#i draw everyone blushing just to feel something but you can interpret this however you want | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

hii, i absolutely loved your “yes ma’am” jj one shot, just wanted to say that if you plan on writing more of that i would really really love to read it :) idk if you take requests but if you do feel free to interpret this as one i guess, even tho it’s not very specific 😭 sorry i’m not good at this but anyways i hope you have a very good day !!

baby boy

this can be read as a part two, or seperately from this

jj maybank x reader / masterlist

summary; the boy that you have intimate instructs with shows up at your door, after getting in an altercation with his father. you make him feel better, by proceeding to do more than patch him up / warnings; domestic abuse, jj’s dad is a piece of shit, mummy kink, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69ing, titty sucking

“Let me make you feel good.” JJ was a state, he was bruised black and blue, the injuries having endured the soothing chill of ice to help reduce the pain. Though he still winced as he sat up straighter, staring at you. A frown caused discord to contribute to his features, as he became distracted by the other things he would wish to do to you.

It was a passion of his to be between your legs, delivering supple amounts of pleasure. Since the first time he had done such a deed with you, he was put on quite the tantrum if he wasn’t allowed to. A pout coursed the pursing of his lips, enforcing you to tut at his demeanour.

Though tonight, if you were sure he could handle such matters, you would go easy on him. Usually you took great pride in littering hand prints along his body, more specifically his ass, but for now he had enough bruises creating a discourse in his skin. You wished you had an eraser, so that you could remove all the endurances that he had survived, as well as to make his horrid father disappear entirely from the picture.

JJ deserved vastly better, and you were going to take care of him, as long as he consented of course. He needed to absorb the fact that life was not all pain, even for pogues, there were things to take pleasure in, such as the beauty of the collaboration of human bodies; it was a force of nature, endured through fusion of conspired cruelty.

Everyone knew of the circumstances that the blond managed to survive in, half the time, he spent the time of his slumber beneath his friend John B’s unstructured roof, or like now, under yours, a place that he felt safe, and secured in the setting.

Here, there was no need for him to be fearful, it was a shelter for him to fawn in, to feel free to bare the nasty inflammation of purple digress across his chest, and the split in his brow that would take a couple of weeks to completely heel.

The bruises, swollen like forbidden plums, etched out of his body, staring you in the face, though, it only served as a fatal reminder of his father’s subject to inflict pain. Though his anger and resented ways of parenting were induced by heroine, filtering his veins with a poisonous role as a boy’s father.

There was emotion surfing upon the tide of JJ’s azure eyes, brill by the pain that resonated within the waves, permitting rolls of sorrow to persevere out from his forlorn irises, sending signals of unmistakable endurance towards you, as though he were pleading to be comforted.

Briskly, he nodded his head, without words, saying that he was fine with the matter of you making him feel better; in fact, the desire of being held, and soothed, was rather intent, twisted with the feeling of being carved into a motion of forgetting the rash circumstances that had permitted him to be taken in, and nurtured by your soft hands.

His nose burrowed into your shoulder, nestling into the locks that cascaded down, the shallow breaths that he took granting him to breathe normally for a second. Each time that he shut his eyes, he pictured the scene; it was on the porch, mid morning. He was just about to creep in, and grab any supplies that he had left in his room.

But his father had been waiting for his late arrival, sitting on the chair with disappointment written all over his face. It was terrifying, and what with JJ being the way he was, he did not even attempt to bite back words, instead he allowed his mouth to run freely, resulting in the morbid beating, that had his bones aching.

The treatment was a regular occurrence, but this was cusping his mindset to be scathed, even when he was in your presence, cooped up in his safety net of your physical contact, the abusive actions flickering far behind his eyes, like a silent movie that had him keening out for something more optimistic in referral to his future.

As your had slid down his flushed skin, he gulped, almost moaning out at the tenderness that your hand attributed alongside his beaten flesh. He felt like he had endured a battle, and he was lucky to have gotten out alive. The remnants of the war were scattered about like a platter of marble, there were lines striking his exterior, creating a crack in his appearance, as though he were broken, and he sure as hell felt that way.

But you wouldn’t allow him to think like that; he was not broken. Instead he was tarnished, but there was still chance of having the certification to be repaired. And you would do anything to make JJ, your sweet boy, feel obscenely better. He deserved the world, yet with the brunt of it, he had been handed life on a stick, carrying his burdens around like a ploy.

It was the price all that were born on the cut paid, enforcing the image of the figure eight to appear like a paradise, with strong walls to hide behind, and grave teams of people that would willingly support them, whether they were neighbours, of friends, or coworkers, or anyone. And not to mention, they had the dough to hire lawyers and attorneys to respond with privilege in defence of their actions.

The lower your hand crept down, as though it were preying for something to attain a hardy grip on, the more erect JJ’s cock became. He could feel himself twitch in his boxers, for that was all that he was clothed in, the fragrance of your shampoo seeping through the breaching of his nostrils only aiding the ramifications of his pulsating length, that was growing by the second.

To adjourn his frustrations out, JJ knew that he was not supposed to wisp his fingers through your hair, and thus instead, he bunched up the sheets beside him that were stretched out like a layer of monotone and neutral land, lightly rutting his hips in an upwards motion, hoping, even mindlessly praying, that you would shift your attention to the prodding that was expedited from the inside of his underwear.

“Oh baby boy, it’s okay. I’m here, and I am going to take real good care of you.” You spoke as you noticed his crotch standing to attention, and him whimpering for the same eye drawing scenario. From your condemned statement, a slither of colour paved his face, mostly concentrated on his cheeks.

Your JJ was inherently blushing, the heat crawling over and under his flesh, as though he were embarrassed by how quickly he had gotten aroused. However, there was no need for him to be, and you assured him by pressing firm kisses along his jaw line, nipping lightly on the skin, and tugging with restraint upon it.

Slipping from his lips, a guttural groan fumbled out, purchasing a content smile to break out onto your face. The distraction was plentiful, more so as your hand cupped his bulge, gently stroking the top through the material with the pad of your thumb. It was a circuit of stimulation, erupting a course of pleasure through his veins.

“Don’t wanna- mummy.” He whined, making you cock your head in staged dominance, glancing down at him, as he pleasingly held his gaze upon you, with his jaw tipped up so that he could get the best perspective of your face.

“Don’t wanna what baby?” You lightly tease him, causing his heart to rapidly flutter as you continue to caress him through the red of his boxer shorts. There was a visible patch of precum on the crimson material, soaking through the layer, as he languidly rolled his hips, and to exhibit him further comfort, you leant down, tasting its sweet salted flavour in your tongue as you ran your tongue over the fabric.

Tugging at the rim of his underwear, you watched as his cock flipped out of the confines, bobbing up on the canvas of his stomach, with the layer of precum swiped over his tip, a little stretched down the ways of his length.

“I want to eat you, taste you.” He sniffled lightly, whining in a higher pitch, as he muffled his pleads into your neck. In turn to his nonchalant begging, you were coerced to rub your thighs together, unintentionally warming the slick that had gathered between them, it was hot to see his desperation.

“Mummy, please.” Light tears corrupted his eyes, he was on the edge of combusting from lack of getting what he wanted, and you didn’t have the heart, or lack of to deny him, especially after what had sourly happened to him, in the habit of his own family home.

As you went to peel his boxers all the way down his legs, about to untangle them from around his ankles, JJ urgently began to tug at your clothes. He could see that you had given into his wish, you were going to allow him to flick his hungry to please tongue over your slit, and he was eager to do so, as was quite obvious by the way he screwed the bottom of your shirt up in his hands, rolling the material in his fists.

“Patience baby boy.” From your soothing command, he calmed, and you threaded your hands through his hair, as a reward for his obliged cooling of behaviour. Slowly, as you leant your chest close to him, you remove your blouse, and from the soon proximity that you were in to JJ, he began to suck your tits through your bra.

A tut abandoned your mouth, and lightly with gentle might you pushed him back, to remove the last layer on your upper half, allowing him to return in his commencing of suckling on your nipples, as though he were a newborn, starved and inclined to feed. In the meantime of JJ salivating your nubs, you shifted out of your shorts, leaving you in nothing more than your panties.

His head ran down, his lips laddering down the steady rising slate of your stomach, down to between your thighs, his mouth succulently nipping over the thin layer of your panties, he remained there for a moment as you panted from the sensation, before rolling him over, and turning, so that whilst he feverishly tugged your panties to the side, you leant your head down, eyeing his cock.

Your hand trailed down to his appendage, swiftly tugging on his length, causing high pitched tones to emit from his busy lips, the vibrations muffled against your cunt, trying his utmost to devour your flow of juices. Enclosing your lips around his cock, you steadied your hips around the portrayal of his head, taking bit by bit further down your throat.

To add to his specifics of pleasure, you rolled his balls in the palms of your hand, rotating your fingers around the sack below his length, and thus you pulled you lips off from around him for a moment, to lick a line up the seam of it, before returning to deep throating his cock.

A few more bobs of your head had JJ finishing in your mouth, and for a minute, you rolled his seed around in his mouth as you thrusted yourself hips against his face, chasing your own high as you swallowed his.

“Wanna make mummy cum. Want to taste her sweet, sweet mummy juice.” Gripping onto his waist, you furiously rode his face, releasing a small, supple scream as you finished on his beautiful complexion. He toyed his tongue around your folds, soaking up every drop of your essence with his tongue.

With a heavy breath, you clambered off from him after cumming, a content smile prevailed on your face as you stretched your arm across to the bedside table, grasping up the packet of cleansing wipes, and retracted one from it, using them to wipe your juices off from his face, sweeping up the excess that was glossing his chin.

After disposing of the used wipes, you tucked JJ under the sheets, bringing him to lay against your chest, as you applied a kiss upon his forehead. His blue eyes fluttered closed, as he began to suck on your tits again, aiding him in having calm dreams, and forget about the troubles that had haunted him.

1K notes · View notes

hercleverboy · 4 years

Text

the beauty of falling in love

spencer reid x reader

summary ↠ spencer is determined to show the reader just how beautiful love can be.

category ↠ angst/fluff

warnings/includes ↠ mentions of sex, swearing.

word count ↠ 4.5k

“Hug me like the night holds the moon.” — Alexandra Vasiliu

Falling in love with her was never a choice.

It started slowly, building up over the first few months since she’d joined the team. He often lost his train of thought when he was around her, stumbling over his words and getting flustered easily when she paid him a single ounce of attention.

And then one day, it hit him. All at once.

He was in love with her.

At first, he was filled with an unimaginable guilt.

He’d only lost Maeve just two years prior, and it felt like he was betraying her, to find himself in love with another woman.

But when he looked at her, it was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Not even with Maeve. Maeve was his first love, and he was hoping that Y/N would be his last.

Spencer knew he was more confident now than he had been a few years back. No longer was he an awkward boy who couldn’t gather up the nerve to ask a girl out. Despite all the hurt that had come from losing his first love, it’d definitely taught him a thing or two. He longed to feel the warmth and giddiness that came with falling in love with someone, to be consumed by another’s affections.

As the age old cliche goes, Y/N seemed oblivious to Spencer’s yearning. Though it wasn’t entirely her fault, as his idea of flirting wasn’t exactly obvious to the subject of his desire.

He’d bring her coffee from her favourite little shop on chilly winter mornings, watching as her face lit up with joy and feeling the familiar tenderness fill him, knowing he was the reason she was smiling. Of course, Y/N only interpreted the act as a friend buying another friend a drink, when it really was so much more than that.

When his attempt at showing her that he wanted to be more failed, he went back to the drawing board, brainstorming other ways he could tell her he loved her without ever actually having to say the words.

His second approach came in the form of touch. More specifically, not being so uptight over touch. He wasn’t going to push himself to a point where he would be uncomfortable, but he was going to be a little more open to touch. And besides, if it came from Y/N, he figured he wouldn’t mind it at all. The approach was executed for the first time on the way home on the jet after a case that had shaken the entire team. He sat next to her as he always did, but this time he reached out his hand, that was trembling ever so slightly to place over her own shaking hands. She looked up from her lap, facing Spencer with a shocked look on her face. Sure, they’d hugged and such before, during dinner nights at Rossi’s or after they experienced a ‘I thought I lost you’ moment in the field, but never had he shown that level of affection before.

He took it another step further. The next time they were on the jet, it was late, and the team were exhausted after spending days in a row awake as they worked a gruelling child abduction case. It had ended pretty well, with the child home safe and the unsub in custody, but the entire team had practically passed out as soon as they were sat in the soft leather seats of the jet. Y/N had fallen asleep next to him, her neck bent at an angle that couldn’t have been comfortable. Seeing this, Spencer placed down the book he was reading on the table in front of him, quickly glancing around the jet to check that the team were asleep, mostly so Morgan wouldn’t tease him for what he was about to do.

He gently moved his arm, placing it around her shoulder and smoothly guiding her body to rest against his, her head dropping down onto his shoulder in a much more comfortable position than it was before. He succeeded in not waking her, smiling down at her when she nestled her face into the crook of his neck as she slept, her small hands gripping onto the fabric of his sweater vest as cute soft snores left her lips.

When the pilot announced they were due to land within the next few minutes, Spencer gently shook Y/N awake, hoping that he wouldn’t startle her. She blinked her pretty eyes open slowly, taking in her surroundings. She smiled a little when she noticed the position she’d been sleeping in, sitting up. spencer tried not to seem too upset when she pulled completely away from him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to use you as a human pillow.” She joked.

He pushed his slight upset aside, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. You were sleeping in a position that would’ve hurt your neck if you stayed in it, so I figured my shoulder would be better for you.” He tried so hard to pour as much sincerity and sentiment into the words as he could, hoping and praying she’d read between the lines.

She didn’t. She simply patted his chest, murmuring a small ‘thank you’, before buckling her seat belt for landing.

Spencer was starting to lose hope in his subtle approach, part of him figuring he was just going to have to come right out and say it- ‘I love you and I have done for months now.’

One evening, after a tiring paperwork day in the office, Spencer looked around the bullpen to see that everyone else on the team had gone home. Himself and Y/N were the only ones still packing up. Feelings aside, they were close friends, and normally waited for one another to pack up before walking out together to their cars.

Y/N threw the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, eyes sweeping over her desk to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She turned around, walking toward the exit of the bullpen as she glanced over to Spencer, who was placing a book inside his satchel.

“You ready to go?” She asked.

He threw his satchel strap over his shoulder, nodding as he followed her out to the elevators.

As they waited for the elevator, Y/N took note of how fidgety he seemed. His fingers played anxiously with the leather strap of his bag, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he looked down at his shoes. A ding sounded out, the doors opening before them, Spencer gesturing with his hand for her to go in first- ever the gentleman.

Y/N waited a moment to see if he would start talking, like he usually did, rambling about something or other. However, he seemed uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes trained on the floor. She could practically hear the cogs turning in his head. She decided she’d just start talking to fill the silence, knowing that Spencer would speak when he wanted to.

At the sound of her voice, his eyes snapped up to her face. He wasn’t listening to what she was talking about, instead his eyes lingered on her facial features, memorising every freckle, the blush on her cheeks and the passion in her eyes as she spoke. His mind swam with possibilities.

How am I supposed to make a move? I’m obviously going to have to be more upfront about it so she gets the message.

They exited the elevator once it reached the lower level car park. She turned to Spencer with an unsure smile, wanting to ask if there was something wrong but deciding against it. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she gave him a simple wave and headed off in the direction of her car.

Spencer stood there, watching her walk away as his brain worked at a thousand miles a minute to come up with something to say-

“Wait up!” He called after her, speeding to follow after her. She turned around at the call of her name, confused as she saw Spencer coming after her.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah- it’s just, its late. Let me walk you to your car.” He proposed, saying the first thing he could think of that would buy him some more time.

Y/N’s face showed that of surprise, but she nodded, nonetheless. “Okay. Thanks, Spence.”

Once they reached her car, she turned to face him with a small smile. “Well, thanks again. I’ll see you tomorrow?” She opened her car door, throwing her bag inside first onto the passenger seat.

Spencer’s mind was in overdrive, trying to think of what to do. How could he make it clear to her?

He could only think of one thing.

When she turned back around to face him, she let out a gasp at the feeling of his lips on hers. His hands cradled her cheeks gently and his lips pressed against her own. The action shocked her, and before she had much of an opportunity to kiss back or even think about what was happening, he’d pulled away.

His eyes darted across her face, trying to gage her reaction and his hands fell from her cheeks, hanging by his side as he took a few steps back. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I did that I-“ He squeaked, trying to think of what he could say to make the situation any better. Instead, he swallowed his nerves and just decided to come out with it all. There was really no going back now. “No- I do know why I did it. I love you, Y/N. I have done for months. You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know, that’s all.”

Y/N still had that shocked expression on her face as she choked out. “You- you love me?”

“Yes.” Spencer whispered, afraid to say the words.

“Oh.” Y/N started, her mouth opening and closing as she desperately tried to find the right words to explain herself. “I don’t really know what to say.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, it’s clear I shouldn’t have done that. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Spencer cringed, quickly turning around and heading towards his own car.

“Spencer, wait!” Y/N called after him, but he kept walking, too overwhelmed and embarrassed to hear what she had to say.

Fuck. That could’ve gone better.

Y/N thumped down in her driver’s seat, pulling the door of the car shut behind her. Her breaths got heavy, and she felt the familiar weight on her chest as tears pricked at her eyes.

She put her head in her hands and sobbed.

Spencer sat at his desk, nervously twiddling his thumbs as his knee bounced anxiously under the table. He’d arrived at work that day earlier than usual so he could give himself time to figure out what the hell he was going to do when he saw her. He bit down on his lip as he stared at the glass bullpen doors, waiting for Y/N to arrive.

He occupied himself with thinking of what he was going to say when he saw her. Should he say he didn’t mean it, and hope that would save their friendship? Or would that only make it worse? She obviously didn’t feel the same, so what was he supposed to do? Part of him felt bad that he hadn’t stayed and heard her out, listened to whatever she had to say. But he just had to get out of there. After all, he’d essentially put his heart in her hands, laid everything out on the table for her and she’d said ‘Oh.’

He didn’t notice a presence beside him until a hand waved in his face. Alex was perched on the end of his desk; waving her hand in front of his face, evidently trying to get his attention.

“Reid? Hello?”

He blinked out of his daze, looking up at her. “Hm?”

“I asked what was up with you. You seem.. distant.” Alex noted.

“It’s nothing.” He brushed her off, not feeling like talking about it.

Alex narrowed her eyes down at the boy who’d become like a son to him. “Yeah, like I believe that. Come on, you can tell me.”

He sighed, giving in and swivelling in his chair to face her. “I walked Y/N to her car last night.”

Alex’s face lit up. She knew how bad the crush he had on Y/N was, as she was one of the few that he’d trusted enough to confide in. This was because he knew, unlike the others, Alex wouldn’t make fun of or baby him about it. She treated him like an actual person, and he liked that.

She clapped her hands together excitedly. “See? I told you that you had it in you.” Alex’s excited was short-lived as she saw the look of disappointment on his face. “What happened?”

Spencer cringed as the memory resurfaced. “I kissed her.”

Alex nodded, not quite letting her excitement show for the sake of Spencer. “That’s good, right? So she knows how you feel now?”

Spencer shrugged. “I guess. But she didn’t say anything; and she didn’t exactly kiss back. And then I got too nervous and I left. So I don’t really know.”

Alex nodded in understanding. “I mean, she was probably just shocked. Give her a little time, I’m sure everything will pan out.” She attempted to advise, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Spencer nodded, grateful for Alex’s advice. He’d just have to deal with it when Y/N got there. He couldn’t very well avoid her forever.

However Y/N didn’t show that day. He overheard JJ tell Derek that she’d called in sick, but he knew that it was likely because she didn’t want to have to face him.

And so, despite what how his mind told him to give her space, he couldn’t help how compelled he felt to drive to her apartment, to at least try and mend what he had broken.

He stopped by the flower shop on his way, hoping that a pretty bouquet might work in his favour if she ended up being mad at him. That was how he ended up stood outside her apartment door, contemplating whether what he was doing was actually a good idea.

He shook all the negativity from his head, raising his hand to knock three times on the door. He heard the shuffle of feet, before the door swung open, Y/N poking her head out to see who was there.

She smiled when she saw him, though she was evidently shocked. “Spencer? What’re you doing here?” She asked, tilting her head to the side in question in a way that Spencer thought was adorable.

“I came to apologise. I’m sorry for what happened yesterday. I- I bought these for you.” He held out a beautiful bouquet of purple flowers, wrapped in a blue tissue paper with a purple ribbon around them.

She gasped at the sight of them, reaching out to take them from him. “God, Spencer- they’re stunning.”

“They’re Hyacinths.” He started, searching desperately for something to say so that there was no room for any awkwardness, even if that meant rambling about flowers. “The purple colour represents sorrow and apologies. They’re often used as a way of asking for forgiveness.” He finished, and she brought them up to her nose, breathing in their sweet scent.

“Thank you so much, they’re lovely, but forgiveness?” She questioned. “What would you need forgiveness for?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, he thought that much was obvious. “When I kissed you yesterday, it evidently made you uncomfortable, and I just really wanted to apologise for ruining our friendship.”

“Ruining our- oh, Spencer, no. It’s not like that. Why don’t you- would you like to come in?” She asked, stepping back so he could come inside. He nodded, stepping in and taking in the space as she closed the door behind him.

She moved to her kitchen so she could fill a vase with some water to place the flowers in, before she went out to her living room, sitting down on her couch and patting the space next to her.

He sat down next to her, placing his bag by his feet on the floor, his gaze in his lap as she spoke. “Why would you think you’d ruined our friendship?”

“When you didn’t turn up for work today I just assumed it was because of what happened last night and if I overstepped I am truly sorry. I don’t expect you to return my feelings or anything, and If you could forget that I said anything, we could just go back to being friends?” He posed, trying to salvage what he could.

“You didn’t overstep.” She whispered. “I’m sorry for not kissing back. I wanted to, believe me, I did. It’s just-“ She paused, looking down at her hands that were folded neatly in her lap. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” He whispered back, looking up from his lap to study her own actions.

“Of being vulnerable, falling in love.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to be in a position where I can get hurt again. Things ended so horribly with my last boyfriend and I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself get hurt again, promised that I would just swear myself off from love.” She sniffled, and his heart broke at the sight of tears welling in her eyes. “But then I met you, and that all pretty much went down the drain.” She laughed a little. “Truth is, Spencer, I do love you. But I can’t let myself be so vulnerable again. I’m so afraid of being hurt like I was before; especially when it took me so long to repair myself after my last boyfriend. I can’t- I won’t go through that again.” She whimpered and he nodded, turning his whole body to face her.

“Y/N, you have to know, I would never hurt you. Not like he did, not ever. God, if you were mine- not a day would go by where you didn’t know how much I loved you.” He whimpered, his voice cracking slightly as his throat grew dry.

“I know you wouldn’t but- I just don’t believe in it all. Loving someone has only ever brought me pain and suffering, so why would we be any different?”

He shook his head at her words. “No. Love is- love is one of the most beautiful things in the world.” He reached out, gripping her hands tightly in his. “Let me show you.”

“Show me what?” she sniffled.

“Just how beautiful love can be. True, warming, passionate. Just, let me show you how you deserving you are of love.” He was pleading, and Y/N was so emotionally worn out that she just nodded, crumpling into his chest as she cried, his arms coming around her. “It’s okay, sweet girl. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Spencer was truly committed to proving to Y/N that love exists. The pair had begun dating shortly after the conversation they had at Y/N’s apartment, and she was really starting to see what Spencer was talking about. He showcased his love for her in a multitude of ways.

