more attention their way.

“Oh come on,” Peter begged. “Don’t let anyone hear you or they’ll believe it!”

“Of course Spider Lord,” Flash intoned with barely concealed glee causing Ned and MJ to cackle more.

“You’re all the worst,” Peter told them without heat. To be honest this was the best he had felt all day – he hardly noticed the extra stares and muttering anymore. The bell announcing the end of their lunch rang and he hurried to cram the rest of his sandwich in his mouth as quickly as possible; they all had to hurry since they had gym and had to change before the tardy bell rang in ten minutes.

The heckling continued up until they split off to enter different locker rooms and Peter abruptly clenched his jaw as he realized the majority of his class was not only early to class to change but also waiting in the locker room and looking busy while they waited for him. Ned shot him a wince as he ducked into one of the stalls to change. Peter could feel the eyes following him as he did the same.

“Come on Parker,” he told himself as he took a few moments to center himself. “It’s just gym. You’ve done it a hundred times. This time’s no different.” He took as much time as possible to change, only sneaking out just before the bell rang and the majority of the room emptied.

MJ had saved them seats a bit away from the rest of the class and Peter squeezed between her and Ned, taking her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. Coach Wilson, looking particularly bored, was lugging a couple bags of foam balls from the locked equipment closet and Peter felt his stomach turn with dread. He detested dodgeball.

“You know the drill,” Coach Wilson drowned from the middle of the court. “Split in half, game starts on my whistle. Not you Parker,” he called over the din of talking and scuffing tennis shoes. “New PTA rules – you can watch and do individual work but no more team or contact sports.”

Peter felt his face flush again as he lowered himself back into his seat as the class broke out into louder conversations around him. Ned clapped him on the shoulder and said “Don’t worry about it man,” and Peter opened his mouth with the intent to thank or reassure his friend that he was okay but Ned, taking advantage and wearing a smirk, loudly went directly for the kill. “Besides, its unbecoming of a Spider Lord to comport himself like one of us mere plebes.”

Flash promptly tripped down the stairs and barely caught himself from falling on his face and breaking his nose on the floor, MJ had to sit back down to get herself under control as the rest of their class just stared at them with confused looks on their faces.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Peter told Ned seriously causing his friends to break out into laughter again. If you can’t beat ‘em right?

“You’ve been an awfully good sport about this,” MJ told him later, leaning against a neighboring locker as he packed his bag and grabbed his decathlon binder. He shot her a questioning glance as he zipped up his bag. “The Spider Lord thing. It doesn’t actually bother you right? Because Ned already changed your name in the group chat and I’d hate to hurt his feelings by changing it again.”

“No its fine,” Peter reassured her. “It’s a little funny.” He slammed his locker shut and took her hand, “We’re going to be late Captain,” he told her, walking in the direction of the library. And maybe it didn’t bother him but it didn’t stop the wheels from turning. The attention rankled and he just wanted to go back to being Peter Parker again, to be completely anonymous.

He may know a guy who could help with that – it would only take a quick trip to Bleeker Street.

#spiderman #identityrevealbingo2021 #no way home #nwh spoilers #writing prompt #spideychelle #spider lord #that feel when your friends roast you #but in a good way

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teshamerkel · 3 years

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 8] (17 Pages)

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Nia and Tobias officially form their Seekers team and run into a Pokemon familiar to the both of them. Nia is thrilled about this development. Tobias? Not so much.

Nia can hardly believe this is happening. She’s part of a Seekers team now, and one with Tobias at that! The charmander leads her back out of the tunnels, stopping only briefly at a shallow pool of water emerging from the cave wall at a bend.

“You need to wash off your mouth,” he explains, pointing at her bloodied nose. “If we go back with you looking like you mauled someone, Maggie’s definitely going to have questions.”

Nia uses the cool, clear water to gently scrub the dried blood off her face, biting back a whimper at how sore her nose feels. When she’s done, she sniffs and turns to Tobias. He tilts his head and scrunches up his nose.

“I think you’re good, but clean up your fur a bit. You’re all ruffled.”

Nia almost laughs. What is he all of a sudden, her mom?

Mom.

A lance of pain shoots through her chest. She gasps, pausing in the middle of smoothing her fur as tears spring to her eyes. Mom. When she thinks the word, her heart definitely reacts to someone, almost drowning her in a wave of sorrow and longing. But she can’t place a face, can’t remember anything about her mother other than the fact that she must love her dearly.

“Uh.” Tobias is giving her a weirded-out look.

Nia opens her mouth to explain, but doesn’t want to risk the charmander just scoffing something cruel at her. Not when she’s suddenly feeling this off-balance.

“I-It’s nothing,” she mumbles, hurriedly wiping her eyes and going back to cleaning herself up. Tobias doesn’t push, rubbing at the scuffs on his own skin. Within a few minutes, they look at each other, deeming themselves satisfactory. At least they don’t look like they just…well, fought through a mystery dungeon.

The two exit the cave and climb the staircase, up and up to the medical floor. Nia’s exhausted. Why does it have to be so close to the top? From the openings in the guild walls and the few Pokémon they pass who look like they just returned from their own missions, Nia realizes that the sun has already set, dusk painting the forest in shades of gray and purple. With how tired she feels, aches in her muscles and feet tripping over themselves more than usual, she feels like it should be midnight.

“If Maggie asks, I was showing you around the forest and that’s how we got all scratched up,” Tobias says.

“Do we have to lie to her?” Nia asks, already feeling guilty about it.

Tobias doesn’t answer for a moment. “Well, we can’t tell her the truth. She’ll freak out and probably have to tell August. No use in making her upset or getting us suspended before our first day.”

Nia supposes he’s right, but she still doesn’t like it.

When they reach their quarters, the older Pokémon is nowhere to be seen. Tobias walks over to the tiny alcove where Nia’s spotted a few berries stashed before, and pulls out an apple, taking it with him as he walks back to his nest.

Nia’s stomach rumbles. She eyes the cabinet, debating. Could...could she grab one too? This isn’t really her quarters, but Maggie did tell her to make herself at home. Nia hesitantly opens the cabinet and grabs an apple of her own, glancing at Tobias and relaxing when he doesn’t even look her way. She feels like a friend at a sleepover too afraid to ask for a snack!

Nia shuffles past the charmander to grab a book from her stack and sets her new scarf beside her bed. Then, she returns to the main area where there’s more light to curl up and read.

That’s how Maggie finds them a bit later, a smile touching her face as she catches sight of them co-existing peacefully in one room. “There you are! I’ve been wondering where you two went today.”

Nia snaps out of her reading and feels her ears pin back. “S-sorry, we, uh—“

“I was showing her around the forest,” Tobias cuts in.

“Well, next time tell an old woman if you’re heading out, all right? I was starting to get worried.”

Nia nods and Tobias grumbles, “Fine.”

Maggie opens her mouth to say something else, but pauses, leaning closer to squint at the two younger Pokémon. “How in Virizion’s name did you get all scratched up?”

