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halstudandruz · 4 years

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Research Purposes ~ Part 2

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Jay x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: What happens when the only person in the world you didn’t want finding out does?

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Part one found here (NSFW, 18+)

A/N 2: Also thank you to @enchantedblackrose for the idea 😊

If you are not 18+ and are unable to read part 1 and want to back story just hit me up (:

“We’re so freaking late. There’s no way we’ll have time to stop for my car.” You rushed around Jay’s apartment, pouring coffee for both of you.

“And whose fault is that.” Jay looked at you accusingly.

“I was just trying to help the environment.” You shrugged, handing him his cup after checking the lid.

“You and I both know we wasted more water in there together than we would’ve showering on our own.” He retorted grabbing his badge and gun off the coffee table to secure them to his belt.

“Yeah okay so I wanted shower sex sue me.” You rolled your eyes shrugging your jacket on.

“I wasn’t the one complaining.” He smiled, taking a drink.

“We would’ve had more than enough time if you didn’t insist on cuddling this morning.” You pointed out, remembering how he pulled you back into his chest every time you tried to move out of bed a couple hours prior.

“You like shower sex. I like cuddling.” He teased handing you your purse.

“Maybe we can draft up an alternate schedule.” You joked.

“I do hear compromise is the key to a healthy relationship.” He replied.

“We gotta go if you don’t want to get pulled over for speeding.” You changed the subject reaching for the door knob, before being tugged back by your arm, turning in time for Jay’s lips to meet yours in a sweet, passionate kiss.

“To get us both through the day.” Jay winked reaching around you to open the door and usher you out.

This was the second time that week you and Jay would be showing up to work together. Nobody noticed it the first time, but your anxiety climbed at the thought of someone recognizing and approaching you about it. What would you say? You and Jay were only in it purely for the sex. Right? Regardless of that fact that you had stayed at his house almost every night the past couple weeks even without the promise of sex, or how your stuff was starting to accumulate at his house from the past few months. A few t-shirts mixed in with his, hair straightener resting on his bathroom organizer, makeup scattered about on the dresser. Friends with benefits, that’s all it was. Nothing more and you certainly were not gaining feelings for him. Absolutely not that was against the rules and you were not about to be some stereotypical fuck buddy turned feelings trope, but you were getting sloppy apparently. You agreed to enter through the front while Jay entered through the back. Skipping up the steps you threw a smile at Trudy offering her a good morning, but in return she stared you down, eyebrow raised as she rested against the desk.

“What?” You stopped in your tracks in front of her. But she stayed silent giving you a look, and you just knew she knew. She was Trudy Platt. She knew everything.

“You should tell him.” She whispered to you, and it’s not the first time she had said something of the sort recently.

“Tell who, what?” You continued to fake innocence as you had the times before.

“It’s going to end badly.” She pushed again.

“It already did end badly.” You reminded her before trudging upstairs feeling the heat of her stare still on your back. Everyone except Kim was already there, including Jay who had his feet kicked up on his desk looking through a file. You greeted everyone draping your coat over the back of your chair and falling into it.

The first hour ticked by slowly, and you found your eyes moving across the room to focus on Jay. Opened documents lay across your desk. He looked so relaxed, shoulders loose, breaths slow and even, head resting against his palm as he fought not to fall asleep. You knew he would rather be out chasing suspects, but deep down you were starting to register you were okay with paperwork days. It meant he was safe, and that thought scared you a little. The last time you had those same thoughts you were staring at a different man in the room. A man who sat not too far behind Jay, clicking his pen absentmindedly as he often did when he was bored.

“Ruz, I’ll break the damn pen.” Kevin grumbled, as he had many times before in response to the habit.

“Sorry.” Adam mumbled, setting the utensil onto his desk away from his fidgety hands.

You chuckled at the small exchange, experiencing the exact same one many times in the years you had been detailed in intelligence with the best people you could’ve ever asked to work with. That certainly didn’t mean it wasn’t complicated though, and you were the very obvious example of that. You watched Jay’s head bob catching himself before adjusting in order to keep himself awake. His eyes accidentally met yours, heart rate immediately increasing. He sent you a small smile as his eyes started to roam over your body. Looking for a distraction from the tedious work. You couldn’t scold him. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been doing the same thing the past 10 minutes. Looking at his arms that were tight against his sleeves you wondered if the scratch marks you left on his biceps this morning would still be prevalent, or if the fading hickey from nights prior was still noticeable on his hip bone.

