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rhythmicmeow · 10 months

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TIMING: One of the Full Moons after Hunter's Moon LOCATION: The Commons into the Pines PARTIES: Leticia (@rhythmicmeow) and Gael (@lithium-argon-wo-l-f) SUMMARY: While taking Leticia on an outing to help her relax from the drama online, Gael loses track of the full moon. Neither is helped by the strange appearance of a Black Dog. CONTENT WARNINGS: Violence, teeth (falling out)

Gael had been right, as much as Leticia hated to admit it, getting out of the downtown area and not focusing so much on everything that was going down online did wonders for mood. Plus, she had only made it out this way a few times to talk to the art teachers on occasion and she had never had the chance to pop into the coffee shop. “You know, I heard that one of their drinks is so bad, it could kill you,” she said, sniffing her drink conspiratorially. Suggesting she might have ordered the special that everyone online had told her not to do. She hadn’t—she had simply gotten an iced caramel macchiato, but she had wished she had been more experimental and gone for the forbidden drink.

Walking next to him on the sidewalk toward the common, Leticia rotated her drink in her hand, distracting herself from what she ought to be saying. An apology of some kind, to his face. It was the least he deserved after dealing with her meltdown online the other night. “Gael, listen, the other night,” she started, worrying at her lip before pressing on. “I’m sorry. You were… not the person I was mad at. I shouldn’t have exploded on you like that.” _____ “Is that so?” Gael asked as he sipped on his double-blended vanilla frappe. Fortunately, Leticia had been receptive to the idea that the two of them could just… go out and get some fresh air together, regardless of romantic implication, which Gael internally admitted that he was perhaps too enthusiastic most of the time. Something about–

Okay, he wasn’t gonna think about it right now. He was determined to enjoy himself with Leticia, though his body hurt and he couldn’t shake the feeling that… okay, he wasn’t gonna worry about that either. Quit thinking in circles.Gael was pulled out of his unusually shaped thoughts when he heard his name. He glanced over at her, raising his eyebrows to let her know that he was giving her his attention (and thankfully so).

…She was apologizing? Gael admitted it took him a second to recall what she could’ve possibly wanted to apologize for but when she mentioned the other night he barely let her finish her sentence before he shook his head. “Don’t be, it’s okay.” He assured her lightly, taking another strawful of his thick drink. “Sometimes things can get high energy online and I know how much inanimate objects can mean to people.” He paused. “It’s good to see that you’re feeling better, though.” _____ “Mmhmm.” Leticia nodded her head. “I heard it was like… a punishment for bad customers. Just a rumor though, I can’t imagine any shop would have something like that tucked away on a secret menu. Makes for a good story at least.” Though, considering that Rick Astley had come alive in her store recently, maybe there was a hint of truth to it. The best terrifying tales had a little of that, didn’t they?

She gave him a look when he said don’t be, nothing angry, but on the edge of something. “If you really want me to feel better then you could just say you accept.” But there was no heat in her words, Leticia just wanted him to know that she was sorry, and she looked back on it and genuinely felt bad for yelling at him. She had no reason to direct all that feeling in his direction when he hadn’t even been involved in the initial incident. But Leticia couldn’t claim to be rational at all times.

Chuckling, Leticia looked at him more fully this time, “My friends don’t get it. At least the ones that were there,” she explained. “I’m not actually mad at them either.” Not even Emilio, if she were being honest. “But the cardboard will survive, despite the attempt on his life.” Refocusing on her drink, Leticia took a long sip. The temperature was quickly dropping as the sun started to set. “What about you? Have any embarrassing life drama going on so I don’t feel so bad about myself?” _____ Gael glanced up in brief thought. “I’m calling shenanigans.” He shook his head faintly. “That’s a terrible sales pitch but if it works for them, then more power.” The professor then raised his eyebrows when she stopped and gave him a look and he smiled good-naturedly, holding his other hand up as though to stave off her fury though he knew she was just poking fun. “Okay, okay, I accept your apology.” He paused. “Though you still don’t have to be.” He added under his breath. They continued walking and even though Gael was trying his hardest to push the thoughts of what happened the night before the last and that morning out of his head, if they were even his thoughts and not things that had been injected into him along with whatever knocked him on his ass, he felt something starting to wrestle inside him. He wasn’t sure if it was his conscience, trying to admit that he was guilty of a crime he wasn’t even sure he committed or if it was something else entirely. As Leticia talked, he willed himself to pay attention to her and a small smile crossed his angled jaw though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “At least the cardboard will survive. That’s the important part.” His breath caught in his throat and he hid it behind pretending to choke on his drink when she asked about him and Gael wondered why he was caught off-guard by the question; it wasn’t as though friends didn’t ask about each other but most of the time he figured he didn’t actually have anything pressing on his mind. He was… making a big deal out of nothing. He was being completely obtuse. “Nothing! No embarrassing life drama, anyway.” He lied lightly though as the initial one-word response came out, his brown eyes with their dark circles from last night and the night before cast themselves up and his brow furrowed with what could’ve been called anxiety - he’d completely lost track of what time it was and though he didn’t feel like it was a problem he needed to address usually, after the uncertain thoughts that twisted around in his mind, he wondered if he should’ve even gone outside that day after returning from Monty’s. He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t know if he could, not while he was so uncharacteristically unsure about what was going on. “What… time is it?” Gael asked, trying to keep his tone light and he managed to hide whatever he was feeling under the innocuous delivery of the question. _____ She shrugged her shoulders grinning at him over her drink. “I mean, weirder shit has happened in this town, can’t knock them for following the theme of strange.” Leticia felt some stiffness leave her shoulders when he accepted, only for her nose to wrinkle at the comment under his breath. She wasn’t supposed to hear it, she was sure, but she heard a lot of things that she shouldn’t. It wasn’t the response she had wanted, but… she couldn’t control other people. Couldn’t control everything. So, she shoved the comments down where she couldn’t reach them and focused on the horizon.

As they walked, it was hard not to notice how strange Gael was behaving. Something must have been on his mind to pull him so far away when he was always so present. Leticia watched him carefully, wondering what was going on behind his dark eyes. He bounced back into the conversation easily, and Leticia wondered if she was reading too much into things. Stress, maybe, was helping her project her own inner troubles onto him. (It wasn’t lost on her that she was once again taking an external problem that wasn’t hers and driving it inward.) “Even if he didn’t…” Leticia sighed, her expression still soft. “It is just cardboard.” It felt silly to care about something so deeply, but she did.

He choked and Leticia put a hand on his back, gently patting him, though her brows were arched considering the timing. “Nothing?” She questioned before letting out a short laugh. Not believing him in the slightest, but she didn’t push. Whatever he was going through, if he didn’t want to share. She understood. But he had dealt with her own drama without complaint, the least she could do was offer him an ear if he needed it. And silence, if that was the direction he wanted too. “Alright, alright,” she mused.

Pulling her phone out, she frowned slightly. Another full moon tonight. “Late enough the moon will be out any moment now,” she said, keeping her voice light. She might not have been a wolf herself, but she tended to be more cautious when the full moon was out. “Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?” She offered, nudging him with her elbow gently. _____

The moon? The words stung unpleasantly like the cool night air in Gael’s lungs and he inhaled deeply now that he’d recovered from his awkward choking on his vanilla frappe. He felt his pulse quicken and he was suddenly made more aware that he could hear his heart pounding in his chest, rattling his aching ribcage. It was fine. He traveled in his sleep. That’s all it was. Monty told him that he didn’t do anything wrong a couple of nights ago though for a moment, Gael’s vision lost its focus and he saw the blurred shadow, humanoid in shape. The nightmare, the memory he wasn’t sure was his though the morning after sure felt real as he swam through his soupy pseudo-consciousness. He hadn’t done anything wrong, unless he had. That was the thought that stuck around the most in his mind, even as he heard the explosions of the fireworks last night, loud to his sensitive ears. Blinking himself back to reality, Gael hadn’t realized until he glanced down that he’d squeezed the life out of his cup and that it exploded. The cracked plastic was on the ground, his hands and shirt covered in pleasant-smelling sweet drinks and he cleared his throat as he absently started to pick the newly-created trash off the ground with a laugh. “Oh my god, well NOW I’ve done something embarrassing to make you feel better about yourself.” He made the joke at his expense easily as he straightened up and was able to put the trash into a nearby trashcan as they walked. “I’m really sorry about that, I got… I was…” Gael was in the middle of trying to figure out what explanation or excuse he could come up with when his dark eyes seemed to find something just out of his view, something that he couldn’t see clearly even with his sharp vision and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. “Leticia, do you… feel like we’re being watched?�� _____

Leticia huffed a laugh and shook her head. As much as she wished that it had made her feel better about everything tangled in her own life. But reality was often different from what she wanted. Worry was the first reaction she had. Even when they were awkwardly navigating twenty questions at a karaoke bar, he had been present. The broken plastic and the splattered drink that had landed on him and on the ground—something was wrong. She just didn’t know what.

But Gael had said nothing exciting had been going on in his life. Clearly something had, but whatever it was, wasn’t a talking point for him. Maybe he just needed a distraction. Leticia could do that much. So, she pushed the practiced smile to her face and shook her head. “Nah, you’d have to drop it on someone else too, make a huge show of it. Maybe in front of some students next time so they can spread some weird rumors about your coffee habits,” she teased, trying to provide him an easy way out from whatever was on his mind.

Her hand was up, ready to tell him that he didn’t owe her an explanation. If he wanted to talk about it, she’d listen, but he didn’t owe her an explanation for the clouds in his mind. But before she could open her mouth, the next line came. “Being watched?” Leticia questioned. She hadn’t noticed anything, but she also hadn’t opened her mind to the balam tonight. Her control over her own emotions had been questionable at best for the past few weeks, and that usually went hand in hand with a volatile spirit.

She opened the door for the spirit, just enough for the balam to offer some of her power so that she could get a better view of the world around them. The shadows that were starting to darken the streets were suddenly as clear as they were in the day. The smell was what reached her first. Dog. Leticia glanced at Gael, about to ask him if he had a dog after all his talk about preferring cats, when she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

Stiffening, she took a step closer to Gael, her gaze snapping to a spot on the other side of the commons. Far enough that they could likely get away if they started running, but unnerving enough that Leticia was terrified to move. A large black dog sat at attention in what would have been a darkened corner if not for Leticia’s sight. “There,” she whispered to him. “It’s… it’s a dog.” People walked past it, not glancing at the dog. Not realizing the creature that sat just a few feet away from them. And the dog didn’t look at those who passed it either. It just stared. Directly at the two of them. _____ His body tensed; Gael had long since gotten used to the feeling of eyes on him but normally it didn’t set the adrenaline in his brain loose. He was already on edge, the inevitability of something coursing through his veins, the cold sweat that gripped him along with a pulse of unwanted aggression and energy, giving him the wrong impressions and misinterpreted words of others. On those evenings, without knowing why, he felt on edge as though he were about to be pushed into the abyss where he spent the nights. The smell of a dog. Leticia getting closer to him as he himself remained immobile, wondering what was happening and who was watching them. Then her voice in his sharp ears that almost made him want to jump out of his skin and his dark eyes drifted to where she motioned where they fell upon a hound. Or a wolf, he wasn’t sure which as it stood in the darkening path before them, some distance away. Gael wondered for the briefest of moments if he wouldn’t be reacting the way he would had it not been for the specific line of circumstances that led to the two of them standing there at that moment. Gael liked dogs, he wasn’t inherently afraid of them and yet as they stood there and the dog just stared at the two of them, he felt his heart-rate quicken, heard it pick up its pace. Without thinking, he took a deep breath that was sucked in through his mouth as though he’d just surfaced for air after being suffocated underwater. It was a dog, it was just a dog, until it wasn’t and Gael’s vision, through something he couldn’t understand, shifted the dog, cracking, snapping bones in his mind until it stood on two legs and took the form of the humanoid shadow, the one that invaded his mind the past 36 hours. He gulped, his breath growing shaky and shallow and he subconsciously placed his hand on Leticia’s arm. “It’s not a dog.” He whispered. “It’s standing like a man.” _____ Pulling back on her control, Leticia forced herself to look away from the dog and tried to tell herself that the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach was just the coffee she had too late at night. It was just a dog and it wasn’t like the creature could smell the jaguar from this distance, especially since she hadn’t transformed in days. The unease stayed while she tried to sort out her thoughts about what kind of creature stood at a distance like that in the shadows, going mostly unseen by the world around them?

And how exactly did Gael see it too? She had to relinquish some of her mind to make space for the balam’s senses, but Gael was still looking at it. Leticia stared now at the side of his face, wondering if he was like her, wondering if the smell of dog was alluding to a different side of Gael that she ought to have been worried about? Especially tonight. “Gael?” She whispered his name, her hand coming up to his when he took her arm. “What?” Here of all places? Whatever fear had been building up, she had to swallow it if he was right. A werewolf running through a central area like this was sure to stir a lot of noise—she’d just have to explain to her hunter friends why a jaguar was doing the same.