Nia freezes and prays that Tobias will answer. After a moment he does, rolling his eyes and jabbing a thumb at Nia. “Genius here got stuck in a huge bramble patch. Only found one oran berry to patch us up.”

For a heartbeat, Maggie doesn’t look entirely convinced. But then she smiles, leaning back. “Well, I’m glad to see you’re being civil with each other, at least.” She turns to arrange a few items on her desk, casually asking, “So did you two talk about anything interesting?”

Subtle, Maggie. Nia fights back a smile. “Y-Yeah. He said yes.”

“Oh! Good, good!”

Tobias shoots Nia a confused look, so she answers, “I-I wasn’t sure I was cut out to be a Seeker, or if you’d accept. So I asked Maggie’s opinion before talking to you about it.”

Maggie turns back to the two of them with a wide, pleased smile. “I’m happy it all worked out. Have you chosen a team name yet?”

“I don’t really care as long as it isn’t stupid,” Tobias grumbles, shooting Nia a pointed look. She ducks into herself, embarrassed all over again.

“No, we haven’t.”

“That’s fine! You have some time. You look like you’re about to fall asleep on your feet, though, and I suppose you have a big day tomorrow. Why don’t you both get some rest?”

Right on cue, Nia yawns, taking her advice and turning to go to the nests. She pauses to look back when she hears Maggie murmur, “Just a moment, Tobias.”

The meganium reaches out her vines to gently grab the charmander’s shoulders, an unbearably loving look on her face. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, craning her head down to touch her snout to the top of the charmander’s head. Nia expects him to wrench away, yelling. Instead he leans forward to hug her leg, just for a moment.

Nia suddenly feels like she’s intruding on something special, and hurriedly makes her way back to her nest. She settles down into it as quietly as she can, already feeling sleep drawing heavy at her eyes. A nest of soft straw and leaves isn’t the comfiest bed in the world, but right now it feels like heaven. Shortly after, Tobias follows and curls up in his own nest for the night.

“So any name ideas that aren’t awful?” He asks, yawning. Nia takes a second to admire his sharp teeth and blue-gray tongue. Is that from breathing fire? Or because he’s sort of like a lizard?

“N-No, not really.”

“Well, get thinking. We need a cool one by tomorrow morning when we go to register.”

Nia doesn’t answer, looking up at the ceiling as silence descends on the two of them. Within a few minutes, Maggie covers up the window and the brightest crystals in the room with leaf shades, leaving the space almost entirely dark aside from Tobias’ flickering tail.

Names, huh? Didn’t Nia used to have something that would help her with that? Something that she could look up information on, a small device or something? Oh! A phone. Yeah. Man, what she wouldn’t give to have a phone and some service right now. Maybe then she could do some Googling on the Pokémon world, see if any human has a clue about these amazing creatures.

Heck, maybe she could even call her family.

Nia feels a lump in her throat, tears springing hot and wet to her eyes. God, she doesn’t remember them, not really, but her heart sure does. It aches. Feels heavy and painful in her chest, like it might physically be tearing in half. In all of the excitement today, she’d almost forgotten the end goal of her agreement to partner up with Tobias. She needs to get home. As amazing as this world is, she knows she has people waiting for her. A life to return to.

Nia forcibly calms her breathing and tries to think of something else before she starts crying. Team names. What could their team name be? It needs to be something good. Something that Tobias won’t argue with. She’s exhausted, but she rolls over onto her belly, grabbing her stack of books and dragging them closer. She eyes Tobias, making sure he’s asleep before scooching closer to his tail flame for light. Let’s see here...ah! There!

Nia pulls out the book of important historical figures that she adopted her own name from. There has to be a section for Seeker teams, right? Maybe she just needs some inspiration. Or at least to see what a “normal” team name would be. She flips through until she reaches a section detailing Seeker teams and members who apparently made a huge impact on the Pokémon world.

Team Bloom was a group of grass types who were the first mono-type team to reach platinum rank. Hm. Okay. Team Poppy started with a...simisear and an electrode? Were they red Pokémon, maybe? Or maybe they just really liked flowers. Team Adventure was the first team to discover a place called the Crystal Cavern in the Arabalis Mountain Range...Team Ellis was created by two Pokémon named Elliana and Kris, so personal names aren’t out of the running either. Team Ignite, Team Blue Sky, Team PokePals, Team Hawthorne, Team Maximum, Team Flying Fury...

Okay, Nia thinks she sees the pattern here. So something that sounds good with Team and is fairly succinct. Something that describes the two of them in some way, or maybe their goals. Nia quietly closes the book and pushes the stack against the wall. She checks to make sure she didn’t wake Tobias (not that he’d be quiet about it if she did) before curling back up in her own nest.

Names, names, names...

She’s asleep before she can think of a single one.

__________________________________________________

“Hey, wake up!”

Someone shakes her, and she buries her head further into bed, huffing. She’s warm and sleepy and getting up sounds like the last thing she wants to do.

“C’mon, we have to go get registered!”

Now recognizing Tobias’ voice, hushed but impatient, she finally opens her eyes as he shakes her harder.

“‘M awake,” she mumbles, trying to sit up. Tobias is crouched at her side, looking entirely too alert for how early it feels.

“We’ve got a lot to do today, and I’m not gonna let you laze around and sleep all morning.” He rushes out of their little alcove, and as Nia yawns and stumbles to hurry after him, she realizes the crystals of their dim room are still covered. The few patches of the walls and ceiling open to the sky are black as night. No wonder she’s so tired! How early is it?

“What time is it?” Nia asks, rubbing at her eyes and following Tobias’ tail flame to the doorway of the room.

“Shh. Maggie’s still sleeping,” he whispers back.

Nia blinks and nods, following him as they walk into the hall. Even with the dim lighting of the luminescent leaves and crystals, she’s grateful for Tobias’ flame, easily giving them a halo of light to see where they’re going. Plus, it’s slightly warmer near him. The night air is a bit chilly even through her fur.

The charmander leads them out of the medical ward and down the staircase without any other preamble, and Nia doesn’t question it. She just appreciates that the walk gives her time to wake up and smooth the worst ruffles out of her pelt. They spiral down further and further until they must be near the bottom of the guild, and they still haven’t passed another Pokémon on the way.

“How early is it?” Nia asks again, whisper sounding loud in the stillness.

“A little before dawn. We need to get an early start today.”

Soon enough they reach what must be one of the last floors before going underground. They follow it inward just as the sky outside appears to be lightening to a pale blue-gray. The floor is mostly dark aside from a few crystals, but Tobias quickly leads them past a few smaller rooms where Pokémon are beginning to stir and move about.

“What floor is this?”

Tobias glances back at her with disgruntled expression, like he wishes she'd shut up. “Administration area.”

Nia doesn’t ask any more questions, looking around as Tobias leads them to a particular room. Once or twice he looks like he’s not sure where he’s going, but Nia certainly isn’t going to question him aloud. Finally, they reach a doorway lit up brighter than most they’d passed. Tobias knocks on the door frame before entering.