“I need coffee. Anyone else?” You asked trying to divert the obvious eye fucking your were giving each other. Everyone in the room raising their hands. You laughed taking notice of all the tired eyes who so obviously wanted to bash their heads off the desk already bored out of their minds, just waiting for a case to jump off.

“I’ll help.” Jay offered, voice gruff from barely speaking all morning. Together you poured and distributed everyone cups. Sitting back down into your chair when Jay was handing Kev his.

“You gonna shave that thing anytime soon? You usually can’t stand it past a week.” Kevin asked Jay, referring to his beard. They had always teased him whenever he claimed it grew in patchy compared to Adam and Kevin’s and it usually resulted in him having a clean shaven face the next shift. But it had grown in quite nicely this time, and he made sure to keep it presentable by trimming it as needed.

“No, it’s starting to grow on me. I’m keeping it for research anyway. Seems it can enhance far more than just my facial features.” Jay shrugged casually sitting back down atin his chair, and at his words you choked on your coffee spitting it all over your desk. Uncontrollable coughs tickling your throat.

“You good [Y/L/N]?” Hailey asked standing up to help you.

“Yeah..sorry. Just.. went down the wrong pipe. Didn’t expect it to be so.. hot.” You explained between coughs looking across the room to glare at Jay who wore a cocky smirk on his face, flipping through papers not daring to look up at you.

“You forget your ice?” Adam asked, knowing you had put a couple cubes of ice in your coffee every morning cooling it down so you could drink it faster.

“I must’ve. Kinda out of it today.” You shook your head taking napkins out of your drawer to try to clean up the mess you had made on your desk as well as your white shirt.

“I’ll get you some.” He started to walk towards the break room.

“It’s really okay I spit most of it out anyway.” You laughed.

“I’ll just get you a new cup.” He reasoned and you just thanked him not feeling like bickering with him about it. He had been going out of his way to do nice things for you recently. You assumed either so you wouldn’t spill the beans about him and Upton or because he felt bad.

“There’s no way this is coming out..” You grumbled dabbing at the tan stain forming on your shirt, “Do you happen to have a spare?” You asked, turning towards Hailey.

“I’m sorry I don’t. I used my spare the other day after that shooting and haven’t brought another extra.” Hailey apologized. You waved her off thanking her anyway.

“There’s one in my locker.” Jay offered, “You’ll probably just have to tuck it in.” You thought for a moment, it probably wouldn’t look like a big deal. Just a friend helping out a friend.

“Okay. Thanks.” You nodded getting up to head to the locker room where Jay followed. “I know where your locker is.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, but you don’t know my combination nor are you very good at opening dial locks. Hence why you have a keypad one on yours.” Jay pointed out, spinning his combination. He was right. You could never open dial locks.

“Do you analyze everything I do?” You crossed your arms annoyed at how well he always seemed to know you.

“You’re an interesting person babe.” He smiled handing you the shirt as he kissed your forehead.

“Watch yourself. You don’t know who’s hiding in here.” You lectured, “this is your fault by the way.”

“I know. Total win-win situation.” Jay laughed, smiling brightly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me Jay Halstead.” You groaned, a small smile on your lips.

“What a way to go though, huh?” He quipped, giving you a quick kiss.

“Get out.” You pushed his chest.

“What? No free peep show? I offered you my shirt and everything.” He acted offended.

“They’re gonna start getting suspicious if we are in here any longer go.” He huffed at your reply giving in and leaving as you turned around to switch shirts. Jay’s scent immediately overwhelmed you as you slipped his shirt on. Causing your body to relax in turn at the familiar fragrance. Jay was right, you had to tuck the shirt into your jeans, otherwise it could’ve been a dress thanks to your large height difference. Turning to walk out of the locker room, you were met with Adam holding a new cup of coffee out to you making you jump at the unexpected body in your path. “Thank you.” You giggled taking it from his hand to take a drink.

“Did you change?” He asked, eyeing the shirt you now wore.

“Oh yeah. I had white on and it was gonna stain so Jay offered me his shirt.” You explained, shifting on your feet at the uncomfortable conversation.

“Well I have one. It might fit you better.” He offered moving to walk towards his locker, but you put a hand to his chest stopping him.

“I’m good this one is perfectly fine.” You reassured him, Adam stared at you, breaking the tense silence with a long sigh, leaning against the side of the lockers.

“Listen we never got to talk about that night you came to my apartment. I just wanted to say I’m really sorry you-“ He began to apologize when Kevin peeked his head in the door.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt..” he looked between the two of you awkwardly, “but we just got a case.” Adam cleared his throat as you nodded,

“We can..finish this later.” You chewed on your lip pushing past him to grab your coat out of Kevin’s hand.