The first? Dates. Whenever they got the time, Spencer took her on spontaneous late night walks when they got home late from a case but were too overwhelmed to sleep. They’d bundle up in big coats to combat the chill in the air of the night, laughing and chatting quietly as they walked, hands swinging between them. He’d kiss her goodnight when they got back to her apartment, igniting a fire within her, this flicker of warmth and passion and happiness.

The second? A conversation she had with Derek one afternoon in the office kitchenette. She was leaning against the worktop waiting for the kettle to boil, so she could make herself and Spencer a coffee to get them through the towering pile of paperwork they each had to complete. She was staring off out the window, not paying much attention when Derek came up towards her, grabbing a water from the mini fridge and saying her name as a form of greeting. He waved a hand in front of her face to get her attention when he didn’t receive a response, and she snapped her gaze toward him, warm smile on her lips.

“Hey, Morgan. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good. How about you? How’s everything going with Pretty Ricky over there?” He nodded in Spencer’s direction, and Y/N’s eyes followed, landing on her boyfriend who was quickly flipping over the pages of a case file for his report.

“It’s- it’s good. We’re good.” She smiled, not sure what else she could say without getting too flustered.

Derek studied her intently, watching how her cheeks flushed as she watched Spencer.

“You know how happy you make him, right?”

Y/N was surprised by the comment, turning her gaze back to look at Derek. “What?”

“The smile you’ve put on that kids face, every day? I haven’t seen him smile like that in years. Not since-“ He cut himself off, not wanting to dredge up the past.

She knew what he was going to say, anyway.

Not since Maeve.

Derek cleared his throat and continued talking. “I shouldn’t tell you this, he made me promise I wouldn’t say anything, but he was talking about you the other day.”

“He was?”

Derek nodded. “Kid got all flustered when I asked about you. The blush on his cheeks, he was red as a damn tomato.” He smirked, and Y/N chuckled at the comment. “But, seriously. The way he talks about you? It’s like you’re a goddess of some sort. His eyes quite literally sparkle when he mentions you. His whole face lights up.”

“I’m lucky to have him.” She replied. She felt such a tenderness swell within her as she heard how highly he spoke of her to his friends, it made her feel so loved. She grinned at Morgan before she glanced back over to Spencer and met his gaze. Spencer was watching the interaction from across the room with a frown on his face. When their eyes met he stood up from his desk, making his way over.

“What are you guys talking about?” He pouted adorably, and Derek chuckled, putting his arms up in a fake surrender.

“Nothin’, genius. Just having a chat with your girl here. But I’ll be on my way now.” He smirked, walking away.

Y/N blushed, turning around and busying herself with making Spencer’s coffee, hoping he wouldn’t ask too many questions, though she knew he would. He stood next to her, still pouting.

“What did he say?” He asked, inquisitively.

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “Oh, nothing.”

He whined theatrically, throwing his head back. “Y/NNN.” He dragged out her name as she finished spooning half the sugar jar into his coffee. She slid it toward him as she looked up to meet his eyes.

He gave her his best puppy dog eyes and she relented with a sigh. “He just told me that sometimes you talk about me to him and the team.”

He smiled nervously, gaze dropping down. “All good things, I promise.” He mumbled.

She pushed herself up onto her tiptoes do kiss his cheek gently, which was as much PDA as Hotch would let them get away with in the office. That and the occasional hand hold. “I know. Thank you.” She smiled, before picking up her coffee and walking back to her desk.

The third? Flowers. Every Tuesday, without fail, she’d walk into the office and find a new bouquet on her desk. Or if they were away on a case, he’d place them in the hotel room that they were allowed to share. Each bouquet was accompanied with a note that explained why he bought that particular flower, and what meaning they had.

One morning she came into the office and immediately smiled at the sight of that Tuesday’s bouquet, laid gently on her desktop. She placed her bag down on her chair, lifting the bouquet and plucking the little note that sat on top of them.

‘ Peonies. The Chinese name for ‘most beautiful’ quite literally translates to Peony.

It seems only fitting, as you’re the most beautiful woman on earth.

Love, Spencer. ‘

It felt like Y/N’s heart might jump right out from her chest with how harshly it was beating against her ribcage.

The fourth? Sex. Obviously. Whilst he wasn’t completely inexperienced in the bedroom, he was still a little unsure. Still, he did his research. Unless she requested otherwise, he’d take his time with her. Unless she asked that he be slightly rougher with her, he went slowly, gently, determined that every move and every kiss showcased exactly how much he loved her. He wanted to make love to her, the woman he craved more than anything else.

The fifth? How he held her. On those early Sunday mornings, when no one else was awake. where the golden sun filtered through the gap in the curtains, painting her bare skin in a warming glow that Spencer could only describe as heavenly. She slept peacefully on his chest, his arms around her, one hand holding one of her hands while the other ran up and down her back soothingly. He’d press little kisses to the crown of her head, nuzzling his nose into her hair, breathing her in.

It was pure bliss.

She’d never felt so happy.

She’d never been so in love before.

Upon this realisation, she let her eyelids flutter open, titling her head up slightly to meet his eyes.

“Morning, beautiful.” He whispered, his voice deep and raspy as it always was in the morning.

She beamed up at him, and he brought his head down so he could press his lips to hers in a gentle kiss.

When they pulled back, she felt tears in her eyes as she looked at him. She’d given herself wholly and her heart entirely to Spencer Reid, and he hadn’t hurt her. He’d loved her with everything he had in him, shown her nothing but passion and kindness and opened her to a warmth she hadn’t felt before.

She felt so loved.

Noticing the tears that welled in her eyes, Spencer frowned, moving his hands up to cup her cheeks sweetly. “Why’re you crying?”

“Thank you.”

His frown deepened. “For what?”

“For showing me how beautiful love can be. For loving me. And for allowing me to love you in return.” She whispered, and he smiled down at her.

“It was never a choice. Falling in love with you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

She just nodded at him, moving forward to connect their lips again. She let herself get lost in the euphoric feeling that his love gave her. And while there was no string of words that could correctly convey just how she felt, she knew one that summed it up nicely.

Paradise.

Tag list ; @beyonces-breastmilk @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @thelovelyrose @averyhotchner @cynbx

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg #criminal minds

737 notes · View notes

let-them-read-fics · 4 years

Text

The Finer Things

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 4,864

Warnings / Misc. -- Pining, Some Self Doubt, Fluff, Some Angst, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Blackpink. I hope you enjoy. Happy reading, as always! Let me know what you think.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Part 1: Partners

“Alright class, settle in now. Today we’ll be starting our new projects. You know the drill; they’ll be a quarter semester long, and you’ll have a partner to work with. That gives you 9 weeks to complete the assignment and be ready to present your creations. Your topic is “the finer things in life”. Remember: there’s no exact way to do this. Whatever that topic means, however you interpret it, just show us what you envision when you think of that. I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

Unsurprisingly, everyone is rather excited for this project. Considering this class is an elective, your classmates signed up for it knowing what they were getting themselves into. Regardless, even the stray few that enrolled for an easy A would rather do this than Calculus and Statistics.

Your eyes scan the room, and you smile upon seeing everyone light up as they discuss their game plans. Familiar eyes meet yours from across the room, and you feel a blush begin to rise to your cheeks. You mentally curse yourself at how easy it is for her to make you giddy, but you don’t look away. The small smile that she gives you nearly makes you combust from the cuteness; you can’t help the dorky grin that takes over your features.

Before you can fully melt under her gaze, your teacher speaks up again. You silently thank the universe for that divine intervention. “Now that you’ve had a minute to brainstorm, it’s time for everyone’s favorite part: partner time! I’ve chosen your partners based on your individual strengths and weaknesses as photographers; I want this to be a true learning experience for all of you. Being an artist takes constant growth, and I see this as the perfect opportunity.”

Since your class is a fairly close-knit group of students, no one’s upset by who their partners are. Mrs. Johnson continues rattling off the pairs, and you take a moment to look out the window. It’s a beautiful day, the trees swaying gently in the breeze. The vivid red hues of their leaves are complimented perfectly by the bright blue sky behind them.

“...Y/N, you’ll be working with Rosé.” The second those words leave her lips, your eyes shoot to your partner’s. It’s an odd feeling, to put it plainly; those were the words that you were dying to hear, but also terrified of. After all, working so closely with your long-time crush would definitely prove to be nerve racking. You didn’t have much time to worry, though, as Rosé sat down at the desk in front of you, turning the chair around to face you. It was clear that she loved to see what she did to you, your reactions to her words, everything. She studied you like her life depended on it, but you never noticed. Your brain was always too busy short-circuiting to take in the ways that she watched you from afar, remembering every detail, curve, and dimple of your face.

“So, how about we meet up after school today to get some ideas going?” She proposes, and you nod. “How’s the park sound? I’d hate to miss such a gorgeous day.” Her face lights up at your suggestion, and you smile at the sight. In her excited state, she rushes out, “That’s just what I was thinking!” The two of you spend the rest of class chatting and goofing around, and go your separate ways once the bell rings. You send her one last wave, already missing her presence. To say the two of you are eager for your next meeting is a major understatement.

Part 2: The First Few Meetings

The first couple weeks are spent getting to know one another better and spending more time together -- something you definitely weren’t complaining about. Seeing her out of school, able to really be herself, was a magical experience. You often thanked your lucky stars that you decided to sign up for the class in the first place.

Part 3: You Go To One Of Her Practices

Attending school practices and games was never really your speed, but you made an exception for Rosé. Some family issues had gotten in the way of your meet-ups for a bit, so the two of you were a little behind schedule for the project. You weren’t worried (the honor student in you knew that you’d get it done in time), but Rosé asked you to stay after school for one of her cheerleading practices. “We can work on it everytime coach gives us a break, okay?” She had said earlier that day, during class. You were almost too mesmerized by the way her lips moved while she spoke to comprehend what she had said, her accent popping out in the most adorable way possible.

The memory brought a light smile to your face, and she saw it, stealing a glance at you. You looked up at her and tilted your head to the side, letting her know she’d been caught. Her eyes widened in shock and she quickly cleared her throat, clearly not expecting that.

~~~

“Ah, ah, ah,” you protested, blocking her from sitting down in the seat beside you. “Stand in front of me, I wanna take a picture.” She put on a horrified face, looking down at you. “Excuse me?? Absolutely not! I look terrible. I’m all sweaty.” You rolled your eyes at her, letting out a dramatic sigh. “I’m sorry to inform you, Rosé, but you’re physically incapable of looking bad. My condolences.” You bowed your head in mock pity, adding to the effect. “Oh shut up, you dork.” She said, pushing you playfully. “Fine. One picture; you better make it a good one.” You smiled your signature grin at her, and she got a little lightheaded at the beautiful sight. “1, 2, 3…”

Part 3.5: Could It Be?

“Rosé, I don’t know….” You begin, a grimace crossing your face. The object of your affection had spent the past 10 minutes trying to convince you to ditch work and accompany her to the local fair that was in town for the weekend. It’s not that you didn’t want to go; in fact, you can’t think of a place you’d rather be tonight than with her, getting away from the stress of everything life had been throwing at you. If you were honest with yourself, though, the work was just an excuse for something bigger; you knew that with each step closer you got to Rosé, you would eventually be taking two steps back. You had long ago assured yourself that she didn’t share your attraction, and you had done okay in accepting that fact. By okay I mean “totally not at all, even in the slightest.” You liked to pretend, though, wanting to have some semblance of control over the situation.

“Pleeeeease?” She whined into the phone, drawing the word out to torture you a little more. Surely she had to know what she was doing.

That simple question served as your command, and it became very apparent in that moment that you’d do just about anything that Rosé asked you to. You kicked yourself, a genuine feeling of nervousness rushing over you.

A sigh left your lips as you responded, “Okay, okay! But only for a little while.”

Her high pitched cheering drew a laugh from you, and you shook your head at her antics. What were you getting yourself into?

~~~~~

Rosé looked stunning, as usual. Her long blonde locks fell elegantly over her shoulders, looking just as soft as always. The pink top she donned complimented her light blue jeans perfectly; if you weren’t so enraptured by her, you might’ve gotten jealous. How can someone look so gorgeous without even trying? It’s infuriating, to say the least.

“Ready?” Her cheery accent met your ears, and you felt yourself pep up at the single utterance. Dear lord, you’re in deep. Pushing the thoughts from your head, you send her a simple smile and nod, pulling her in for a hug.

Freezing time had never been a thing that you thought about often, but it surely crossed your mind as you stood there with her in your arms, feeling her skin against yours. All too quickly she pulled away, already rambling excitedly about all of the rides she wanted to try out. You were still in a bit of a daze, her strawberry perfume making your head spin. Before you know it, she has a hold of your hand, dragging you towards the largest drop tower that the festival had to offer. Maybe this would be a good time to mention that you’re deathly afraid of heights…

~~~~

Hair disheveled and heart palpitating, you stumbled away from the ride. It was comical really, the state you were in. Rosé must have thought so, because she couldn’t contain her laughter once she looked over at you. The sound was music to your ears, and you quickly decided that you’d be willing to get back on that ride if it meant you could hear her giggle like that again.

After your laughing fit died down, you suggested getting on the ferris wheel to see all of the city lights. Everything burned a little brighter this time of year, the downtown area bustling with life and activity.

“I was just about to mention that. I like the way you think, Y/N.” The combination of the look she gave you and the way your name rolled off of her tongue made you weak in the knees. Before your mind could even begin to question if she had meant something else -- something deeper -- you stopped yourself. It wouldn’t do any good to read too far into the things she said. It was just innocent teasing, you reasoned.

You failed to notice the way Rosé had looked at you, her eyes taking in every part of you. She wanted to remember this sight; your head thrown back, eyes welling with tears of laughter. When you didn’t pick up on her flirting, though, she took it as a sign to back off a bit. Surely it had been obvious, right? She told herself she’d give it one more try, by the end of the night. No matter your reaction, she would have an answer.

With that decision made, she led the way to the ferris wheel, you trailing happily behind her.

“Two?” The worker looked to be about your age, face marked with acne scars, and attitude already unpleasant. With a simple gesture of confirmation, the two of you made your way to the nearest cart. You held the small gate open, allowing Rosé in first. The metal was cool against your palm as you closed it after yourself.

A chilly breeze rolled in, and you noticed her body shiver in the seat across from you. You could tell she tried to hide it, but you were far too observant to miss that. “Here,” you start, already pulling your leather jacket off of yourself and offering it to her. She shook her head furiously, saying, “No, I can’t. You’ll get cold up there!” Maybe it had been the slushy you had earlier, but you got a sudden surge of confidence. “Come over here, then. We’ll keep each other warm.” Her eyes shined with something you couldn’t quite place; something mischievous, perhaps.

She quickly repositioned herself next to you, snuggling up against your side. “You’re still putting this on, Rosé.” You say lowly, lips grazing her temple. The way the words left your mouth, so matter-of-factly, made her bite her lip. You rarely told anyone what to do, so this role reversal was a bit unexpected. A welcome surprise, she thought, as she slipped the warm material over her shoulders.

~~~~

If someone offered you a million dollars to be anywhere else in the world right now, you would turn them down. You were sure that you had died and gone to Heaven, with how Rosé’s body fit perfectly up against yours and the distant skyline looked as though it had been stolen from a postcard.

Once the cart reached the top, the ride stopped for a short while, allowing you to get a picturesque view of the surrounding area. You grabbed the camera from your bag and snapped a few pictures, not wanting to forget this moment. A quiet wow left her mouth as she leaned over you, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. Has she never seen the lights like this? The untamed beating of your heart echoed wildly at the feeling of having her so close. You prayed she wouldn’t notice the tremble that ran through you as she placed her hand on your thigh, pushing herself up higher into the air for a better perspective. She must’ve noticed something in the distance, because soon she was pointing across the city and bouncing lightly in the seat. With some help, you located what she was so excited about: it was an inflatable cat. She had been that giddy over an inflatable animal on the porch of someone’s apartment. Such a dork, you muttered. She drew in a breath, feigning disbelief. “I am not!” She started, about to defend her honor, when she turned her head. In the excitement, the two of you had pressed closer together -- much closer than either of you had realized -- and now you were face to face. Your eyes darted down to her lips, and you almost threw caution to the wind and closed the distance. You didn’t, though, still missing the signs she was sending you. Her gaze raked across your features, and she grew bold; her hand came up to your cheek, her thumb soon brushing the soft skin. She was achingly close; you could feel the warmth radiating from her body, calling for you.

This cycle continued; both of you waiting for the other to make the first move, terrified that the other didn’t feel the same. It was a wicked game of cat and mouse, and you were finally getting the courage to end it. Just as you were about to lean in, the rickety ride started back up again with a groan, and she was jostled away from you, back into the seat.

That had to be some sort of symbolism.

The rest of your night went well, soon again filled with laughter and jokes, but the two of you couldn’t shake what happened. There was an air of something uncertain now, and only something significant was capable of putting an end to this cruel arrangement.

Part 4: The Realization

“Shit!” You exclaim with a huff, realizing your mistake. “Rosie, do you have any extra film for the polaroid? I lost the last pack I had.” You mentally slap yourself for that one. When you don’t get a response, which is quite unusual for Rosé, you take that as a sign to go look for her. The two of you had chosen to work on the project at her house this time, and it was definitely more spacious than yours. “Rosie?” You call out to her again, checking the rooms as you pass them. Sniffling sounds perk up your ears, and you follow them to their source: the bathroom. “What happened, Rose?” She just sniffles again, letting out a defeated sigh. “It’s nothing, Y/N. I’m okay.” You shake your head, a pained look taking over your features. Knowing that she was hurting killed you. “I don’t believe you. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but at least let me cheer you up. Please?” You plead through the door, waiting rather impatiently for her response. Wordlessly, she gathers herself and opens it, choosing to lean against the frame and meet your concerned gaze. “It’s Joon. He’s being an ass.” You set your jaw and quickly bite your tongue, not wanting to upset her more. Her sweater is soaked and matted with tears, large stains polka-dotting the fluffy material.

Who’s Joon, you may ask? Rosé’s boyfriend and star of the football team… aka your arch nemesis. The two of you typically avoided talking about him, and dating in general. As far as you were concerned, he wasn’t deserving of the attention. A muffled sob pulls you from your stewing session, and you’re quick to step forward and wipe away her tears. You cup her cheeks, softening at the way she leans into your embrace. It’s not hard to tell that she doesn’t get the love that she deserves. “You’re too good for him, Rose. He’s never deserved you.” You say softly, tired of seeing her being mistreated. One instance of this was more than enough, and knowing that this isn’t the first time that he’s been the reason for her tears makes your blood boil. You pull her in, and she rests her head against your chest. If circumstances were different, you would’ve been terrified to have her so close; however, that’s not at the forefront of your mind right now. You’re determined to be there for her, even if it’ll never be in the way you want. “You should be with someone who values you. You can do so much better.” You whisper against her temple -- just loud enough for her to hear -- lips in the same position as they were that night at the fair. It comes out as a gentle confession, but you say it like the simple fact it is.

After a few more moments of holding her close, her sweet vanilla perfume in the air, she shifts in your arms. Her eyes find yours, and the moment seems as though it was plucked out of some cheesy, coming of age movie. Something within both of you clicks at that point, and you just know. Her slightly puffy features look especially adorable right now, her eyes sparkling. That always seemed like such a strange, poetic thing to you -- how some people can manage to look so stunning after crying. It’s as though she needed that, in some twisted way. It opened her eyes to the situation she was in, although it hurt. She knew she could get through anything, though, with you by her side. And standing there, wrapped in your warmth, she really couldn’t find it in herself to even think of Joon.

Your eyes fell to her lips, and she didn’t fail to notice. God, those lips. You thought, remembering all of the times you’ve wanted to kiss her. She somehow managed to be utterly perfect without even trying. Your heart rate sped up at the feeling of her hands working their way down to your waist, gripping your hips tightly. The atmosphere shifted, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. “Y/N…” she says lowly, almost as if she’s trying to keep herself from doing something stupid. “Hmm?” You drag out, causing her to bite her lip in return. Just as the two of you lean in ever closer, the sounds of keys jangling downstairs interrupts your moment. Feeling brave, and not wanting that encounter to pass with nothing to show for it, you give her a sweet kiss on the cheek. You chuckle lightly at the whine that leaves her lips, and take a minute to gather yourself before leading the way downstairs to greet her parents.

----

Over the next few days, neither of you mention all that’s happened. You want to, but you have no idea how; your nerves would surely get the best of you. And what if she didn’t feel the same? How embarrassing would that be? You wanted nothing more than to have that Hallmark, fairytale ending with her, but you knew that was unrealistic. So, you did what you do best; you continued falling for her from afar, attempting to settle into this routine.

Little did you know that she hadn’t stopped thinking about it. She often found herself stroking her cheek, where your hand had been that night. If she focused hard enough, she could almost remember the smell of your tropical shampoo, too. Her feelings confused her, but she knew what she wanted. Her fear of rejection outweighed her courage, though, and she never knew how to tell you that she had fallen for you.

Part 5: An Overheard Conversation

As you made your way through the halls and towards the library, your mind wandered to a place it often frequented: Rosé. You had been so caught up in other things that you hadn’t really registered that the project would be over soon. It saddened you to think about, but maybe it was for the best. Perhaps a little distance between the two of you would make it easier to ignore your feelings. Turning the corner, you collided with someone, sending their books into the floor. “I’m so sorry!” You apologize quickly, making sure they’re alright, before helping them gather their things. They do the same, and continue on their way as you readjust your clothes.

At the sound of that achingly familiar voice, you freeze.

“I broke up with him, Jennie.”

That’s all it took for you to press yourself up against the wall, set on listening in on the conversation without getting caught. Part of you felt bad for doing that, but there was no way you were leaving now.

“Good, he never deserved you anyway.” The other girl, Jennie, said, and you made a mental note to give her a high five later on.

“He took me for granted. I’m just upset it took me so long to realize it.”

“Hey, don’t do that. You remembered your worth and didn’t let that jackass hurt you anymore. That’s queen status, if you ask me.” Make that a double high five.

The sounds of her locker being closed lead you to believe that the girls are about to walk away and end the conversation, but you soon stop dead in your tracks, yet again.

“There’s another reason that I ended things, though, and I’ve been meaning to tell you about it.”

“Ooh, do tell.”

Rosé clears her throat, and quickly checks to make sure the coast is clear before speaking again. Thank God she didn’t notice your presence.

“I’ve liked this person for a really long time, Jennie.” She confesses, before continuing. “They’re always there for me when I need them… and don’t even get me started on how adorable they are.”

Jennie chuckles at Rosé’s words, and you can see her shake her head. “What??” Rosé asks, pushing her shoulder lightly.

“You’ve got it bad. I’ve never seen you blush like that at just the thought of someone. And that’s saying something.”

Rosé hides her face in her hands, embarrassed but amused. “She’s just so incredible.”

Your heart stops, blood running cold in your veins, and your hand shoots up to cover your mouth. Does Jennie know she likes girls? SHE LIKES GIRLS?? I mean, you had thought so after that night but she’d never admitted it before.