A cutesy plant Pokemon sits at the desk inside, using slender white hands to write information down onto a stack of papers. She looks oddly human, but with large pink eyes and “hair” made of two long leaves and a stem. She glances up with a bright smile as Nia and Tobias enter, but it falters as she sees the charmander.

“Oh! Hello, Tobias,” the Pokemon chirps, clearly surprised despite her impressive Customer Service Voice. “What’re you doing here?”

“We need to register as a Seeker team,” The charmander answers, stopping in front of the Pokémon’s desk and sounding maybe the smallest bit proud.

The plant girl blinks first at Tobias, and then at Nia. The riolu takes her focus off of the luminescent vines and leaves lighting up the room to smile at her.

“Hi,” she says, offering an awkward wave. “I’m Nia.”

“O-Oh! Yes, the human staying with Maggie. Pleasure to meet you. I’m Riley. So…you two are creating a Seeker team together?” Riley asks, dainty hands folding over her desk, not moving to grab a form or anything. Instead, she gives Nia a worried look. “You realize you will be partners in almost every sense of the word, right? It won’t be easy.”

Nia gets the feeling that Riley isn’t talking about the job itself and more the difficulties associated with her partner.

Before she can respond, the charmander growls, “I didn’t force her to make a team with me.”

He looks like he’s barely holding himself back from lunging over the desk to claw at the flowery Pokemon, and for once Nia can’t really blame him. The implications make Nia bristle a bit too. Sure, she’s a bit of a pushover sometimes, but it’s not like anyone could force her into this big of a decision!

“It was my idea, actually,” she says, trying to sound confident. She’s just glad she doesn’t stutter.

Riley looks away, face tinging a soft pink. Good, she should be embarrassed after that rude comment. “Y-Yes. Apologies. Hold on a moment.”

As Riley searches through the forms, gathering the correct ones, Tobias turns to Nia, clearly still miffed but trying to move things along. “Did you think of a team name?”

Nia winces. Oops. She’d forgotten to think about it on the way down this morning. “W-Well, I looked up some famous teams last night, but…do you have any ideas?”

Tobias rolls his eyes. “I told you I don’t care as long as it’s not dumb like the name you gave that teddiursa. You don’t have anything?”

Nia glances around, skimming past the glowing vines lining the room and landing on Tobias’ tail flame. “Uh...something with fire, maybe? Like team Spark, or Team Ember?”

“Original,” Tobias scoffs. “Besides, you’re not a fire type.”

Nia wrings her hands, thinking. They’re both pretty new at this, and they do live in a giant tree. “T-Team Sprout? Team Sapling?”

“Even less original. We aren’t sudowoodo.”

Nia doesn’t know what that means, but she can sense an insult when she hears one.

“Team Sunset?”

Tobias tilts his head at her, frowning.

“Well, you’re orange and I’m blue, so kinda like the sky?”

Tobias shakes his head.

Nia huffs out a breath. “Uh...” what’s something that they have in common? She tries to come up with something (surely there’s something!), but other than fighting in a dungeon illegally? Not much comes to mind.

“T-Team Cherry?” Nia suggests with an edge of desperation, thinking of that first day in the cafeteria and the soup miscommunication.

Tobias snorts. “More like Team Disaster.”

Nia isn’t sure whether she should laugh or be mad. “You could help, you know.”

“I am!”

Nia sighs, rubbing at her temples. This is a good start for their team. Okay, what’s something that’s important to both of them? Maggie? Team Magnolia? God, no, that makes it sound like she’s dead.

Nia looks up again, and pauses as she catches sight of Tobias’ red scarf. It’s definitely worn, a little dingy, but the charmander never takes it off. Not to sleep, not to fight or eat. She’s seen him tug at the scarf or scratch under it when he seems nervous or irritated, too.

“Is your scarf important to you?” She asks.

Tobias reaches up to grab it, leaning back as if Nia’s about to snatch it from him. “Why?”

Protective. Definitely significant to him. “I thought maybe we could make a team name with the color red. If it’s that important to you.”

For the first time since she has started listing off name ideas, Tobias looks interested. He rubs the scarf between his fingers.

“I could get a scarf or something to match, too,” Nia offers. She’d seen a few teams pass by with matching or coordinated team items, like scarves and bands dyed the same color. It looked nice.

Tobias doesn’t respond for a moment. “So...what? Team Red?”

“I-I was thinking more like Team Crimson? Or Vermillion?”

Tobias hums, apparently not absolutely hating her proposition for once. “Team Ruby?”

“I kind of like that one!”

They pause in thought for a few more moments, before Nia remembers one more catchy shade of red. “Team Scarlet?”

“Scarlet,” Tobias echoes, rolling the name around in his mouth. “Team Scarlet.”

“You like it?”

To Nia’s surprise, he nods, a hint of a smile on his lips. He looks ready to go again, determined once more. It’s nice, having the critical Pokemon look so approving of her for once. “Team Scarlet. Yeah, that doesn’t sound too bad. You got that, Riley?”

They turn back to the plant Pokemon and she jumps, having clearly checked out somewhere in the middle of their discussion. “Yes!”

Riley fills in the form, scratching an inky twig against the paper’s surface. Occasionally she asks one or both of them a question, but in the end they don’t have to do much aside from sign their names. Nia’s signature is incredibly messy, seeing as she’s still not used to writing with paws instead of human hands, but she also realizes she’s not used to writing at all in the rune-like language. She’s only read it in books. She still wonders how that all works, how she can read and roughly write in a language not at all her own.

“Well, you two are good to go!” Riley says, stamping the bottom of the sheet. She motions for them to put their arms up on the desk, stamping their hands as well. “Just go down a floor to the item dispensary and look for Rainer. You know him, right? Politoed?”

“Yeah,” Tobias says, already turning to leave. Nia hurries after him, debating on thanking Riley before she goes. She was kind of a jerk, though, so Nia just gives her a halfhearted wave on their way out.

Nia follows Tobias down the corridors to the staircase, looking at the top of her hand in the morning light. It’s a simple, inky emblem stamped onto her fur, just a bit smudged. It looks like...a little egg, maybe? Or a capsule? With wings on the sides of it. A badge, maybe?

Before she can ask, they’re heading downstairs and immediately turning into a hallway, then to a gathering area. This space is more open, with different “booths” lining the walls and a stall in the middle of the room. There are a few Pokémon at each station, chatting or moving goods about; Nia’s pretty sure they’re Seeker teams, maybe packing up for missions. They approach particular booths in groups of two to four, a bag looped around one of their shoulders as they order and exchange goods. Or buy them, maybe? She hasn’t exactly asked how this works.

Tobias pauses, looking around before setting off for a booth. An adorable, bright green frog with rosy cheeks sits behind the counter, shuffling through some slips of cloth.

“Hey, Rainer,” Tobias greets as they reach the counter, peering over the edge. “We’re a new Seeker team. This is where we go, right?”

Rainer, presumably, looks down at the two of them, breaking into a wide smile. “Sure is! Need the basic package?”

“I guess,” Tobias says, shrugging.