She gave way to the balam once more, small increments of her mind so that she could see the beast again, but it was sitting the same as it had been. It’s eyes locked on them like a warning. “No, it’s not,” she said, trying to ease his worries. “It’s just sitting there. It’s not doing anything.” Which was part of what made it so unnerving. The sitting. The staring. It finally stood, as if to defy her directly. But it was still on all fours. Still looking. “We should go.” Leticia’s voice turned desperate, the dog took a step toward them, its head drifting to one side as it continued to watch. “Now, Gael.” _____ She said it was just sitting there but it wasn’t, it couldn’t have been. Gael shook his head erratically and when it took a step towards them and he heard Leticia’s voice urging him in his head, something allowed his legs to unlock and after stumbling backwards, falling onto the sidewalk and scooting back even though the shadowy figure wasn’t approaching them at nearly the speed that his brain was telling him to, he scrabbled to his feet and it took everything in his power to keep from turning on his heel and bolting, leaving Leticia completely behind. Even though he was terrified of something he didn’t know, multiple things even, he didn’t want to leave her. But at the same time, the fear that surged through Gael’s body, his fight or flight responses, knocked that same part of the brain damage that put things that didn’t exist into his head and he doubled over briefly as he felt his arms blanketed in the familiar, yet alien sensation of being covered in hair. His fingers cracked as they twisted and extended and, holding his pained arms to his stomach as though that would sufficiently hide them, he looked around wildly as his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. “Shit… I need to leave town.” Gael swallowed thickly, virtually feeling everything coming crashing down on him as he cast a quick glance to the moon that was now poking out from behind the buildings. He wanted to protect Leticia, he wanted to run from the spectral dog-turned-man, he needed to get off the streets but he was disoriented. Too many variables. “Don’t follow me.” He turned and gave Leticia a look, one that implied fear and sorrow and he turned to bolt into a nearby alley, one with lights that had long since stopped working. He completely lost track of time, he shouldn’t have been there, SHE shouldn’t have been there. _____ The shift was as rapid as it was sudden, even for Leticia. Gael needed to leave town, as he said, and the scent of dog in the air… wasn’t from the one across the commons, was it? She looked at him, frozen in place as she started to piece together what was happening. The full moon that was starting to rise, the black dog that bid them bad luck. If he knew he shouldn’t have been in town, why had he come out with her?

Guilt and confusion mixed, wondering if he had only done this because he wanted her to feel better and thought they’d wrap up their ‘friend date’ early enough he’d have time to do whatever he needed to do when he shifted. Leticia’s mouth dropped open as he told her not to follow him. Another time, another day, there could have been a joke there about her asking about what kind of rocks she could lick versus what sort of flowers she might eat—she wasn’t a good listener when it came to things about her own well being.

And she was especially bad at it when she was worried about a friend.

A blink and he was gone, but still close. She could still smell him. Leticia took one last look around the commons, her eyes finding the dog once more before she backed up. Whatever that damned creature was, it wasn’t moving any closer. Cursing under her breath, she turned on her heel and ran after Gael, her drink in the trash and her mind only focused on him. He did need to leave down, she just wasn’t so sure he could manage it on his own. Mossthorn forest was nearby and so were the Pines, it was just about keeping him in the right direction.

“You’re not dealing with this shit alone, okay?” Leticia shouted at him as she caught up. She had no idea how much time he had before he lost himself, but he wasn’t going to be alone for it. “Can you make it north? To the Pines?” _____ One thing at a time. Now in the safety of the darkening alley and losing light much faster than he’d have liked, Gael struggled to get his breathing under control as he still kept his disfigured arms tucked close to his abdomen. Normally, when he felt all this energy pulsing through him, he went out for a run which turned into attacking trees until he lost consciousness, sleepwalking through the rest of the night until he inevitably woke up wherever his sleepwalking took him, with the remnants of a dead animal nearby. This time he wasn’t where he needed to be, though and this was the first time since his brain wiring got messed up by that animal attack that Gael was afraid, confronted with this churning sensation in his stomach that something terrible had happened the last time. The way Monty looked at him, the way he said that it wasn’t his fault. How all that day he couldn’t keep anything down, which was also a new concept to him. The stench of blood permeating his senses as he periodically swam through his blurred mind. This WAS all his fault; he went with Leticia despite what happened, pretending like he was allowed to go and enjoy an evening like this out when he could feel something simmering just under his skin. The alley Gael had chosen didn’t seem to have an exit, instead a little pocket for dumpsters and he was glancing up at the wall, his head feeling light as he tried not to hyperventilate when he heard Leticia’s voice behind him. The same spike of fear stabbed at him as he turned his head to regard her with wide eyes. And at first, he didn’t see her, instead seeing the same shadow from the nightmare, a black, blurry outline like something out of focus that whistled like two birds penetrating his skin. He tensed, considering yelling back at the shadow before he shook his head and it was gone, replaced by the woman’s shaded outline. “The Pines?” He repeated stupidly in an exhale, reining his panic in and Gael did what he did best - focus on who he was with. She was close enough again that even at their distance, her scent of flowers, lilac and something he couldn't’ recognize but still focused on. She didn’t leave him even though he told her not to follow and he couldn’t presume to understand why, especially when it was his fault that she was in this mess to begin with but his mind couldn’t control what she’d already seen - he would need to address this later. For now Gael breathed heavily through his mouth and, perhaps despite knowing better, he staggered towards Leticia, keeping his brown eyes on her with the most earnest, pleading expression he could muster on his face. “Can you… point me in that direction?” He asked quietly but urgently, wanting to add that he killed animals and that he didn’t want to hurt her - he’d never forgive himself if he found out he had - but the question he asked had enough trouble coming as it was. Maybe she was like him and Alan, another sleepwalker. Maybe she was more like Ren, someone who could take care of herself despite what Gael would want to do while he was unconscious. Either way, he could only trust that she knew what she was doing and hope that when he would send her a message as soon as he could profusely apologizing that she would respond with anger and rejection instead of not at all. _____ Leticia grabbed Gael’s arm, leaning out of the alley to see how many people were walking past—and how close the others were that were approaching. The dog was still there, standing in the shadows of the building on the other side of the common. The creature’s ears were standing up, and Leticia couldn’t help but wonder if it was trying to listen to their conversation. Was the beast interested in what was happening, or hoping to hear them fail?

His arm felt different. She looked back at him, wishing that her dark eyes didn’t reveal every worry that was left unsaid. It was horrifying to watch, not because he looked like a monster, but because she was watching it happen so slowly—or maybe quickly—it was hard to tell. His expressions were different now, his face and his eyes, she was watching him lose himself in slow motion. Was it rude to watch? Or was it worse to look away? Leticia had never seen this up close before, and watching it felt wrong.

This wasn’t like the balam, he wasn’t surrendering himself to a higher being, he didn’t hold this creature’s soul within his own body, the thing he was becoming wasn’t going to protect him. It wasn’t kind or gentle, it was… Leticia swallowed the word, refusing to place that term on Gael. If there could be good hunters out there, good rangers even, then there was hope for people like them. Stepping closer to him, she placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Keep breathing like that, okay?”

He was like her in many ways. It was a shame she only realized it now, looking at him as the stars started to decorate the sky. He cared deeply for the people around him, and he would never forgive himself if he hurt anyone. Intentionally or not. And she was willing to bet he would have felt the same way she had, holding that stake in the alley—a life was a life. Evil or not, life had… weight. If Leticia could protect him, she would.

Pointing to the path on the Northern side of the commons, they had to cross some very public area, but this was Wicked’s Rest. Anything could be written off as a prank or someone cosplaying. People were eager to dismiss the supernatural, they could use that to their advantage. “We’re going to run,” she whispered to him, trying to keep her tone calm to keep him calm. “You first.” Leticia pulled her hands away and moved to stand behind him, stretching for a moment, readying herself. Gael might have needed her to lead him, but that beast that was threatening to release itself?

It’d be easier to bring it to heel if she was chasing him instead. _____ He was expecting her to recoil from him and he absolutely wouldn’t have blamed her - he kept trying to put himself into her position, what he would do if she was the one struggling with the pain that pulsed through him, the discomfort of his nails digging into his shirt and starting to rip at the material, the soft whimpers that escaped from him every few deep breaths he tried to keep steady. Would Gael have run? Was it even possible to know what he would’ve done?

It wasn’t about what he would’ve done, though. It was about what she was doing right there, right now. Gael felt her hand around his arm and he looked into her eyes for a moment. He was having trouble reading the expression on her face as his vision was starting to swim with tears, though he couldn’t explain what they were from. She didn’t run. She didn’t even seem to flinch, instead taking a step closer, putting a hand on his shoulder in a supportive, comforting gesture that he couldn’t understand as he felt little pieces of his consciousness fade away little by little, threatening to put him to sleep for the night.

Her voice instructed him to keep breathing so he did, sucking inhales through gritted teeth and flared nostrils, exhaling with the strain of pressure on his lungs and he reciprocated with a small, erratic nod to show that he understood what she said. Then she pointed and Gael craned his neck as though he couldn’t see her clearly, his eyes looking past her at the general area where she pointed. It was on the far end of a large swathe of the Commons, which wouldn’t have been a problem if the professor didn’t see several people moving in his blurred, peripheral vision.

“We’re going to run.” Gael repeated, noting the calm in her voice and trying to replicate it though part of him wanted to cower in the shadows and just go to sleep there, not worrying about what would’ve happened once he did. Maybe he’d be apprehended and he’d wake up in a jail cell. Maybe he’d wake up in the hospital after attacking someone and they were much stronger than he was. Maybe he wouldn’t wake up at all. _____ No, staying in the alley wasn’t an option and as she took a step back, telling him to go first and he nodded in agreement - Gael didn’t know what happened once he lost consciousness but at the rate that he apparently proficiently killed animals in his sleep, the thought of what he could do to a human made him physically ill. Lowering his unusually hairy arms, feeling a more steady pulse of pain pulling at his limbs like he was going through a growth spurt, he straightened up for a brief moment before lowering his head. “We’re… going to run.” He repeated, emphasizing what she said and with that in mind, regardless of whether or not she was actually going to run with him or after him, he took off in a sprint as fast as his legs would carry him.

He held onto the belief that she meant what she said as he tore across the pavement, rushing past passers-by and innocents on the sidewalk, in his way. “MOVE!” Gael shouted, his voice coming out as much more of a bark than an actual word of command but it seemed to work; the singular word rang through the air and he didn’t have to worry about running into anyone from that point on.

The same couldn’t be said for himself, however, as a surge of pain through one of his legs seized it up and Gael lost his footing and tripped, crashing to the ground and rolling several feet. “I don’t… have TIME for this–” He growled as he pushed himself onto all fours and glancing up at… “Where is it?” He called to Leticia, dumbly looking for a reference point to where he was supposed to go. Was… Leticia even still behind him?

_____ Her father would have told her to leave this alone. Her mother would have been furious that she was putting herself into a situation where she had a clear and easy out—but she had always been one to ask for forgiveness instead of permission. But this… this is what Leticia needed that night in New York. She needed someone to pull her back from the stage and make sure that she was okay, and stop her from performing. And Gael… he had decided against any better judgment to go out with her on the same night as a full moon because she needed someone. He was an idiot for that, and she’d have a word with him about it later—but right now? He needed her.

And maybe, on some level, that was what she needed too. Gael started running and Leticia gave him a head start, not wanting to be right on him if he transformed. It’d be hard with that kind of proximity to give the balam the distance she’d need to attack. Her stomach turned, thinking about that she might have to fight Gael. And they’d be in forms that neither of them could control. Leticia brought a hand to her chest, watching as Gael ran, and gripped the cross she wore. It had been too long since she had prayed, and longer than that since she had been inside a church.

But if there was ever a time to pray, it was now.

She inhaled deeply and then sprinted after Gael. His posture changed further, the length of his limbs changed and everything looked wrong and broken. She wondered, briefly, what it was like. How much did it hurt? It had to, didn’t it? The twisting form that was taking over Gael wasn’t something that came naturally to humans. The transformation wasn’t a release—it wasn't freeing. But all of these were assumptions that she had from over the years, she had never been friends with a werewolf before, maybe it was different than she imagined.

She had been wrong about hunters. Maybe she was wrong about this too.

Too quickly was Gael screaming at the people around them and then… he was on all fours. Fuck. But he was still going in the right direction. Leticia closed her eyes and took a breath. Each time she let the balam take over, it felt stranger than the last. She had been fighting animals of all sorts of sizes—but each time came with the very real danger of hurting everyone around her. The balam, thus far, seemed to have the same mindset when it came to harm as Leticia did, but with this much excitement around them, could she count on that?

The plan she had in her mind was slowly unraveling as her doubt sunk in.

When Gael paused, the panic snapped to a different level. The words reached her—he was looking for directions. But the balam didn’t hesitate to take over in Leticia’s moment of weakness. She had made eye contact with Gael one last time before the jaguar took her place, her last human thoughts wondering if Gael had even seen her.

The jaguar took a few steps toward Gael, the only smell in the air that she could focus on was wolf. Lowing her body to the ground, she prepared to pounce. A rumbling started in the pit of her stomach and slowly grew louder. Her dark tail flicked from side to side, begging the other to run so that she could give chase.

_____ Still on his knees and trying to get to his feet though the pain that wracked them was growing unbearable, Gael didn’t hear any confirmation from Leticia. He could smell something though, even though the confusion, the trees, the edge of the forest he wasn’t aware he was just outside, the noise, his pain, his senses going wild as they seemed to become inflamed in his neurons.

It smelled like a cat.

Wondering how the hell he could recognize the scent and with his vision fading in and out, he turned uncertainly where he expected to see Leticia only… it wasn’t Leticia. Instead, he was confronted with a giant black cat that had its eyes on him in turn. Gael’s breathing accelerated, abandoning the deep, steady breaths he tried to keep with him as a fresh wave of fear throttled his windpipe, sending adrenaline through his body that was already wracked with tremors and the cracking of bones being misplaced.

He needed to run. Gael tried to move but he couldn’t and instead of launching himself from the ground and sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him, he instead stumbled forward again and fell onto his side, back legs pushing and stretching, scraping his body against the grassy terrain as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he lost consciousness. Bones continued to snap and rearrange, ripping the clothes from his frame like they were paper as he writhed on the ground, an eerie sound of combined human whimpering and doglike whining being wrenched from his altering throat. His face was pulled forward, his teeth falling out as they were replaced with a lengthened jaw with sharp canines. A tail lashed wildly like a worm on a hook before swaying behind him and an animal’s instinct jerked him onto all fours again, his back lurching with the final, snapping remnants of the full moon’s transformation.

Beetle-black claws pulled at the earth and the wolf drew himself to his full height, standing on his hind legs, breathing heavily and panting as bright amber eyes laid themselves on the cat. The stench of dog was potent. But the balam made no moves to leave the area. Her dark eyes traced the body of the shifting human, the process was a fascinating one that the jaguar hadn’t seen for herself. Remaining low to the ground, her tail twitched with each snapping bone, flicking to the beat, as if winding up for a full attack. She had been getting out more and more, and it had been exhilarating. Each time she came forward, there was another challenge. And this time had been no different. What stood before her now and what fell to their four limbs was a challenge that she had never witnessed in person.