“She?” Jennie asks gently, not even a trace of judgement in her tone. A little surprise, sure, but nothing bad. Rosé simply takes a deep breath and nods her head, waiting for her best friend’s reaction to her slip up. It’s not that she thought she would be unaccepting, just that these kinds of things were a little bit of a shock to hear sometimes.

“Well, who is she? I’ll have to do some snooping on your next potential love interest.”

Rosé lets out a giggle, and you almost blow your cover by laughing with her.

“You won’t be getting that information out of me yet, Jennie. No way.” She says, taking the other girl’s hand and leading her down the hallway, away from you.

Once alone again, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. Could you be that girl?

Part 6: Presentation Day

As you make your way to your seat, you let out a tired yawn; you had stayed up late adding some last minute touches to your presentation. You wanted it to be a surprise for Rosé, so you hadn’t told her about what you had done. Hopefully she would enjoy it.

The other groups each took turns showcasing their projects and explaining what the prompt had meant to them. Some said “money”, “luxury”, “time”, etc. Your answer was a bit different than theirs, and you were excited to share it with everyone.

Once it was your turn to present, you made your way up to the front of the room, selecting the correct files and connecting your device with the projector. Rosé could sense that you were anxious, which wasn’t new for you; school presentations had always made you nervous. Silently, she took your hand within her own and rubbed her thumb across your knuckles. None of the class was paying much attention yet, since you were still technically getting set up, and you were beyond thankful for that intimate moment with her.

A short time later, you begin.

Rosé expertly introduces the different topics you chose to cover with the prompt, explaining their meaning with sincerity. Images of old couples smiling, holding one another close, graced the screen when she brought up “growing old together” as a finer thing in life. “Not everyone gets the opportunity to do that with who they love,” she said, and you noticed that her eyes went to you when she said that. Maybe you just imagined that last part, you thought to yourself. Surely so.

Other slides of animals, pets, and nature appeared as she continued her speech, followed by her suggestion that “the act of loving and preserving Earth and its creatures” is another finer thing in life.

This process continued, with you jumping in for the slides that you had chosen to take over for.

Upon hearing Rosé finish her last stretch of rehearsed dialogue, you look to your teacher, who gives you a subtle nod and smile. Rosé shoots you a confused look, but you don’t answer her with words. You move a nearby chair to face the board before bringing her to it. She sits, even more confused now, but trusting you.

You swallow nervously, and lick your lips. “Over these past couple months, Rosé and I shared new experiences,” with a click of the remote, images of your adventures flood the screen -- your trips to the lake, forest, park, and even the beach, capture the attention of the class. Rosé was right there with them, considering she had never seen some of these pictures, let alone expected you to present them. “We tried new foods, left our comfort zone, and learned more about each other.” More images popped up; some from when you went on a tour of the different restaurants around town, some from bungee jumping, cave exploring, and open water fishing.

“But as we grew closer, I realized more about myself in the process. I’m totally, utterly, and undeniably in love with you, Rosé.” The next set of candid images shows a new glint in your eyes when you look at each other; this was when you had really gotten in deep. You shyly raise your eyes to hers, your stomach in knots. Tears are quickly forming in her eyes, and she’s covering her mouth to quiet herself. “You make me happier than I’ve ever been, and life feels better with you. You are my finer thing in life.” Despite all of the emotions she’s feeling right now, she smiles at the dorky pictures of the two of you doing random things during your shared escapades.

Finally, you click to the last slide, revealing a series of pictures of you spelling out, “Be mine?”

This was the final straw; tears finally make their way down her face, spilling onto her soft cheeks. You nod at Mrs. Johnson the same way she had done before, and she swiftly bends down to grab something beneath her desk. When she returns, she hands you a single red rose. “OMG! A rose for Rosé, how cute!” One of your classmates yells from the back of the room, and you laugh aloud. That broke the tension, and soon all of you were giggling loudly together. “Well, whaddya say?” You ask, holding out the rose to her in offering. Wordlessly, she takes the flower and wraps her arms around your neck, connecting your lips in a long overdue kiss. The class erupts at this and she smiles against you.

“Mission accomplished.” Mrs. Johnson says to herself, once everyone is settled back in their seats and chatting about what happened. “I was hoping that would work out.” Confused, you decide to inquire. Reluctantly taking your eyes off of Rosé, you look to your teacher and ask, “Did you plan this from the beginning?” She gives you a curious look before scoffing, “I’m practically a matchmaker, Y/N. I saw the way the two of you looked at each other. It would’ve been a crime not to pair you up.”

Your mouth hangs agape as you look back to Rosé, finding her donning a similar expression. “I was tricked into the plan!” You realize, laughing with her. “It was destiny, then.” She says, pulling you in by your collar for yet another kiss, loving the feeling of your blushing cheeks against her own.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Thanks for reading!!!

#rosé x reader #rosé #blackpink #k-pop #k-pop blackpink #rosé blackpink #rosé x fem reader #chaeyoung #park chaeyoung #roseanne #kpop girl group #jennie #let-them-read-fics #blackpink oneshot #blackpink imagine #rosé imagine

310 notes · View notes

jostepherjoestar · 4 years

Note

Hewwo queen😔if you're still taking requests, could I ask one with la squadra and an artist s/o? Thank you💕💕💕

La Squadra with an artist s/o

sfw // gn reader // First of all... this was the request I mentioned before. I want everyone the address me with “Hewwo Queen😔” from now on!! it make me laugh so hard cause it reminds me of the “then perish” meme thanks for the lovely request <3

Risotto

Risotto admires your talent, often times when he’s trying his best to relax for once, he finds himself looking through your sketchbooks and drawings. He loves seeing your progress and noticing how you always seem to capture the lighting right.

When he gets to your most recent sketchbooks he starts to notice a familiar figure pop up a lot. Himself. Drawn in all sort of poses, his muscles being a great way to study body shapes as you tried to explain with a cheeky grin on your face when he asks you to explain your drawings of him.

On a quiet night you snuck up to your tall boyfriend, as well as you could sneak up on an assassin, with a present behind your back. Excited to see his reaction you handed him the wrapped canvas. Risotto made sure not to rip the pretty wrapping and had a stern look on his face as he saw the surface of the painting. You knew not to expect too much from him reaction wise so you were curious to hear what he had to say.

He just kept staring at the canvas, it was a painting of the only picture you had together. Privacy being a real issue in Passione. You’d asked Melone to take the photo when Risotto was asleep and you posed beside him, kissing him on the cheek. You’d showed him the picture, promising to keep it on you at all times and not to show it to anyone.

“I love it. So much, really darling this- Thank you.” he almost sounded flustered, reaching out to hug you. His reaction was so sweet, you knew he truly loved it. He placed it on the wall near his desk so he could look at it whenever he was working away, like most nights. A couple days later you found a wrapped pencil case on your drawing desk, new pencils, your favourite kind. A little stick man drawn on the card that said “I love you” in a crooked text bubble.

Formaggio

He’s in constant awe of how good you are, constantly praising you and showing off to anyone who’ll listen. He once showed a small drawing you did of a flower he kept in his wallet to a waiter while paying for the meal, embarrassing you to the max.

Seeing you study plants, people, landscapes, buildings, lighting, shadows, basically everything, he tried to see the world through your artistic eyes. He’d never really payed attention to expressing himself that way so he was curious to try.

Setting up canvasses or sketchbooks, all sorts of materials laid out in front of you to experiment with. You set up a still life on the table in front of you, a vase of flowers and some fruit strewn about. Assuring him this isn’t about how pretty or perfect the result is, but about how he sees the setup and wants to express it on the canvas or paper.

After both finishing you’re amazed by the colours he used and how abstract he painted the flowers and fruits. Your complements boosting his confidence. “But you’re still the real artist here sweetheart.” he said as he squeezed your hip as he admired your sketch.

You put his little painting in a frame and set it on your drawing desk, reminding yourself of your number one fan whenever you looked at it. It became a new relaxing activity for the two of you to enjoy with a glass of wine and snacks as you painted and drew together.

Illuso

Illuso loves art, but in particular he loves renaissance art. Whenever you two can, you’ll visit a gallery to admire the large paintings and sculptures. Illuso is quite judgy as well, offering no soft commentary on work he doesn’t enjoy. It’s mostly modern art he doesn’t like.

You try out different styles every now and then whenever you feel stuck in your own personal one, seeing if it could inspire you. To help in those situations Illuso has bought you multiple heavy books on his favourite painters. He isn’t afraid to venture into more recent styles, but he keeps it mostly to Italian or European artists.

When you tried out a more modern style in your newest experiment, he was surprised that he liked it as much as he did. “This is actually pretty good amore.” the complement sounding perhaps more like an insult, but you knew he meant it well.

Illuso himself however couldn’t draw, paint, sculpt or even photograph. He just had a hard time expressing himself in an artistic way, commenting one day that “Can’t I just be the art myself?” earning a chuckle from you.

Prosciutto

Now Prosciutto likes art, classical paintings and sculptures but he doesn’t pay them any mind for too long. Yes it’s nice to look at but honestly he’d rather spend his time on other stuff. So when he met you he learned to appreciate art more. You’d show him around your workspace and show him the projects you’re working on.

The more you showed him the more he realised that being an artist isn’t just a hobby, it could also be a job as well. He never really thought it about it this way, realising that art is literally all around him. You were able to broaden his view, that you teased was sometimes a little too narrow.

He looks up to you for being able to express you thoughts and ideas and make something beautiful out of them.

As a gang member who has a lot of responsibility he prefers to spend his little amount of free time with the people he loves and trusts, like sitting around reading the paper or a book while you’re working away at your next piece.

Whenever you make him something, be it a drawing, painting, sculpture, and tell him he inspired it he will try his best not to blush. Taking you into a tight hug to cover up his face, thanking you for thinking of him. Honestly he loves that you’re creative and made him open his eyes a little more to the world he thought he already knew so well.

Pesci

The two of you have a cute tradition ever since you started going out together. A couple dates in, he slid you a napkin, face flushed red, with a scraggily drawn Pesci asking if he could be your boyfriend. Of course you happily accepted, having kept the napkin and pinned it to your wall next to your bed. Since then every time you go out and there’s a napkin around the two of you draw each other a funny figure or object.

To the other’s chagrin sometimes, creating way too many inside jokes that they don’t get. What do they not get, it’s a bowl of pasta with cheese on it saying “Cheesed to meet you!”

Besides the cute napkin drawings you store safely in a box, Pesci loves helping you out whenever he can. If you need him to help transport stuff he’ll gladly rent a car and drive, making sure that the ride becomes a cute little date.

He’ll always cheer you on when you feel stuck, doing whatever he can to aid you. Or if you’re having another failed all nighter, fallen asleep on your desk, he’ll come pick you up and carry you to bed. Blushing when you kiss him on the nose to thank him for it.

Melone

Melone absolutely loves that you’re an artist! He loves analysing art and the way people respond to it, the human psyche just really excites him. Often times asking people what they were feeling or what they interpreted when looking at your work. Like he was asking around for a survey, it was just his own curiosity.

He also loves modelling for you. You want him to sit in the garden on a rock between the rose bushes? No problem! Nude? NO PROBLEM! He’ll suggest it every time you ask him to model, assuring him that you won’t need another upclose muscle study for a fourth time this week.

He’ll be your personal promoter and manager if you want him to be, making sure if you want a personal gallery opening that you don’t get scammed for rent and that you can hike up the prices just a tiny little more on your own pieces. He’ll get you connected faster than the speed of light if you want him to.

But most of all he admires how hard you work and the effort you put into your art. He sees a piece of you in every project. You’ll find him staring at your work, a love struck look in his eyes. He’s quite a sappy guy when it comes to this stuff.

Just be sure to not let him near anyone who doesn’t like your work. Another attempt at murder at a gallery opening is not the publicity you want.

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio loves abstract colourful art. Other styles that are too complicated or overhyped just makes him annoyed. He loves the simplicity of it, not paying any mind to any hidden meanings. If you do a lot of stuff in a modern or abstract style he’d pay you for the pieces even though he’s your partner. He just really loves supporting you and knows some people don’t compensate artists enough.

You were surprised at his interest, thinking him to not have the temper for art. Although you did discover, during a visit to a new modern exhibit in a local gallery, that Ghiaccio HATED it when the artists act pretentious and the vision of their work doesn’t match up with Ghiacco’s. Mumbling under his breath how “It’s just a square, a beautiful one yes, but it’s not representing how your mom didn’t love you!”.

You don’t comment too much on the meaning behind the modern pieces, he doesn’t seem like he wants to think about it anyway. So you let him enjoy the colourful shapes in his own way.

For his birthday you’d painted an abstract shapely piece in his colours; icy blue’s and the pop of red from his glasses and shoes. Swirly shapes that represented his hair. When you presented it to him his eyes lit up, earning you a passionate kiss that lasted a little too long, you had the rest of La Squadra waiting to eat the birthday dinner, eyerolls and clearing throats making Ghiacco let go with an annoyed growl. He loved it, since you made it and customised to him, he’ll cherish it forever.

#sfw #gender neutral reader #jjba x reader #la squadra headcanons #jjba headcanons #jjba part 5 headcanons #la squadra x reader #risotto x reader #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #cozy request

211 notes · View notes

giant-sketches · 4 years

Text

A Place to Belong

Finally have a nice Short Sides story done for you all to enjoy! This one has been on the back burner for a long time. I believe the prompt for this one came from @iggyalfi2319 like forever ago. XD Disclaimer: Crying/Fighting/Panic

This story includes 2 sketches

Word Count: 2392

Patton was never born to be a warrior. He was big yes, but more of a big sweetheart on the inside. Instead of fighting like the other giants he enjoyed his time outside with the flowers and animals. Violence simply wasn’t part of his inner nature, therefore, he was exiled from his homeland and sent to wonder. Patton didn’t mind though as every new place he explored was an adventure, however it was a lonely one.

A month passed without encountering a single soul, which might be for the best as Pat stood at a towering 200 feet tall. If anyone did see him they would most likely flee in fear. That would be so heartbreaking to witness! Yet, destiny seemed to have other plans when Patton did in fact run into a village that was almost completely secluded inside the forest he had currently been traversing. He hid himself in the shrubbery to watch the tiny people going about their day.

“Oh wow. Look at all of them!” Patton had never seen humans before. His eyes were filled with wonder. However, the shout of a guard who had spotted him through the thicket threw him into a full blown panic! “GIANT!!!”

Oh no! The surprised giant fled for his life, trying his best to not cause the ground to shake. Sure, he was in no real danger, the humans were much smaller than him; however, he didn’t wish to scare them by staying. Eventually, he came to a fluorescent cave, big enough to house him as he caught his breath. I haven’t been followed right? He looked around and sighed after confirming there was no one but him and the flora. What was he to do now though? Patton laid down, curling up on the cool cavern floor whimpering. Those humans looked so scared, even though he was just watching.

His heart ached at the creeping realization that there truly was nowhere he belonged in this world. “Why was I born like this? It’s not fair! I just wanted to be friends and help if I could.” He began to softly sob, unaware that he was being tracked by a mysterious hooded figure.

“He’s taken shelter here it seems.” The skulking figure glided his way into the cavern, not making a sound as the sound of sobbing echoed off the walls. Gingerly, he peeked out from one of the tunnel entrances and saw the giant he had been following on the floor in tears. It was...uncomfortable. Should he reveal himself now, or let the giant get it all out first. The mysterious man was not good with socializing, but he needed to be brave. Taking in a deep breath he took a step out of the shadows and spoke, “H-hello.”

His voice was no louder than a whisper, however Patton heard him clearly as he twisted his body up to a sitting position. The weeping giant stared at the figure, curious as to why they had revealed themselves, but also fearful of their intent. Was this a human from the village? Why were they here and how? Had he been followed and were there more hidden? Pat curled up a bit trying to look smaller, despite his enormous size.

“Ah, wait, i-it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you a-and it’s just me. I promise.” The figure raised his hands to show he was unarmed and took a few steps closer.

“Why are you here then? I-I didn’t mean any harm to the village or the people living there, I swear! I-I just wanted...I didn’t want to be alone any more.” Patton cried out as he pressed his knees to his chest and hugged them.

“I know. With your size you could have done whatever you wanted to us, but instead you ran away. You’re not like other giants are you?”

Patton nodded, starting to calm down and wipe his tears away. “I...I don’t want to hurt others. I just want to help and find some place I can live in peace. So please, please don’t be scared.” He whimpered into his hands.

The hooded figure, now close enough to rest his hand on Pat’s leg. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not scared. If I was I wouldn’t have followed you here and revealed myself.” Patton giggled a bit, “I suppose that’s true. Still, why are you here little one?” “I wanted to talk to you. I’m also...different.” “Different?” The man hesitated for a moment, but then lowered his hood to reveal a pair of pointed ears, along with his unusual purple locks. Patton’s eyes went wide with how beautiful the stranger was and blushed. “You...are you a half-breed?”

“Yeah, I’m a half-elf to be exact. My appearance is a mix of both and so I’m seen as abnormal among my fellow humans. They aren’t bad people, they just aren’t very open-minded sadly. Usually, I can get by with just wearing this hood to hide my features, but the thing they really can’t stand is my use of mag-”

“YOU CAN USE MAGIC!?” Suddenly, the man had been picked up by Patton and brought closer to his face. Pat, all the while with sparkles in his eyes. The stranger smiled as he made an orb of light appear and float around him. It was the most amazing thing the lonely giant had ever seen. “Wow.”

“I’m Virgil by the way.” “What? Oh you’re name! You can call me Patton.” Virgil blushed, this was nice. Being appreciated for his talent for once.

“It’s nice to meet you Virgil. Thank you for coming here and talking to me. I feel a lot better now.”

“I’m glad. You don’t deserve to be alone like this. I of all people know what that feels like.” His eyes lowered in melancholy thoughts of the past.

A past of losing his parents in the fire, being ostracized by the village, and having to hide his true self. It was painful and many times he thought of running away, but where could he go? Just then Virgil felt a large and soft surface pressed up against him. It was Patton’s finger rubbing up against his side to comfort him. “I can tell you’ve had a hard time, being different from everyone around you.” He went silent in his thoughts, gazing between Virgil in his hands and his current surroundings. “Y-you’re not scared right?” Virgil chuckled, “You’re asking me that now?” “I...just need to be sure.” Patton blushed, feeling embarrassed and closing his eyes. That’s when the sensation of tiny hands wrapping around his thumb made him focus. “Don’t worry. I won’t leave unless you want me to.” Pat’s face must have turned into a tomato as he simply nodded and gently brought his new little friend to his chest for what could only be interpreted as a hug. “Thank you.”

Patton was warm, like really warm as Virgil snuggled into his shirt a bit. The moment was pure bliss as the two felt so at home with one another. Yet, events outside were now coming to end their tender moment together. A large shockwave rumbled from above them.

“W-what was that?!” Pat exclaimed, now guarding Virgil in his hands and crawling out of the cave to take a look. “I don’t know. Do you see anything?” He looked around quickly and froze at what he saw. “The village! It’s being attacked by a dragon!” “WHAT?! Are you kidding me? What is a dragon doing all the way out here?” “I-I don’t know, but we need to do something. There’s no way they have anyone strong enough to fend it off.” “Can you fend it off?” Patton wasn’t sure really. Again, his combat experience was miniscule, but he was still a giant. Even though the dragon was big, he was bigger! “I can try, will you help me?” Virgil smiled, “Of course Patton. What do you need?” What did he need? “Buffs, can you cast any buffs on me?” The tiny sorcerer did know a few spells for buffing, but there was one he found when exploring an abandoned house a long time ago that might be just what they needed right now. “Yeah! You go get it’s attention and all start casting. Drop me off at that cliffside real quick. I have to be able to see you to cast it.” “Alright!”

With a plan in motion, Virgil was left to draw out the casting circle as he watched Patton tackle the monster away from the village, slamming it into the foot of the mountain. He had a good 50 feet on the beast, but the difference in height didn’t scare it away. It could sense how much of an amateur Pat was as it lunged to take a bite. Luckily, Patton was quite agile and could dodge the attacks, for now at least. Each second was a battle of survival. The friendly giant calling out to the cowering people to get to higher ground and keep in groups as they made their way into the forest to hide. Not too far where they couldn’t still watch to see who would be the victor though.

“The circles done! Now to start the chant.” Virgil took his position in the center of the circle and began casting. “Nascuntur, crescunt maior quam. Imbui possent immensa” Three times he said this as a light glow began to cover Patton’s body.

It tingled as he felt more and more power enter into him. It wasn’t long until he noticed he was growing bigger and bigger. He gave a heavy gasp when it was all done and his body relaxed. Patton felt stronger now! Quickly, he looked around to find the dragon...but it was gone?

“Below you!” Came a familiar voice. It was Virgil! What did he mean by below though?

Curious, Pat looked down to find a now very tiny dragon quivering at his feet. What in the world!? Freaked out, Patton tripped over himself and landed on the mountain, taking out half of it with his now enlarged body. He was HUGE! “What? What happened to me?!” He was scared and confused.

“Patton! It’s okay, it’s just the spell. It increased your size and strength by ten fold.” TEN FOLD?!?! Wait...that meant he was ten times his usual size. He gulped, “Then, d-doesn’t that mean I’m now 2000 feet tall?” Virgil went silent, but nodded. Oh boy. Patton turned his attention to the dragon once more. The poor thing was now too terrified to even move. “You poor thing. Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” It was strange looking at the creature in a tender manner now after that fierce battle.

The dragon titled it’s head, but could tell Pat didn’t mean any harm as it bounced up his body and started nuzzling into his neck like a kitten. It was adorable! Still, what was he going to do now? This spell wasn’t permanent was it? In his worrying, the titan hadn’t even noticed the village people returning and coming over to him. Virgil did though, as he hurried over using some wind magic to help him glide down. He landed perfectly on Patton’s knee and took a moment to take the giant’s new size all in. He truly was enormous!

Pat felt something land on him as he looked up to see Virgil sitting on him. “Virgil! Are you alright? I know doing high level spells can tire someone out.” His concern was really cute. “Yeah, I’m alright, but what about you?” “Well...I defeated the dragon, or more so made it my pet I guess.” He giggled, though still uneasy. “Virgil, um, this isn’t permanent is it?”

There was the question he was waiting on, but really didn’t want to answer. “Yes and no. There is a reversal spell, I just don’t know it.” Virgil mumbled out sheepishly. Meanwhile, Patton’s blood ran cold as images of his new reality flashed before his mind. A monster beyond belief! He started to shake and choke on his sobs. In a panic Virgil slid down the giant’s pant leg and started climbing up his shirt.

“Pat, no, please don’t cry. It’s going to be okay I promise. I’m so sorry I did this to you!” He pleaded constantly as he climbed. Patton hiccupped as he wiped his eyes to see his tiny friend’s frantic face. “It’s not your fault. You were just doing what I asked.”

Gently, he pinched Virgil up and placed him on the bridge of his nose. “At least you’re still here with me Virgil. I’m so afraid of never being welcomed anywhere because of my size, but at least I have one person who accepts me.” “That’s right. No matter what size you are, I know you’re a very kind and warm person Patton.”

Virgil leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Patton and began rubbing the bridge of the nose to soothe the giant. Pat blushed and let himself enjoy Virgil’s touch. Then more tiny hands reached out towards him. It was the villagers, petting his hand. “Thank you! Thank you so much for saving us!” “We would have died without your help!” “You’re not hurt anywhere right?” “We’re so sorry for chasing you away before.”