“Stamps?”

Nia and Tobias push their hands forward, and Rainer nods. “Good! Give me just a second.”

The frog turns and shuffles through his chests and shelves of goods, humming cheerily all the while. “So what name did you two go with?”

“Team Scarlet,” Tobias replies, sounding more sure of the name as he repeats it. Nia feels a bit proud.

“Mm. I like it! Tobias, I’m guessing you’ll want to keep your scarf, right?”

Tobias’ hands drift up towards his neck again. “Yeah.”

“Will you be needing one, Riolu?”

Nia opens her mouth to say yes, before suddenly remembering the attack scarf they’d found yesterday in the mystery dungeon. She’d put it right by her bed so she wouldn’t forget to wear it, but she’d managed to do so anyways. She remembers Maggie mentioning someone in the guild who could dye accessories, so she thinks she could just have that changed to a matching scarlet red later.

“N-No thank you,” she says. “I have something back in Maggie’s room to use.”

Rainer just nods, entire body bouncing as he pushes a small satchel over the counter. “Good, good! In that case, I have you all packed up for your first mission tomorrow. Your badges are inside with a manual explaining how they work, so be sure to read up on that. You two go talk to Azami next, and be safe out there!”

Tobias grabs the bag and turns to go, Nia giving Rainer a word of thanks before rushing to follow. The charmander leads them towards the stairway, and Nia hurries to catch up to his brisk stride. At least his legs are shorter than hers.

“S-So what did he mean by ‘tomorrow?’ Are we not going on a mission today?”

Tobias sighs. “No, we have to wait. It’s mandatory for new Seeker teams to have a day of assessment first, to test their skills and knowledge, assign a trainer, and point out what the team members need to work on.”

Nia feels nerves flutter in her stomach. That sounds like quite the test. “C-Can you, uh...fail?”

The charmander snorts, voice lowering. “We won’t fail if we managed to beat a D-rank dungeon right off the bat. We’ll be fine.”

Nia feels less sure of herself, anxiety already bearing down on her. But she perks up when she sees a familiar face near the staircase. “Oh, hey! It’s Xander!” She waves at the blue and black lion Pokémon. When he notices her, he smiles, walking their way.

“Ugh. You know him?” Tobias growls, curling up his lip like the luxio’s presence alone is enough to make him sick. Nia doesn’t know why she’s so shocked by the reaction at this point.

“What? He seems really nice!”

Tobias rolls his eyes. “He’s an annoying goody-goody is what he is. Thinks he’s better than everyone.”

Nia frowns. That wasn’t the vibe she’d gotten from him at all.

“Nia! I’m surprised to see you down here.” Xander’s all warm smiles as he greets her, but when he turns to Tobias, his expression hardens. “Tobias.”

“Xander.”

The tension in the air is thick, but before any of them can speak, a graceful, bipedal Pokémon steps up next to Xander, looking curiously at Nia and Tobias with a gentle smile. They’re all delicacy and long legs, like a ballerina, green and white with startling red eyes. They remind Nia of a smaller Alistair, the gardevoir in the archives.

“Hello. I don’t believe we’ve met,” the new Pokémon says, voice incredibly soft. It’s almost hard to hear them in the open room. “I’m Avery, one of Xander’s partners.”

“I-I’m Nia,” the riolu says, torn between bowing and jutting out a hand to offer a handshake. She’s still not entirely sure which is expected in the Pokemon world. Avery has hands, so probably a handshake?

Avery laughs at Nia’s fumbling, a quiet but charming sound, and Nia feels herself blush under her fur. “It’s a pleasure meeting you. My father had some very kind things to say about you after your visit to the archives, and Xander mentioned running into you the other day.”

“Literally,” Xander adds with a small smile, looking visibly relaxed by Avery’s presence. “So what are you two doing here so early? Maggie roll you out of bed?”

“We’re forming a Seeker team,” Tobias says, crossing his arms and glaring at the luxio defiantly.

Xander’s ears perk up, star-tipped tail ceasing its casual flicking. “A Seeker team?” He sounds almost worried, gaze flicking over to Nia, and she hurries to speak up before Tobias can light the lion on fire.

“I-It was my idea! We both have reasons for wanting to join one, and, well, we already kind of know each other, so...”

That’s not 100% the true reasoning, and she suspects that Xander knows that, but the luxio doesn’t say anything else. Before anyone can respond, a blue-gray turtle appears on Xander’s other side, slinging an arm around his neck. “Yo! We’ve got the supplies, cap. Ready to go? Kry is itching to leave.”

The turtle notices Nia and Tobias, fluffy ears twitching as he offers a casual grin. “Hey. Sorry for interrupting. You Nia, I’m guessing?”

“Oh! Y-Yes, that’s me.” By this point she really shouldn’t be surprised every time a stranger knows her by name.

“I’m Felix. Been with this guy—“ here he takes a moment to jostle Xander. “Since the good old days.”

“The ‘good old days’?” Xander asks, amused. “We aren’t that old.”

“Eh, old enough. I know I sure could use a nap. Just wanted to let you know we’re ready when you are. See ya ‘round, Nia.”

Nia’s caught off-guard by the wink the turtle leaves with, once again feeling hot under her fur. What—did he just?

“Don’t worry about him. Felix is harmless,” Xander huffs. “A lazy flirt, but harmless.“

Nia nods, unsure of how to respond.

“I’d better go calm Kry down,” Avery says, fondly. They turn with a gentle touch to Xander’s shoulder and a wave to Tobias and Nia. “Good luck, you two.”

Xander watches the graceful Pokémon leave, and Nia fights back a smile at the warmth in the luxio’s expression. She doesn’t want to assume anything, but wow does he look the definition of lovestruck.

“I’d better go too,” Xander says, shaking himself out of his spell. He looks back to Nia. “You let me know if you need help with anything, okay?”

Nia nods, grateful. “Thank you.”

Xander’s piercing eyes turns to Tobias, and when he speaks, it sounds less like advice and more like a threat. “Be careful. Watch each other’s backs.”

Tobias scowls in return, not breaking eye contact as Xander turns and heads back to the staircase, where Avery and Felix wait beside a stocky gray dinosaur (dragon?) Pokémon with a green helmet and two tusks jutting from the sides of its mouth. They’re all wearing gold-colored cloths or bands on some part of their bodies, and Felix hefts a satchel larger than Nia herself up onto his shoulder before the group leaves.

“I hate that guy,” Tobias grumbles, white smoke puffing from his nostrils. Nia shifts uncomfortably. She doesn’t want to argue with her new, explosive partner before they even begin their first day, but she really likes Xander. He’s nice and he reminds her of someone that makes her feel calm and safe. Maybe from her human life?

“S-So where do we go next?” Nia asks, hoping to change the topic.

Tobias smirks, and Nia knows she’s going to hate whatever he says next. “The training floor for our combat assessment.”

Nia bites back a groan, already imagining how many ways she’s going to embarrass herself.