_____

Darkness had covered the commons now, the lights that lined the streets and walkways started to light up in a pattern behind the jaguar. But she didn’t need the light to see the wolf that dared cross the line of her territory. The darkness had always been a friend, and as her brown eyes found the wolf’s, there was almost humor in the challenge that she presented. He could see her just as clearly, couldn’t he? But was he on the level that she was? Was he worthy of the scars she would leave on his body?

Either he’d earn the marks of a goddess, or he’d die by her claws. The end result hardly mattered. It was the middle that enticed her.

A low rumbling sounded from the balam’s gut, a warning sound that declared the battle she was about to begin. This place, this town, even these humans that existed within this territory were hers. They were disposable, but only at her convenience, not anyone else’s. Her mouth opened and from it came the sound, much louder now, warning away the other creatures in the area. In their tucked away location, they could be heard but not seen, and the screams of those who were close came and went as the people ran. Smart enough not to step in.

The jaguar pounced. Her claws extended as she leapt into the air, aiming to dig her claws into the wolf’s back. _____ The sound coming from the big cat was entirely unfamiliar to the wolf and he was conflicted - on the one hand, he had this fierce, pained desire to tear through anything and everything. This wasn’t like his normal awakenings where he was sore but found a meal to satiate him; he wanted to sink his teeth into the same flesh that he had previously.

On the other hand, this wasn’t that same type of flesh, he learned that quickly. Additionally, the wolf had no idea what this creature was but he could already tell that it wasn’t a wolf like him and that it was threatening him as it had the low growl rumbling from inside it. The wolf reciprocated with a snarl of his own and as the cat got lower to the ground, he seemed to raise himself higher on his hind legs. He could take it, he’d love to bury his teeth in its flesh, to taste its blood–

But the bravado seemed to fade when the other animal roared, the sound carrying and ringing in the wolf’s ears which instinctively pinned at the sound. Then without any warning the animal leapt at him. He dropped to all fours and hunched his back for a split second as though it was going to deter the cat but obviously that did nothing. Instead, he scrambled forward, attempting to go under it but even then he wasn’t fast enough and he felt a sharp pain, more terrible than anything he’d felt in a long time, puncture his back right where the mottled scar tissue stretched over his spine.

The sound that ruptured from him was high, loud, and a mixture of wolf and human as he screamed, throwing his head back and he became frenzied. Any animalistic reason was abandoned in favor of the incinerating pain that shot through him as the claws were embedded in his back but any other pain was superseded by the pulses that oozed out of his scar tissue. Thrashing, he yelped loudly and threw himself to the ground to scrape the cat off of him.

The second the claws were removed and the beast was off his back, the wolf turned and fled. He didn’t attempt to get a bite or a swipe in, he didn’t want to challenge the creature, he was pushed only by the burning on his back as he ran as fast as his lopsided limbs could carry him, wanting to create as much space between himself and the cat as possible while he whimpered freely, tail tucked between his legs and tongue lolling in the wind.

Tonight was going to be a bad night. _____ Thrown from what would have been her prey, the balam found her balance easily. Her paws dipped in the blood of the wolf. The damage she had inflicted pleased her, but it wasn't lethal. Just a warning - one that a child with any awareness of the space around them would have been able to avoid. The wolf let out a sound of pain that was like music. A choir that praised her skills, even if she had hardly used them. But it was fitting. The music, the howling, all if it, should have been saved, however. She wanted it to mean something when it happened again.

The creature had shifted in her territory. It threatened the lives of her humans. And it still had not paid for the slight she had convicted him of. The jaguar prepared herself for another attack, backing up slowly to give herself more space to get the running start she needed, when the wolf fled. Without hesitation, she gave chase. Running with ease through the forest that she had slowly become familiar with. Each time she was given the opportunity to spread her legs and run, this length of woods had always been her favorite. The sound of people that had no idea she was hiding in the brush? The unsuspecting birds that moved between the town and the forest with ease that carried fries in their own claws were her favorite.

Finding an easy pattern in the trees, the balam could still smell the wolf. But soon... it started to smell like wolf everywhere. It smelled like the hound from before with the fire in its belly, and wolves of a similar nature to the one she had wounded. The forest was very full tonight, and the jaguar had lost her latest pray. Shaking her head in anger, she took a few steps back and then turned towards the nearest scent. The wolf would have been a more impressive foe to beat. Even better if she could have killed it.

But something else would have to do. The jaguar slipped into the underbrush and began her hunt for a different kind of prey. Quietly hoping it would be the wolf she found and she'd have the satisfaction of a true battle, but anything would do.

#wickedswriting #char: gael #gael: fighting like cats and dogs

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lady-laree-world · 2 years

Note

Can you please write caregiver!hermione x little!reader? :)

You can decide about what (ofcourse fluff though) <3

A sweet surprise

Caregiver! Hermione Granger x little! Reader

summary: you decide to make a surprise to Hermione but not everything is fine.

Warnings: knives and a little blood, for the rest it is pure fluff :)

a/n: Hii, I wanted to apologize to you for making you wait really long but unfortunately as soon as I made the first post on my blog I was deleted the account and I could not recover it until a couple of days ago. I'm so sorry 😩😩

🌼This is my first fanfiction here, I hope you enjoy <333

🌼English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistake,if you find any please report them to me so that the. next time you can write it correctly 🙈🙈

Finally it's Sunday and you can relax with your girlfriend after long tiring days. You had been thinking for a while about how tired Hermione was and you wanted this day to be completely dedicated to her, as a thank you for all the times she had taken one of the little tees. Hermione had reiterated countless times that you didn't need to thank her but you were stubborn and wanted at all costs to make her have a special day. Your plan is a simple picnic by the lake, just the way she likes it. You had everything ready: sandwiches, drinks and snacks, all that was needed was fruit for the fruit salad.

Even though Hermione made you promise not to use knives when you were little, you decided to disobey: after all you don't feel too small and this is a special occasion. You take the knife from the kitchen drawer and start cutting the fruit into cubes, so concentrated that you don't notice Hermione's arrival. <What are you doing with that knife?> Your girlfriend's voice suddenly rings out in the room making you jump. The knife slips from your hand in fright as it slashes your palm.

Hermione approaches concerned but you step away from her as you regress into your smaller head space. <Sweetheart what's wrong?> She asks, frightened by your unusual behavior. <Mommy, I'm sorwy> you say crying as she gently strokes your head, drawing you into her embrace. <Honey don't worry, could you please explain what you were doing?>

Her voice rings softly in your ears but despite this due to the fear of reproaches she might say you can only whisper softly into her chest: <I-I was cutting some fruit>

Hermione keeps stroking your head trying to relax you <And why were you cutting some fruit?> You stiffen and squeeze your arms harder around her torso pressing your head into the hollow of her neck. <I wanted to-to suwprise you, I wanted to thank y-you for all the times you helped me> <Oh my sweet baby, I already said that you don't have to do anything for me, right? I support and help you because I love you and that will never change. How about if I finish cutting the fruit now and then explain to me what you had planned for today?> You nod quickly as you give her a loud kiss on her cheek and she takes you to the bathroom to mend your cut.

In the end, despite the unexpected event, you managed to give her a surprise that Hermione really appreciated.

#hermione x reader #hermione granger #hermione x y/n #hermione fanfiction #Caregiver!Hermione #Hermione x little!reader #Hermione x Little! y/n #caregiver! Hermione x you

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the-type-a · 1 year

Text

Get to know me!

Thanks for the tag @catastrophicmind and @duncans-unibrow !! 💜

I wasn’t expecting to answer all of these but tbh this makes it more fun lol

🖌 - Do you have/want any tattoos?

I have one tattoo on the right side of my waist. It’s of my zodiac sign in cursive writing and the symbol above it. I do want more though!

💚 - What’s your favourite colour?

Purple! 💜

🍕 - What’s the last thing you ate?

Pancakes, bacon, and eggs. It was at like 1am but I was literally starving so Marcus cooked it all.

🕰 - What time is it where you are rn?

1:21pm (coming back to update that it’s 2:02pm now and idk why it took me so long to finish this 💀)

🌟 - What is your zodiac sign?

I could tell you my whole chart, but I’ll just stick to my big three. I’m a Pisces sun, Virgo moon, and Leo rising!

🌍 - What is your favourite accent?

Honestly have no idea. I could say English because of Harry, Liam, Louis, and Zayn. I could say Irish because of Niall. Or I could say country because of Marcus. 😂

⚡️ - Do you have any scars?

Nope!

🌺 - What’s your MBTI type?

ESTJ ✨

🥀 - Favourite animated movie?

The Little Mermaid 🧜🏽‍♀️

📺 - Favourite show?

I have more than one: total drama, grey’s anatomy, friends, game of thrones, the umbrella academy, euphoria, that 70s show. There’s probably more that I’m blanking on right now too.

😂 - Are you ticklish?

Yes, and I will physically hurt you if you try to tickle me.

💍 - Do you ever want to get married?

Of course! Fun fact: I was supposed to get married in November of 2020 but then covid happened. NOW we’re trying to save up on our own because our families keep trying to take over. Still want a Fall wedding though 🫶🏼

😳 - Do you like your name?

I love it! When I was younger I hated it, I have no idea why.

💙 - What colour is your bedroom?

Cream, kinda boring lmao

🤓 - How did you get your name?

My mom loves reading the Bible, Saint books, and Angel books. She told me she always loved the archangel Gabriel, so there you have it! She also said she liked the nickname Gaby.

🎓 - When did/do you graduate?

Graduated college in 2020. Never had a graduation ceremony or anything. Thanks COVID.

🍄 - Do you have/want any piercings?

I’m Latina so you already know my ears have been pierced since I was 4 months old. Then when I was 17 I got my bellybutton pierced. Idk why but I did want to get my nips pierced lmao but not anymore. Sorry that might have been tmi.

👀 - What colour are your eyes?

Dark brown. They almost look black but in the sunlight you can see the brown come out.

👱🏻‍♀️ - What is your go to hairstyle?

Just straight down. I never really do anything with my hair unless I’m going out to a special occasion. My hair is also naturally straight so I’ll just wash it, brush it, and go.

🥂 - Have you ever drank underage?

Unfortunately I did succumb to peer pressure with this one. Although I did try (and throw it up) beer in high school, my freaking DAD gave me beer in my purple and yellow SIPPY-CUP when I was like five. Then you know, drinking in college. It was a “dry campus” even if you were 21+ and everyone hated that.

🍾 - Have you ever gotten drunk?

Again, unfortunately. I’ve only blacked out twice though.

😱 - What’s your biggest fear?

Don’t come for me… but I genuinely don’t have one. There are things I don’t necessarily like, but not to the point that I’m genuinely afraid and can’t function around it.

🥵 - Would you rather be too hot or too cold?

Too cold. I absolutely HATE being hot. It’s easier to warm up if I’m cold too.

🌦 - What’s your favourite weather?

Sunny with a light breeze. Nothing too hot and not cold enough to need a jacket. (I freaking hate jackets btw)

🍂 - What’s your favourite season?

Autumn!!! 🥰

🐷 - What’s your favourite animal?

Polar bears 🐻‍❄️

🐶 - Do you have any pets?

A dog and a cat! Ranger and Nala! 🐾

😴 - What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

Maybe like 2 days? Not entirely sure but it’s around that.

🎨 - Any hobbies?

The gym, reading, writing, music, art.

🛩 - If travelling was free, where’s the first place you’d go?

Bora Bora!

🎇 - What’s your most searched thing on Google?

I always delete my Google search because I hate how cluttered it looks, sooooo idk what to tell you lol

📱 - Favourite app on your phone?

Tumblr, my beloved 💜

🤠 - Are you more of a city person or a country person?

100% a city girl! Born and raised in it, and when I tried to give the country a try I got extremely depressed.

Tagging: @aprincessnotaqueen @art-by-mira @courtneyenthusiast @doitcody @elskamo @hollowboobtheory @marshunter06 @ragamuffin-bites @sentimentalslut @straighttxhell @sugarlesswriting @unawarer @withjust-a-bite @xwhatababex

#the-type-a #get to know me #tag game

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littleoases · 3 years

Note

Omg now I cannot stope thinking about jealous baker!! Can we please please get a jealous baker fic??? Only if you want to ofc ☺️

Okay fine, y'all got me - but please know that I literally wrote this just now, in one sitting, so it's not exactly polished.

Hannah’s not sure she would ever outright say it, but she definitely prefers Baker’s grad school friends to her college friends. There’s less sorority bullshit and more nerding out with other high achievers, and damn if Hannah doesn’t love to watch Baker be a nerd.

And yeah, veterinary school might be way more intense for her girlfriend than Hannah expected it to be—even if Baker did warn her—but Hannah will never get tired of watching Baker light up when she talks about the surgeries she’s been practicing in clinic. Plus, the vet school parties never disappoint. Baker’s cohort takes the “work hard, play hard” mantra very seriously.

Which is how Hannah finds herself wandering into McDougal’s on yet another Friday night. Plenty of the other partners and spouses come, and she’s actually gotten to be good friends with a few of them, so she feels at home in this space now. There’s a collective understanding the partners share about how annoying their vet nerds can be sometimes, especially when they devolve into shop talk in the middle of a game of Kings.

Tonight is an extra-special occasion because it’s the end of another semester—Baker’s hardest one yet—and Hannah’s had this party marked in her phone for weeks now. She knows from previous semester-end parties that these are the times when everyone shows up and lets loose, even some of the faculty. And it’s damn fun to watch Baker try to keep up with her mentors when Hannah knows she’s already had a couple of whiskeys.

“Hannah, wait up!” Stefanie, one of the other girlfriends, tugs on Hannah’s coat just as she’s about to slip into pub. “Figured you’d be here tonight.”

“I didn’t think we had a choice. Didn’t Bryan make you sign one of those blood oaths, too? Or was Baker pulling a fast one on me?”

“Definitely not just you,” Stefanie says. “How deep into things do you think they’ve gotten already?”