Continued praise and concern left their mouths as they kissed his hand and rubbed it in circling motions. Patton was stunned that they had all come so close to him and even more thanked him for his help. “You all...y-you’re not afraid of me? Even though I’m so much bigger than before?” “Of course not! You're our savior along with Virgil. We know now you never meant us any harm and we apologize greatly for our poor behavior towards you.” “Same with you Virgil. We realize how we’ve been treating you for the past years was unacceptable. Could we start again?”

Virgil huffed a bit, but floated down nonetheless. He looked at the people and their worried faces, but then extended a hand out to them. “If you’re willing to change and accept us both, I suppose I can’t say no.” The villagers rejoiced! They sang and cheered for their heroes! Finally, after his long journey, Patton had somewhere he belonged and someone who loved him.

The End

@thought-u-said-dragon-queen @sanderssidestrash27 @nomynameisanon @crystalk17 @notkolaidoscop

79 notes · View notes

saphirered · 4 years

Note

Lovely Caleb fic! Could I get a confession of love fix that involved Caleb kissing the hands of a bewildered reader?

Thank you for the request! I hope this is to your liking!

It’s rather late. Well, you think it is. It’s kind of difficult to tell in Rosohna’s eternal darkness. At least you were sure it’s been a long day. You find yourself wandering the halls of the Xhorhaus. The last few months have been crazy, hectic and you’d have to admit your life has been turned upside down but you wouldn’t change if for the world. You found friends, family even. Reminiscing you find your mind gravitate towards fond memories of your favourite wizard. Dragging him along on a little shopping spree for spell components, the excited rants he goes on when you ask for his advise on this new spell you found, the talks about nothing when you shared a watch, holding his hand while Yasha shaved his beard with her sword, giggling about a little prank you played on a very grumpy looking halfling shopkeeper in Zadash, drunken nights sharing a bottle after a successful job completed, him falling asleep with his head on your shoulder, caring for each other’s injuries, the rare dance in the tavern…

Not as insightful as Caduceus may be but you weren’t blind either. It’s clear Caleb seems more comfortable around you than anyone save for Nott maybe, a different kind of comfort still. You’ve been consciously picking up on a shift in his behaviour for a while now. Your favorite wizard has been getting closer and more affectionate towards you but you’ve known him for a while now and you can’t help but pick up on this. His recent shift in behavior gave you butterflies in your stomach, something more than friendship but you didn’t feel it was the right time to tell him how you feel. Besides, what his feelings don’t extend beyond care right? This is no different than his relationship with Beau or Nott. Love is a strong term and one you may not hand out so freely but you know yourself well enough these feelings you’re experiencing are love. You just don’t want to ruin your friendship because he’s not ready, not comfortable or doesn’t reciprocate your feelings in the same way after all. Caleb has come out of his shell and made so much progress, growing more comfortable and open around you and that’s extending to those around him too. You don’t want him to crawl back into that shell again. You value him more than that.

Quietly you get some dried herbs from a sleeping Caduceus’ stash and wander into the kitchen to make some tea. You’re pretty sure you’re the only one still awake as everyone was quite exhausted after your return. Trying to start a flame to boil the water proved more difficult than you had hoped. Growing frustrated with the flint and steel you slam them on the counter a little too hard. You cringe squeezing your eyes tight shut and listen. Okay… seems like no one woke up from that. You glare at the kettle half the mind to toss it out of the window. Stupid tea. Stupid fire. You take a breather leaning your head against one of the shelves above the counter.

“It looks like we had the same idea.” You almost jump out of your skin quickly covering your mouth to prevent a scream to escape from your lips. You see a bleary eyed Caleb looking about as disheveled as expected standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Don’t scare me like that you idiot!” You toss a towel at him. It hits, draping over one shoulder and he just gives you a ‘really?’ expression as you feel the blood rush from the scare fade.

“You’re having trouble, ja?” He says more than asks referring to the still cold kettle.

“You have to make me feel worse about not being able to get a flame going to brew some tea?” You say in jest as you grab another cup for him. Caleb walks over taking your spot and with a snap of the fingers the flame is lit.

“It is not that difficult.” He jokes back fully aware that your expertise lays not with fire magic. You have many other talents, he’s told you so himself many times praising you for them. You grab the towel draped over his shoulder, fold it neatly and put it back on the counter.

“Your help is appreciated oh grand master magician.” You give him a side hug which he returns wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you wait for the water to boil.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask watching drops of condensation build up on the outside of the kettle.

“Ah, no. Uh, wandering thoughts.” Caleb sounds like he’s only half paying attention. Wandering thoughts indeed.

“Wanna talk about it?” You offer as the kettle starts whistling and you remove it from the heat before it gets too loud and begin preparing the teapot. You take a step closer to the counter, Caleb’s hand falling from your shoulder to your lower back.

“I… uh-“ He hesitates and you swear when you look over your shoulder for just a second you can see a slight blush creep up his cheeks.

“Caleb, you know you can tell me anything, right?” He manages to get out a ‘yes’ under his breath so you grab a tray, put the teacups and saucers, the teapot and grab some biscuits from a jar hidden behind the vast array of herbs and spices to avoid a certain Tiefling from claiming them all. Balancing the tray on one hand you turn around and grab his hand, guiding him along into the living room. You put the tray on the table and make Caleb sit down on the couch as you sit down next to him. You can see him take a deep breath and he refuses to meet your eye. Though, that’s not entirely out of character for the wizard so you give him time and space as you pour the tea in each of your cups. With a wave of your hand you cool the hot water to a less scalding but still warm level.

“I know. But in this case I don’t know if that makes this any easier.” You frown and grab his hands in yours. Almost absentmindedly he begins drawing circles on the back of your palms with this thumbs. While he won’t look at you you can see he’s trying to find the words.

“Should I be worried?” Many questions rush through your head. Was everything alright? Did something happen?

“No. No. No need to worry.” He musters a quick half smile before it disappears. You hated seeing him like this. So much conflict and inner turmoil. You give his hands a soft squeeze. Whatever this is it must bother him a lot if he’s so affected by it!

“It’s alright. Take however long you need. I’m here for you no matter what.” He takes a deep breath as you finish your sentence.

“I’ve had some revelations lately and I’ve tried so hard to push them away, deny them or hoping that maybe I was interpreting them wrong but I can no longer just brush them aside. I don’t think it’s fair…” Another deep breath.

“What’s not fair to who?”

“This. All of it. What I’m doing. It’s not fair to you.” He has trouble forming a sentence.

“Slowly. Just keep breathing.” You try to calm him down.

“It’s not fair that I freely take your comfort, affection, kindness and even companionship. I’m afraid my actions in return, they do not come from friendship but selfish motives instead. I don’t want this to end but I cannot treat my own actions as rooted from friendship when they are not.” He scrambles on stumbling every few words and you try to make sense of his words but you’ve known him longer than today so you get where he’s going.

“Caleb…” You begin but he cuts you off.

“No, no I need you to hear this before I cower back and lose the courage to do this. You are heaven sent. You are patient and kind and every time you smile at me I feel my heart skip a beat. Every hug, touch or kiss feels like the warmth of the sun after endless winter. I thought perhaps I felt this way because this is who you are and what you do; making the lives of those you care about brighter where you can. I know you care about me as you’ve reminded me many a time, and I care about you a lot, but I do not think it ends with just care. My realisation showed me that you’ve brought about a feeling I thought myself no longer capable off; love.” He pulls your hands close to his chest. You’re bewilder, confused at this open confession but above all surprised he so openly confides in you. You think hard taking in every word.

“So I think it’s unfair to you when for me this kindness and affection from my side will always be out of love and I cannot in good conscious give you my love when you do not want it. I cannot ask you to feel the same but I also don’t think me returning your kindness and affection can ever be anything other than love. So please, I don’t want what we have, our friendship to end but I don’t want to take what you don’t have to give me…”

“Caleb, I need you to listen to me very carefully.” You watch as his shoulders slump. So insecure when it comes to other’s feelings and opinions of him it hurts you every time he sells himself short. You look for the right words yourself. If he can muster up the courage then so can you!

“You can be so blinded by your own thoughts and insecurities you don’t even consider the fact that I feel the same.” He finally looks at you wide eyed freezing in place for a second.

“You underestimate your ability to be loved and if I can prove you different, if you will let me prove you different I will.” Caleb scans your face for any sense of insincerity, deceit or even jest but he finds none. He takes a minute but eventually pulls your hands to his lips pressing a long soft kiss to the backs.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this but you truly are a light in the darkness.” He kisses the backs of your hands again.

“You were you; all you ever need to be.” You shift leaning into his side, head against his shoulder and his arm wrapping around you. Intertwining your fingers with his at your waist you grasp his other hand and bring it to your lips. That small kiss right where his wrist meets his palm makes him melt. He leans back on the couch pulling you with in a slouched relaxed position. If only the rest of the Nein could see you now. They’d go crazy…

#critical role x reader #mighty nein x reader #caleb widogast x reader #caleb widogast

107 notes · View notes

btsficsforthehumble · 3 years

Text

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Seven

Warnings: sexual insinuations, slight sexual harassment (catcalling)

Word count: 2.7k

You hear Hoseok’s cheery voice call out your name almost immediately after you step into the quaint coffee shop. You send him a smile and a wave. Spotting Taehyung across Hoseok at the table, you send him a slightly more hesitant smile. The one he returns is one you have grown used to, now --- cheeky.

You order your coffee and walk over to the table after you get it from the barista. As you walk over, Taehyung sees you, and quickly clears away his stuff so you can take the seat next to him, and not Hoseok. At the sight, you hold back the urge to frown. It seemed like the pain in the ass Taehyung was back.

You sit, and Hoseok looks up from the textbook in front of him. “Hey y/n! How are you?” he says, his classic sunny smile on his face.

“I’m good! And you?”

“I’m great! I was just beginning to practice some problems for the first chapter, do you want to do them together?” he asks.

“Yeah! Let me just take out my book,” you answer, already reaching in your bag.

“Here, just use mine.” Taehyung slides his book across the tabletop, leaving it directly in front of you.

“Don’t you need yours?” You ask, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“Nah, I already did chapter one,” he explains with a shrug.

“Oh, okay, if you’re sure…”

“Yeah, go for it.”

At that, you and Hoseok begin to tear through the problem sets, moving rapidly as you had secretly studied prior to coming. As you finish the first chapter, he looks up at you and gives a noise of surprise. “You didn’t need any help at all! You weren’t giving yourself enough credit, y/n!” he teases.

You divert your eyes, feeling a blush climb to your cheeks from his praise. When you look back up, it’s Taehyung that catches your gaze. He was giving you a knowing smirk, seemingly having picked up on your little crush on Hoseok.

Your eyes dart back to Hoseok as you respond. “Let’s see how the next chapter goes, it might not be so easy…”

He makes a noise of agreement, flipping his textbook to the next chapter. “Yeah, it does get a bit harder. I’m sure you are already a pro though, based off of chapter one!” He gives you a toothy grin, causing your blush to return. “Taehyung, you didn’t do chapter two, right?”

----

An hour later, the three of you had managed to get through all of the practice problems together. All of you feeling tired, you were fast to slip into conversation about anything other than the math in front of you.

You learn that Hoseok is an environmental science major, and a third year. He also shares that he was in your school’s dance club, but shyly declines to bust a move at your and Taehyung’s insistence. His bubbly personality only grows when talking about his passions.

Having learnt Taehyung’s major earlier today, the only new information you got out of him was that he is a second year student, and is taking calculus as a general math requirement. He doesn’t care for it, personally, he says. Despite that, he also seemed to do just fine when the three of you trudged through the problems.

Before you depart for the night, Taehyung catches both of you, and invites you both to a party, hosted by his roommate on Saturday.

“I was told to invite everyone, so feel free to bring anyone you want. It’s supposed to be a back to school thing,” he explains.

Hoseok frowns. “I already was invited to something on Saturday, actually. Maybe next time!”

Their eyes both move to you, waiting for your response. “Uhm, yeah, I’ll come,” you answer. You didn’t have plans and honestly, you imagine you’ll want to relieve some stress after this week anyway.

Taehyung looks like a cat that got the canary after you speak, and Hoseok looks happy you were able to accept the offer, as he’s smiling at both of you.

“Yay! That’ll be fun, y/n! I’m sure Tae here will make sure you have a good time!” he beams, completely oblivious to the subtext of his own words.

Unfortunately, Taehyung wasn’t. He didn’t seem to care about the casual nickname Hoseok had used, but more so about the dirty interpretation of his words. “Of course, it’s always a good time with me,” he says with a grin.

You felt yourself grow slightly restless at the dual conversation being had. You wanted to tell Taehyung to stop being annoying but didn’t want to draw Hoseok’s attention to the dirtiness of what was being said. Taehyung must have noticed your shiftiness, because he places one of his large hands on your knee.

“I wish I could come! You two have fun without me,” Hoseok pouts.

“Oh, we will! Next time, sunbae,” Taehyung answers, giving your knee a light squeeze.

The thoughts that filter through your mind at Taehyung's words are far from innocent. It was one thing to insinuate that you and Taehyung would be having sex, but to suggest that the time after Hoseok would also be involved? Combined with the thoughts and Taehyung’s hand on your knee, you felt yourself get slightly turned on. Trying to calm down, you squirm a little in your chair, which tips Taehyung off to the fact that you were affected by the situation. His grin turns downright wolfish, at your chagrin.

Hoseok appears oblivious, as he begins packing up his stuff preparing to go home. After a second, you hurry to follow suit. Taehyung removes his hand as you do, allowing you to gather your things peacefully while he gathers his own.

You all stand, ready to depart for the night. Slightly uncomfortable with your partially aroused status, you clutch onto your bag and bounce lightly on your feet. Taehyung’s obnoxious smile fails to leave his face as he watches you.

Eager to escape, you bid them both goodbye, and tell them both you’ll see them in class tomorrow before you hightail it out of the cafe. Before you get more than two steps out of the door however, you hear a voice call after you. You stop in your tracks, and Hoseok speeds out of the cafe to catch up to you.

“Do you want one of us to walk you home? It’s dark out, and neither of us mind, right Tae?” He turns over his shoulder to confirm this with Taehyung who had emerged from the cafe right after Hoseok had.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t want anything to happen,” Taehyung replies, now leaning against the glass of the storefront.

You shift on your feet slightly, torn. They had a point, it would be safer to have one of them walk you, but you were already a little jittery from the suggestive conversation that was just had.

Seeing your indecisive state, Hoseok reasons, “I live over by Munsu Street, if you live over there it wouldn’t even be out of my way.”

You couldn’t figure out if you were disappointed or not that he lived in the complete opposite direction. “Actually, I’m on Bongdeog… don’t worry about it, I’m pretty far from you.”

Taehyung raises his eyebrows once he hears your street. “I’m only a street over from you. I’ll walk you home, it’s no problem,” he says while pushing off of the building.

You glance at Hoseok, who was smiling at Taehyung. “Great! All right guys, have a good night!” he says, already backing up to go the opposite direction of the one in which you and Taehyung were about to go.

“You too!” you call out to him as you start walking away, back facing his receding form.

Now you and Taehyung were alone. You feel safe, but are on edge --- but only because of how he riled you up only a number of minutes before. Taehyung, on the hand, seemed perfectly at ease. Hands in his pockets, he started walking --- no, more like strolling --- towards your street. You both fell into a silence. Tense on your part, but easy on his, it seems.

After a few minutes, you felt the tension in your shoulders start to fade. Taehyung probably didn’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable while you were alone, you thought. Which, honestly, was really thoughtful and sweet… it wouldn’t even occur to most guys to do that.

After another minute of walking, you see him tense up slightly and glance over to an alley that you were approaching. You look up at his face, with his heavy brows furrowed in concentration. He looks down at you, widens his eyes, seeming to ask for consent for something.

Confused, you nod. He quickly wraps his arm around your side to pull you into him, leaving you hip to hip, his hand still resting in the dip of your waist. You look up, startled at the action, but are interrupted before you can ask him what the hell he thought he was doing.

“Is that your girl? She’s mighty pretty.” A man's voice called, seeming to come from the alley that Taehyung had looked at with concern moments before.

You see a man step out, wearing what looked like baggy clothes with some mysterious stains on them. His hair looked unkempt and greasy all the way from where you were standing.

Now you understand why Taehyung had pulled you in. He must have known that alley held some shady figures.

“Just keep walking and ignore him. He won’t do anything with me here,” Taehyung leaned down to whisper in your ear. You nod in response, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself from the man, who now was only several meters away.

“Hey, I’m talking to you pretty boy. You want me to take her off your hands?” In response to the man's provocation, you felt Taehyung’s fingers tighten slightly on your waist. You could tell now that the man was visibly drunk, barely able to stand on his own, and seemed to be a poor soul that was down on his luck. You felt a pang of sympathy for the man.

You look again up to examine Taehyung’s face. He had his lips pressed into a flat line, and still had his eyebrows furrowed. The contortion of his normally open and playful features only emphasized his beauty. He looked so handsome, you think to yourself.

The thought passes quickly as you are brought back to reality. You were both now getting closer to the stranger, trying to pass by. You become more stiff with nerves, and Taehyung gives you a light squeeze of reassurance in response.

To your surprise, Taehyung reaches into his back pocket and produces a few bills from his wallet as you get closer to standing in front of the man. As you pass, he hands his money to the drunkard.

“Stay safe,” he tells the man, who was now looking at him with the same wide eyes you were giving him.

Taehyung ignores your wide stares, and continues walking as if nothing had occurred, completely unbothered. His hand still rested around your waist, however.

Realizing his luck, the man quickly scurries back down the alley from which he emerged, probably in fear that Taehyung would demand his money back.

Still surprised at what had happened, you were processing quietly to yourself for a minute. Once you both were out range of the man, Taehyung respectfully dropped his arm and gave you space.

You weren’t sure you were as relieved about it as you should be at his release. Your mind returns to the act he had done a moment ago, and couldn’t resist asking him about it now that you felt safe with the man gone.

“What was that about?” you ask bluntly, looking up at him to read his expression.

He just shrugged. After a second, he says, “That man is there all the time. Pretty sure he’s homeless. Drinks to cope, I think.”

Your eyes soften at his words. You had seen a serious side to him this morning; and now you were seeing him show his thoughtfulness and kindness, even for a stranger. Taehyung was proving to be a deeper person than what you had originally pegged him to be.

“You really didn’t have to do that, you know,” you say, wanting to get more out of him.

“I know.” He maintains his nonchalance. Seems like you wouldn’t be digging any deeper.

You both keep walking, again in silence. This time though, it is a completely comfortable one. The boy next to seemed like a different person than the one who touched your leg in secret and made innuendos about threesomes earlier. He seemed more mature, mellow even.

Before you even noticed, you and Taehyung had walked all the way to your street, both lost in your own thoughts. Moments later, you arrive at the front of your apartment building.

You stop at the entrance, and look up at Taehyung to say goodbye.

“This is me,” you offer.

He leans against the building, hands in his pockets. “Do you want me to join you up there?” He gives you one of his cheeky smirks.

“I think I can handle it.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “You sure?”

You sigh, and roll your eyes. “Try again next time, buddy.”

“You’ll want me soon? Wow, and here I was thinking you were a woman of virtue,” he grins.

“It doesn’t take virtue to turn you down, I’m afraid.”

He fakes a gasp, and covers his heart with his hand. “You wound me, y/n. And here I was thinking we were friends.”

“Ah, yes, because good friends keep trying to get in the pants of the other, I forgot.” You stretch your arms above your head, the textbook in your backpack beginning to weigh on your shoulders. You watched his eyes travel down your body and back up, becoming slightly hooded. You’ll admit stretching may have also been a way to tease Taehyung.

“You can’t blame me too much… you’re quite captivating, sweetheart,” he admits, but holds his teasing tone.

“Sure, if you find all random college girls captivating. Which, I guess if you’re a fuckboy, you might,” you say with a shrug.

He raises his eyebrows, and pulls his head back slightly at your accusation. “Don’t write yourself off so easily, y/n.” He tilts his head to the side. “Have you seen me pursue any other girls? Flirt with anyone else at all?”

You look down at your feet at his questioning. The truth was, you really hadn’t. He only ever seemed to focus on you, which you had previously found annoying, but were coming to enjoy secretly.

“I suppose not, but I’ve only known you for a few days. Who’s to say the list of girls you have isn't long?”

“Who’s to say that it is?”

You narrow your eyes and regard him carefully. You wanted to determine if he was just bullshitting you or was being genuine; his eyes were open and honest, and nothing about his body language told you he was lying.

“You’re a strange one, Kim Taehyung. Goodnight,” you say with finality while you turn around to head inside your building. You don’t know if you can deal with any more of him tonight. It feels like he turns your head upside down. You can never seem to get an accurate read on the guy.

“Sleep well, y/n.” You hear his deep voice call out as the door shuts behind you, and it sends shivers up your spine. You hated the fact that he had that power over you, but he was undeniably attractive. And the more you uncover about him, the more you feel his pull.

Just thinking about it made you realize how exhausted you were from today. Today felt insanely long, so much so that the Jimin/Yoongi fiasco felt like it happened ages ago. You could practically hear your bed calling your name, so with sleep in mind you rush to get some rest. Tomorrow, you’d deal with Taehyung in Calculus --- tomorrow.

#btsgoldnet #bangtanarmynet #houseofddaeng #ficscafe #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic

31 notes · View notes

mxndoscyarika · 4 years

Text

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 3

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink, death mention, mention of politics

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Happy New Year, everyone! We made it! To celebrate, here’s the next chapter of Honeydew. I’d like to mention that this story takes place a few years BEFORE the events of We Can Be Heroes, so that’s why some things are a bit different from canon. If we make it far enough, there might be some allusions to the movie, but for now you can think of this as being set 3-5 years before the movie. Wishing you all a safe and healthy new year!

Erin locked her car and walked down the sidewalk to the entrance of the restaurant. She felt just a little bit overdressed with her pencil skirt and ruffled blouse, but it was a day full of meetings and she didn’t have extra time to change. Hopefully she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

When she walked in, she spotted Marcus sitting by a window, gazing out into the street. The daylight highlighted the curve of his nose beautifully, almost like a painting. His glasses framed his eyes perfectly, drawing attention to the warm brown of his irises and accentuating his strong jawline. The short beard on his cheek looked soft and kissable, though shorter than her Marcus kept his.

Her heart fluttered as she stepped into the dining area. Each step towards Marcus Moreno felt like one step further away from the past, from her Marcus.

But wouldn't her Marcus want her to be happy?

Stop getting your hopes up, she scolded herself. This isn’t a date.

Part of her wished it was. It was the same part of her that gravitated towards him after they met at Sachi’s party and filled her with warmth when he texted her for the first time.

She knew it was silly to develop feelings for him; he was probably too busy for relationships. After all, he had to take care of his daughter, Missy.

What if he already had a wife, too?

Her heart sank as she glanced down at his hands, which were clasped together on the table. Shining on his left hand was a ring.

Definitely not a date, then.

“Hi,” he greeted, his face lighting up when she approached. He rose to his feet to give her a hug. When they pulled apart, he took in her outfit. “Wow, you look...great.”

She blushed, hands still resting on his arms. “Thanks, you too. I must say, a suit looks good on you.”

“Oh this? It’s nothing,” he said, beaming. Before she could stop him, he pulled out her chair so she could sit. “I, uh, ordered you a coffee; you sounded tired on the phone when you called, so I figured you would want a little pick-me-up.”