This won’t be good.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #pokemon #luxio #charmander #riolu #pmd seekers of soul #tesha writes #tesha draws

128 notes · View notes

alittleprincehwa · 4 years

Text

ateez reaction ₊˚.ੈ♡˳ they spend a sunday morning with you

alexa play ₊˚.ੈ♡˳ sweet night by kim taehyung

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ kim hongjoong

⟶ the sound of birds chirping was what woke you up, your constant tries of sleeping back showed no success. You opened one eye and see a still hongjoong deep in his slumber. Your hand that was originally on the pillow was now ruffling his blueberry colored locks. You pushed the excess hair away from his features. Your hand continues trailing over his face.

His eye bags are caused by staying up too much. His lips that were slightly dry at the lack of hydration, again, caused by the number of hours he stayed up. He felt your familiar hand graze over him. He groans in response to it. But a soft and hum-like groan. Not long after you felt his hand hold yours. He brought yours near his lips and kissed it, “ Isn't it too early to be up, darling? “. You let out a small laugh. Before the lad woke up, you took a small look at the clock and see it was already past noon.

“ Love, it's already past noon. “ You giggle. He gives a look of disbelief and turns his head to the ticking clock. You heard a sigh of defeat as he turns back to you. You both broke down in giggles. The smile on his face widens, even more, when he saw your smile. He took out his phone that was resting on the bedside table and ordered some take out. You observed him. How his eyes narrow down to read the words, his nose scrunching up as if he doesn't know what to order. He takes a deep breath and puts his phone back. His usual smile appears again and pulls you to him.

Both of you just end up spending the entire day in bed.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ park seonghwa

⟶ he quietly chuckles seeing your sleeping figure silently snoring. The arm that was wrapped around you, pulled you closer into his bare chest. He hums into your bare nape, his hand crept under your shirt and rested on your bare stomach. He gently caressed the bare skin, waking you up. You tussle and turn, the sheets shifting. You stopped when your sleepy eyes caught a glimpse of seonghwa.

Like you, his eyes were still semi closed. Nose and cheeks slightly red at the temperature and the lack of clothing he had. But hey who were we to complain?

“ Morning, sunshine. “ He spoke in a deep satoori accent. “ Why don't we cook something, hm? “ He said, removing the sheets that were covering his lower body. You hum in approval. He helped you up and cloaks your shoulders with his arms. He peppers kisses on your hair as you walk towards the apartment kitchen.

You two spend a solid amount of time whipping up some pancakes. You try your best to balance the two plates that contained stacks of pancakes. “ I'll carry that, love. “ He places another kiss on your forehead and takes the heavy plates off your hands. Lastly, you grab the whipped cream and a pack of strawberries and waddle back to the bedroom where you two can munch on pancakes and feed each other strawberries.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ jeong yunho

⟶ your alarm loudly went off, filling the once silent room with an alarming noise. Pun intended. A figure behind you blocked the rays of sunshine from getting to you. One of his arms was wrapped across your figure. You tried freeing yourself from his grasp but it only tightens even more. Now the struggle of turning off the darn alarm became even more difficult.

You somehow managed to do it and turned off the annoying alarm. You look at the sleeping Bear before you. His aura alone gave off a cozy and warm vibe that made you want to snuggle even closer. Your sleepy head was too busy dreaming to even hear the ringing alarm that went off a second ago.

It required a lot of patience and perseverance to wake yunho up. You even reached the limits where you lay on top of him and continuously poked his cheek. After a solid minute, you felt his arms around your waist. He was still half asleep so the only thing he did was pull you closer and hug you even more. “ Baby, let's go back to sleep. “ He said before closing his eyes once more.

“ Fine I'm only saying yes since I love you. “ You pout before rolling back to your side of the bed and sleeping again with your cuddle bug.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ kang yeosang

⟶ yeosang was one to wake up a bit early. And when you say that you mean literally seven a.m. As usual you felt him tear away the sheets and went out for a cup of coffee, leaving you all alone. Not that it was that bad. You had your bed and sleep with you.

He usually brings along his skateboard and arrives back thirty minutes later. Always right on time when you started to wake up. You felt his foot steps and eventually the bed sinking a bit. Yeosang sat on the bed with a coffee in hand and a book with the other. “ Oh you're awake already? “ He raises a brow at you. You could only sheepishly smile and scoot closer to him.

He casually places a kiss on your head and proceeds to talk. “ On my way back, I picked up a few books I think you'd like. “ He smiles. He picks up the small stack of books and shows you. You were still a bit in a daze so he offered you coffee. His usual blend of Iced White Chocolate Mocha.

And so the day continues with nothing but books to talk about and endless sips of coffee.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ choi san

⟶ he's also one to wake up a bit early. But he dosent leave you, he just likes to roll around the bed and stare at you. Not in a creepy way of course. He admired every part of you.

And everytime you open your eyes he was there to tell you how beautiful or handsome you are. Embraces you with the most comfortable hug ever. He loves to sing to you whenever you two sleep or wake up. He knows you love his voice. He sings you your favorite songs, occassionally dancing with you.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ song mingi

⟶ You and your cuddle bunny were simply lying around and doing nothing. Well maybe doing something. Cuddling.

His large figure towered over you. Arms around you as you just simply talk about the week that quickly flew by. He felt the need to braid your hair so he put the lessons you taught to use. You continued your rant while he braids your hair with the most adorable face.

By the time you were done, your hair was already braided in all sorts of ways and directions. Although it wasn't the best, you still didn't take it off but instead awarded him with kisses. “ When have you got so good at braiding, baby? “

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ jung wooyoung

⟶ he's too much of a cuddle bunny to even get up alone. His nose scrunches up and his eyes screw tighter as he notices the sun peaking through the window sills. He now widely grins upon seeing you all curled up right next to him. Won't hurt to take a few photos right?

He cheekily giggles at between switching angles. All the clicking that could be heard made you wake up. You felt an arm above you so first instinct was to push it away. And you did just so. “ Wooyoung let me sleep please... “ You groan out. You turn to the other side, slightly pissed.

He later apologizes to you by cooking you some scrambled eggs. Which was a mess that even pissed you more but all the kisses he gave made up for it.

₊˚.ੈ♡˳ choi jongho

⟶ you didn't expect to wake up with an extremely strong pair of arms wrap around you as if it's the last thing it does. You were kind of suffocating at this point. You hurriedly wake the sleeping boy up. He was slightly confused but immediately released you when he saw you struggling.

“ I'm so sorry babe !! I swear it just happens ! “ He pouts, upset that he almost murdered you. You regain the oxygen you lost and reassured the sorry boy. “ Baby, I swear it's fine ! “ You say. He continued nonetheless. Saying sorry every minute while giving you endless love.