“I heard Paul ordered two rounds of Jager, like, an hour ago.”

“Disgusting.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, Stef.”

Inside, McDougal’s is rowdier than usual. The string lights are bright and the beer signs glow neon on the back wall. The outdated green carpet is littered with scattered popcorn, the McDougal appetizer of choice. Baker once drunkenly suggested they should pick up the pieces and take them home to Charlie for a bedtime treat.

It seems to be the usual crowd of suspects, but there are a few new faces, too. Hannah and Stef make their way toward the bar, eager to catch up to everyone else's level. It’s not until Hannah’s leaning over the counter with her credit card in hand that she notices a tall, bearded guy making eyes at her.

“Are you a vet student, too?” he asks without preamble.

Next to her, Stefanie snorts.

“I’m Tony,” the guy says, and he seems kind enough, so Hannah smiles blandly at him. “My sister just finished her second year in the program. I’m staying with her on a layover so she invited me to come tonight.” He pauses, looking suddenly nervous. “Can I buy you a drink? It might help me look like I fit in with this crowd.”

“Oh,” Hannah says, taken aback. It’s been a while since a guy blatantly flirted with her, and she feels like a deer caught in headlights. Stefanie is no help whatsoever, ducking away from the bar without trying to hide her laughter, and Hannah wants to shout after her that it’s never okay to leave a man behind.

“Er…thank you, but I’m good,” Hannah tells him.

“No, really, I’d love to,” the guy—Tony—insists. “I have to get up at four a.m. and I’m pretty sure my sister’s gonna keep me out all night, but I’ll feel better knowing I at least got to talk to a pretty girl.”

“I’m in a relationship,” Hannah blurts out.

Tony blinks a couple of times. “Well, he’s a very lucky guy.” He bites his lip, and Hannah can see how a straight girl might be into him. He has that endearing dork-who-grew-up-to-be-handsome quality about him. Too bad he’s barking up the wrong tree.

Hannah’s not sure what to say, so she turns back toward the bar and pleads for Cyrus the bartender’s attention.

“I didn’t get your name,” Tony says, and damn it, she’d hoped he’d taken the hint and left. She’s about to make something up—why does the name Mildred pop into her head?—when there’s a sudden pair of arms around her waist.

“Hi,” Baker says warmly, scooting around to block Tony from Hannah’s view. She full-on boxes him out with her ass and a swing of her long hair, and Hannah would probably laugh at the audacity of it if she wasn’t equal parts relieved and turned on right now.

Hannah melts into her arms. “Saved by the Bake,” she mutters into her ear.

Baker presses close and kisses Hannah’s temple. “Missed you. You look amazing.”

“Hey, uh—sorry—” It’s fucking Tony again, edging around Baker to look at them both. “Are you in the program, too? Are you guys friends?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” Baker says pointedly, pressing against the small of Hannah’s back.

“Oh,” Tony says stupidly. Then: “Oooh! Got it. So sorry, really sorry. That’s awesome. That’s—that’s really great. Love is love, man.”

“Mmhm,” Baker says, leveling him with a stare.

“Yeah, uh…” Tony claps his hands together. “I should go check in with my sister. Nice meeting you!”

He slinks away. Baker watches him leave like a cat stalking a sparrow.

“Hey, knight in shining armor, you okay there?” Hannah says. “You look ready to commit murder.”

“I’m considering it.”

Hannah bursts out laughing. “Easy, killer. I think he got the point. Besides, don’t you think you should be toasting him?”

Baker relaxes and brushes a stand of Hannah’s hair back. “Toasting him?”

“Yeah, you know, like some sort of Wow-we-both-have-great-taste club.”

Baker gives her a trademark eye roll. “Remind me why I was jealous just now?”

“Because I’m hot and funny.”

“Hm. One of those things is true.”

Hannah jabs at her waist, pretending to be insulted.

“You are pretty cute, though,” Baker says, smirking. “How about I buy you a drink?”

“You’re enjoying this a little too much,” Hannah tells her.

Baker laughs brightly - the same laugh that captured Hannah’s heart when they were teens. “I’m living for it.”

Hannah pulls her closer. They don’t often flirt this hardcore anymore—too much real-world stress getting in the way—so she’s going to milk it for all it’s worth. “Tell you what,” she whispers into Baker’s ear. “You can buy me a drink and take me home tonight.”

Baker throws her head back in laughter, but Hannah can see the slight redness coloring her cheeks. After all this time, it’s nice to know she can still make Baker blush like that.

“You have a deal,” Baker says, regaining her composure. She smacks her hand on the bar in a theatrical way, making Cyrus the bartender jump. “Cy,” she calls, “can I get a double old-fashioned for my girlfriend?”

It’s at that moment that Stefanie reappears. Hannah turns to her, ready to lay into her, but before she can even open her mouth, Stefanie holds up a hand.

“There’s nothing I could have done to stop that boy from going goo-goo-ga-ga over you,” she says easily. “Which is why I left to get the big guns.”

She jerks her thumb at Baker, who’s distracted with tipping Cyrus.

“The big guns?” Hannah repeats. “Y’all really oversell her.”

“Nope,” Stefanie says. “She had her eye on the situation before I even walked up. I said one word and she was out of there like a bat out of hell.”

“Are we talking about me?” Baker says, joining them with Hannah’s drink.

Hannah kisses her mouth in thanks. They’re not usually the type for outright PDA, but she can’t help herself after watching Baker go all take-no-prisoners for her. “Yes. Talking about how cute you get when you’re jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous.”

“You literally admitted a minute ago that you were jealous.”

“Meh. I was just being protective.”

Stefanie shakes her head. “You two enjoy your foreplay. I’m gonna get back to Bryan now.” She saunters off, and Hannah turns to get Baker’s full attention.

“For the record, I love when you’re jealous.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Baker says innocently, stealing a sip from Hannah’s drink. “Now come on. Paul bought us Jager shots.”

She takes Hannah’s hand and pulls her through the crowded pub, and when Tony happens to look in their direction, Hannah doesn’t miss the smirk Baker gives her.

***

additional HNITS one-shots here (scroll down)

#Her Name in the Sky #HNITS #HNITS one-shot

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justoneday-namjoonii · 2 years

Text

It burns, doesn’t it? [teaser] Jimin focus

Mafia!au: Mature, Fluff, Angst. Violence. Warning: graphic imagery, mature subject matter, improper drug usage, drug usage in general, suggestive language, crude/unnerving behavior, mentions of blood, toxic/abusive relationship themes, cheating is still a subject of debate, incarceration, semi-explicit sex scene that gets interrupted, this chapter will show a very toxic Jimin and Jungkook so please be warned

→ Pairing: Jungkook x reader x (?)

→Summary: The mafia tore your life apart, if it wasn’t for your will to live, it would have taken you out a long time ago. After everything, the betrayal and lies, you’ve survived somehow—you’re apart of a family now, but there’s no love here.

word count: 10k +

author’s note: hello hello!✨ I feel like I haven’t been active with my writing in a long time, I’m sorry I’ve been on hiatus with my stories. Honestly, it’s been so hard to get my head into my stories and finish them. Just recently, I was able to work on part 20 of IBDI and it actually got me excited to write again🥺 I do feel a bit rusty though😭 anyways, this is an excerpt from pt. 20 of Jimin’s troubled past, enjoy!

if you’d like to be on the tag list, please let me know! even if you’ve asked befor, you can ask again just in case I forgot to put you in the list💗💗💗

There are defining moments in the lives of each gang member. Everyone has a unique story that shaped them. Jimin’s story is not tragic like Jungkook’s or privileged like Namjoon’s, his life is more along the lines of a tale of the bad outweighing the good.

Before finding a permanent home with Namjoon, he had a home on the streets. His story began in grade school. He moved from his parent's home in the countryside to an all-boys school in the city. The same school Namjoon and Taehyung attended. He was 10. For a period in his life, he questioned his parent's love for him. Why send him to a city he knew nothing about with no family within reasonable travel distance? He concluded that they didn’t want him.

The last time he saw them was high school graduation. He arrived in the art teacher's car, no one ever knew why she took such a liking to him. He was sure no one saw the glances that were a little too long for the teacher to be on a student. Or the hugs that were a little too tight for a teacher and student. There were nights he would sneak out of the dorm to explore the city with a few bad friends. Those “friends” used him. They would make him do things that they couldn’t do without a pretty face like his. He’d crawl back into the dorm, drunk and sometimes bruised. He never said what he did those nights, but it was clear it took a toll on him at the tender age of 16.

Namjoon observed how people responded to Jimin. He did that to everyone, every person has a niche. Even strangers would stop to give him a second glance. Older women especially loved him, something about him made them feel alive. The boy was born to be admired. It was at that moment that he realized how special Jimin was.

“My little brothers, graduating!” Namjoon welcomed them into the limousine with a beaming grin, “and just one more to go, you’ll be joining them soon, Jungkook.” He rubs the youngest shoulder.

“Maybe,” Jungkook shrugs, “graduating isn’t that important to me-“

“You might as well finish,” Hoseok rolls a joint with skill and lights just as skillfully, “if this mafia gig doesn’t work you need something to fall back on,”

“He’s right, Kook,” The leader pops a bottle of champagne, giving the heavy drink his glass first, “make your mama proud one last time.”

It was one occasion where they all dressed up, ready to meet the dinner reservation, hit the clubs, and probably get wasted. Yoongi didn’t join but he sent gifts in the form of letters, Jin as well. Hoseok didn’t have much to do so he tagged along. At this point, his hair was long, to his shoulders, during his sleazy drug dealer phase.

Rose gives Taehyung a big hug but Geongmin is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m so proud of you guys,” Rose kisses her brother's cheek and gives Jimin a kind smile.

“No kiss for me?” Jimin pouts, leaning over to Rose.

“Just this one time, Jimin,” She humors him with a kiss on the cheek and he giggles, “happy?”

“Very,” He flutters his lashes.

That night, they partied like there was no tomorrow. Namjoon insisted they deserved it and should indulge in a good time. Jimin managed to slip away to the strip club, where he ran into an old friend—an old girlfriend.

“Oh my god,”

Her name was Petal, that what she went by on stage at least. Curly bleach blonde hair, a pretty mold under her eye, she looked like a doll. She was 6 years older than him and ruined their relationship fairly quickly, broke his heart and dared him to do anything about it.

“Jimin,” She scurries from the pole and over to him with a panic on her face, “what’re you doing here?”

“You look stunning,” He gives her a charming smile, “did you just start your shift? Your costume is still on, and there are no bills in your waistband,”

“You should go, please,” She adjust her fuzzy pink cowgirl hat, “I can’t talk,”

“Hey, get back on the stage, beautiful!” A drunk 40-something yells from the crowd.

“Where’s your husband? I thought you two bought a house and had a few babies, what’re you doing out here?”

“He left me, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear, now leave! I’m trying to work,”

She struts back on the stage, wishing she could hide from the piercing gaze that lingered on her.

“Wow,” Jimin shakes his head in disbelief, “so you cheated on him throughout your entire so-called engagement, lying straight to his face, claiming I forced you into fucking and getting me beaten unconscious, and he left you?”

She tries to ignore him and focus on the music, it’s painful enough to be found out, let alone have to continue working.

“Petal,” Jimin leans against the stage corner, she ignores him, “Youjin,” She shudders when he calls her real name, “your boss is watching, we both know you can’t keep a job so don’t mess this up by ignoring a paying customer.” He suddenly pulls out a hundred dollar bill, waving it around like a treat. She crawls over to the edge of the stage and he tucks the bill into her tops shoulder strap. “Good girl,”

This night, he got his revenge and she experienced a fraction of the humiliation she put him through. Jimin had a rough life. He was often placed as an after thought or a secondary option. His identity had been thrown into a blender his entire life, he was a different person for so many different people. His pain and vengeance manifested itself in self-destructive habits that slowly ate away at him. To be on the receiving end of his pain, like Youjin and so many others, was a punishment more damaging to the mind than the body. Was it his fault? Maybe.

His past weighs heavily on him.

#bts mafia series #bts mafia fic #bts mafia imagine #bts mafia au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jimin fluff #jimin angst #jimin smut #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fanfction #it burns doesn’t it

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faerykingdom · 1 year

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I posted 2,261 times in 2022

999 posts created (44%)

1,262 posts reblogged (56%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@magic-is-beauty

@angel-of-fallen-dreams

@fxlse-starboy

@clusterbuck

@swiftiediaz

I tagged 334 of my posts in 2022

#tw caps - 59 posts

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Longest Tag: 139 characters

#but he didn't want to believe it because he would have to choose between his father who he always wants to impress and his best friend/love

My Top Posts in 2022:

DAY THREE - L. EVANS & J. POTTER

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟐𝟒𝟔 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛, 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

It’s been almost three weeks since you went into the clinic. Ever since you went to go see Dr. Evans, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. Her and her bright red hair, her beautiful green eyes that gazed down at you when you were coming, and her lips that had crashed down on you with such ferocity that you felt like you couldn’t breath.

It’s been three weeks since the sensations she caused plagued your body. It’s been three weeks since you felt so much pleasure, you’ve tried to recreate it, (no matter how dirty you felt afterwards) but you haven’t been able to feel like that again.

Frankly, you’re terrified. You don’t think what happened that day was okay, but it never felt so good.. nothing had ever felt that good.

You’ve been in a slump, to say the least. And that’s how you found yourself here, in a club of all places.

You’re friend felt it necessary that you branch out of your comfort zone. Ever since you went to the gynecologist they had been pushing you to do different things, in their own words, “You’ve already had a doctor see your hoo-ha, might as well finally pop the cherry!”

The entire conversation was downright filthy. Your friend do not have a filter, and they used really weird vocabulary which made the entire conversation worse.

B/F/N had dressed you up in clothes that would make your mother faint, and your father to lock you in a tower. You were wearing a tight-skinned black dress that showed off your body, and your hair was made you into a beautiful hair-do that you only do on rare or special occasions.

The music was so loud that you felt your eardrums were going to pop. People kept bumping into you, and one woman even practically shoved you out of her way. The lights are off, and certain light bulbs throughout the club flash on and off to go with the beat of the music.