In front of her was a mug filled with steaming coffee. It was a cappuccino–one of her go-to orders. When she wasn’t surviving off of plain coffee, she loved the warmth and luxury of the more elaborate form of caffeine. Sitting down, she asked, “Thank you. How do you know my coffee order?”

Marcus laughed softly, his cheeks flushed. “Lucky guess?”

“Very lucky, indeed,” she hummed, taking a sip. As she did, memories of a certain agent and cup of coffee raced back to her. It was such a lovely coincidence that both Marcuses managed to give her coffee in the sweetest way possible. Admiring his dress shirt and tie, she asked, “Are you coming from work, or do you always dress like this for lunch dates?”

She let out a breath of relief when he explained it was for work. The man sitting across from her was already beautiful–she wasn’t sure how she’d cope if he also wore suits every day.

Marcus explained that he worked for a group called the Heroics, which was the organization responsible for coordinating superpowered individuals to protect the world. There was a dress code for those working in the offices, though sometimes the heroes staying behind could be ready in their super attire.

The Heroics were a fairly new group, one that the government had seemed interested in working with. However, most of the information was classified and only relayed to those working at the Pentagon. With the rising concerns of police brutality and the acceleration of technology, the world was searching for a newer, better, way to keep civilians safe.

When she asked him what position he had, he groaned playfully. Even after all this time, his honeydew never rested. He tried to ignore what that meant for her during the past few years. “Isn’t this supposed to be our break from work, honey?”

“What, can’t a girl be curious?” she teased, tilting her head.

Marcus chuckled, heat rushing up to his face when he realized his eyes had fallen to her red lips. Without thinking, he reached across the table to take her hand into his. “How about this: I’ll tell you later if you can make it through lunch without talking about work.”

She huffed playfully. “Alright, you win.” Rubbing her thumb along his fingers, she asked, “What do you want to talk about, Mr. Moreno?”

Everything. He wanted to talk about everything. Yet at the same time, he wanted to talk about nothing; he just wanted to spend time with his best friend.

But he was Marcus Moreno, not Marcus Pike. Even if she was his best friend, he wasn’t hers.

“I guess I just want to get to know you better,” he said, shrugging. The corners of his mouth curved up in a soft smile. “What does Erin He, the FBI’s Operational Technologies Supervisor, do in her free time?”

“Not that I have much free time these days,” she began, “but, I like making things. Food and art, mostly. There’s a new art gallery opening nearby. I’ve been meaning to go but work has taken up a lot of time. That, and most of my friends aren’t really into that kind of stuff.”

Back in Texas, Marcus had introduced her to the prospect of viewing and enjoying art, not just creating it. At first she’d been hesitant–she never really enjoyed walking through museums or galleries–but listening to Marcus’s interpretations of the artwork, and then offering her own, made her reconsider it. Maybe it was the art; maybe it was the company and quality time that used to come with it. It became a part of her life, a treat to herself amidst the bright screens and headaches. It was her escape from the world, even if it was short-lived.

She just wished Marcus could’ve been there in her years after moving to DC.

Marcus smiled. “Well, I’d love to go with you someday. Maybe not during the week, but one day when Missy’s over at a friend’s house.”

At the mention of his daughter, Erin remembered his wedding ring. Her stomach churned at the thought of keeping him away from his family. Retracting her hand, she said, “Oh, right. Of course…. But wouldn’t you want to spend time with your wife?”

His brows furrowed with confusion, then he followed her eyes to his ring. He smiled sadly. “Oh, right. I forgot to tell you…my wife passed away a few years ago.” He tapped on the metal band. “I used to see this as a symbol of my marriage, but now I like to consider it a reminder of my daughter. A reminder that I have someone waiting for me to come home and provide for.”

There were days when he missed his wife more than others, like whenever Missy would come home from school with an art project made for Mother’s Day. Or when she’d want to try new hairstyles or try on clothes at the mall. It had been years, but there were just some things he couldn’t be no matter how much he tried.

“I’m sorry,” Erin said. Offering him a small smile, she added, “For what it’s worth, I’m sure you’re a great dad.”

She always knew what to say, always a step ahead. He’d missed that about her. “I don’t have the best track record with relationships,” he replied, letting out a huff of laughter. “Let’s just say that.”

“You’re not alone in that camp,” Erin replied. She played with the corner of her napkin. “Though I must say I’ve never made it far enough to have a kid of my own, so you’ve got that going for you.”

“Why not?” He knew dating while working for the FBI was always a tricky situation, but he never thought that she, of all people, would have trouble finding someone. She was sweet, hardworking, and smarter than everyone he knew. She was....everything he ever looked for in a partner. Having lunch with her, getting to relearn what it felt like to be her friend, was everything.

But he also knew her. He understood her dedication to her work, and why she worked long hours at the office. He did the same, too. Well, until he met his wife and had Missy.

Did Erin ever get to experience that feeling? The feeling of being home and content and loved? Did he take that feeling with him when he erased his identity from the world?

She was about to answer when a waitress came up to the table to take their orders. Once the waitress left, she turned back to Marcus. “Let’s just say there was an old friend, one that I can’t ever replace.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, so quiet that she almost missed it.

Why did it sound like an apology?

Taking a deep breath, she changed the subject. “Well, it was a long time ago, anyways. I’m just happy that I met you. Tell me, Marcus: what do you like to do in your free time?”

They talked about everything they could think of, basking in comfortable silences once the food arrived. It was all easy; almost too easy. But Erin couldn’t help but let it wash over her. It had been a long, long time since she felt at peace with everything. There was just something about the way Marcus smiled that was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. His humble–almost shy–demeanor only served to draw her in. She quickly realized that, at the end of the day, he was just a man trying to do right by his daughter.

When the bill arrived, he didn’t hesitate to slip in his card and give it back to the waitress. “Don’t worry about it, honey. It’s my treat.” Winking at Erin, he said, “Maybe next time.”

---

After lunch with Marcus, the day passed in a blur. The meetings were long, but not as unbearable as she expected. Even the piles of feedback on her desk didn’t feel as daunting as they usually did. When she left the office, the weight of the folders in her arms weren’t as heavy.

Erin had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when her phone rang, buzzing against the counter. She didn’t even need to glance at the screen to know it was him; she had a special ringtone set up.

Putting the call on speaker, she answered, “Hi Marcus!”

“Hey Erin!”

Warmth filled her chest as he thanked her for having lunch with him. His voice was as soothing as ever, even through the phone. She could have listened to him talk all night.

“I had a great time, too,” she replied, beaming. Sitting on her kitchen counter, she must’ve looked ridiculous with her hair in damp tendrils. Thankfully, Marcus hadn’t decided to do a video call. “I mean it. I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in a while.”

A soft chuckle. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t bore you too much.”

She scoffed. “You could never.” Maybe to some he would be boring, but to her? He was everything. His late wife was a lucky woman, and Missy was a lucky girl. Marcus was everything she ever wanted; he was kind, thoughtful, secure. And although they’d parted ways with nothing more than a promised call, she never felt so happy.

“Actually, I was wondering–”

He stopped as a little voice piped up near him. It must’ve been Missy, his little girl. Erin could just barely hear her ask, “Who is that?”

Biting her lip, she listened on as Marcus chuckled softly and bashfully answered, “She’s, uh, a friend of mine.”

“Is she a girlfriend?”

“N-no,” he stammered, laughing nervously. “She’s just a friend.”

“Is she pretty?”

His answer made her cover her face and fight to contain a squeal. “Yes, she’s very pretty.” A pause. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, sweetie? Why don’t you get in first, I’ll be right there.”

Erin waited patiently as silence settled in the kitchen once again. Her cheeks were hurting from smiling, and she was sure she’d feel it the next morning. He thought she was pretty!

Marcus returned with a sigh. “Sorry about that, Missy can get a little curious sometimes.”

“It’s alright,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound too giddy. “She’s cute. What were you going to ask me?”

Silence. Then, he said, “Oh, right. I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to get dinner sometime later this week?”

Her heart raced as she realized what he wanted. It had been so long; what would she wear? Did he already have a restaurant in mind? Did he really want to take her out to dinner?

Was it a date?

Already deep into the whirlwind of questions, she realized she hadn’t responded yet. Without thinking, she said, “Yes. It’s a date!”

You couldn’t have been more subtle?

She braced herself for the rejection, but it never came.

“It’s a date,” Marcus repeated softly, almost as if he were saying it to himself. A soft laugh. “I should probably, uh, go check on Missy. We can figure out the details of our date later, alright?” His voice somehow turned even softer, like velvet. “Goodnight, honeydew.”

Erin yawned, the day’s exhaustion finally setting in. Maybe those files could wait until the morning.

“Goodnight, Marcus.”

< previous chapter | next chapter >

TAGLISTS: (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!)

PERMANENT:

@cinewhore @randomness501 @theghostwiththemost-babe @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @catfishingmorales @halfwaythereroyal @fioccodineveautunnale @talesfromtheguild @tortles @ladamari68 @theokatcov @snivellusim @starryluce @inked-poet @browneyes-djarin @shedobewritingalittle @chews-erotically @thefandomimagines @emesispo @bitchin-beskar @phoenixhalliwell @nerdypinupcrystal @dishonouringmycow

HONEYDEW:

@leemorrigan @houseofthirst @meshlamando @engineeredfiction @inkyzinky @thedazeinmylife @theoutsidelandhere

#Marcus moreno #Marcus Moreno x OC #marcus moreno x reader #sorta lol if you're an asian girl in stem then it's totally a reader fic LOL #marcus pike #we can be heroes #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal characters #my writing #honeydew

58 notes · View notes

bnhavibes · 4 years

Note

Yay requests! I was wondering if you could do something like y/n giving Bakugou a back massage after a long day of training? ^^

Yo this turned out soooo much thirstier than I meant! It was supposed to be a cute fluffy thing, but nah. Part 2 is nsfw, link at the bottom. Enjoy!!

-Brit, @slut-zawa

Ao3

Rating: mature, heavy petting? Just a bit hornee ~3.7k words

Want to go to my room? || Katsuki Bakugou PART 1

Ding!

The smooth metallic sliding of the elevator doors opening rings out in the vast common room of the third floor of the U.A. dorms. The new architecture has surprisingly high-quality acoustics; any sounds echoing slightly against the plain walls and ceiling.

“Out of my way. Damn nerd.” The signature insult and strained voice of Bakugou makes you look up from your place on the couch. He stares down your freckled classmate, waiting for the smaller man to move aside. It’s definitely Bakugou’s voice, but something is...missing. Horrifying aggression (that was very unbecoming of a hero-in-training)? Murderous intent? Explosive competitiveness? It lacked its usual venomous bite. In fact, it was nearly devoid of all emotion.

Still, it prompts your poor, unfortunate green-haired classmate to stutter out an apology as he stumbles aside and makes his way past the blonde into the elevator. You can see Izuku’s ashamed blush all the way from where you’re sitting across the room. However, instead of the usual victimized expression in his eyes, he narrows them, worriedly looking Bakugou over. It’s a relief to know Izuku isn’t actually taking it personally. People always do that and it annoys you.

He’s noticed the same thing you have, and he’s assessing what could have happened, looking concerned. But he certainly can’t do anything about it. Not like you can.

You and Kirishima are the closest Bakugou has to actual friends. Having become significantly closer in recent weeks, you could actually say you were the blonde’s best friend. It was strange at first, seeing a more—dare you say it—vulnerable side to the blonde. You weren’t sure what that meant, and others would poke fun at him, jokingly calling you his “girlfriend.” That thought had certainly crossed your mind. It’s unlike Bakugou to be soft or even slightly friendly to anyone, and he did occasionally let his apathetic facade crumble just a trace around you.

It pissed you off that people would make fun of their own classmate for being human. Everyone needs a best friend, or someone they can be completely themselves with. It thrills you that you can be that person for Bakugou. That he trusts you more than he has ever trusted anyone. Maybe even his own family. Before all the students were made to live in the dorms, you had been his next door neighbor.

There was no way to ignore the incessant rageful scream-arguments coming from that house. You had met his mother a number of times. It broke your heart that she was always aggressive with him, never really acknowledging his emotions. No wonder he turned out so angry. No wonder he’s so afraid to show vulnerability to anyone. But, as much as Bakugou likes to pretend he doesn’t need people, you can see it in the way he has been seeking you out the past few weeks.

It started off as him asking small favors, as he would call it, never admitting to asking for help.

“Show me how you got that damn answer!” You had been sitting peacefully at your desk in math class when you saw a shadow come over your notebook where you were hastily scribbling down the next problem. Incredibly startled, you looked up to see a stern Bakugou pointing at his own math problem that was crossed out with a plethora of large ‘x’s. The other students shook their heads as they interpreted his question as accusing you of doing the problem incorrectly. At this point, you felt like you could speak his language, and saw that demand for what it was. He needed your help with that problem.

Of course, you never called him out on it, lest he yell some unsavory things. You wondered if it was some strange compulsion for Bakugou to call everyone in the class derogatory nicknames. As time went on and you two interacted more, he eventually broke and called you by your given name. You would even go as far to say that he enjoyed your presence, as much as he may have tried to hide it.

The two of you didn’t necessarily do anything together, the man would just seek out the quiet companionship you offered him. A number of times, he had knocked on your dorm room with a gentle “hey. Open up.” When he stepped in, he would silently hold up his textbooks, plop down on your bed next to you and just study. Only a few words would be exchanged here or there, and you supposed it was a somewhat strange friendship, but you couldn’t ask for anything better.

Well, you certainly could, but you can’t let your feelings get in the way of the only safe friendship Bakugou has. It seems so obvious that you make him soft, but the man is so cut off from anything romantic, you always end up doubting his feelings for you. He would probably say he has to make it to the top first. Can’t bother with such trivial things before he is the number one hero.

You minutely shake your head to clear it, to focus on the matter at hand, as Bakugou practically trips over his own feet on his way towards the couch. It’s a far cry from his usual swagger, each step carefully planned, confident, without a trace of doubt.

He looks positively beat, and as he approaches you see the red scratches, sanguine beaded up and coagulated in approximated lines all over his exposed forearms. The soot layering his hands and face from being within the explosion radius of his own quirk. You watch as a drop of sweat rolls down his forehead, nose, down to his mouth, causing him to spit and make some sort of enraged noise. He’s back!

To your disappointment (that you would never admit to anyone), the anger ebbs away from his face, taking the crease out of his brow as he flops down next to you on the couch. Seeing your friend’s rapid chestrises, you gather that he is still catching his breath. Must have been one hell of a training session.

You regard him curiously for a moment, but don’t dare ask a question about what happened. You know him better than that. His stark change in demeanor tells you all you need to know.

He doesn’t even have the energy to make some sardonic remark about you staring at him. His head lolls back against the couch to gaze blankly at the ceiling. Trailing your gaze down the long line of his neck, you wrench your eyes away from the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, gulping. Focus.

“Need anything in particular?” You try your luck at asking a question. The moment of vulnerability feels so fragile, you’re sure that a single word will shatter it, rain down like shards of glass. But it doesn’t.

Bakugou just makes a low noncommittal noise in the back of his throat and stays put. Suddenly, you feel so lucky that you are his safe place. You never have to say anything to each other, one look and there’s a tacit understanding of everything going on with the other. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk; he just needs your silent support and gentle presence.

Bakugou looks so tense, and you find your hands on his shoulders before you can stop yourself. Before even he can stop you. Your fingers gently dig circles into his taut muscle through his jumper. If you weren’t staring at him like you are, you may have missed the way he turns his torso slowly away from you with each knead of your hands until you can reach both shoulders comfortably. Luckily, he still leans into your touch. You could have—and probably would have—taken it as a rejection if he wasn’t still so relaxed against you. He even heaves a deep sigh of what must be relief.

However, it’s still difficult to access his skin or see where you’re touching with the cursed turtleneck portion of the blue gym uniform. The normally explosive man has been receiving everything well so far, and you can tell he needs this, so you feel safe to continue. Your quaking hands cautiously, so slowly, reach around front to unzip the jumpsuit. You’ve never been undressed around each other before, and you’re afraid how he will interpret you doing this to him. Is this what friends do?

You kind of expect him to stop you when you roll the material mostly off his shoulders. Anyone can walk in and get the wrong idea. It wouldn’t be the wrong idea as far as you’re concerned. You understand your feelings are a little complicated but it can be easily boiled down to this: you like him. A lot. How can you not? He’s just so complex and beautiful.

A surge of affection washes over you and spurs your hands to run gently over the hard muscle of his shoulders. He’s so warm. He’s so warm it gives you pleasant chills that race across your arms, cascade down your spine, raising your goosebumps. You knew Bakugou had a lot of muscle mass,—you’ve been fortunate enough to see him train in that blessed black tank top—but seeing it up close is….entirely different. All you can think is wow.

Watching his large pectorals peek out the top of the zipper, you notice the rolling beads of sweat across his chest. Focus.

He actually closes his vermillion eyes, brow melting into a relaxed position, tension falling away from his jaw as your hands draw invisible swirling patterns over his skin. Noticing how the pads of your fingers drag uncomfortably over his shoulders, you are thankful you have lotion in your purse that is lying slightly smashed between you two on the couch.

One hand continues warming up his shoulders, while grabbing the lotion with the other. You smile as you read the label: “Sunflower Cherry body butter.” Whatever the hell that means, it’s girly and surely he doesn’t want it. But his eyes don’t open back up, and he is clearly far too exhausted at this point to care. He couldn’t even muster up the energy to yell at Izuku. That says a lot. Sunflower cherry it is.

The other hand reluctantly pulls off the tired man for a moment to warm up the lotion, lathering it over your palms. The floral scent wafts to your nose, and you sigh contentedly. Your hands spread the pastel pink lotion over his shoulders and neck, using more pressure now that your hands glide smoothly over his skin.

Your eyebrows knit in worry at the knots of muscle he has all over. Bakugou does have a habit of pushing himself too far, but you had never thought of the physical repercussions of that. Certainly he hadn’t either before that training session.

Letting your thumbs do the work at first, you cup his shoulder with your fingers, running deep circles into the hardest areas of muscle. Starting out gentle and gradually increasing the pressure, he... groans? when you move your thumb over to a sensitive spot on his shoulder.

Bakugou. Made a noise. Acknowledging that he feels good from your massage. Oh my god, is this really happening? You try to keep it together.

You giggle gently in acknowledgment, hoping your voice doesn’t break or betray your pleasurable giddiness when you ask, “there?” The blonde nods once and you continue to rub at the tense spot, motivated by his soft sighs. Sighs. You might be hyperventilating by now, unbelieving that he is reacting to you this way.

He isn’t usually this vulnerable around you and it gives you such deep satisfaction that he trusts you enough for this. There’s a low heat churning in your abdomen, deriving a possessive delectation from the fact that you’re the only one who gets to see him this way.

Minutes pass by as you slowly rub the tension from the blonde’s shoulders, muscle knots melting away. Red splotches bloom up on his skin from the repetitive friction of your fingers. You move your thumbs to either side of his spine at his shoulder blades and, using deep pressure, run all the way up to his neck.

The movement is infinitesimal, but you are certain he shivers at that. So you repeat the motion, rewarded with a hitch of breath. You smile gingerly as your thumbs ease circles into the muscles on either side of his cervical spine. With light pressure, you drag your other fingers comfortingly over his neck.

You pull the lump of muscle away from his spine as you have seen in swedish massage videos. You have genuinely no idea what it’s supposed to do, but you assume it feels nice. After working on his neck for a few minutes, reveling in the gentle groans he gives, your hands travel up to rub circles into the blonde’s scalp. You spread your fingers, covering most of the sides of his head, relishing the feel of the chaotic spikes of his hair being surprisingly soft at the roots. He lets out a shaky sigh as you scrape your nails lightly along sensitive flesh, drawing circular, yet angular patterns. Like a kaleidoscope.

It’s rewarding to give Bakugou such relaxation, but he keeps letting his head fall back, becoming a part of the couch behind him in a way that makes it nearly impossible to reach anything. Also, in this position you have to constantly tear your wandering eyes from the absolutely sinful way he subtly arches his back. He’s definitely trying to suppress it, but you’re stripping away at his layers so that he can’t anymore. You want to run your tongue along the column of his spine.

Throwing your purse on the floor, you turn the blonde and bring him back so his head is resting in your lap. To your surprise, he is compliant. He’s more than compliant; he’s absolute putty in your hands. Here you can access every part of his scalp.

Your fingers ghost over the spot behind his ear, running back up to scratch lines into his scalp, earning another small moan from the male. You try desperately to ignore how Bakugou’s new position sends the vibrations all throughout your lap. It’s just enough to make your eyes flutter shut. Biting your lip, you try to keep your breaths even, lest he hear and judge you for getting turned on at something like this. What if he doesn’t return your feelings?

Another soft noise from the man in your lap brings you out of your mind, and back to the room. Glancing down at his now-slack features, you admire the harsh curve of his striking jawline, how the tip of his nose curls up at the end. He looks so peaceful and even a bit younger without anger and frustration wrinkling his face. It’s not often that you get the chance to just look at Bakugou, so you are sure to take your time to memorize every little detail.

Peering down at the male, you begin to notice his little tells when you do something particularly nice. His eyebrows twitch and raise, and his head tips up slightly into your touch. His lips dip open, jaw dropping minutely. It’s cute. And really hot. At the same time. It’s desperately arousing watching him lose his composure, and your mind can’t help but wonder how his face will contort during other activities. Eyes widening as your heart begins to pound, you’re certain Bakugou can probably feel it.

Your fingers curl along his hairline to distract yourself, gingerly raking your nails in and pulling the hair back up as if he was wearing a headband. You giggle when his hair flops back down. He lets out a relaxed, yet shaky exhale. At this point it’s safe to assume he has never had a massage before. He’s never been taken care of.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper jokingly, a lopsided smile adorning your face. Bakugou’s eyebrows twitch, pulling together, and he just grunts.

Another several minutes are spent with your fingers idly carding through his hair, when you notice the blonde’s breathing coming slowly and evenly. The poor guy fell asleep. At least that gives you a chance to ease some of the tension that had been building up in your abdomen. Your fingers continue mussing up his hair, and you feel safe to openly stare at him again. You hope that isn’t creepy, but who can resist drinking in the appearance of Bakugou when he is calm? It’s so rare that you feel obligated to take full advantage of this moment.

Other people may see Bakugou as a hot head and though you can’t deny that, what you see is so much more. An incredibly driven, dedicated man who knows what he wants and stops at nothing to get there. Every wrinkle on his brow maps out a victory or a time when he overcame great adversity. He doesn’t care how other people perceive his personality, he just wants to make sure they know he is unequivocally the best. You admire him greatly for that, where other people criticize him.

Unsure what compels you to do it, you find your head dipping down to plant a chaste kiss on his temple. When you pull back and open your eyes, you’re met with wide crimson orbs. Oh shit.

“Why did you do that?” He sits up as he asks the question, chest hovering close to yours, hot breath puffing down onto your face. Oh god. You brace yourself for the rejection of a lifetime. You can’t help but feel guilty that the only best friend Bakugou has is about to ruin a precious friendship that he probably needs. Your breathing coming quick, you stare back at him, analyzing his expression.

To your utter relief, there is no overt disgust written on his face, but the blonde is staring at you intently, awaiting your answer. His eyebrows are knitted together in bewildered confusion. He must see your nervousness, because he tries to reassure you. He never reassures anyone.