If this what happens if he accidentally hurts you, you decide to go with the flow instead and get showered with love.

a / n : I literally wrote this while listening to love talk what-

222 notes · View notes

crabsxdragons · 4 years

Text

boyfriend kim mingyu bullet points.

ps. this is my first time writing in a bullet points format, i hope i did it right

food is the center of your relationship (5/9 of the pictures are basically him eating, not at all surprising)

your date always centers around food, whether it’d be lunch dates, dinner dates, snack dates, trying out new restaurants, late night snack dates, convenience store mukbang dates, and even cooking class dates

you would always sit on his right side, him on your left side

you find it so cute that he’s left handed

you would always have to roll up his sleeves during a meal because he gets so excited about food *basically a whole baby

you like watching him stuff food in his mouth, making his cheeks puff up like a hamster

he would pout when you teased him about it

desserts

a must after every date

you find out that both of you follow the motto “there is always room for dessert” during your first date and he immediately knew you were the one for him

again, during dessert, especially if it’s ice cream, you would have to roll up his sleeves, and wipe off the melted ice cream on his fingers, and sometimes lips and cheeks

he would steal licks of your ice cream when you’re not looking

or if he’s feeling experimental, would mix both of your ice cream flavors to create a new flavor

doesn’t always work out that well

speaking of food, cooking is basically a whole other type of date

although you are more on the baking side, you love to help him try out recipes, become his assistant in the kitchen, or simply helping him clean up

you always love what he cooks, especially knowing how much care and love he puts to it

the same thing if you’re baking, mingyu loves your baked goods, from cakes to muffins to desserts to anything basically

sometimes you’d receive a text in the middle of the day of him suggesting you to try out a recipe he found online

and you did try some of them, which made him very happy

with your limited cooking skills, you’d sometimes send him homemade lunch when he has practice, alongside some snacks for the other members cause you can’t forget about them

mingyu would beam in pride when the members praised your chocolate chip cookies, or banana muffins, or fruit cake or when they fought over who gets the last piece of egg tart you made

homemade cake and dinner is a must for special occasions, especially birthdays, you both go out to eat quite a lot so during these special occasions you both like to just stay at home and cook or bake together

mingyu’s birthday cake from year to year always changes depending on his request, from the classic chocolate cake to apple pie to that crepe cake which took hours to make, and even a stack of macarons cause he hinted that he wanted a macarons tower cake *yes you’ve made so many cakes for him, you’ve dated for that long, mingyu is a guy with commitment

food photos, a must, everywhere you eat, every meal you make at home, every successful or failed recipes

and speaking of pictures-he has a separate album on his phone only for your pictures, the selfies you sent him, candid pics he took of you, your pictures together, impromptu photoshoots he made you do when he really likes your outfit

and don’t get started on the videos, he records whenever he can, something for him to see when he misses you, or when you’re asleep but he wants to see you but he kinda doesn’t want to wake you up, also something to laugh at because there are some moments worth laughing at *over and over again, he never gets enough of it

that’s just the photos on his phoneyou can expect the same situation with his camera

the pictures he took are beautiful, and he always tries to capture you in the most natural setting, he absolutely loved taking candid pictures of you, close up shoots that showed the way your eyes lit up at the beach in front of you, or how the wind blows your hair softly

on the rare occasion that you get to be behind the camera instead of him, it’s his turn to be in every picture

sometimes he lets you use his camera, he loved the pictures you took, how you managed to capture everyday life details that others would sometimes miss, he loves nothing more than to see the world through your eyes

moving on to one of the obvious facts here, height difference

the boy is tall, like skyscraper talland you wonder if he would every stop growing taller because it seemed like everytime you see him he gets even taller

“stop it, you’re like a head taller than me”

which does comes with some pretty good perks

like when you can’t reach something from the top shelves, whether it be mugs in the kitchen, books in your favorite book store, that huge bag of chips at the convenience store, also very handy when it comes to changing lightbulbs

“why would you need a ladder when you have me ?”

he’s very smug about, and also lowkey dying from cuteness whenever he gets a reminder of how much shorter you are compared to him, it makes him want to squish you in a hug-

which he always does

hugs. from. mingyu. are. the. best.

just warm and comforting, sometimes he’ll lift you up and spin you around, sometimes he’ll kiss the top of your head, and rub your back, and tuck your head under his chin and you can just melt into his arms

back to the height topic

he likes to steal your books or phone when you were too focused that you’re not giving him enough attention

he would lift it above his head, completely out of your reach even if you tried your best to stand on your tippy toes

would most definitely laugh at your struggle while you give him the death glaresand he would say that you look like an angry bunny or a pissed off golden retriever puppy

which ultimately makes you roll your eyes at himnot to forget, you are also his portable arm rest

likes to mess with you by putting his huge arms on your shoulder, or on your head, purposely messing up your hair

but seriously, mingyu sometimes forgets the fact that he’s a giant and that he could easily crush you, so there were occasions when he would lean on you and you’d lose balance which resulted in both of you on the floor

yes, that happened

moving on

family

the most important thing for him and you

he took you to meet his family after a couple of dates because he’s been telling his mom about you and now she wants to meet you

his mom is very very nice, showing her affection by making you eat more (like how any mom would), also thanking you for taking care of mingyu because according to his mom, he looks so much healthier and happier now

after the first meeting with his family, his mom suddenly became your mom too, especially after mingyu gave her your number

would sometimes call you during lunch time to remind you to eat, ask you how you are doing, in general just the sweetest and loveliest person ever (not much of a surprise since we all know how sweet her son is), you think you might cry because she’s so caring

his mom would also send you kimchi when she has extras

correction, she purposely made more than usual so she can send you some too

which you gratefully accept after thanking her for a million times, then sending her back one of your baked goods

which she loves

and would not stop talking about it because she knows that you can bake but she was not expecting it to be absolutely great

mingyu loves seeing your relationship with his mom, and kinda jealous too because whenever he’s out of town for tour or promotions, you get to hangout with his mom, which he is very jealous about, but also he couldn’t help but smile looking at the pictures that you and his mom took together

but then you started hanging out with his sister too, and now you have a partner to tease him, which he doesn’t approve of because it seemed like his family likes you more than him now

especially since his sister has an ally now, and it’s 2 vs 1 with you and his sister against him

when you were hanging out one day in your place, his mom called you to ask if you’ve eaten yet

“eomma, how can you call y/n but not reply to the text i sent you last night”

you tried so hard to not laugh at his facial expression when his mom teased him by saying that you are her favorite child now

you spent the rest of the day laughing at him whenever he grumbled under his breath “i can’t believe my mom manages to call you, but not reply to her own son’s text message”

the only way to make him stop pouting-

hugs

are we not surprised herethis boy is sometimes so random, like that time when you were eating pasta, and he suddenly wanted to reenact that scene from the movie lady and the tramp

safe to say that you got sauce all over both of your shirts, and well... a few kisses too

his kisses are always so sweet, they’re the type that makes your heart squeeze and your toes curl

he loves to surprise you with light kisses on your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, your hand, your hair, he just couldn’t help it sometimes

mostly they’re innocent, and full of love

unless he’s feeling a bit more passionate, he’ll pull you in for a longer kiss, hands resting on your cheek as his thumb gently brushed your skin, his other hand would either be on your waist, or your back, holding you so close to him

mingyu likes to take it slow, he likes to savor the moment, he doesn’t want it to end, so his lips would move slowly against yours, sometimes he would smile or let out a few giggles, making you giggle too

basically it’s pretty much light and playful with him, but still very meaningful

let’s just say that he always finds the most random times to kiss you, but always when it’s just the two of you, because your relationship isn’t actually something that the public knows

speaking of relationships, only his members, family and managers knows about you, and you both would like to keep it that way for as long as possible

you didn’t mind it at all, since you’re a very much private person yourself, so you have no problem with keeping it on the low

on the rare occasions that you both get to go out for your dates, he would always drive you somewhere a bit further away from the city

or somewhere private, with less to no people, the beach, a rooftop, restaurants that serves tiny servings of food that costs more that your meal weekly (which you didn’t mind, but you reminded mingyu to never spend too much on you)

did he ever listen ? yes, you guessed it right. never.