Everyone is either high, drunk, or both. You’re head feels like it’s going to explode and all you want to do is go home, and watching some crappy movies. But B/F/N had declared that you weren’t going home until you at least got drunk off your ass, or get laid, whichever came first.

Neither of which seem to be happening any time soon.

“Alright babe,” B/F/N says, tossing their arm over your shoulder, they already halfway to drunk as all hell, and gestures over towards a woman sitting at the bar, staring at B/F/N, “I’m gonna go and talk to the pretty lady over there.” They spin to you, putting their hands on your shoulders and staring down at you seriously, “Now remember,” they wave a finger at you, “no leaving until you’re either drunk as fuck or losing your virginity, got it?” You nod hesitantly, knowing as soon as they turn away, you’re leaving. “Good,” they nod firmly, “go have fun and live a little.” With that, they’re turning away from you and going to the woman.

You sigh. Might as well finish the drink they paid for, even though it tastes like pee. You grimace as the whisky (or was it vodka?) hits the back of your throat.

“That’s not exactly how you’re supposed to drink that, love.”

You jump, a squeak escaping you as turn to look at the person who spoke. Your eyes were wide as you took in the man leaning against the bar. His hazel eyes stare down at you with amusement and something else, something like what Dr. Evans looked at you with. His lips were pulled up in a smirk, and his tongue flicked out to touch his bottom lip. His beautiful black hair was in a curly mess atop his head.

He was gorgeous.

“Like what you see, love?”

You jump again, immediately looking away from him as heat rushed to your cheeks. You fiddled with with the glass cup, needing something to do to combat your embarrassment. You take a drink of your drink (seriously, is it vodka or whiskey?) to try and keep from looking at him. You could feel his stare, his gaze burning through you.

You felt …. excited? There were butterflies in your stomach, and you couldn’t help but look at him out of the corner of your eye. He held a glass of something, and would occasionally sip at it while looking at you.

You clear your throat, trying to gain confidence before you talked to him. After a couple seconds, and another sip of your drink, you look over at him, “Can I help you?” you ask, raising an eyebrow slightly in order to appear intimidating.

He chuckles, “No, just enjoying the view.”

“Oh, god.”

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201 notes - Posted October 4, 2022

WOULDN’T EVEN IF I COULD ━ J. FRASER

SYNOPSIS → in which it’s your wedding night

WORD COUNT → 721 words

WARNINGS → a bit of smut, but no actual smut marriage, and i think that’s it

AUTHORS NOTE → this was based off the gif below

It was your wedding night.

You were pacing the hotel room, your anxiety causing you to fiddle with your new wedding band.

You had left the after party about thirty minutes ago, bidding everyone a goodnight.

You knew that as soon as you left, the men had started to joke around, and thump your newly-made husband on the back.

Claire, your best friend, had tried her best to comfort you. She was the only one to loudly disagree. As soon as you were told that you would marry Jamie Fraser, she had argued. For the next couple days, she had been very forward with her view on the matter.

You, on the other hand, hadn’t said a word. You didn't talk, you kept silent. Murtagh, and Dougal had tried to talk to you. You ignored them.

The others had been silent. Jamie refused to even look at you.

Had you forced him into this?

Did he have no choice?

If he didn’t want,this, why did he do it?

Did he really volunteer, or did Murtagh just tell you that to ease you?

Why did he marry you?

Your frantic thinking was forced in the back of you mind when you heard the door open behind you.

You froze, your body tensing slightly.

“Lass?” Jamie asked, his voice so soft that you almost didn’t hear. “Are ye alright”

“Why?” you whispered, keeping your back to him.

“Why what?”

“Why did you marry me, Jamie?”

You heard him walk towards you, his steps slightly hesitant. “Why do ye ask?”

You turn around face him. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, trying to keep some form of comfort for yourself. “Why would you marry me, if you didn’t want to? Did Dougal force you? D-Did I force you?”

Jamie froze, he stared at you, his blue eyes widened in shock. You stared at each other, you with tears in your eyes, and him in shock.

After what felt like years, Jamie stalked towards, with his long strides, he was able to reach you. Slowly, he kneeled down on his knees, his eyes staring up at you.

“Aye, I didnae have much choice in the matter, but even if I had, I would still have married ye. Ye have my name, my clan, my family. And, if necessary, the protection of my body, as well.”

You could hear your heart pounding as you stared down at him. The sight of your husband on his knees - for you - sent flutters in your stomach.

He continued to stare up at you, as if waiting for you.

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216 notes - Posted January 17, 2022

THE PAIN OF LOST ━ A. BRIDGERTON

SYNOPSIS → in which you lose the most precious thing before you had him

WORD COUNT → 2944 words

WARNINGS → STILLBORN (please be careful reading as this is a major part of this story! please do not read if this could trigger you! be careful!!), cheating, depression

AUTHORS NOTE → there are 800 of you now!! i feel like i say this every time, but i can’t believe there are so many of you following me! i did accidentally delete the ask that went with this, sorry about that!

You couldn’t stop smiling. You were laying on your bed, fiddling with your fingers as you waited for your husband to come back from town. He had gone to the new bar that Mr. Mondrich had recently opened. You had waited until your husband had left to call for the doctor.

You had been feeling quite sick for the last few weeks, your mother-in-law, Violet Bridgerton, had been convinced that you needed to call for the doctor.

Now that you had, you couldn’t quite believe the news the man had given you. It was surprising to say the least. You hadn’t expected this so soon. Well, now that you think about it, your husband is a man of um, how do you say, determination.

The sound of the main door opening snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes immediately drawing to your bedroom, and waiting patiently for your husband to walk through. You only hope that he is not drunk. You do not think you can hold the news for an entire night. You really shouldn’t have let him go to a bar of all places.

Then again, how were you supposed to know that this is the kind of news you would get?

“What are you still doing awake, my love?” your husband said gently while undressing. He walked over to you pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “You should be sleeping.”

“I could not sleep until I told you something.”

Anthony looks down at you, concern clearly in his eyes. “What is it?”

“Nothing to worry about, my love. It is good news!” Anthony simply raises his eyes impatiently; he has never been one for patience. “I am with child, Anthony.” Anthony stares at you, eyes wide and mouth open. It would be quite comical if you weren’t vibrating with nerves. “Say something please,” you whisper, watching your husband with fear in your eyes.

You mess with the blanket that laid over you, nerves flittering around your stomach. Anthony had always said he wanted children, but if he did then why —

“Mmph!”

Anthony’s lips came crashing down on you, his lips pressed harshly against yours, and pulled in a wide smile. He crawls onto the bed, pulling you against him tightly. He pulls away from you, his lips still spread in a wide smile. He frames your cheeks with his hands, “Oh, my love,” he whispers.

“You’re happy?”

“Yes, of course, I am!” Anthony says, his voice quiet, so quiet you wouldn’t have heard him had you not been so close. “We are having a child.” Tears stream down your cheeks, chuckles leaving your lips, and your forehead falling against your husband’s.

You don’t know how long the two of you sat there, just holding each other; laughing, and crying. Joy – and possibly a little bit of fear on your part – filling the both of you until you could hardly handle the feeling.

“We’re having a baby,” you whisper.

THREE MONTHS LATER

You were sitting in the parlor. Your stomach was stretched with your growing baby. You were resting your hands atop your stomach, your fingers twisting and turning knitting your little one a beautiful blue blanket. The rest of the Bridgerton family was around you – except for Anthony, who was in his office looking over documents and payments -, talking and laughing.

Your sisters – Eloise, Hyacinth, Francesa, and Daphne – were all surrounding you. Daphne was holding her little girl, Amelia, in her arms, listening as her younger sister's chatter around you. Hyacinth is cuddled up to you, her arms reaching just a little above your waistline, barely able to stretch across your expanded stomach. Francesa sat across from you on the opposite couch, next to her mother. She was smiling, trying to goad you into making her the godmother of your little one (you most certainly were not drawing yourself into that discussion, there was much too much chances of the competitive sisters dissolving into an argument). Eloise held a book in her hand, Ms. Austen’s newly published book Mansfield Park; you could not tell whether she was listening to the conversations or if she was simply blocking it out.

“Francesa, darling,” you start, looking up from your knitting, and letting a small indulging smile cross your face, “as much as I love you, I will not indulge in this conversation. You and your sisters are much too competitive and I do not wish to start a little trifle.”

“Yes, dearest,” Violet says, placing her hand gently atop Francesa’s hand, “let’s not get into this now.”

“Yes,” Francesa says, eyeing you from the corner of her eye, a little smirk on her face, “we would not wish to discuss such important topics without my dear brother present.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, hush.”

“Y/N?” Hyacinth asks, looking up at you under her eyelashes.

“Yes, dear?”

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237 notes - Posted April 22, 2022

could you do poly marauders +lilly and marlene were they set out rules(?) for the reader please? if you don’t feel comfortable i’m sorry! thank you💞

BUTTERFLIES ━ L. EVANS, M. MCKINNON, R. LUPIN, S. BLACK, J. POTTER

SYNOPSIS → in which you like being their puppy

WORD COUNT → 857 words

WARNINGS → prequel to this, no smut in this, pet play

AUTHORS NOTE → i didn’t really know how to have them making the rules, so i just had them putting pet play into their relationship

This all started with a simple head pat.

You had been sitting in the library, reading one of your favorite books, The Secret Garden, when your recently made boyfriend – one of them at least –, James Potter, came stumbling beside you. He had placed his hand down on your head for a brief head pat. Your mind went blank, and your eyes widened as you stared at him. A flush of heat rush to your cheeks, and butterflies swarmed your belly.

James hadn’t really noticed, of course. Instead, rambling about his quidditch practice. When Sirius – your second boyfriend - had waltzed in after James, you forced the heat down and tried to act normal.

Days had passed by, and everything was fine. James and Sirius either hadn’t noticed or didn’t think anything of it since they didn’t say anything. So, you went on as if it hadn’t happened.

Over the next few weeks your boyfriend and girlfriends - Lily and Marlene -, continuously calling you ‘puppy’ and treating you like pet. Every time they did so, you felt weird. Like butterflies were constantly flying in your stomach. And, you enjoyed it. You enjoyed the pats, the nickname, and the treating as if you are an actual puppy.

It was a couple months later when Remus – third and final boyfriend – had innocently called you a nickname that caused you to react the same way, “Puppy, can you come here, please?” The two of you are sitting alone in the boys’ dorm. You are sitting on James’ bed, reading over your Potions assignment, hunched over the papers, and trying to figure out the correct answer to the question. Remus is sitting on his own bed, his back against the head board, his quill and text book abandoned beside him.

Your head pops up, and you stare at him with wide eyes. Heat courses up to your cheeks, your heart beat pounding in your ears, and your stomach swirling into knots. You continue to stare at him, arousal coursing through you.

Remus raises an eyebrow at you, and his fingers curl in the “come hither” motion. Slowly, you stand up and walk over to him. You stop right in front of him, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Remus tests his hands on your hips and tugs you into his lap.

You grunt, dropping down on him, heat once again rushing up to your cheeks. “Remus!” You yelp, throwing your arms around his neck.

Remus wraps on arm around your waist, and tugged your head down into the crook of his neck. He runs his fingers through your hair, pressing a simple kiss to your forehead. You were confused. It wasn’t the first time that Remus showed you affection, but this wasn’t usual. It was sudden. And confusing.

Very confusing.

“Puppy,” Remus says, you jerk your head up to look at him, the name causing more flutters in your belly. “Wanna tell me why you’ve been actin’ weird the last few weeks?”

You scrunch your nose at him, still feeling confused. “What d’ya mean?” you ask.

He quirks his eyebrow at you, his grip on your waist tightening. “Come now, don’t play dumb. I know that something’s happen to cause you to act differently. Talk to me.”

“I-“

“And don’t lie.”

You shove your face into his neck, embarrassment coursing through you. You felt ridiculous, your reactions to simple acts of affection embarrassed you. Your boyfriends were just showing adoration for you, and you were overreacting. Honestly, you don’t react this way when call you other person names or did anything affectionate.

Remus pinches your side, pulling you from your thoughts. “Come on, Puppy. Don’t make me punish you.”

“I,” you mumble, shoving your face depose in his neck, “Ilikeitwhenyoucallmepuppyanddtreatmelikeapet.”

Remus nudge you away from his neck, “Breathe, and try that again, please.”

You squirm, “I … like it when you call me puppy and treat me like a pet.”

“Told you!”

You jump, a shriek leaving your lips as your head jerks toward the doorway, seeing the rest of your significant others crowding the doorway. Marlene crawled onto the bed with you and practically yanks you into her arms. “You like being a puppy?” she asks, running her fingers through your hair. You nod, snuggling deeper into her embrace. “You owe me ten galleons, James!”

You scrunch your nose at her, “What could you possibly have a bet on?”

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286 notes - Posted June 22, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

FIRST TIME ━ L. EVANS

PART TWO

SYNOPSIS → you go to the gynecologist for the first time

WORD COUNT → 2353 words

PAIRING → lily evans/reader

WARNINGS→smut!, dubcon, innocent reader, dark fic, gynecologist!lily evans, sub!reader, oral sex, fingering, overstimulation

AUTHORS NOTE → so thank you for the 700 followers! that is so freaking exciting! thanks for putting up for my craziness! this is also my first really dark fic, so don’t like kill me or anything.

You sat in the waiting room, twisting your hands together anxiously. This would be the first time that you visited a gynecologist without your mother, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t scared. You had never come to these appointments by yourself. Your mother had always been there to hold your hand, and keep you from running out of the appointment. You couldn’t cancel this though, no matter how much you wanted to. You had found various reasons to cancel the last couple appointments. You were pretty sure that the receptionist held a grudge against you, not that you couldn’t blame her.

She looked very surprised when you actually walked into the office instead of calling her an hour before the appointment and said you couldn’t come. The only reason you hadn’t was because your best friend threatened to drag you in here by your ear if you didn’t actually see the doctor. You were very tempted to just say screw it, and cancel anyway, but your friend hadn’t left you by yourself at all today. Heck, she’s even waiting in the car for you.