“I’m not mad. Jus’ wanna know.” Even now the man isn’t fully awake enough to not slur his words. Unfortunately that does nothing to ease your nerves as he continues to stare you down. You exhale deeply, mouth forming an “O” as you steel yourself and try to keep your shaky breaths under control. Though gazing into the deep burgundy of his eyes terrifies you to no end, you can’t look away.

“I.” You gulp, mouth dry. “I have-....I think I like you.” Now you can’t meet his gaze. You only hear a hitch of breath before a rough hand is on your chin, turning it gently to face him. Bakugou wears an unreadable expression before he pushes his forehead against yours, and you close your eyes, enjoying the closeness. You both are just panting into each other's slightly ajar mouths. Breathing the same hot, charged air. You can hear the soft smile in his voice when he asks,

“Can I?” In lieu of an answer, you surge forward to seal your plush lips over his. He sighs into the kiss, deepening it immediately. Tilting his head, he brings another large hand to the back of your neck to pull you into him. His tongue darts out to run along your bottom lip and you open up for him. You moan as his tongue slips into your mouth, licking along every surface he can. It’s like he’s been waiting forever to do this, and he lays his desperation out in the open for you to see.

The heat in your core is back in full force, sending scorching waves through your body as the hand on your neck comes to the small of your back. His hands are scouring over every bit of you, greedily squeezing and kneading and stroking. You arch your body into him, frustrated that you can’t get the friction you need, but breath hitching at how you can feel his ab muscles contracting against you. Your hands are stroking down his arms and chest, appreciating the way his muscles pull taut under your touch.

He breaks away first, trying to catch his breath, but wastes no time in trailing sloppy kisses down your jawline and neck. He sucks on a spot at the base as one calloused hand comes to stroke up your thigh. Widening your legs, you gasp and whine as your hands dig into the roots of his spiky locks and pull. You delight at the full-bodied groan that earns you, and he pulls away from your neck with a searing gaze.

“Want to go to my room?” His deep voice rasps. You do. You very much do.

Part 2

#bnha #my fic #my writing #brit #brit writes #YO #part two coming soon lmao #I made this too thirsty not to continue #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha reader insert #katsuki bakugou headcanon #bnha fanfiction

360 notes · View notes

morepeachyogurt · 4 years

Text

a sky full of stars (and she was looking at her)

Word Count- 2.8k

Pairing- Penemily

Summary- Penemily highschool au where they are paired up on a English assignment! Based on this post.

Part 1 of my, maybe we’re from the same star, series

Read it here on ao3

Tw’s- very small mentions of substances, minor swearing

A/N- this is the first installment of a series based on my yearning posts, and my first time writing romance/3rd pov, I’d love some feedback!

It’s hard to miss Penelope Garcia. With her bright clothes and brighter personally it seems like the sun shines a spotlight on her. Her golden hair is like a halo around her, she looks like an angel, and perhaps one of these days Emily will get the courage to talk to her beyond small talk and group presentations. She’s pulled out of her thoughts when the shrill bell rings, too loudly for her tastes but this whole building seems to scream at her, so perhaps it’s fitting.

Ms. Blake starts to talk about ancient poetry. The greats from the time periods before everything got so complicated. English is not Emily’s favorite class but somehow Blake’s class is more or less interesting, is it because she’s a milf? Maybe, who’s to say. As the class nears its end, she announces, “Alright, as we close out our poetry unit, we have one last assignment that hopefully at least one of you will enjoy, it’s a group project where-” immediately two hands go up ready to ask the question that always gets asked when a group project is announced. “Before you ask, no, you aren’t picking your partners, I am,” a collective groan comes out of about half the class. Emily isn’t too mad about it though, she doesn’t have many friends, especially in honors English. JJ barely passes English as it is. She’s all alone here, so she’s glad she doesn’t have to suffer through the awkwardness of trying to find a partner before everyone else does and ending up with the one kid who she’s pretty sure has been high the entire year and likes to leer at her in the hallway. “For this assignment, you’ll have to analyze one famous poem, from whatever time period you’d like, and write an essay about the poet’s intentions. If you’d like extra credit, which I know for a fact some of you need, you can do a reading of the poem in front of the class or do a drawing that represents it. Any questions?”

The classroom fills with questions of ‘when is this due?’ And ‘this sucks do we have to do this’. Emily however, is distracted by one very colorful girl in the upper left corner of the room, her spot in the back lets her admire the view without being caught, which tends to make it difficult to pay attention, but well, some things are just more fun than others. Her attention is drawn back to Blake when she hears her name followed by Penelope Garcia.

Oh shit.

On the one hand, this is exactly the opportunity she’d been looking for to ‘make her move’ so to speak, on the other, she’s terrified of making a fool of herself. Emily realizes that she’s been sitting for a bit too long when Blake stops talking and the rest of the class has already paired off. She catches Penelope’s eyes and tries to fight the blush of her cheeks. The sound of her docs hitting the linoleum is a bit too intense for this setting, she prefers their ‘clunk’ when it’s a crowded room, and she can walk like she owns the place. Emily sits down at the desk adjacent to Penelope and gets ready to ruin her chances with her.

“Okay! Hi! I’m Penelope! Which you already knew because Ms. Blake announced it, but it’s polite to introduce yourself to people so I thought I would do that now which I’ve done so I’ll stop talking now!”

Emily can’t help but giggle a little at her rambling, she doesn’t want her to stop talking quite yet, her voice melodic to her ears.

“So, I’m not big in poetry, I’m more of a comic book gal if you catch my drift, so I was hoping that you had some thoughts?” She drags the o in hoping and trails off waiting for Emily to fill in the blanks. It takes her a second too long because her brain is short-circuiting but she manages.

“Yeah okay, um, I’ve read some Sappho back when my mother was stationed in Greece? That could work?” she hopes bringing up Sappho wasn’t too obvious of her intentions, but it was all she could think of. Sappho had a point when she said ‘Sweet mother, I cannot weave – slender Aphrodite has overcome me with longing for a girl’

“Yeah okay! Cool! We’ve got like 3 minutes left of class, would you want to go to Bricks and Beans after school to work on it?”

“Uh yeah, yeah, that, um, that sounds great! I’ll meet you in front of the school?”

“Yep!” She pops the ‘p’ and Emily thinks she can’t possibly get cuter.

Emily’s walk to lunch has never been quite this mix of excitement and anxiety as it is now. Hopefully, JJ will be able to make sense of what’s happening because the wires in Emily’s brain are very much twisted.

“Okay, I’m telling you it’s not a date,”

“Yeah I know it’s not technically a date but come on. I personally have never asked my group project partner to a coffee shop before. She obviously likes you.”

Jennifer Jareau has been blessed with the right combination of looks that ensures she never had to wonder if her crushes liked her back. Emily wishes she had that special brand of confidence, but it’s simply not realistic, the number of openly queer girls at school is small, the number of them that would be interested in her? Even smaller.

“Look I’m not going to be the loser that gets my heart broken all right,” she steals a fry off of JJ’s tray before her hand gets smacked.

“Ugh I’m so bored here, promise me you’ll at least try. I need some new drama around here and you two would be so fucking cute.”

“Fine. On the condition that when* it goes south you’re buying me ice cream.”

Emily’s day goes by slowly and all at once. Hours turn into years turn into seconds and before she knows it she’s awkwardly standing outside the building waiting for Penelope to meet her.

When she does, Emily’s pulse quickens ever so slightly in her presence. It’s annoying as hell.

“I was worried you were standing me up,” a futile attempt on Emily’s behalf of trying to seem calm, cool, and collected.

“What! I would never, I’ve been looking forward to getting a macchiato and hanging out with you and Sappho all day! Coolest ladies from recent history,” she has to try and stop herself from getting too excited at Penelope’s words, they don’t mean anything, she’s just some loser that she has to work with to get a good final grade in the class. A means to an end, disposable.

“I don’t think Sappho counts as recent history but thank you, ma’am,” ma’am? God, what is she doing, this is going to go south faster than the time she tried to wear ripped jeans to one of her mother’s stupid dinner parties. To her surprise, her stupid comment is met with a giggle on Penelope’s part.

“Why thank you darling,” she replies in a phony southern accent that makes them both crack up, “Lead the way.”

Bricks and Beans is the staple coffee shop where all the high schoolers hang out after school or work during college. The owners are a sweet old couple in their 70’s who seem to be reliving the past with the vintage decorations. The pair settle into a table in the back, a window next to them showing off the highway. Emily is tasked with buying the coffees and Penelope rattles off her order filled with things Emily’s never even heard of.

“Okay, I’m pretty sure the barista is laughing at me now but here is your sugar coffee with whipped cream,” she says as she slides into her seat, placing down the coffees on the minimal free space left.

“My savior,” she says, fake swooning, “Okay so, Sappho? That’s the lesbian right?”

Emily answers with a snort before actually replying, “Yeah that’s the lesbian. I’m sure Blake will love it. I’m like, 90% sure she’s gay.”

“Single English teacher who loves Oscar Wilde? Yeah, I get it. My gaydar is spectacular by the way.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nods.

“Um, yeah, okay how about this poem:

‘and in your song most of all she rejoiced.

But now she is conspicuous among Lydian women

as sometimes at sunset

the rosyfingered moon

surpasses all the stars. And her light

stretches over salt sea

equally and flowerdeep fields.

And the beautiful dew is poured out

and roses bloom and frail

chervil and flowering sweetclover.

But she goes back and forth remembering

gentle Atthis and in longing

she bites her tender mind’”

“That’s gorgeous,” Penelope had a dreamy look in her eyes, like seeing a beautiful sunset for the first time. Except, instead of a sunset she was looking at Emily, seeing her, like for the first time, “I love when artists talk about the stars,” she leans back on her chair and looks up as if she’s looking at a constellation and not an off-white popcorn ceiling. Her collarbones are exposed and Emily feels like a 17th-century peasant pining over exposed ankles, “There’s just something about the stars ya know? They’re so far away, but sometimes it feels like we’re there with them. They twinkle at us and at each other,” she pauses to make eye contact, “maybe the greatest love story is in the sky,” there’s a beat too long, Emily doesn’t know how to respond to that comment, it’s hard to follow art without ruining it.

“Or maybe I’m just a sad sap for romance.”

“No!” She gets a of couple heads turned her way, the exclamation too loud for the environment, “I mean no, I get what you mean, they’re beautiful. Sometimes at night I go on my roof just to stargaze. It’s so peaceful there,” it’s now or never, “you should do it with me someday.”

“I’d love that,” it’s almost bashful, the two of them hoping the underlying meanings of their words are being shown, lest their hopes not be conveyed and come shattering down like a falling star.

The sun slowly sets as they work on interpreting the inter-workings of Sappho’s mind. The drinks run out so Emily buys them both hot chocolate, extra whipped cream and chocolate chips for Penelope. When she takes a sip, the whipped cream sticks to the side of her face.

“You got some whipped cream on your face,” she gestures to the offender in question. The blonde tries and fails, to get it off.

“Did I get it?”

“No, it’s more,” after some failed attempts, and the failure of Emily’s common sense, she decides to just get it off herself. It feels too intimate too quick, they both freeze, Emily’s hand inches away from Penelope’s face. Their eyes lock, scared brown eyes met soft blue ones and just for a second, there is peace in between their beating hearts and hands. Emily quickly brings her hand down and mumbles an apology.

After three hours they call it a night, Emily now the proud owner of Penelope’s phone number. On her drive home, she wonders if she’d done right, and she wonders if she’d done wrong. If she was clear about what stargazing meant to her. A branch into her world, her safe space. To share the dark night sky with something is to share your soul with them. Even JJ didn’t know about her nighttime viewings. Did Penelope feel the same way? The shared smiles and small laughs pointed yes. But Penelope was Penelope and Emily was Emily. How could an angel love a human? Why would it sacrifice its virtue for the danger of love? If Penelope was pink and Emily was dark green, could they mix and make something beautiful or would they both end up a ruined brown?

Dinner is tense as always, she does not share anything with her mother, she does not want to. They tiptoe around each other hoping that they won’t step on each other’s toes and crash. Emily retreats to her room the second dinner is over and opens a window. She loves that it gets dark earlier now. The fresh fall air trumps that tacky of scented candles that fill the house in a futile attempt to make it a home. She opens her laptop to finish the concluding paragraph of their essay. She allows herself to be lost in the words of another in order to avoid her own problems of love and belonging. Her phone rings. It’s her problems. They chat with careful conversation about their project and finally, it is finished. It looks good actually, or at least, to Emily it does. It’s not going to win them a Pulitzer, but they’ll get an A.

And then, “Hey.”

“Hey?” They’ve been on the phone for a half an hour, she’s not sure why she’s being greeted all of a sudden.

“Does your offer to stargaze still stand? It’s nice out tonight and, I don’t know, it sounded nice?”

“Yeah of course! Do you, um, do you need a ride or?”

“Nah I got my license and good old Esther. I do need your address though.”

“Oh yeah, I’ll text it to you. Who’s Esther?”

“My car! She’s a lovely thing thought she needed a name. I’ll be there in say, 15 minutes?”

“Sure. Bye Penelope.”

Holy shit.

Okay, she’s got 15 minutes to both have everything ready, but also seem completely casual about the fact that her crush is coming over to stargaze on her roof. The ambassador is long retreated either in bed or into her office, so she shouldn’t be a problem. Emily grabs a couple of blankets for them to sit on to avoid the chilly breeze and a bag of popcorn. She brushes her hair and touches up her eyeliner, not that it’s really visible in the dark, but it helps her feel confident which she’s desperate for at the moment. Her phone buzzes with a text, *im here!!!* It reads. She takes a deep breath before very slowly opening the door.

“Hi,” she whispers, the wind carrying her voice, but it’s just loud enough for its recipient. She closes the door

“Hi! So! Stargazing? That’s fun, I’m like, really excited it’s been a while since I’ve done something like this,” she somehow makes a whisper seem filled with enough energy to power a flashlight that Emily definitely should have brought. They make their way to the intersection where the hill meets the rooftop, and they only trip once, on a stick, but together they stay upright. Emily throws the blankets on the roof and climbs up on the chair before throwing her body on the roof. With her help, Penelope makes her way up after a couple of tries. By the time they lay the blankets out and are sitting down, they’re both practically crying from laughter, her nerves from earlier disappearing slowly.

The laughter fizzles out, and they’re both left staring at the stars. Penelope apparently is an expert of both astronomy and astrology so Emily’s ears are blessed with the sound of her voice. Like sunshine on a sweet summer day. She thinks that Penelope and her are like the sun and the moon, both beautiful, and complementary. Emily’s gaze shifts from the constellations to Penelope’s side profile. The stars shine almost as bright as her, and she can’t help but watch her instead. She can see the stars in her eyes, perhaps they were always there, but they’re more visible now looking in their reflection.

“God they’re beautiful,” Penelope says in awe. Like she can’t believe she’s blessed with the presence of the stars when really it is the stars who should have the honor.

“Yeah, yeah they are,” at this point she’s openly gazing at Penelope. When Penelope turns to meet her gaze she thinks she’s been caught, that it’s over and this night will be one for the ages in terms of beauty and heartbreak. Slowly, a hand makes its way to her cheek, cold like the air around them, but it somehow manages to set her skin on fire.

“May I?”

Emily nods and then they are lips on hers, it is sweet just like her. She’s being kissed under the starlight by a girl who deserves only beauty. Perhaps her dark green can be the field by the sunset of Penelope’s pink in the painting they make together. They do not have to mix, they can simply be combined to create something stunning. They can simply be. They pull apart slowly, and looking into her eyes, Emily thinks that the stars in comparison are simply dull. There is nothing as bright and beautiful in the world as the eyes of your lover.

Tag list- @royalpenelope @scandinavian-punk @kermitsaysgayrights

#penemily #Penelope garcia #emily prentiss #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #let me know what y’all think!!!#lucy’s fics!#mine!

35 notes · View notes

thecaptainhelm · 4 years

Text

Aesthetically Pleasing

Super excited, so without further delay, here is my day one. Also heads, my writing style is doing that weird evo thing so if the tone is weird, that’s why. And the minimal editing, that too. ;D

Day 1: Inspiration

@daminette-december2019-2020

Damian walked through the streets of Paris at a sedate pace with the bare essentials, in no particular hurry as he made his way to the address written in his sketchbook. He hasn’t been to France much, not since his days with the Shadows, and even then he only stayed in this particular city for the rare surveillance mission.

It’s different somehow, he mused. Father had taken him and the rest of the family for a ‘pleasure jaunt’, while he touched base with the European branch of the Justice League. For the sake of a cover story, he publicized it as family vacation and encouraged everyone to take a few days to themselves before they made fools of themselves for the local and international media houses. Not something he was looking forward to, so he would make the most of these next few days.

Soon, he found himself at the entrance of a secluded park, the metal plaque translating to Solitude’s Grace in english. It was relatively new and was constructed to convert an old parking lot into a small and intimate park, at least when compared to others in the city. Plentiful flora, Edwardian columns and street lamps providing him with a sense of being stuck in time, a romanticized feeling.

He made his way in, taking a deep breath as he did so. With the way the park was constructed, it’s distance from the busy tourist sites, and the muffling effect of the surrounding hedge fence, the park is quiet and comforting. He sets out on a stone path, occasionally passing by others who seem to find the same relief he does in being alone. He sighs this time, heading further in to find a place to sit. If there’s one disadvantage to this place, it’s that everyone wants a seat to themselves, and he didn’t feel like sitting next to someone on the off chance of them trying to make conversation.

As he goes, the overcast sky breaks somewhat and opens over an occupied stone bench, revealing a girl who appears to be around his age. In that moment, were he a different kind of man, he would have called a sight like this a chance from fate. As he got closer, he saw that she was cute, quite pretty in fact. Her legs were clad in washed out skinny jeans, white polka dotted converse and a white vest to tie it all together. Her hair was pulled into twin tails over her shoulders, shining like silk in her temporary spotlight. The sudden light reflected off of her pale skin and emphasized her silhouette with a divine halo.

However, what truly captivated him was her presence. She exuded a relaxed and casual atmosphere, flipping through a small sketchbook, occasionally jotting something down tongue stuck out of a focused grin. In that instant he saw the scene before him as a moment of indulgence, a moment to enjoy a hobby and unwind in nature.

A familiar feeling spread through his chest as he observed her, fingers twitching. He knew what this feeling was, he knew it very well, little as it happened.

He watched her lean onto her palms, seeing the relaxed curve of her spine as she tilted her head up to look up at the gap of sunlight as it moved over to him, and then her eyes, a stunning blue that widened slightly as she caught sight of him. He saw the way they brightened, and knew that she felt as he did, too. He changed direction and made his way to the mysterious beauty.

His breath stuttered in his chest as she stood to make her way to him as well. With every move she made he found her all the more beautiful.

The tilt of her smile, the roving of her eyes up and down his form, the sunlight providing a fading halo as she moved toward him--

“Salut,” he said at the same time she said, “Hello.”

“Oh, désolée,” she stammered over his own, “My apologies, I’ve--”

They both fell into silence before she abruptly started laughing, and heavens, if he thought that she was pretty before then seeing her so expressive was like waking up to dream.

“Amazing,” he murmured to himself, and patiently waited for her to regain control.

“I’m sorry,” she said in english, her accent pronounced. “I’ve been speaking to tourists all day for the past few weeks. I’ve formed an unfortunate habit.”

“There’s no need for apologies, I believe. Also, if I may say, I think the lady speaks beautifully.” He bowed with an arm across the waist.

“My name is Damian. This may seem brusque, but I have a request to make of you, should you deign to hear me out.” Her eyebrow quirked at his polite speech but it didn’t last as she looked at him more seriously.

She observed him for a moment, a brief period that seemed to stretch on for minutes as her eyes pierced through his.

“Well, as long as it’s reasonable. And,” she paused, gazing intensely at his...shoulders?

“And, if you grant one of mine.” She grinned brightly and clasped her fist in her palm.

“My name is Marinette. Enchanté, Damian.”

He nodded and nodded back to her bench. She nodded in return and soon they sat facing each other.

“I’ll be honest, this is a little weird, you think? At least, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking.” Marinette started, fidgeting as she spoke.

“Then I believe great minds think alike, Marinette. This is rather forward of me, but I would like you to pose for me.” He held up his sketchbook and opened it to a few of his drawings of people, animals and landscapes. She looked at them all with an appreciative gaze that had him inwardly preening.

“In that case, may I have your measurements in turn, as well as some quick poses?” Damian’s face went carefully blank and he stood up to make a quick escape. She jumped a bit at his sudden movement, and appeared confused before her eyes widened as she interpreted his reaction to her last sentence.

“Wait, wait, not in a gross way, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m so sorry!” She squawked as she flailed her arms in a panic, a blush overtaking her face. Idly, he wondered if she was trying to take flight with all the flapping she was doing.

Still, he could admit when he jumped to conclusions. Well, actually he made the rare exception now and again, but she didn’t have to know that.

He looked her in the face and after a tense silence, raised a single brow as though to say, “Well?”

“Designer! I’m a designer, I make clothes, graphic art, and accessories! I’m not trying to harass you I swear and I’m so sorry that I even made you think that way and I’m so sorry I made you get up to run as if you were in danger, but it’s not if, you really thought you were in danger of being with a weird sexual harasser and--” her face was starting to get to an alarming shade of red.

“Stop,” he snapped and her mouth clicked shut. He nearly sighed as out loud as he saw how she almost bit her tongue in her hurry. His frustration quickly faded as he saw her retreat into herself, quickly becoming distracted.

It’s truly artfully done, he thought, I would think she was posing on purpose if I didn’t know any better.

He would make a few changes to her posture and fix the lighting, but other than that he would take her as is in a heartbeat. Everything about her was urging him to commit her form to paper, an immortalized vision frozen in time.

“I, um,” she sighed, gaze averted. “That happens more than I like unfortunately. I, it’s, um,” she sighed again.

“I also would like to apologize for jumping to conclusions. Propositions tend to come my way, unwarranted, so I was quick to assume,” he said stiffly.

“Can we move on, please. I don’t, uh, know the specifics of your proposal anyway.”

“Of course,” he said curtly. “I only use my drawings as a personal form of enjoyment, and rarely show it to others beyond close personal friends and family. As well as ensuring that your image is safe and protected, I would also like to pay you to be my model, even if it’s only for a few hours at most.”

Marinette nodded slowly and he committed the change of shading to her features as she moved to memory along with her thoughtful expression.

“I don’t have a problem with that, but would you mind if I do your measurements after, sitting still for a long time makes me feel sluggish and I don’t like to walk around trying to wake myself up in public spaces.”

“Not at all,” he assured. “If that’s the case, I wouldn’t mind you taking your sketches first, switching out would be more beneficial to you at the end.”

“Why, that does sound nice, but it might just make me feel bad,” she said teasingly. Seeing his confused frown, she giggled.

“I can tell just by looking at you that you’re practically dying to get me posing for you,” she grinned at him, eyes sparkling.

“Tch, since you insist,” he said without trying to fight her on it because she was right. During their entire exchange he’d been drinking in her every detail like depraved loon.

“If you would gather your things, in that case? I don’t know how much longer I can wait until I get my hands on you.” Hearing this, she blushed and began to stutter.

“Oh, uh, yeah, gazebo by lake, middle park of, um,” she quickly looked down as she grabbed her jacket and backpack.

Without any lingering qualms, he leaned over her to look at her face more closely.

“Yes, that’s exactly the face I want to see,” he rasped with dark eyes.