sometimes both of your schedules meant that you don’t get to see each other for weeks, even with being in the same city

but he’ll make it up to you by taking you away for the weekend, to a small town by the beach where you take long walks along the coastline, and eat dinner with sunsets

you love road trips like this, he’d pick you up, then you would jam out to songs on the way, stop by a rest area for brunch, and bought more snacks to accompany you for the rest of the trip

mingyu knows you love the ocean so much, so he would take you to the beach to watch the sun set, take unlimited amount of photos, pull you in for a hug and smother your face with kisses

then you’d have dinner accompanied by your laughter and conversations about anything

“thank you, for taking me here”

he’s shook his head, “no, this is my thank you, cause you’ve put up with being with someone like me”

his eyes would turn sad as he remembered how rarely you both met because of his schedules, “i’m sorry i’m not the best partner, we barely see each other”

at this, you would hold his hand and made him look at you, “hey, there’s nothing to be sorry about, i’m okay with this, it doesn’t matter if we couldn’t meet for months because that’s your career, your dream, just like i have mine, you have yours too, right ?”

“i know, but i mean- i’ve seen your friends and their partners, you know those boyfriends who would pick them up after class, who’d hold their hand as they walk down the street, take them to movies, not having to hide and be cautious all the time-“

“gyu, what makes you think i cared about those things ? i’m completely fine with having a boyfriend who still makes time to hang out at my place after a long day of practice, someone who sends me good luck videos when he’s halfway around the world living his dreams, someone who trusts me enough to let me be the first one to know about their comebacks and projects-“

and from the way you spoke to him with that shine in your eyes, he couldn’t help but lean closer and pull you in for a short kiss, pausing whatever you have to say

“i love you, thank you for putting up with me”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #svt #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen boyfriend #svt boyfriend #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu boyfriend #kim mingyu imagines

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the-edge-of-great · 3 years

Text

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ friendsgiving ♥

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The silence that immediately follows “How did you spend your holidays?” is brief but deafening. Her heart sinks. She looks to Luke for help, but he’s watching the guys on the couch, eyes jumping between Alex and Reggie; the weight of the conversation seems to rest on their shoulders, and they don’t notice because they’re too busy avoiding everything, especially their bandmates.

So Julie backtracks, quickly. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t—Forget I said anything.” She reaches to fix the sheet music but realizes it’s already perfectly straight, and her hand falls flat, and there’s still an awkward silence, so she begins playing the start of Finally Free, which isn’t at all what they were working on, but this hasn’t happened before. She’s always been careful asking about their past because she doesn’t know how far is too far. And until now, she hasn’t struck out with any questions. They’ve been cool about it, mostly answering anything she wanted to know. If they didn’t want to talk about it, they kindly changed the subject. At some point, she thinks they became open books to her, and she them.

That’s why this question tumbled out so casually.

And that’s why the silence is scaring her.

Luke, finally, saves her. “We’d spend Thanksgiving with my dad’s family,” he tells her with a smile, which she immediately mirrors as her shoulders slump with relief, “and for Christmas, we’d go to my aunt’s place to party with my mom’s side. She actually lives in Pasadena.” He chuckles. It takes her all of five seconds to realize why that’s funny to him, and then she breathes a laugh and rolls her eyes.

“Holidays were always hectic for me,” Reggie says next. Julie’s heart flutters. “Like, three or four days of traveling to make sure we see both sides, both sets of grandparents, and somehow not barf from all the food.” He and Luke share a laugh, and Alex smiles faintly as he jumps to his feet.

“I just remembered,” he says, stepping over Luke, “I’m meeting Willie today.” He looks back at them briefly, his smile weak and probably forced, before vanishing.

Reggie and Luke share a look. Mumbling something about the beach, Reggie disappears too.

As soon as he’s gone, Julie’s face drops to her hands. “That was a disaster,” she groans.

“Family’s just a hard topic for them,” Luke replies quietly.

Chewing on her lip, Julie takes Alex’s spot next to him. “Tell me why?” she asks softly.

“Sure, since they outed all of my shit last month.” He chuckles.

“Whaaat?” Julie shakes her head. “They didn’t—” The look he gives her makes her stumble. Sheepishly, she adds, “They were trying to help.”

“I know.” Shaking his head, he explains, “Reggie’s parents fought a lot. So much that he didn’t like us coming over, like, ever. It was, seriously, all the time.”

“Fighting, like… arguing? Or…?”

“Just arguing,” he reassures. “They’d scream at each other, and sometimes at him if he got in the middle of it, but…” Luke sighs. “Just arguing.”

“And… Alex?”

He pauses, gaze dropping to his lap, and Julie’s stomach turns. She reaches for his hand, half to grab his attention again, half because she feels she’ll need a better alternative to digging her nails into her palm when she hears whatever he has to say. He intertwines their fingers, locking her hand in a grip tighter than she expected. If she wasn’t nervous before, she is now.

“Alex’s parents weren’t cool with him being gay.”

Julie sits up straighter. “What—What does that mean?” She needs better clarification because she knows what that could mean—she’s seen it on the news, on Tumblr and Twitter and Instagram, heard about it through the grapevine of high school—and her heart aches at the idea of Alex—sweet, caring Alex—going through anything of the sort.

“They didn’t kick him out which, I guess, is something, but they just… stopped caring. They stopped acknowledging him.”

Julie shakes her head. “They don’t deserve any praise for not kicking him out,” she says quietly, lip curling at her words. “Not for doing less than the bare minimum of being parents.”

“Getting angry over it is a lost cause.” He smiles sadly at her. “You don’t know how many times we talked about getting him out of his house. Both of ‘em. Bobby and I would spend nights out here, drawing up plans to run away to Vegas or something.”

“I should’ve never brought it up,” she mumbles. “I know holidays are hard for some people.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, turning to her and taking her other hand in his. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. Besides, it was bound to come up eventually. Family’s just… different, you know?”

Julie sighs, shoulders slumping forward. She watches Luke’s thumb rub across her knuckles. Thanksgiving is in a few days; her house is going to be lively with the whole family. When Mom was alive, the studio was a place for the kids to hangout. Obviously, nobody went near it after she died. Dad locked it up before people began arriving. Julie wonders, as she looks around the room, if they’ll open it to the family again. Or maybe it should stay closed for the guys’ sake.