“Ms. Y/L,” one of the nurses says, drawing your eyes up to her, “we’re ready for you.”

You exhaled a shaky breath and stood up on your quaking legs, your fingers still wringing together.

“I’ll be surprised if she didn’t run before she even got to the door,” the receptionist mutters snidely, clicking away at her keyboard noisily. You glanced at the woman, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. You looked down at your feet as you walked to the nurse holding the door open for you with a gentle smile.

“It’s alright, dear,” the nurse says soothingly, “no need to be scared. Dr. Evans is one of the best gynecologists in London.”

Okay, that made you feel slightly better. Not by much though.

You didn’t want to be here. You really just wanted to be home and wrap yourself up in your fluffy blanket and eat some ice cream. Maybe watch your favorite show, but you didn’t want to be here.

You shuffled behind the nurse, wrapping your arms around yourself acting like that is your armor. The nurse held open the door to an exam room, the smile still on her face. “Alright, dear, just get changed. Dr. Evans will be here shortly.”

You nodded, stepping into the room. Your heart lodged itself in your throat when you heard the door shut behind you. You looked down at the hospital gown that rested on the bed.

“Okay,” you whispered, “it’s fine. You’re fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Your shaking hand grabbed onto the gown, and changed as quickly as you could. The cold hit your barely covered body, causing your nipples to harden. You sat down on the edge of the bed stiffly, your back straight, legs crossed tightly, and your hands clenched into fists in your lap.

A sharp knock sounded against the door, your eyes snapping towards the door. “Come in,” you called stiffly, pinching your wrist sharply.

The door opened, and Dr. Evans walked in. The woman had long red hair, pulled back into a tight bun. She was dressed in a regular doctor's outfit, and a clipboard in her hands. She was looking down at the clipboard, a pencil tracing down the length of the paper clipped to it.

The woman looked up, and gently smiled at you. “Ms. Y/L, I see it’s your first time with us, correct?”

You clear your throat, eyes still down casted, “Uh, yes.”

“You’ve seen a gynecologist before, yes?”

“Yes, I used to go to my mothers before I moved to go to university.”

Dr. Evans smiled again, her smile held something that you couldn’t recognize, something that wasn’t there before, “Well, let’s go ahead and get started.”

“O-okay,” you stammer, fidgeting.

“Can you lay down for me?” Slowly, you scooted back and laid down, keep your legs firmly together, and fiddling with your fingers. Dr. Evans moved so she sat in the small chair in front of your legs. “Put your legs in the stirrups, please.”

You swallowed down a whimper, desperate to make it through this bloody appointment without freaking out. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice so quiet that you weren’t sure she heard you.

Slowly, you put your legs on the stirrup, keeping your eyes firmly above you, staring at the ceiling. The ceiling was plain, like most ceilings, you suppose. The room was plain, kind of reminding you of your room in your apartment before you had decorated it.

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1,236 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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novamirmirsblog · 3 years

Text

Favourite crime pt 2

Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word Count: 2936

Genre: angsty fluff? or fluffy angst 👀

Request: yes

Warnings: swearing, mentions of cheating, slight coercion into sex (it doesn't happen tho)

Part 1 is here

A/n: The long awaited part two is officially here. I had lots of people who wanted the reader to move on, people who wanted them to get back together and people who wanted both. Thank you everyone for your INDECISIVENESS (kidding. ily). Also Emma was a randomly generated name - I'm sorry :3

Did I write this fic instead of sleeping? Yes. I have no regrets.

It had been a year since you moved back home. The seasons had come and gone and with that, so had your thoughts of Natasha. The same could not be said for the assassin. She had spent a blissful 3 months with Bruce before he had dropped off the face of the Earth and she was missing you. By the 5th month, she had stopped moping about and tried to find you. She searched everywhere but your town was large and unfamiliar and you didn’t want to be found.

Natasha both regretted what she had said and didn't. She regretted it because she realised just how much she adored you once she saw all the areas Bruce fell short in. You knew her better than she sometimes knew herself. You knew when to back off and when to put pressure on. You knew when she needed control and when you needed to take control. You knew when she wanted ice cream or when she wanted brownies. Bruce didn't. However, a part of her didn't regret those nasty things she said because she really didn't deserve you. You were everything she wasn’t, and she didn't know how to measure up to you.

She never voiced these concerns and so they festered and grew until she believed the only way out was to cheat. She knew that was the only thing that could drive you away. Natasha had told you all about her past, how she believed the Red Room had stripped her of her humanity – of her choice whether to become a mother. She knew there were other ways to have children - of course there were, but she hated the fact they had taken that option from her.

You were not like Natasha. You voiced your concerns which is why she knew exactly what to say and do to get you to hate her. Your previous boyfriend had cheated on you with your once best friend. You had watched as your father cheated on your mother and how that made her a hollow shell for a while, her never understanding why the man she loved could hurt her in that way. Supposedly, everyone models their future relationships on what their parents’ relationship looked like. Perhaps that’s why you kept choosing the cheaters. You were content with where you were. You had a forest, a busy town, and a beach all within a 15-mile radius of your house. You were far enough from civilisation that you could forget about reality for a while but close enough to occasionally dip back in whenever you wanted to.

You had kept in contact with Tony and Pepper, congratulating them on the arrival of Morgan and insisting that they should visit. You also continued to occasionally talk to Wanda when Carol was off world. Carol was overjoyed when she found out you had started dating someone new.

You had met Emma when you were taking a dip back into reality at the local supermarket. Her blonde hair vaguely reminded you of a woman you used to know, and you guessed that’s why you felt drawn to her. It wasn’t the electrical crackle that stole your breath away like your first meeting with Natasha, but it was something. Emma could occasionally be a little controlling, but you guessed that’s what normal relationships were like. She didn’t like you going to bars or pubs anymore and you certainly weren’t allowed in any clubs. You didn’t mind it too much as you hardly minded giving up a few nights out if it meant you could have something that resembled normalcy.

“Who’s that?” Emma asked, your face illuminated from your phone as the ding rang out.

“A friend. He’s bringing his wife and new baby over tomorrow and was reminding me to baby-proof the house.” You smiled lightly as you texted Tony back. You hadn’t mentioned to Emma that you were an ex-avenger, but it just kept slipping your mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Who is he? Where will he be staying?”

“I just forgot. Sorry. He’ll be staying here.”

“But you only have a single bed.”

“Yeah. I was planning to sleep on that and Tony, Pepper and the baby can stay in my room.”

“You mean our room.”

You said nothing, too engrossed in arguing with Tony about how under no circumstances will there be any celery in your house. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to do.

“Our room, right Y/n?”

“Um yeah.” You wave her off was apparently your second mistake, but you didn’t multi-task too well and so half answers were all you were good for while texting.

“I have been your girlfriend for 3 months Y/n. The least you could do is answer me properly and tell me what’s going on in your life.” She huffed, pushing your feet from her lap, and turning to face away from you, all of which you missed. You really weren’t having that evil green vegetable in your house.

“Seriously, what is even so important that you’re ignoring me right now!” Emma’s voice cut through the fog, and you looked at her with a blank expression. It was times like these that you really missed Na- No. You refused to go there. You didn’t miss her. You were over her.

“No celery.”

Emma threw her hands up in the air. “You seriously don’t see what’s wrong, do you?”

“No.” You tilted your head, confused at what your girlfriend was talking about.

“Well, I’m not just going to tell you! Jesus. You should know. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Emma stood up in a huff, making a lot of noise while getting ready to leave.

“Okay – bye” Your attention was bought back to the phone when Tony sent you a cute video of Morgan crawling about, probably as a bribe to get you to buy celery. You stood, watching the video a few times before you shut off your phone, finally getting around to babyproofing your house.

~~~~~

Babyproofing a house was a lot more work than you originally thought. You had spent most the night picking sharp objects up from baby-height areas and making sure you hadn’t left any weapons about. All the guns taped under tables had to be relocated and you found enough change to set you up for retirement. You just hoped and prayed there were no small beads for Morgan to choke on. You didn’t even get around to putting soft corners on the edges of tables and counter tops, but you told yourself that it was survival of the fittest at that point. The whole endeavour had taken most the night which is how you found yourself with only an hour till Tony, Pepper and Morgan arrived.

There was a knock on the door, and you saw that you were 15 minutes late. Luckily your girlfriend had arrived half an hour before so you figured she could let them in. You shouted down, telling her to get the door as you finished putting on your socks.

“Hiya baby!” You cooed at Morgan babbling in Pepper’s arms, watching as her chubby hands reached for your hair, grabbing on with a crazy amount of strength. “Oh my god you’re strong. Pep, are you sure she’s Tony’s? I’m pretty sure she’s as strong as Thor.” You laughed, looking over at Tony. Your face dropped into careful neutrality as you saw the redhead standing behind him.

“Of course she’s mine doofus. We had multiple paternity tests.” Tony winked.

You didn’t know what to do. You weren’t ready. Your throat went dry as you asked if anyone wanted any drinks, your girlfriend waving them into the living room. You prepared the drinks, and you felt a presence behind you, wrapping their arms around your waist, their head resting on your back. You hated it. You felt suffocated. You took a breath and handed half the drinks to Emma, opting to grab a wine glass and fill it with the wine you had been saving for a special occasion. It might not have been a special occasion, but you needed something strong to get though the next few hours and you knew this would do the job.

You made your way back into the living room and Tony gestured to Emma “I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

“I’m Emma.”

“Tony. This is Pepper, Morgan and Natasha.” Your heart dropped at the mention of her name, realising that she wasn’t some cruel hallucination but was in fact standing in your living room.

“Sorry. I forgot to introduce you all.” You smiled and took another large swig from your glass.

“Hey how come you’re the only one with alcohol?”

“Because you’re a parent now.” You rolled your eyes at Tony, feeling Natasha stare holes into your face.

“So I need it even more!” Pepper hit Tony as he said that, causing Morgan to laugh.

“Don’t worry about Y/n getting drunk, she can handle her alcohol pretty well.”

“We know.” Natasha finally spoke. Her voice bought back floods of memories and you realised you missed her voice – just the tiniest amount. “Who exactly are you to Y/n?” To anyone else, the question was flippant, like asking about the weather but you, Tony and Pepper could all hear the carefully laced venom within her words and while the question sounded like it was aimed at your girlfriend, you could tell she was speaking to you.

“Where’s Bruce this fine day?” You shot back, not letting Emma speak.

“My question first.” Natasha finally turned her gaze to focus on you.

“Why are you here?” You felt Emma’s arm slither possessively around your waist. Perhaps if it had been another day, you would have appreciated it but right now, you felt like you were drowning. She held you too tight, you couldn’t move.

“Ah.” Natasha wore a smug look on her face and yet her eyes flashed with hurt. You hated that she had found out information you weren’t willing to give.

“Why are you here Agent Romanoff.” You wanted- no needed her to answer you. You needed to know why she came to you. Then you looked at Tony. “Why would you bring her here?” Your voice was level, Morgan was pulling at your leg to get you to pick her up. You used that as an excuse to escape your girlfriend’s grip.

“We need you back.”

“So you bring your baby to try and bribe me back?” You ran a hand through your hair, lightly bouncing Morgan. “That I can understand but why bring her?” You waved at Natasha, feeling both her and Emma’s eyes bore into you.

“She’s part of the team too and you both need to get on.” Pepper said.

“You were in on this too?” Your throat felt tight. You couldn’t breathe properly.

“I’m sorry but who exactly are you?” Emma asked. Natasha scoffed at her, folding her arms, and rolling her eyes.

Everything was a little too loud and muffled. It felt as if you were underwater. The sun was too bright, and it made everything a little too hard to look at. You could see your furniture, but it wouldn’t stay in your brain long enough for you to fully register it. You placed Morgan on the sofa and took a deep breath, closing your eyes to focus. When you opened them again you looked straight at Natasha.

“I am not going to play nice with you. You broke me and now that I’m moving on you suddenly decide to show up? No. I don’t believe it. Why can’t you just let me be happy? Leave me alone. Besides, I thought I was a ‘fun little distraction’.” You spat at Natasha. You were tired of being the bigger person. She had hurt you and you wanted to watch her bleed. It’s why you leant over and kissed Emma harshly, why you let out a slight moan so Natasha could hear. It didn’t matter that it was completely fake because even though you knew you should feel satisfaction at Natasha’s hurt face, the twinge of sadness upset you more than you would have liked.

Natasha knew the kiss was forced. She knew it was, but it didn’t stop the knife digging deeper into her heart. You had moved on and she had to respect that. She had said some awful things to you, and you really did deserve someone much better than her. You stormed out of the house, saying that you were going for a walk, leaving your girlfriend to entertain your guests.

~~~~~

It was dark by the time you got back. You saw Natasha on the sofa and ignored her as you walked straight to the guest bedroom. All you wanted to do was curl up and sleep this horrible day into the past but unfortunately for you, you had a girlfriend sitting on the bed.

“This bed isn’t big enough for-” Emma cut you off with a rough kiss. “Emma not now-”

“Yes now. I want to remind your ex what she’s missing.” Emma went back to kissing you and you wanted to cry. You didn’t like her possessiveness, didn’t like her jealousy. With Natasha that had been fun but with Emma, it made you feel afraid.

“Emma seriously.” You grabbed her wrist, not letting her reach into your underwear.

Emma huffed and stepped back. “What’s your problem?”

“I’m really tired. Can’t we just sleep?”

“It’s your ex, isn’t it? Why is she even here? I can’t believe you were going to just let her stay here and not tell me!”

“I didn’t know she was coming!” You were both stage whispering, conscious of the fact there was a baby that most likely didn’t sleep all that often.

“Then kick her out!”

You said nothing. You couldn’t just kick her out. That wouldn’t be fair.

“Oh my god you still love her. You still love her and she’s in love with someone else. Or she was. Ha.” Emma let out a bark of laughter. “That’s so fucking rich. You know what, crawl back to her but don’t come crying to me when she fucks you over again do you hear me?”

“Emma that’s not- I don’t love her anymore. I hate her. She ruined my life.”