“Ok, I’m ready! Let me lead the way, native and what not!” She laughed nervously as she hurried to the center of the park.

Damian grunted and slung his satchel over his shoulder and easily matched her stride.

He became preoccupied thinking of ways to shift and coordinate her body to the scenery, which is why it felt like no time at all when they reached the gazebo.

It was a brown, humbly crafted structure that matched the atmosphere of the park, with its rose hedges wrapping around the fencing and lacquered benches and railings. He and Marinette walked up the steps together and soon he was pulling out his sketchbook and turning toward his model in a hurry.

“If I may?” He held out his hands and waited for her approval. Marinette set her things down next to his and took a deep breath before whispering a soft okay.

He slowly approached her lightly grasped her shoulders, gently pressing down and her body folded to sit on the bench behind her. He let go, trailing his hand to her wrist and bending her down, down, down, until she was leaning over an empty space bracketed by her forearm. He backed away slightly, turning her head to gaze at the invisible person beneath her. Finally, he lightly pulled her lower lip into a subtle opening as if she were helpless to give in and close the final distance for a kiss. He traced her cheek and that blush from before rose, a new sight in the different lighting and he memorized it.

Done with her head and torso, he told her that he was going to touch her legs, and she gave the ok again. Carefully, he curled both legs in the same direction, spreading them somewhat and planting one foot down as though it was going to push her up and let the other loosely rest at a comfortable angle.

Stepping back he saw the image he desired, but somehow better. The sky had turned a pale bluish gray that gave Marinette, posed as she was, a fragile halo.

He grasped his sketchbook and began.

An hour later, on his fourth sketch and her third and final pose, it started to rain.

Marinette, leaning against the bench with her head tilted a bit over its edge, gasped as the cold water pelted her face out of nowhere.

Damian cursed, rushing to grab their things and move them to the center of the floor and the rain began in earnest.

He’s kneeling as he puts them down, so when his new model leans over him to grab at her backpack, he looks up on instinct and gets a face full of a wet jamila.

Marinette is only somewhat wet from the pouring rain, but the sky is still bright with that bluish gray from earlier and provides a backdrop of faint light to reflect off the few raindrops that are trailing from her bangs, dripping off her dark, fluttering eyelashes to roll down freckled cheeks in a mimicry of tears that leaves him ensorcelled.

“I have a towel in my bag, could you…?” She makes a vague gesture for him to move and Damian is distantly aware that his expression is akin to that of a slack jawed moron. He rose up to his full height, and he feels that he can’t help his next words.

“Sincerely, you become lovelier and lovelier the more I look at you,” he reverently intoned as he stared into her eyes, watching with rapt attention as her own stare focused on him.

“It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one feeling this way,” she said. “From the moment I saw you I couldn’t help but memorize the way you looked then, underneath a circle of dappled sunlight.” She licked her lips, blue eyes darkening to a silvery hue.

“I really,” her eyes begin to run a trail from shoulder to shoulder, down his chest and stopping at his waist.

“I really liked your posture when you bowed earlier,” she said in a breathless whisper.

“Is that so?” He matched her tone, watching her appraise him.

“With the proper shirt, I could really emphasize that, give you a mandarin collar and make the cuffs round themselves out, three holes, one for the cufflinks and the other two to anchor the embroidery. A pale grey with geometric patterns to call attention to the rigidity of your stance and will allow for others to make note of your impeccable discipline.”

“Thank you,” he said and found that he meant it. “For agreeing to this, I mean. Today has been so…”

“Magical?” She guessed.

“Fulfilling.” He watched as a small rain droplet trickled down her cheek and brought his hand up to wipe it away.

“I never thought a day like this would happen,” he continued. “To think I met my muse an ocean away from home.”

“Muse? Me?” Marinette said in wonder. There was that blush again, delicately framing her freckles in a pink hue that spread all the way up to her ears.

“Indeed,” he said. “ After all, no other person has inspired me as swiftly as you did.”

“Likewise, Damian.”

They stood there together under the gazebo until the rain settled completely. They parted in opposite directions, longing but reassured with the knowledge that they wouldn’t be separated for long.

In the space between them, lightning flashed above and thunder rolled quietly in the distance.

#daminette #daminette december 2020 #maribat

33 notes · View notes

marveloussupernerd · 4 years

Text

august - Yoosung Kim

This did not go ANYWHERE near where I expected. I had an idea and then fell asleep while writing and then went with another idea.

Summary: the RFA rents out a beach house for a vacation. You and Yoosung have been together and find it very challenging be to be overly affectionate in everything you do (one of Jumin’s rules). Yoosung gets jealous when Zen helps you put on your sunscreen

The RFA was in desparate need of a break. In the past two years you had had six parties; significantly more than the group had ever had in the past. You were really good at what you did it turned out; famous people and high-profile organizations were lining up to be invited to the next party, so you tried your best to keep up.

Of course, as time went on you branched out from your job a little; now you helped organize the location and call the caterers. V was more than happy to get your help with it.

Of course, the main reason why you enjoyed these parties so much was because you got to spend time with your boyfriend. However, it had come to Jumin’s attention that the whole group could use a weekend getaway.

And that’s how he rented a five-bedroom beach house. Truth be told, he would have gone for a bigger place but there was nothing for tent of that grandeur. Oh well. Seven would have to share a room with his brother (who had recently made his way into the RFA after a very confusing and dramatic turn of events) and Jumin and V would share a room (interpret that how you want). Of course, you were fortunate enough to get to share with your boyfriend.

You and Yoosung had moved in together about a year into your relationship when his contract for his apartment ended. You invited him to stay with you and he took the offer graciously. You liked sleeping in bed with him; it was a struggle at first, as Yoosung tends to toss and turn, but he’s calmed down a lot since because you hold him at night.

Your first evening consisted of the group sitting around the dining room table and playing board games (The Game of Life... Jumin won which made Zen very very upset) and then cuddling with Yoosung, cheesy as it sounds. You hadn’t realized how tired you had been until you recognized you could barely keep your eyes open during the story he was excitingly telling you. Luckily he forgave you for dozing off.

The next morning the group went off to the beach. You got into your swimsuit and stepped out, looking for some form of cover-up. You heard a thud. Yoosung had dropped his towel and sunscreen and was staring daggers at your body. “I. Wow. You look-“ his face was bright red but he didn’t look away. He had learned that there was no need. You were his and he yours, so it didn’t matter sharing all intimate parts of yourself with one another.

“It’s a bit much, huh?” You asked, glancing down at the suit and hoping he would say no. “I can change. Especially if you’re uncomfortable-“

“No!” He blurted out. “You look great.” He walked toward you, resting his hands on your hips and pulling you in for a kiss. “I’m so lucky.”

“Me too,” you whispered, faces so close you could feel the deep breaths he was taking on your cheek. “Have you seen my coverup anywhere?” You asked, chanting the subject. Jumin would be very annoyed if you two made the group late.

“Are you sure you packed it?” He questioned, going through the drawers. He threw something your way and you caught it. “You can just wear one of my shirts if you want.”

“Cute,” you commented, pulling the shirt over your head. It didn’t do much of a good job of covering you up completely, so you had to pair it with shorts. But it did make you feel all warm and cozy in Yoosung’s clothes.

You looked at your reflection in the mirror, not even noticing as Yoosung’s figure crept up behind you, tackling you from behind into a hug, planting kisses across your cheek. “Yoo-sung!” You laughed, out of breath from the shock that gave you and the laughter that followed.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, looking back at your reflection in the mirror. “I just can’t believe you’re real sometimes.”

You grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the room and towards the living room. He was being so cute and affectionate but, again, Jumin would be PISSED if you kept him waiting. No surprise, everyone was waiting in the living room for the two of you. “All ready to go!” You cheered. Did you get very strange stares as they realized you didn’t have a towel with you? Yes. Did you have Yoosung go back to the room (by himself so he couldn’t get distracted again) to grab the towels and sunscreen that he earlier dropped? Yup.

Yoosung laid out your beach towels directly next to each other, making one giant beach towel so that you could lounge next to each other if you wanted. He took his shirt off and tossed it to the side before reaching down to grab the sunscreen. You torre your eyes away, extremely flustered. You focused your time on stripping down to your swimsuit as well, folding the clothes and putting them neatly on the corner of the towel.

“You want me to help you get some sunscreen on?” Yoosung asked. He had a very innocent tone to his voice, but you knew better than that. Jumin was very adamant on how he didn’t want to see a bunch of disgusting couple stuff and you two grabbing each other or getting it on (direct quote, you were not allowed to ‘do the do’ on this trip), so you knew Yoosung was using it as an excuse to touch you.

Still, you nodded. “I can get everything but my back.” The two of you very quickly and messily slathered lotion on your front-half, excited to be able to touch each other and be all cute when you needed to put the lotion on your back.

Yoosung instructed you to lay face-down on the towel, which you complied with, then made sure to move your hair out of the way so that he could cover everything with sunscreen. His hands were gentle: a callous here or there from playing games and writing papers, but overall very soft. You closed your eyes and let him do his work, his hands massaging your back gently when he sensed any form of tension. This was just a very over-the-top sunscreen application, you thought, it made you giggle.

Finally, his hands stopped. He looked down at you, a content smile on his face. “You look sleepy. Will you be able to get mine?” He was blushing. You pushed yourself up and nodded, instructing him to lay the same way you had.

What started as a simple sunscreen application had resulted in you drawing shapes on his back, different messages like “I love you” or hearts or clouds. He sighed. “You’re gonna make me fall asleep if you keep that up,” his voice was groggy. He had pulled an all-nighter two nights ago, so it was no surprise he was tired.

“If you fall asleep, I’ll make sure to keep adding sunscreen so you don’t burn,” you laid down next to him, pushing your shoulder into his. “Go ahead. This is supposed to be a relaxing vacation after all.”

He nodded, glancing over at you. “Well... could you do it again? It was really helping make me tired.” His ears heated up and turned bright red from his request, but you simply nodded, going back to drawing along his back.

Yoosung had fallen asleep. You were on your phone, checking the time to make sure you reapplied his sunscreen for him. Then Zen stopped by, his hair slicked back from the salt water, kneeling down to talk with you. “He’s really out, huh?” He asked.

“Yep. He stayed up all night the other night so I’m not surprised,” you brushed a piece of hair out of his face. His nose crinkled. “So I figured I’d let him rest.”

“Yoosung, that boy,” he shook his head, laughing. “Anyways I came to bring you bottles of water. I don’t remember you two having any.”

“Oh yeah! Thank you,” you smiled, grabbing the bottles from him.

“You’re starting to get a little red on your shoulders,” he pointed out, “might want to reapply.”

You glanced at your shoulders and wow, he was right. You grabbed the sunscreen and started to get to work. However, the wind was blowing your hair everywhere, causing it to brush against the not yet rubbed in sunscreen.

“Let me help with that,” Zen offered, grabbing your hair gently and pulling it away from your shoulders while you applied. You muttered a ‘thank you’ as you finished up.

Yoosung stirred, changing his position so that he could face you. His eyes widened as he saw the scene in front of him unfold.

“Yoosung, Honey. You’re up,” you smiled, finishing rubbing in the sunscreen. “Thank you Zen.” He let go of your hair and situated himself back in front of the two of you.

Yoosung was flustered, his cheeks bright red. “Zen, I... I... I challenge you to a sandcastle building contest!” He declared.

Zen and you burst out laughing, but stopped as you noticed Yoosung didn’t join, his eyes narrowed. “Uh, okay,” Zen agreed awkwardly. “What are the rules?”

“Build the best sandcastle in thirty minutes!” He announced, jumping up from his spot and running towards the water. “Ready set go!”

You chuckled, moseying on towards the water and Yoosung. You savored the feeling of the cool water passing over your toes, turning to watch him frantically scoop up wet sand. “Yoosung, Love, how can I help?”

He paused briefly, looking up from his mound of sand. “Help? You want to help?”

“Duh,” you kneeled on the sand next to him. “We’re a team, we practically count as one person. So how can I help?”

“No!” He yelled, but not like he was yelling at you. More like a warrior call. He was getting very into this contest. “This is a battle to win your heart! You can’t help.”

“My heart?” You asked skeptically, your eyebrows raised. “You already won that one.”

“B-but...” you had made him flustered, drawing his attention completely away from the sandcastle. “You and Zen were...”

“He was helping me with my sunscreen. My hair kept getting in the way,” you glanced both ways to make sure nobody was watching, then pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I would’ve had you do it but you were so cute sleeping. You know I’m not into Zen like that.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” He cupped your cheek gently, but you reeled away immediately, wet sand getting on your face. You squealed his name, backing up from his embrace and wiping the sand off your face. “I’m hurt,” he joked, giving you a puppy dog face.

You groaned, kneeling back down towards him. “Come here you idiot.” You pulled him in for a real kiss this time. One of his hands grabbed your waist, the other cupping your cheek once more, leaving behind wet sand again. You flinched at the feeling of it, but kept kissing him. You pulled away, pressing a kiss to his nose. “See? I’ve got sand on my face and everything but I dealt with it for you because I love you. Now will you let me help you with this sandcastle or not?”

You guys lost. Dramatically. It was no surprise Zen made something so aesthetic and beautiful. Yours was just a mound of sand with a few seashells on top. Yoosung whined that it was because you distracted him, but you were sure he didn’t actually mind. You were distracting him and not Zen. So who was the real winner?

#mystic messenger #mysme #Yoosung Kim #folklore

35 notes · View notes

rubbish78 · 3 years

Text

Heyyyyyyyyy you guys wanna read another my short ass slightly slutty (tiny bit) Ghoul/Poison fic?

(It is on aO3 but not posting the link just ask because keekjejejd I’m shy about my other stories but you could probably find this if you wanted to also I was writing nonbinary Poison)

Anyways...........here you go:

Jumping onto the kitchen counter and landing on his butt, Fun Ghoul also pulled his lover, Party Poison, in between his legs. Wrapping his arms around them, he mouthed at their neck, sucking and licking the hot salty skin. Tasted like the desert, so damn good.

Reciprocating, Poison held on to his hips and played with Ghoul’s dusty jean belt loops with their index fingers. They also grinded against Ghoul’s crotch, feeling both their half-hard erections begin to grow between their pants. An animistic moan vibrated against the skin of their throat as Ghoul began to rut against them as well.

The two Killjoys were alone for the most part, everyone was out on a run at the moment, yet they still sneaked into the back of the diner's chaotic kitchen like they had something to hide. Pretty much everyone knew about them, mostly, well not the public or definitely not BLI .

“I know ya think I’m kiddin','' Fun Ghoul abruptly whispered into Poison’s ear, referring back to their earlier conversation. Easing back against the dirty metal cupboards, he cupped Poison’s feminine face with his dirty fingerless leather-gloved hands. “But c'mon Poison, have I ever kid about gettin' ink?”

The evidence was everywhere, Ghoul was covered head to toe with various tattoos, getting to the point he hardly had any plain skin left. His cute boyish face remained untouched…for now and he would probably never get one either but he never let Poison know that just so he could continue teasing them about it since Poison was furiously against it. Nah, he just wanted to ink the left side of his neck now since it felt kind of blank compared to the right side of his neck, which had a scorpion with the wrong amount of legs. It had been his first tattoo and was too excited to even notice the legs.

Poison chuckled low, lifting a hand to card through Ghoul’s greasy ebony colored hair and gazed lovingly into his warm brown eyes.

“Trust me, I know you’re not kidding, I’m actually taking your request quite seriously.”

“So you like?” Ghoul happily beamed, caressing Poison’s face with his thumbs about to plant a kiss on their lips. “I knew you would, so I got—

“Not exactly,” Poison interrupted Ghoul, who frowned a little and dropped his hands to their shoulders. “I just think…you haven’t fully thought it through, like maybe something not so whore-ish?”

“Whore-ish?” Ghoul repeated, almost breaking into hysterical laughter, shaking his head. “Really? Okay. That’s hilarious coming from you.”

“Ah! How dare you!” Poison broke away from him, spinning around in a dramatic manner and ramming into the broken rusty oven, which hadn’t cooked a meal in this diner for years. The oven let out an alarming hissing noise and Poison let a high pitched shriek out before jumping up on the counter next to Ghoul, holding onto him like the oven was gonna explode.

Anticlimactically, the oven door just slammed opened and coughed out dust.

Poison’s grip on Ghoul relaxed and mumbled, “Thought you might have put a bomb in there as a joke or something.”

“Yeah that does sound like me,” Ghoul smirked, deviously. “Good idea for next time, huh? Maybe I’ll try it on Kobra.”

Poison snorted, rolling their eyes and pushed aside Ghoul’s long hair behind his left ear. Staring at the canvas of skin Ghoul wanted to ink before tenderly kissing it. “I can come up with way better ideas,” Poison murmured into his skin. “Let me draw some things up.”

“Wait, first I gotta hear why you think my idea is whore(ish),” Ghoul retorted, genuinely curious. Gripping Poison’s delicate chin, he turned his face to the side and licked the shell of his ear. “I mean come on, if anyone is a whore it’s you—

Letting out a let loud mock offended gasp, Poison playfully smacked Ghoul across the face as if they were one of those actors performing a fake slap onstage. Ghoul half-laughed, half-aroused tried to grab his flailing arms as they mimicked a distressed southern debutante: “Well, I have never been accused of such debauchery in my life!” Fanning their face, they dramatically sighed in Ghoul’s arms. “How will I ever get a good marriage match now with vicious rumors like that spreading around the zones?”

“Ain’t rumors if they are true, sweetheart,” Ghoul teased back in an equally horrible southern drawl. “Now why don’t you put that pretty mouth to good use?” Ghoul fumbled with a pocket on his vest before unexpectedly pulling out a tube of lipstick.

Poison stopped thrashing his body around and dropped the horrible accent. “Wow okay…. you came prepared, you weirdo.”

Ghoul cracked a small smile and shrugged, handing him the tube of lipstick.

Poison took the cap off, finding the lipstick to be the same color as their neon red hair. The lipstick had definitely been used before as it was worn down to almost a nub but most things they found in the desert were broken or used.

“You really want this?”

“Yeah because I’m a whore.”

“Okay maybe “whore-ish” wasn’t the right word,” Poison bashfully admitted, as they played with the lipstick, twisting the tube up and down. “It’s like ugh, uhhh how do I say this uhhhhh…...”

Ghoul raised an eyebrow.

“Like I don’t know, people might interpret it as you being straight.”

If Ghoul was a cartoon his eyebrow would have raised off his forehead into the air.

“I don’t know, it’s something a twenty year old drunk girl would get, y’know?”

“Okay, okay now I’m lost,” Ghoul chuckled in confusion. “So it’s gay then if I got it then?”

“Like ahhhh no!” Poison shook their head, lifting a hand to rub their eyes. Embarrassed, they looked through his fingers at Ghoul. “I mean a girl might get it because it’s aesthetically cute, but boys might get to show off how much they get laid.”

Chuckling, Ghoul took Poison’s hands in his own. “Okay I get what you’re saying...kind of.” Taking the lipstick tube from Poison, he uncapped it and began applying on Poison’s lips, who hesitantly puckered their lips. “As soon as anyone sees you standing next to me they will connect the fucking dots.” He then fished out his pair of aviator sunglasses from a vest pocket and held them up so Poison could see their own reflection of their beautiful red lips.

“But it’s not for anyone else anyways,” Ghoul continued, beaming at Poison who seemed to really like the look on themself. “It’s for me and...fuck, you look hot.”

“Shut up,” Poison blushed, face getting dangerously close to his hair color. “Fine whatever, hold still!” Moving Fun Ghoul’s hair aside, they kissed the left side of his neck and lingered there trying to leave the perfect kiss mark.

Ghoul knew the kiss mark was probably gonna get messed up by the time Show Pony got here with the needles and ink because he was planning to kiss them everywhere but he loved the novelty of the act

“You happy?” they snapped after pulling away, however; lovingly played and twirled with Ghoul’s hair.

“Always with you.”

#my fanfictions #danger days fun ghoul party poison fic

3 notes · View notes

not-majestic-bluenicorn · 4 years

Text

Crescent || Chapter 5

Fandom(s): ATEEZ

AU: Treasure Hunters

Genre: Action, Fantasy, Sci-Fi

Relationship: Everyone x Everyone, Established Hongjoong x Yunho

Language: English

Status: Ongoing

Chapter WC: 5,789 words

Warnings: Character Death, Stabbing, Fighting, Blood, Aliens, War, Funerals, Kidnapping, Attempted Kidnapping, Mentions of Child Abuse / Child Work, Explosions, Murder Attempt, Robbery, Homeless/Runaway Character, more will be added.

Chapter Warnings: Robbery, Homeless/Runaway Character

Summary:

"My name is Jung Wooyoung..." He looked at the sword and then back up, locking eyes with the man. It was overwhelming to know this was one of the people he was destined to be with, now pointing a sword at him. "What is your name?"

"Kang Yeosang."

AO3

<< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >>

Tagged: @angel0taiyo

Wooyoung had arrived at Sonne U-28 about a week ago. He had managed to locate the port Captain Hongjoong's ship had sailed from, but nothing more. No one knew where it was headed, and he hadn't had any more prophetic dreams since then; he had also been too afraid to use the necklace the Interpreter had given him. Since he didn't know where to leave, he spent the week trying to figure out more about Hongjoong and his crew from the people that had built the boat.

He didn't get much out of them though, both because of confidentiality and because they didn't truly know who Hongjoong was, just that he was well off. Wooyoung already knew Hongjoong was wealthy from what he had gathered in his dreams, after all, Hongjoong was a prince. But he needed to know where they were headed to.

The options had long run out and he was left with only one choice, to try using the necklace or to give up on his mission, and that wasn't an option to him. Wooyoung spent the whole day preparing himself mentally to use the necklace. It was fairly simple, he just had to sleep with it on. His body would be able to draw on the power of the necklace by itself and his soul would take him where he needed to go in order to progress.

When the night came, Wooyoung sat down on his bed with the collar in his hands and observed it, making one last attempt at calming himself down before attempting to use the necklace for the first time. It was nerve wracking. Still, he knew he didn't have much of an option, so he put it on and laid down. It took him longer than usual to fall asleep, even with the smell of syndesia working to calm him down.

As soon as he entered the dream world, however, he could tell he was no longer in his own mind. The place felt foreigner to him. It was wild and full of raw, uncontrolled energy, and Wooyoung had no idea who it could belong to. He only figured it out once he stumbled upon another man, roughly his same height, but lean and with a certain roughness around the edges.

There was no doubt in Wooyoung's mind that this man was the owner of the dream. Even though he looked calm and composed, there was a certain fierceness in his eyes that left him no doubt about it. As Wooyoung approached him, the space transformed around him into an enormous ship, and once Wooyoung was standing close enough, he noticed this was one of the men that had appeared in his vision next to Captain Hongjoong and Yunho.

"Who are you?" The man asked once he noticed Wooyoung, immediately pointing at him with a sword. Wooyoung knew it couldn't hurt him, but he still put his hands up.

"Kang Yeosang," The man replied as he put the sword down, looking at Wooyoung with a certain confusion. "Is this a dream?" He asked, and Wooyoung nodded, a little bit too enthusiastically. "Are you part of my dream?" Now this question was a little bit more complicated.

"You could say so,yes." Wooyoung nodded, apologetically. Yeosang didn't seem to know what he was, and it felt like telling him would only make things more complicated. "Consider me an omen."