“So… No holidays?” she asks. “At all? ‘Cause… I have an idea…”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “What’re you thinking?”

“It’s this thing called… Friendsgiving.”

~**~**~**~

Star Wars and other movies downloaded to the computer? Check. Computer hooked up to the projector? Check. Two white sheets borrowed from Flynn strung up in front of the instruments? Check.

“Are the lights too much?” Julie asks, waving her phone around the room to show off her decorations. “They feel too much.”

“No, fairy lights are cute!” Flynn exclaims through the phone. “And you went through all the work hanging them up.”

“I know we think they’re cute, but will they think they’re cute?”

“Jules, they’re like puppies; they’ll be excited about anything.”

“Okay.” Julie nods. “Okay.” The lights are weaved around the loft railing and framing the sides of the sheets. She had to improvise with Christmas lights, so when she turns them on, instead of faint white, a soft rainbow glows off the loft and cascades down to the floor.

“Look okay?” she asks Flynn again. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous. It’s just Luke, Reggie, and Alex… But Reggie and Alex haven’t had a good Thanksgiving in a while. So, okay, maybe there’s a little pressure for things to be perfect. Or a lot. Maybe the lights is overdoing it—

“Dude, what’s up with you?” she hears Alex say outside.

“They’re here!” Julie stage whispers.

“Okay?” Flynn says just as soft. “Go talk to them? And the lights are cute! Keep them on!”

“As Julie would say,” Reggie adds, voice getting louder as he nears the studio, “you’re acting hella sus.”

“Wait, wait,” Luke says, probably trying to stop him. “Just—Wait a second.”

“I’ll text you later,” Julie tells Flynn as she heads for the door.

“Julie!”

“What?!”

Flynn smiles at her. “They’re going to love it, okay?”

Julie stops, hand inches from the door handle. Taking a deep breath, she returns Flynn’s smile. “Thanks, Flynn.”

Feet shuffle out of the way of the door that swings open a few inches. Julie pokes her head out. “Hi there,” she says, grinning.

Alex squints at her. “You’re in on it too, huh?”

“Alex, honey, I planned it.”

Luke, who froze in the middle of holding Reggie back with arms around his chest when Julie stepped out, backs off and joins her by the door.

“And you guys never figured it out!” he says proudly, fist bumping her.

Reggie and Alex share a look that makes her think yeah, no, they totally figured something was going on. She giggles.

“Well, uh…” Julie glances over her shoulder. “You guys want to see what the secret is?” She leans against the door to push it open and waves them past. “Ta-da.”

Along with the Christmas lights is a lamp beside the couch, covered by a blanket to dim the brightness. In place of the coffee table she pushed to the side are pillows and blankets layered over each other. Board games she found in the loft are stacked high in the chair next to the couch. They’re a mixture of generations: some she received as Christmas and birthday gifts, and others that have been around for as long as she can remember—favorites among her family, especially her parents. Maybe the guys will remember them too.

The shelf behind the couch is empty except for the projector. She had to find an extension cord to plug in her computer and leave it safely on the couch (she may have tried to balance it on the shelf with the projector, but one close call was enough to look into alternatives).

After the door is latched behind her, she joins them in the middle of the room, playing with her hands. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she begins. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

Alex shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Julie. You didn’t know.”

“But I do now. And… I don’t know how you guys feel about the holidays, but I hope you give this one a chance?” She steps around them, kicking off her shoes as she goes. “It’s not an official holiday, but over the years, it’s become more popular.” She steps onto the couch and looks back at them with a smile. “It’s called Friendsgiving. Families suck sometimes, and you can’t choose them. But, you can choose your friends.” Standing on her tiptoes, she flips the projector on. A light beam shoots past them and shines across the bed sheets. Two was a better decision than one, it seems. The picture has plenty of room to spread out. Perhaps not the best quality, but at least they can watch it full screen.

“I have all of the Star Wars movies downloaded,” she continues, stepping off the couch, “along with a few others if we get sick of the marathon. I don’t know if you like board games, but I found a few in the loft?” She points at the stack.

“You did… all of this for us?” Reggie asks, almost breathlessly.

“Well, yeah. And Luke helped.” Luke smiles when the guys look at him. Julie adds, “I don’t think I could’ve guessed your movie taste without him.”

“There are some good ones on there,” he promises.

Alex huffs a laugh. He spins in a slow circle, taking in everything. “This is awesome, Jules.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but… You’re wrong about one thing.” She freezes. Luke and Reggie look back at him. Alex shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, looking over each of them, the corner of his mouth curved in a smile. “You can choose the family that matters.”

“And it’s us?” Luke teases. “We’re your Chosen Ones?” As he and Reggie share a laugh, Alex walks away from them.

“C’mere,” he says with a laugh, pulling Julie into a hug. Alex gives some of the best hugs. He’s tall enough to tuck her head under his chin, and she can bury her face in his chest.

Luke and Reggie must move in, because Alex walks them near the couch. “No, no, she’s my Chosen One. You two go away.”

“We were here first,” Luke whines.

“But it’s Julie,” Reggie reasons. He shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips.

Luke nods. “Good point.”

“Still, you’re crazy if you think I’m just going to ignore group hug potential,” Reggie says, lunging for them. Alex pretends to try getting away, but he actually opens an arm for him, and now Julie’s squished between them. Not even a second later, Luke’s on her other side. They’re a mess of laughter until someone missteps. They fall in slow motion, it seems. Julie rolls off of Alex’s chest and into the arms of Luke, who hugs her to his chest immediately.

“Good thing Julie has all of the pillows of the universe here,” Alex jokes.

“Oh yeah, I called in every favor. They asked how many I wanted. I said yes.”

Reggie pushes himself up. He squints at the stack of board games. “No way! You have Candyland?”

Luke chuckles in her ear. “Are those Christmas lights?”

“I improvised.”

“I like it.”

Alex is looking at them. “Me too.”

Julie grins. “Thanks, guys.”

“Reg, Candyland or Star Wars?” Alex asks, rolling onto his stomach.

Reggie pauses, board game in his hands. “Can we… We can do both!”

Julie laughs out loud.

After a few minutes of clearing away the pillows (“Oh good, I thought we’d never see that rug again.”), setting up the game, and playing the movie, they’re ready: Candyland and Star Wars. Not how she ever imagined spending the day before Thanksgiving.

“Hey,” Julie says as she draws a card. It’s green. She looks up at them, smiling. “I love you guys, you know?”

They each share looks, grinning at one another. To her left, Luke draws next. “We know, Julie,” he says, moving his character forward. When he meets her eye, he tell her, “We love you, too.”

“Now, keep that in mind when I completely destroy all of you in these games,” Reggie warns.

Julie raises a challenging eyebrow.

“Bring it.”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #julie molina #luke patterson #alex jatp #reggie jatp #some band fluff on this fine morning #this started out with a lot of angst potential but then i was like #no #i have a cuter idea #eog writes

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