“You truly hate her?” You nodded at her. “Supposedly, you can only truly hate someone if you loved them first. We’re done Y/n”

“Seriously?! What? Because I used to love Natasha? Because I don’t want to have sex with you? Grow up Emma. I’ve loved people before you and at this rate, I’ll love people after you too. I’m tired. I don’t have to have sex with you. You can’t make me.”

“I’m your girlfriend! You’re supposed to want to have sex with me!”

“Well not when I’ve had a long ass day!”

“Guys, I think you might wake Morgan.” You winced a little at the addition of Natasha. You knew this was going to end badly.

“This is my fucking house!” Emma said, not lowering her tone.

“Actually, it’s Y/n’s.” Natasha calmly stated. She really wasn’t going to rise to the bait.

Your girl- sorry- ex-girlfriend, fumed next to you. “You know what? Have her. She’s so screwed over from whatever you pulled that I don’t think she can love anyone ever again anyway.” Emma seethed, grabbing her shoes, and slamming the door on the way out. The sound of baby Morgan crying echoed through the house.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You ran your hand over your face, the exhaustion of the whole day catching up with you.

“No, it’s not. I betrayed your trust over the one thing I knew you couldn’t tolerate. I knew how hurtful cheating is to you and I did it anyway. I know it’s not an excuse, but I guess I just felt like you deserved someone more than me. Someone better.”

You said nothing. You were so so tired. You missed her and it ached, but you couldn’t forget what she had done. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

“I know but please let me try again. Bruce wasn’t worth it. He only made me realise how much I love you.” Tears were filling up Natasha’s beautiful eyes and you could see just how tired she looked.

“I missed you.” You whispered out, not wanting to break whatever was being formed

“I missed you too. So so much.”

“I can’t forgive you. Not yet, but…you can have one more chance Natasha. That’s it. You get one chance at my forgiveness.”

“Okay!” Natasha sniffled slightly “I promise I won’t mess this up.”

“I’m serious Natasha. One chance. I don’t play baseball. There are no three strikes.”

Natasha gingerly reached up to cup your face. “I won’t waste this.”

“Good because I never really stopped loving you and I’d hate to be a simp.”

“I think it’s a little too late for that dove.” Natasha let out a watery laugh.

“Excuse me?” You let out a fake gasp and wiped some of the tears from her cheeks.

“It’s okay, I’ll tell you a secret.” Natasha ushered you to lean closer and you did, she tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and whispered, “I’ve been whipped for you for as long as I can remember.”

You were looking forward to all the ways Natasha was going to make it up to you and hopefully, you’d get to give Bruce a good punch too. You both knew it was going to be a long road ahead but you both felt a little more ready for what lies next.

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x you #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #Tony stark #natasha mcu #mcu imagine #natasha imagine #natasha romanoff imagines #natalia alianovna romanova #pepper potts

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wheelsup · 3 years

Text

coffee is the sixth love language | part two

Summary: Over three cups of coffee, Spencer realized his feelings for you. And over three cups of coffee, he acts on them. gn!Reader.

A/N: the italicized this time indicates Spencer’s thoughts, not reader’s. part of this story is inspired directly from these comments made by @doctorthreephds on the reblog! thanks for letting me incorporate them :)

category: fluff, sfw

warnings: technically none, but the “profiling” part is kind of a reach.

word count: 3k

Once Spencer was firmly resolute on asking you out, he knew he wanted it to be special in a way that only the two of you could appreciate. He realized that he had yet to be the one bringing you coffee, and so it felt only right that it should be how he makes his first move. He woke up extra early on a weekday morning to stop by your favorite coffee shop on his way to work because he knew you loved their banana nut muffins and double-brewed coffee. It was an extra twenty-five minutes out of the way for work each way, so you only got to go there on the rare occasion that you had a day off and were not out of town on a case. It might have been ridiculous to drive fifty minutes for a single damn muffin, but Spencer wanted to make this perfect for you by any means necessary. This was one of the special times that Spencer drove his car, needing the extra speed in order to complete his mission.

He picked up your regular drink order and the muffin and was anxiously on his way back to Quantico. As per his plan he arrived at the office before you did, though not too much earlier because he wanted to make sure your coffee was still hot by the time you got it. If Spencer’s calculations were correct - which they almost always were - you would arrive within a two to four and a half minute window from when he did. Spencer took out a sharpie from his desk drawer and delicately scrawled a message onto the top corner of the pastry bag holding your muffin. He thought it felt like something out of a cheesy romance novel, the kind of novels that you could find in the fifty cent clearance bins, but dammit if Spencer didn’t deserve a little cheesy romance in his life. The other benefit of this was that he thought he would almost certainly choke on his words if he had to ask you himself. He set the two items on your desk and returned to his own to sit and observe. Spencer hoped it would be the first of many coffees he could buy you.

It wasn’t until you had already walked into the bullpen and were halfway to your desk that Spencer realized he had forgotten to sign his name to the bag. How were you supposed to react to him asking you out if you didn’t actually know it was him? And oh God, he left unsealed food on the desk of an FBI agent, with no indication of who had put it there. That is infinitely more suspicious than it is romantic. He wouldn’t be surprised if she took it straight to the trash can. So long for cheesy romance, Dr. Reid.

But Spencer was absolutely elated when your first reaction was to peek into the bag and gasp out of joy at what was inside. He watched you break off a piece of your beloved banana nut muffin and chew it gleefully, and all he could think of was how cute you looked when you were happy. Shortly followed by concern that a federal agent would so readily eat unmarked food that could have been tampered with. That’s something I should bring up to her on the date.

Spencer’s stomach was in knots not knowing if you would pick up on the message. You swallowed that chunk of the muffin and turned the bag over to find an almost illegible black script that you had nearly missed: Would you like to have coffee with me? It just felt like all of the air had been knocked out of your body.

It didn’t even take you half a second to know who this was from; there were so many tells it was Spencer. Before you even noticed the note, you knew it was from him when you saw what was inside the bag. The whole team knew what your favorite coffee shop was because you had talked about it enough times. Hell, you even owned a oversized tee with their name on it that you kept in your go bag as a sleep shirt. But nobody knew what your favorite muffin was because you never mentioned it. In fact, if you thought about it there were maybe only a handful of times over the six months you’d been at the BAU that you even elected to eat this pastry in lieu of a real breakfast. But if anyone was going to detect a pattern, it would have been Dr. Reid. Of course he would pick up on the fact that you only picked those out at cafes when you felt like having a sweet treat, or that when Penelope brought in baked goods for the office you would only indulge if you saw your favorite item in the lineup.

You already knew it, but in case you had any doubt, the note itself confirmed your theory twice. One indicator was the phrasing choice would you as opposed to will you. Use of would posits a hypothetical, as in hypothetically, would you have an interest in drinking coffee together, rather than a hard, come with me to get coffee. The hesitance in the tone came off as if the sender were testing the waters, wanting to put the idea out there without coming off as too strong. Because it was reserved, it gave you room to think if you would genuinely enjoy doing so as opposed to making you feel like you should oblige. That level of respect screamed Spencer to you. And though it was so glaringly obvious, if you needed some concrete evidence it was the fact that nobody else had such endearingly atrocious handwriting like Dr. Reid. It was something you always found hilariously ironic for a man who often analyzes other people’s writing styles for work. You wondered what his way of scribbling said about him, and hoped he could tell you on that date of yours.

You looked straight at him, finding that his eyes were already fixed on you.

“Yes.”

One word was all you had to say to make the lump in Spencer’s throat disappear, replaced by the sensation that his heart was leaping out of his chest. He was going to keep that memory stored in his brain forever, just to replay the moment when the future of your relationship changed with a simple word. Little did he know that when you finished that muffin, you neatly folded the pastry bag and tucked it into your desk drawer, saving it for the exact same purpose.

_____

Spencer had gotten to see your favorite coffee spot already, so for your date you requested that he take you to his to make it even. It was small, but incredibly cozy under the soft ambiance provided by string lights and charm of their mismatched furniture. There was one exposed brick wall adjacent to another that was a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf; it housed copies that loyal patrons left behind for others to pick up. All of those books had different colors of post-its peeking out from the pages. It was almost too eclectic and disorganized for what you would expect Dr. Reid to be into, but at the same time it made perfect sense to you.

“You know, I think I just learned something about you.” You leaned gently into his side to tell him, both hands wrapped around your coffee cup because you were too nervous to know what else to do with them. Spencer was the kind of guy to sit adjacent to you at a table, rather than across, and you loved that about him. You loved having him as close to you as possible.

Spencer’s lips pulled at the edges to form a perfect, lazy smile. “What did you learn about me?” The team had an agreement not to profile each other, but under your gaze, Spencer never felt the kind of scrutiny that came with picking people apart. He trusted that whatever you had to say was going to be kind.

“I think this place says so much about you. Something about how all those books are donations passed on from locals, and that people feel comfortable taking a book off the shelf and opening it up to read what others recommend. The fact that they leave little notes in it for the next reader to share what those stories meant to each of them. Nobody asked those people to do that, but they all chose to take part in these small actions that ended up creating an entire community.” It was one of the most beautifully human things you’d ever witnessed. A group of people engaging in understated and innocent gestures of love between perfect strangers, completely unprompted. “I think you value simple acts, the kind that can take on profound meaning without even intending to. Like when silence feels so comfortable when you’re with the right person.” You paused to take in his reaction as a gauge for how right or wrong you may be. He gave no objection to what you had posited, eyes simply glued to you in intense focus. Spencer was hanging on everything you said, wordlessly encouraging you to divulge more theories you’d developed on him.

“And, visually, this furniture reminds me of a family home. The kind where some items were handed down for generations, some bought new, and others gifted by a distant relative who has no idea what the family likes.” Spencer’s soft laughter mirrored your own at your very accurate description of the shop’s decor. The room truly could not be more disjointed in its aesthetic, but that was entirely its charm. “It probably reflects that there are some aspects of your life that just don’t make sense to you, that almost seem to conflict with each other. For a guy so smart, I’m sure it’s scary to feel like you don’t understand something, and there are probably dark spots in that brain of yours that you try to hide from the world. But in this room, these things that don’t seem like they work together actually amount to something so lovely. And just like the charmingly hideous suede couch and the oddly fur-covered armchairs, every facet of you deserves appreciation because without them you wouldn’t make up to be the beautiful person you are overall.”

Neither of you could pinpoint the moment which your hands had drifted together, fingers loosely intertwined in gentle embrace. There was too much to unpack in what you had said for Spencer to know where to begin. The only thing he could say for sure was that he was astounded by how deeply you understood him without him ever saying any of those things. He considered that maybe you understood him better than he did himself and wished that he could spend his whole life observing the world through the same rose-tinted lenses with which you viewed him. At a loss for words, Spencer chose not to say any right then. The silence I have with you is the most comfortable I’ve ever had.

_____

After each of you consumed one too many caffeinated beverages, you still were not prepared to let the date end. You were willing to sit there and have as many espresso drinks as you could to keep talking to Spencer.

The universe must have been in support of your romance as the overcast skies broke and began to rain just minutes after the two of you had left the shop. Spencer was walking you back to your apartment, clearly forcing his long legs to slow down their naturally fast stride so to extend how long it took to get there. He could get an extra thirteen minutes with you this way. Spencer was given his perfect excuse to keep the date going in the form of heavy downpour; his apartment was far closer than yours, and he proposed you two should seek shelter together until it stopped. I hope it never stops.

Spencer held tightly onto your hand as he ran with you through the rain, giggling all the way to his apartment. He may not like wet, cold climates, but he sure did like holding your hand. Being next to you made him feel incredibly warm somehow when the temperature outside was very much not. And you felt completely at peace sitting on Spencer’s couch wearing one of his sweaters that he lent you. Truthfully, your own clothes weren’t so wet from the rain that it was necessary, but you both pretended it absolutely was just to be able to experience this.

It was clear that the rain would be going for a while and all you wanted to do to pass the time was continue listening to Spencer talk. You discovered that when he’s not interrupted, he loves to go on runaway tangents, often bouncing between different trains of thought as one idea sparked him to remember another. It was almost a sport to keep up with him, but it was perhaps the only one you’ve ever enjoyed. It was so easy when everything he said interested you. You loved that Spencer taught you something new every day, but no matter how niche a piece of trivia or shocking an unknown fact was, it could not beat the things that he taught you about himself. He was letting you in on so many unseen dimensions of himself whether he knew it or not, the explicit ones revealing implicit ones.

You had happily stayed in his home for hours, absorbing every word he spoke. What entertained you the most was the ability of your conversation to jump from deep, serious places to lighthearted stories filled with jokes and teasing and back again in a way that felt completely natural. Your favorite anecdote of his was the story of how he got addicted to coffee. It was the BAU’s favorite inside-joke that Spencer liked his coffee sickeningly sweet and you always wondered how he could tolerate it. Just looking at it made your teeth ache. When he told you why, you thought that the backstory was even sweeter than the coffee.

As a twelve year old college student, Spencer found himself experiencing sleep deprivation for the first time in his life. The course load was more rigorous than he had in high school and even the boy genius needed to readjust to the new expectations of college. More importantly, he needed to cope with pulling late nights at the library if he wanted his first degree by the time he was eligible for a driver’s license. The Red Bulls that the other kids seem to gravitate to seemed far too aggressive for Spencer, their potent smell of chemicals a huge turn off. They were definitely not for him.

He remembered how often his mom used to drink coffee, always in the morning while Spencer got ready for school. Being at CalTech and away from his mother, who remained in Las Vegas most of the time due to her condition, made him so homesick that he took up a coffee habit as a reminder of her. He loved the way it smelled like every comfort he had ever known.

Though he appreciated its smell, Spencer, of course, was not ready back then to love the way it tasted. He was still after all a twelve year old boy who had a sweet tooth like any other kid. The bitter drink was almost offensive to him, so he always made his coffee with extra, extra sugar. He was a menace to the baristas at the campus coffee cart because they would have to refill the shaker every time he stopped by. As it turned out, Spencer was actually a little troublemaker in his youth.