Yeosang smiled, chuckling softly. He had a pretty smile, Wooyoung noticed, immediately slapping himself mentally for it. Sure, he was supposed to eventually end up together with him, but this still felt a little too early. Yeosang didn't even know yet he was a real person! Still, his smile was pretty.

"Sure, if you say so." Yeosang put the sword away. "Why would an omen appear in my dreams?

"Well, naturally, because there is something you should look forward to in your future, don't you think?" Wooyoung tilted his head. He liked that Yeosang was playing along with him, because truth be told, he had no idea about what he could or couldn't do while in someone else's dream.

"Then you're not an omen." Yeosang smiled suddenly, approaching him. "Omen sounds creepy and scary, you're more like a..." Yeosang's hand reached forward to touch Wooyoung's hair. His eyes were so focused, wondering how any of this could be real. "Like a very cute sign or prediction." He finished, looking Wooyoung in the eye.

Wooyoung coughed softly and pushed Yeosang's hand away, embarrassed. It was ridiculous how much his face could blush even in a dream. The fact that Yeosang was laughing again didn't help much either, but made him feel even worse. Was this how it was supposed to go? Was he supposed to be flirting with Yeosang like this? He had no idea.

"Omens can be good too!" He retaliated, for a lack of a better comeback.

"Okay, okay, you're an omen." Yeosang raised his hands in defeat, placating him. "Now, why is Mr. Omen visiting my dream? What are you here to warn me about?"

"There's a ship and some people you should find." Wooyoung explained. "The ship is not very big, made of very dark wood and white sails, it has a crescent moon on its sides, it's called Crescent." As Wooyoung described it, the image of the ship he had seen in his own vision and in the pictures he had been able to get in Sonne U-28 materialized in front of them. Yeosang gasped.

"How are you controlling my dream?" He asked, eyes wide open as he admired the beautiful vessel.

"Omen things." Said Wooyoung, which was code for 'I have no idea either'.

"And why do I have to find them?" Yeosang asked, still not entirely convinced.

"That... I cannot tell you." Wooyoung shook his head. "I have to go now though."

It was clear that Yeosang didn't know what he was yet, and Wooyoung didn't want to scare him away by telling him he was destined to meet seven men and recover a legendary treasure most people didn't even believe to be real. Honestly, Wooyoung was only doing this because he fully believed in the mission and abilities of his people. If he were in Yeosang's position he would have probably refused outright and called the Interpreter crazy.

"Alright, I guess that's part of your 'omen things'." Yeosang chuckled. "Will you come again if I need more guidance?"

"Probably." Wooyoung nodded. At least he hoped so, since he still had no idea of how to fully control his abilities and the necklace. "Sweet dreams Yeosang." He smiled at Yeosang, and when he opened his eyes again, he was awake.

Yeosang regretted it immediately when his eyes fluttered open, as the dream he had just had was reduced to only a few figments. Two things remained in his mind though, Jung Wooyoung and The Crescent. He had never before had such a vivid dream in his life, and he regretted not being able to remember it more clearly, especially because Wooyoung had felt so real he wanted to believe it hadn't been entirely a dream.

He let out a deep sigh and looked around. The bridge he had been living under ever since running away from his house was usually void of other 'residents'. It was easier if you didn't have to fight for space with other homeless people, but when there wasn't a community with a sense of loyalty to watch out for your back, it put you in pretty dangerous situations.

The good thing was that Yeosang wasn't stupid. He lived day by day, watchful eyes paying attention to the movements in the street so he could choose a new target to steal from that day. He was good at this, and the fact that soldiers assigned to his planet barely cared about it was a huge benefit. He spent part of his fortune on food and water for the day and hid the rest to save until he was able to buy himself a passage off that damned planet and go find his father.

He remembered the last fight with his mother clear as day. She had never been quite the same after discovering his father was an asshole cheater and had turned to vices to try and heal her broken heart. Yeosang loved her dearly, and had tried his best to remain by her side and help her get through it, but she was so angry at him everyday. The abuse had become too much and when she yelled at Yeosang to disappear, he left.

There was nothing in his possession worth taking with him, so he pushed a couple of clothes into his backpack and left after a particularly nasty fight that had ended with a cut on his cheek. Yeosang did regret leaving her a little, so he passed by his own house everyday, trying to see how she was doing. Her anger had seemed to dissipate now that there was no one to be angry at, but she cried almost every day and it shattered his heart to pieces.

Yeosang wanted to find his father and bring him back so maybe his mother could get some sort of closure and go on with her life. The planet they lived in, Tebos, didn't help much either. The resources in Tebos were scarce, and since it wasn't a main producer of the Kim Empire, it had been left almost forgotten. Yeosang had wanted to get out of there for the longest time, but now he wanted to even more.

Thanks to the poor support of the empire, the guards were underpaid and it was easier for him to steal his way out of the city. Of course, even though he was good at it, he wasn't the best. Some people in his town already had his eyes set on him, but Yeosang slipped out of their grasp every time. He just needed to hold on as long as he could until he was able to leave that place.

San looked at Hongjoong as he mumbled Thisa's poem to himself for the nth time. The two of them were alone in Hongjoong's quarters while Yunho took care of things outside, every once in a while someone would come in to check if they needed anything but would leave after only a couple of minutes after noticing Hongjoong hadn't even touched his food. San wondered if he should kill him now.

It would be so simple. Hongjoong wasn't paying attention to him and he knew no one would come check on them in a while. The question was, was it worth it? San wasn't particularly appreciative of his life, but he also didn't want to die for a cause he didn't believe in or care for. Still, if he didn't kill Hongjoong, he'd be killed by his own boss. This was a loss-loss situation.

Just as he was trying to make up his mind, the door opened with a quick motion and Jongho stepped inside, slightly panicked. Hongjoong raised his head, and as soon as he took in the other's expression, he stood up and left everything he was doing behind. San followed behind them, a little confused.

"What happened?" Hongjoong was quick to ask.

"The fuel tank is damaged and we're losing fuel very quickly." Jongho explained.

"San, check the coordinates to the nearest planet and send them to quarterdeck." Hongjoong was quick to order, his thoughts racing.

"Yes, sir." San went back to the table and got to work.

"Jongho, go back to the fuel tank and figure out if there's a way you can patch it up temporarily, you can take someone with you if you need assistance." Hongjoong instructed.

"Yessir!" Jongho exclaimed and left quickly, taking a couple other crew members he found on his way to the maintenance room.

Hongjoong rushed out of his quarters and to the deck, where Yunho was directing some other crew members on what to do. He didn't even stop to ask him about it and just made his way to the wheel, the coordinates for a planet named Tebos were already there, waiting for him. With quick precision, Hongjoong stirred the wheel and changed the direction of the ship. Tebos was almost in the complete opposite direction they were going in originally, but it was the closest planet to where they were, so a little sacrifice would have to be made.

"Someone contact Tebos and inform them we will be doing an emergency landing!" He yelled.

The crew mobilized immediately and Hongjoong centered himself on directing the ship. He needed to make sure that they made it to Tebos so they could get more fuel and continue with their journey. If they ran through the fuel, they could be rescued, but the ship would need to be towed and they would just lose too much time.

"Captain! We're approaching Tebos!" Siyeon informed him.

With the velocity they were going at, it wasn't long before they were right outside Tebos' atmosphere. The fuel levels were dangerously low, but Hongjoong didn't have much of an option as he had to slow down before they came in. He pressed a couple of buttons and activated the protection field which would keep the ship safe from the effects of breaking through the ozone layer of a planet.

A patrol ship that had received their emergency call was already waiting for them, and helped guide them to the nearest port. As soon as they had landed, Hongjoong told Yunho to check with the patrol guards and he ran to the maintenance room to look for Jongho and the crew members that had helped him deal with the leak temporarily. He found them easily, all of them sitting on the floor covered in oil and whatnot and looking completely defeated.

"Are you alright?" Hongjoong asked, paying no mind to the mess as he approached to check on them.

"Don't come close Captain, you'll get dirty." Jongho warned him, holding his hands up in an attempt to stop him.

"As if that matters," Hongjoong scoffed, taking Jongho's hand instead and helping him stand. "You all did an amazing job here, go get clean and changed, we're having a meeting on the main deck shortly." He ordered, yet his voice was gentle.

The crew members obeyed without making any comments and Hongjoong stayed back to inspect the mess for a moment. He wasn't an expert in ship mechanisms, but even he could tell it looked bad. As he walked back to the deck, he thought that maybe he should ask Jongho to teach him a little bit about it. He should, at the very least, know how to take care of his ship properly.

"What did the officers say?" Hongjoong asked Yunho once he was outside, standing next to him.

"Well, we explained the situation to them, and since our documentation is in order, they said it was fine." Yunho explained, pointing towards the patrol ship that was just leaving.

"That's good," Hongjoong nodded. "Do me a favor and get everyone here, I'll go change my clothes."

Yunho agreed and Hongjoong went back to his quarters. San was still there, looking at the poem that Hongjoong had left behind to deal with the emergency. He only looked up when Hongjoong cleared his throat.

"Oh, is everything alright Captain?" San asked, a little bit startled.

"You know, it's fine if you call me Hongjoong when there's no one else around, I feel like through all this map deciphering we've gotten close enough." Hongjoong shrugged.

"Ah..." San stared at him wide-eyed, at a loss of words. Great, this was exactly what he needed: to get all friendly with his target. "Okay..." Hongjoong looked at him expectantly and San cursed himself inside. "Hongjoong."

Hongjoong hummed happily and proceeded to walk towards the part of the quarters that was his room. It was separated by the rest by a wall, giving him some sense of privacy. Yunho and him slept together there, even though theoretically Yunho wasn't supposed to be there, but that was no one's business.

"I'm gonna get changed, you should go meet the others at the deck." Hongjoong hair popped out from behind the wall. "Unless you want to wait for me?" Hongjoong asked playfully, his hands already unbuttoning his shirt.

"I'm going!" San turned around without wasting a second and left the quarters.

San left the room and joined the others on deck. He threw his 'cool' image outside the window and messed up his hair until it was standing in all sorts of directions, muttering to himself at the same time. The other crew members who were already on deck looked at him strangely, but didn't ask. Everyone found San slightly intimidating, and while they didn't see him much because he was always helping the captain, the fact that they didn't know him did the opposite of helping.

"Is everything alright?" Yunho asked him, eyebrows raised as he observed San try to fix his hair again.

"Yes, everything is fine." San regretted only slightly the way his voice sounded a little too sharp.

"Did something happen with Hongjoong?" Yunho insisted, and he knew he was right when San's voice rose one octave and he tried to deny everything.

"No!" San almost yelled, but he quickly composed himself and cleared his throat. "No, nothing happened with Captain Hongjoong." Unconsciously, he accentuated the word captain, feeling better after putting some imaginary distance between him and Hongjoong. "He'll be here shortly."

Said and done, Hongjoong joined them after a couple of minutes, changed into a clean set of clothes. He greeted everyone with a smile and began explaining the situation to those who hadn't heard during the ruckus and had simply followed orders. He then let Jongho detail the status of the ship.

"It's not too bad that I can't fix it, we won't need to buy a new fuel tank." Jongho concluded.

"That does take some weight off of out shoulders." Hongjoong smiled. "The next pressing issue is that we need to get more fuel..."

"That might be a problem." Siyeon spoke, gathering everyone's attention. "Tebos is a very poor planet, it might be expensive to find fuel. We could potentially refill the tank enough to get us to another planet and buy from there." She suggested. Hongjoong hummed and considered it for a few seconds.

"This sure looks like home, then." San muttered to himself, but Hongjoong heard him and looked at him for a moment before continuing with the discussion.

"Let's try to find us a good deal in fuel, if we can't do that then I'll ask San to find us the closest planet so we can calculate how much fuel we need to get there." Hongjoong concluded, and everyone else nodded. "I'll take Yunho and Siyeon with me to barter for the price, Second Mate?"

"Yes sir?" Hwanwoong asked, although it was more of a formal exchange, since he already knew what Hongjoong was going to say.

"You're in charge for the time being, make sure Jongho has everything he needs to fix the ship." Hongjoong ordered, briefly smiling at Jongho. "If something is missing, let us know and we'll buy it."

"Alright, sir." Hwanwoong nodded.

"Let's get to work then!" Hongjoong clapped his hands twice and the ship went back to life as everyone mobilized.

Yunho and Siyeon followed him off the ship and into the port, where they would try gathering information on where to get fuel first. Yunho immediately approached Hongjoong as they descended, grabbing his arm to pull him close and whisper to him. Siyeon, way too used to these displays of affection, just ignored them and walked a little bit ahead of them.

"What did you do to San?" Yunho asked. His face looked serious but his voice was playful, so Hongjoong knew there was nothing to worry about.

"I did nothing!" Hongjoong exclaimed, looking offended.

"He looked really...flustered, when he came out to deck." Yunho explained.

"Oh really?" Hongjoong smiled. "I told him to call me only by name when there's just the two of us, since we spend so much time together and sometimes I need a break from hearing the word Captain, you know?" Yunho hummed in understanding.

"Was that all you did to him or...?" Yunho pressed, still not satisfied with the answer.

"Okay, maybe I did offer him to wait for me while I changed clothes..." Hongjoong continued. Yunho opened his mouth in a fake gasp and Hongjoong punched him on the arm for it. "I was behind the wall! He couldn't even see anything." Hongjoong rolled his eyes.

"He's gonna report you for unwanted sexual advances." Yunho joked.

"Oh shut up! Don't even joke about that." Hongjoong groaned, shoving Yunho away.

"I'm sorry, it was in bad taste." He smiled sheepishly and put his arm around Hongjoong's shoulders. "Won't do it again." He kissed Hongjoong's temple and Hongjoong pushed him away softly.

"Alright, alright, but we're in public Mr. First Mate, let's keep things professional." Hongjoong warned him. Yunho let go of him but not without scoffing.

"Professional, sure."

Yeosang had been wandering around town for the day, stealing petty things to trade with other homeless people or sell them for a few coins and get himself some breakfast or lunch. He was just biding his time. He had overheard some guards talking about the cargo ships that were coming in that day and he had already planned out what he would do to ensure he could get a good bounty.

If he did well enough, he might be able to buy the cheapest ticket out of this planet and make his way elsewhere, look for better opportunities. If he did complete his goal, he would need to go back home to get all his documentation. He didn't really want to see his mother again, afraid that even glancing at her would make him want to not leave Tebos, but he knew it was a trial he would need to overcome by himself.

As he went around the main plaza, he glanced at the clock and noticed it was time for him to start moving towards the port. He was a little bit nervous, as this was the biggest robbery he had attempted so far, but he had studied the place carefully to ensure there would be no mistakes. Plus, he had invited some others to his little heist. At best, they would all get a good bounty and go on with their lives; at worst, Yeosang could use the distraction and escape to safety.

He knew it was cruel to think of the others as a distraction, but it was something they all knew would happen if it came down to it. It was, as some would say, survival of the fittest, and they would all willingly drop each other if it meant getting out unscathed. Yeosang tried not to think too much about how that mentality was wrong, because if he did, he would be easily left behind by the others.

The path he followed towards the port was dark and small. His town was full of tall, crooked buildings that extended towards the sky and were too close together, making perfect alleyways to escape from the soldiers or to lure inexperienced people. He had spent his childhood memorizing them, and now they had become his temporary home.

As he walked, others joined him on his way to the port, taking slightly different routes to make it less suspicious. When they finally arrived, there were several cargo ships lined across the port. The guards supposed to be taking care of the security were scattered around, lingering with no real intention of doing much. One or two ships had their own security, but they seemed from one of those cheap private agencies.

While they scanned the ships and planned how to divide them and what they would do, Yeosang's eyes fell upon a different, smaller ship that seemed out of place among the cargo ships. Something about it felt familiar to him, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. The ship was gorgeous, and it also looked quite expensive, so he felt the need to check it out.

"I'll take that small ship over there," he informed the others, who looked at him like he was crazy.

"That's not a cargo ship." One commented, feeling the need to state the obvious.

"I know, I still want to check it out." Yeosang insisted.

"That is not what we agreed on, you're alone on this one." Another person commented, and Yeosang shrugged.

"I don't mind that." For some reason, he didn't want to bring them with him. It felt like that ship was only meant for him, and he felt okay not getting their help. "Let's go."

"You look upset." Yunho told Hongjoong as they waited for Siyeon to come back. She was the best at bartering from the three of them, and she insisted on doing it alone or they would slow her down.

"Yeah..." Hongjoong nodded, but was too lost in thought to reply.

"What is it? Maybe I can help." Yunho insisted softly.

"I'm just thinking about what San said, that this place was much like home." Hongjoon explained, letting out a long sigh.

"And it bothers you to think that he lived on a planet like this one." Yunho complemented.

"Just look at this place! This planet is part of the Kim Empire..." Hongjoong huffed. "I wasn't sure at first but I recognized the uniforms of the patrol soldiers, what is my father doing?" His voice was low but Yunho could tell he was in a bad mood.

“And what do you want to do?” Yunho asked.

“I don’t know, I’m not sure there is something I can actually do right now, since I am undercover.” Hongjoong sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. Yunho grabbed his hands tightly and pushed them down. “We don’t have money to help a whole planet, which shouldn’t even need help.”

“Alright, we can’t help them now, but as the Prince, what can you do to help them in the future?” Yunho continued, helping Hongjoong think things through.

“Remember them,” Hongjoong said with certainty. “I can remember them and take note of the things that need to be changed, and then present it to my father.” Yunho smiled and nodded.

“What a smart Prince.” Yunho squeezed his hands softly. Hongjoong smiled and took a deep breath.

“Thank you for helping ground me.” Hongjoong said.

“Anytime,” Yunho pressed a kiss to his forehead and let go of his hands.

Hongjoong took a few deep breaths and made a mental note of everything he had observed about Tebos so far. At that moment, Siyeon returned to them. Her face indicated that she didn’t bring the best of news, but they kept their hopes up.

“The least expensive place so far, but still pretty expensive.” She sighed. “Plus, I heard some bad news.” Hongjoong groaned.

“What is it now?” He asked.

“Now? Did something else happen?” Siyeon raised an eyebrow, but Yunho shook his head.

“I’ll fill you in later, what happened?” Yunho insisted, not wanting to stress Hongjoong out again.

“Apparently the amount of robberies has gone up recently, and some people heard rumors of a group stealing from cargo ships.” Siyeon explained. “And we’re surrounded by cargo ships today.” Hongjoong sighed.

“Let’s head back,” the Captain said. “Let’s make sure everything is in order and then we’ll deal with the fuel.”

—

Yeosang approached the beautiful dark vessel with white sails carefully. He was mesmerized by it. Something about it called to him, and it felt almost familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was. He paced around the ship for a moment, admiring it, before he focused on finding an entrance.

He recognized the ship model from a ship his father had worked in previously. Everything he knew about ships was thanks to his father, even if he somewhat hated to admit it. Still, he had to admit that his father had given him the dream of becoming the captain of a ship. This particular model was refined and less common, since it possessed very high specs and it wasn’t particularly cheap to produce.

Whoever owned this ship was a person of fortune and power, exactly what Yeosang was looking for. If he remembered correctly, there was a little entrance close to the propellers, made for ease of access when they needed maintenance in space. It wasn't a strong point of the vessel, since it was necessary to ensure that a person doing maintenance wouldn't be locked out, but it was also well hidden due to this. Yeosang passed his hands around the ship over and over until eventually he found the little latch and pulled on it.

"Got it," he grinned when he noticed it hadn't been locked from the inside and the door opened to the maintenance area of the ship.

Someone had probably left it open from a previous maintenance check and had forgotten to lock it. That was a beginners move. If things went well, maybe they could learn a lesson from their stuff being stolen by Yeosang; if not, well, Yeosang would have more important things to worry about than teach them a lesson.

He pressed his arms against the floor of the ship and pulled himself up, trying to keep his voice quiet as he struggled to lift his own weight. He hadn't been eating properly for days so it was difficult to make use of all his strength, but eventually he made it in. After some careful consideration, he decided to close the hatch and just hope it would be unlocked when he came back, since living it open could attract other burglars.

Slowly, he made his way around the maintenance area of the ship, paying special attention to any noises that could indicate someone else was there with him. It was a risky move, truly, since when else would be a better time to perform maintenance on a ship than when at port, but it was also his best shot. The ship was dead silent however, and as he gained confidence, he started moving quicker with his goal set on the captain's quarters.

"Stop right there." A cool voice said.

Yeosang turned around as his hand went towards his belt, where he kept a dagger he had been using during his life in the streets. His hand didn't make it that far, however, as he stopped as soon as he felt the tip of a sword pressing against his neck. In front of him stood a man, eyes dead cold and expression serious. His stance was flawless as he held the sword perfectly still against Yeosang, and he knew that this could only come from years of training. Whoever was on board this ship wasn't just any rich merchant if they could hire people with these skills.

His expression went blank, giving away nothing as he stared the man down with a similar glare, almost daring him to go further. Yeosang's hand inched little by little towards his knife. He knew he couldn't win against an electric chimera with a common dagger he had found among his dad's left behind belongings, but he wasn't going down without a fight either. Just as his fingers grazed the handle of his dagger, another voice spoke from behind him.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you." Said the voice, as the mouth of a gun pressed against his back. Yeosang sighed.

"Don't bring a knife to a gun fight, or so they say." Yeosang moved his hand away from the dagger and raised both of his arms, admitting defeat.

"Wise choice." The man in front of him said, but his sword pressed more against Yeosang's neck, prickling him sightly. Yeosang hissed.

"Don't do that San!" The man behind him sounded scandalized as he moved the gun away and forced Yeosang's arms behind his back, easily holding both wrists with one hand.

"Sorry, I am not kin to people stealing on my ship." The man named San said as he sheathed his sword.

Yeosang noticed they were putting nothing on his wrists, so he made an attempt to pull them away and run, but the grip only grew tighter, making him yelp. How could someone be so strong? He turned his head around as much as he could, trying to take a glance at the person holding him down, but all he got was an uncomfortably kind smile and a shrug. That made no sense.

"I wouldn't try that if I were you, I don't want to accidentally break your wrists." The man warned, looking only slightly apologetic.

"We should tie him up and take him to the main deck," San suggested, turning around. "I'll go look for something to tie him up with, keep an eye on him."

San left and the two of them stood in the middle of the little hallway in uncomfortable silence. This was, by far, the most humiliating thing Yeosang had gone through since he had started living on the streets, stealing to make his days. How could someone hold him down so easily with one hand? He knew he wasn't the strongest, and he certainly wasn't in the best shape due to his situation, but it still felt like a little too much.

"Who are you?" The man asked him. Yeosang could tell there was curiosity in his voice, but he remained silent. "I guess not telling me anything about you might be better for you..."

"How are you so strong?" Yeosang asked instead, exasperated because he couldn't move.

"I've been doing heavy work since I was young?" The man replied, but he didn't sound very certain.

They stayed in silence after that until San came back and changed places with the other man, who held him down while San tied up a complicated knot around Yeosang's wrists. He tugged at the knot but it didn't shift even slightly, which raised his suspicions that San had definitely been trained as something. Just who was the owner of this ship?

"Let's go Jongho, the Captain will want to see him once he gets back." San ordered, and the other man, Jongho, nodded and pushed Yeosang towards the main deck.

#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #8makes1teamnet #kpopscape #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fic #kpop fanfiction #crescent #bluenicorn writes

7 notes · View notes