You utterly adored this story and the way it humanized Spencer in a way that other people did not consider often enough. Yes, he was the genius in incredibly advanced classes for his age, but he was also a little kid who behaved as all little kids did. He also experienced struggle and had to cope with it just like everyone else. He was not, as some chose to believe, a complete anomaly beyond understanding. Those many misunderstood idiosyncrasies Spencer had started to feel grounded as you learned more about him and could appreciate how and why they came to be.

But the night was dwindling down and two of you had gone through many stories since the start of your day together. Hitting a caffeine crash, you found yourself unable to keep some rogue yawns at bay. It was only eight o’clock in the evening, not an unreasonable time for you to ask Spencer to drive you back home. The rain was letting up to a mellow drizzle. Spencer was running out of excuses to keep you here.

But you thought about how still hadn’t heard about his first pet lizard, which he caught in his backyard, and you didn’t yet know what kind of music he listened to when he was fourteen. And you no longer thought you needed to make excuses to stay with him longer, so you told him honestly that all you really wanted was to stay the night with him and keep hearing his stories. So you asked him if he would set on a fresh pot of coffee, just so you both could sip at it, staying awake all night together.

He happily did so, and while he set the large coffee pot on and took out two cups from his cabinet, he thought, this is the first of many wishes of yours that I’d like to make come true.

______

PART THREE

Tag list: @rexorangecounty @rachel-voychuk @snitchthewitch @spencer-blake-supremacy @happyreid187 @rainsong01 @librarymagic

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #fluff #my fic #criminal minds self insert

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witchlyboo · 3 years

Text

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

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Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

#ben hardy imagine #michael b jordan fc #tom holland x reader #timothee chalamet fanfiction #pedro pascal #logan lerman fc #definitely maybe #fluff #angst #timothee chalamet #Tom Holland #Ben Hardy

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shivada-jade · 3 years

Text

soulmates! (2)

soulmate!au BECAUSE IM WEAK. YOU'RE WEAK TOO.

characters: ganyu, kaeya, thoma ➡ mentions: cloud retainer, ningguang, adelinde, diluc, crepus, rosaria, traveler warning(s): like- just one swear

part one: (bennett, zhongli, diluc)

ganyu: can see footprints where soulmate has recently stepped on. if followed, they will be lead to their soulmate. sort of like "hot and cold" cold if you're far and hot if you're close

she knew she is a very busy person. she surprises herself when she asked ningguang for a day off.

"you want a day off?" she remembers ningguang's composed face deteriorate and herself doing the same thing.

ningguang let her rest for two weeks even if ganyu had only requested one. now she has so much free time.

the first thing she did was sleep, but she couldn't- not when she spots purple footprints.

as part adeptus with one heck of a good eyesight, she always assumes that the footprints on the ground are because of her eyesight, but cloud retainer says otherwise.

"child, you have a soulmate system of which," the old bird starts. "where one has the ability see where one's soulmate has been, and if they've been there recently."

blue footprints that fade away means her soulmate had left a long time ago. red-ish-orange footprints mean that her soulmate is very close by, but it's never been that colour in her eyes.

ganyu strolls along the grassy plains of liyue, admiring all the sweet flowers. she lightly touches her horns, a habit she got from being awoken from naps on a field of sweet flowers.

the footprints were purple, which is the closest to red ganyu had ever gotten. blue is the colour she always sees like her vision, her hair, the waters of liyue, and the glazed lilies.

the purple is also as beautiful.

"fate will bring two together at the right moment. thou need not rush." ganyu can hear cloud retainer say, so she didn't run after the footprints.

the half-adepti thrums her fingers on her leg, unsure what to do with all the free time given to her. she supposes she can head back to liyue and have tea with madame ping.

meeting madame ping confuses ganyu. the elderly woman keeps asking of her soulmate system and if she's met them.

"ganyu, have you met them?"

"ganyu, why not chase after them?"

"ganyu, ganyu ganyu-"

ganyu politely sets her teacup down, "i have yet to find them."

madame ping chuckles in her elderly woman way, like those smug elderly women who know more than others but will act clueless to amuse them.

"you know, i have a special gift, some speculate it as a curse, but i think it's wonderful," she said, pouring more tea for ganyu. "i have the ability to see red strings that connect soulmates. i can connect, i can break connections, but i can't see my own."

ganyu frowns slightly, "have you met yours?"

"no, but it makes me happy seeing the strings connect with people," she blows on her tea to make it cooler and turns her head to avoid looking at ganyu.

"madame ping, why-"

"you," a person behind ganyu seethes.

meekly, ganyu turns around and finds someone glaring at her. "may i help you?"

"ganyu, right? why do you always walk so fucking fast. i can never catch up to you when i see your footprints, and you're always going from place to place. one moment you're in liyue, the next your in somewhere like fontaine or something. it's like you're spiderman."

ganyu's jaw goes slack, "you're my soulmate?" she looks at the ground, seeing red footprints of where her soulmate had just walked. she now understand why madame ping kept asking her about her soulmate, because madame ping knew her soulmate was going to meet her.

ganyu clears her thoat, standing up to offer her soulmate a seat, "would you like to join us for tea?"

her soulmate blinks, and looks at the tea set then back to ganyu, "sorry, i didn't mean to intrude your tea party. i'm [name]."

"hello, i'm madame ping," the woman speaks "and your soulmate is ganyu. have tea."

ganyu stifles a laugh and sits on a chair next to her soulmate. "i apologize for walking too fast."

kaeya: he hears what his soulmate sings

at first kaeya thought he was going crazy when he kept hearing music in his head.

"dad!" he cried, forcingly rubbing away the tears that fell down his cheeks. the kids near the winery had come over and played with him and diluc, and that was when the first notes started. it never bothered him. he brushed it off until it became a full sound of a voice and a song.

not understanding scared kaeya to death. he always knew something, but this is the first where he doesn't know. he felt like he was going insane with this voice in his head, singing in his head; a voice that wasn't his.

"dad!" he called out again more desperately. diluc held him by his side, worried for his brother.

"father!" dliuc called this time, "father, kaeya's feeling sick."

diluc brought in kaeya, rubbing his back in attempt to comfort him. he saw adelinde and waved to her.

adelinde gasped when she spotted the blue-haired boy sobbing. she dropped her feather duster on the shelf she was dusting and dropped herself next to kaeya, inspecting of there were any wounds on his skin.

"kaeya, dear. what's the matter?" she quietly tells diluc to get his father in the wine cellar and gently pushed kaeya to take a seat near the fireplace.

diluc silently obeyed and ran, unlocking the door that led to his father.

kaeya hiccupped, unable to form words.

adelinde hushed him. her motherly fingers soothed his head, "what's wrong? breathe with me, dear. just until your father gets back."

she inhaled and exhaled in a steady manner for kaeya to follow. the boy shakily did the same. he did it a few more times, inhaling and exhaling slowly with adelinde. he calmed down. the crying stopped and his breathing was normal again. adelinde took this as another chance to ask him what's wrong.

"are you ready to tell me?"

kaeya blinked the tears off and gripped his clothes to stop himself from crying again. "it's happening again. i- i don't understand miss adelinde."

adelinde placed a hand over kaeya's for him to know she was listening. "what don't you understand?"

"i keep hearing things. i always hear a voice that isn't mine in my head-" kaeya sputtered.

diluc and crepus open the door from the cellar. crepus' face etched with worry when he spotted kaeya crying to adelinde. diluc had told him as much as he could but all the information he gathered was kaeya started covering his ears and crying.

"-all the voice does is sing and sing. i don't even like some of the songs it sings! i don't- i don't know," kaeya stammered, not noticing the two others that joined. "i don't know what happening to me. i'm scared."

crepus smiled at adelinde and nodded to her, signaling that he can handle it from here. adelinde gave a grateful nod and brushed herself off the floor to continue her duties.

"my boy," crepus smiles, kneeling in front kaeya to see him better. he brushed his face with a thumb and hugged him. crepus chuckled when kaeya hugged him tighter.

"my boy," the man continued with a knowing smile on his face. "that's your soulmate system. you can hear them singing if they sing as they can hear you singing when you sing."

kaeya lets go from crepus' hold and sniffled his tears away, "what? but isn't a soulmate system when things fall on you?"

diluc from the back of the room silently listened in, also confused as kaeya. didn't everyone have the same soulmate system?

crepus pats kaeya's shoulders, "we all have different ways to know who our soulmate is. yours and diluc's soul systems are different from everyone."

"master crepus is right." adelinde piped in while dusting off the dust on the shelves. "my soulmate system is a countdown to when i'll meet them."

kaeya looked at the woman shocked, "so not everyone has things falling on them?"

"correct." crepus raved, "but unlike diluc's soul system, instead of things falling on me, it appears on my hand for my soulmate system."

diluc eyes his brother, picking up a stray book on a chair and handed it to adelinde to help her.

kaeya pulled a cheeky grin and pointed to diluc, "diluc's eavesdropping."

the said boy gasped and turned his body around to make it look like he was doing something busy.

crepus bellows a laugh, "so what song is your soulmate singing?"

...

to be frank, kaeya had no idea what his soulmate sang that day. it was random words jumbled together. in fact, most things his soulmate sings are songs he has never heard before. it progressed from simple tunes, but now kaeya feels like his soulmate might be a song composer.

when he was younger he'd brag to diluc saying "my soulmate sings so well! what does your soulmate sound like, hah!"

to which diluc would respond with

he grins, swirling his wine around the glass as he watches a stack of papers hit diluc's face while bar tending on the first floor. kaeya clinks his glass on the table, watching people enter and leave the tavern from above.

today, his soulmate sings a song he's heard of.

'the wellerman,' and judging from the pauses and missing lyrics, kaeya safely assumes his soulmate was singing a duet with someone.

"soon may the wellerman come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum!"

kaeya hums the next few notes, never singing. after hearing his soulmate sing for the first time, his thought was to never sing- not when his soulmate could be a billionaire for singing with their voice.

only on occasions he would sing to let his soulmate know he was there.

he finishes the last sip of his wine and descends down the tavern stairs, raising a hand to acknowledge rosaria drinking in the corner. he airily chuckles, seeing diluc scrunch his eyes at the papers in front of him instead of looking at kaeya.

kaeya pushes the door open, humming along to the song his soulmate sings. he strolls by the alleyways, waving a hello to flora and a couple dogs that bark at his feet, scratching behind its ears.

he hears a bard singing at the plaza and saunters towards the music, climbing up the stairs and his frame almost freezes when seeing someone acting out to the song playing in his head.

good hunter's table tips over with a person on it. they land smoothly to the ground with a grin while singing with a resident bard.

"one day when the tonguing is done, we'll take our leave and go," they sing with so much melody and soul. the bard in green rumbles with cheer, raising his hands and dancing with the other with an arm latched around another.

kaeya watches, mesmerized by the singing and clapping around the plaza. he claps along and laughs when the bard drags his friend up to the walls of the fountain, singing louder.

the makes eye contact with the singer and waves. the singer waves back, unaware of what kaeya now knows.

soulmates.

he clued the pieces together and admired his soulmate from a distance, not wanting to disturb the performance.

"she'd not been two weeks from shore, when down on her a right whale bore!" the bard sings in glee.

kaeya quietly sings the next part, blending with the crowd. the whoops and cheers grow louder, chanting for his soulmate to sing the part kaeya sand under his breath, but to his surprise his soulmate tenses.

"WAIT! stop!" they hush the crowd with a hand and confuse everyone, "my soulmate's singing! but they're a bit too quiet. they never sing so shh, this is rare!"

the people murmur, watching kaeya's soulmate covering their ears to hear him clearer. kaeya grins, taking this opportunity to sing out loud.

"soon may the wellerman come to bring us sugar and tea and rum!" kaeya waltzes in front of the people who create a pathway for him.

his soulmate's eyes snap to him and he steps up next to them, standing on the fountain. the bard grins, and cheers. the crowd follows his cheer, watching their cavalry captain sing to his soulmate.

kaeya takes his soulmate's hand and presses a kiss on the back, "hello darling, i'm kaeya."

his soulmate doesn't hear him talking, no. they hear music when he speaks. though, kaeya's introduction threw them off, who's to say they couldn't return the gesture.

"a pleasure to meet you at last," they place a hand over their forehead for drama. they grin taking kaeya's waist closer to them and whisper in his ear, "you have a marvelous voice."

mondstadt had never seen kaeya at loss for words and a blush rising his face.

thoma: you taste the same things your soulmate tastes, no matter how strange- even when you're already eating something else

for most times, you were envious of your soulmate for eating the most lavishing food- food only one with money can get. you so desperately wanted to try the food they ate.

you didn't know what they ate, but only knew of the taste. sometimes it clashes with what you eat, like one time you ate an orange while your soulmate started toothbrushing. it wasn't very pleasant to say the least.

you were minding yourself, gathering food for your dinner until you taste something horrible.

wtf is my soulmate eating

it is a vile taste on your tongue, and no amount of water can wash the taste off. you try rinsing it, you tried eating something with a stronger taste, but no matter what, the thing your soulmate ate just stays there. it's disgusting.

you buy anything sour to un-taste what you tasted, and it still doesn't work. walking nearby a tea house, you see a man of blonde, clutching his stomach and laughing at a traveler from afar. call it fate, because it probably is, you know by the second he says his stomach hurts, he is your soulmate.

you point at him with a pointed glare, "what on earth did you EAT?!"

you take a bite of a sliced purple melon in your hand and the man in front of you widens his jade eyes, noting the food you're eating and the blooming taste on his tongue. the traveler next to him knits their brows, looking between you and their friend.

"thoma," the traveler calls. "who's this?"

thoma looks at you apologetically and sheepishly rubs the nape of his neck. "hey? i did it to win a contest... i couldn't let my pride down." he pauses, looking at you, "forgive me?"

you wanted to throw a punch on him, but you knew he had it worse with a bad aftertaste and a stomach ache.

you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. and place a mischievous grin, "take me on a date with food that's actually good, and then i'll think about forgiving you."

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #kaeya x reader #kaeya #genshin thoma #thoma x reader #ganyu #ganyu x reader #genshin ganyu #genshin impact kaeya

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