It was nearing 8 o’clock by the time Voight had given you guys permission to go home and get some sleep. Knowing you’d be returning bright and early in the morning to continue to case.

“What do you think about pizza tonight? I’ve been craving some Bartolis.” Jay asked walking down the stairs behind you.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You stopped turning to face him when you rounded the corner out of sight.

“Well I can just get pizza and I’ll stop for whatever else you want too.” He offered.

“I’m not talking about food, Jay.” You laughed, looking at the ground. Your mind had been racing since showing up with Jay this morning.

“Then..what are you talking about?” He asked, stepping closer towards you.

“I mean I don’t know I’ve been at your place almost every night the last couple weeks.” You whispered, hoping your voice wouldn’t carry to anyone nearby.

“Well we can go to your place. That’s fine.” He reasoned.

“No that’s not..” You sighed not able to find the words.

“Hey, just talk to me. What’s up.” He encouraged hands falling to your hips holding you gently.

“I’m just worried we’re starting to get careless. Showing up to work twice in one week together. One of these days we’re bound to get caught either coming in together or showing up on scene together. We don’t even know what this is. I don’t want to have to talk to Voight about it in the meantime.” You explained.

“We can be more careful. I promise. I just don’t want you to freak out about this.” He assured you tucking your hair behind your ear. “Can we just address how good you look in my shirt. I’m so glad you’re such a klutz..” Jay’s eyes roamed up and down your body.

“I am not a klutz! How did you expect me to react?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him as you did a few hours prior.

“Well is it not the truth? This thing is still on my face purely for your satisfaction.” He reminded you by trailing his lips down your neck, immediately summoning goosebumps from the raggedness tickling in the wake of his lips. He winked knowing his point was proven, moving up to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Sooo pizza?” He asked, pulling back, hopeful look on his face.

“Fine, but I’m not going in to get it.” You rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders pulling you towards his truck but when you rounded the corner your eyes connected with Adam’s who stood near the door, eyes wide between you two as Jay let his arm fall to his side, your feet rooted to the floor.

“I forgot my wallet in my locker.” Adam explained stammering over his words.

“Well don’t let us keep you. See you tomorrow brother.” Jay remained calm grabbing your arm to pull you out. Patting Adam on the shoulder when you passed.

“Shit!” You cursed when you reached Jay’s truck.

“What?” He questioned and you looked at him dumbfounded.

“You’re fucking kidding me right?” You scoffed.

“He’s not gonna tell Voight. For starters it’s Adam. Plus we know about him and Hailey. He can’t.” He shrugged.

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” You yelled.

“You just said that’s what you were worried about.” Jay reminded you, trying to catch up. “Babe.” He urged when you didn’t answer him.

“You don’t get it Jay!” You shook your head, lump forming in your throat at the anxiety the situation presented.

“No, you’re right I don’t. I’m sorry. Help me understand.” He grabbed a hold of your hand trying to get you to face him.

“Not right now.” You chewed your lip feeling a few tears fall down your cheeks, quickly swiping them away before they were seen, but you knew Jay would know regardless. You were tired, hungry, and now slightly panicking at the thought of having to address the entire situation. His hand squeezed yours tighter before starting his truck putting it in drive.

All Tag List:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @grettiwrites @inlovewith3

Jay Taglist:

@jayxhalsteadx @life-treatments @weepingfestivalmentality @toomuchtv95 @queen-of-arda

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd x reader #Chicago pd #one chicago imagine #one chicago

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extasiswings · 3 years

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you make my heart beat

I played myself...anyway, if you’re interested in the post that inspired this, it’s here, asking how I would write a forgotten first meeting + hospital AU. Also on ao3 here. Have about 2k of Buck and nurse!Eddie set between seasons 2 and 3.

Eddie is at the reception desk reading a chart when a cup of coffee slides over the counter and settles by his forearm. He glances up—

“Usually it’s the doctors bringing me bribes, not the patients,” he says, a small smile curving his lips. “Last I checked, you didn’t have charts for me to transcribe for you—what’s this for then?”

Buck shrugs and leans forward, elbows on the counter.

“Who says it’s a bribe? I can’t just do something nice for my favorite nurse?”

Eddie closes the chart and picks up the cup—his eyes slip closed as espresso and cinnamon bursts across his tongue, and he barely holds back a groan—fuck, but it’s been a long shift.

“Thank you,” he replies. “Did I know you were coming in today?”

Buck shakes his head. “Last minute check-up. Got new scans on Monday—if everything looks good, Dr. Graves should clear me to take my recertification test.”

There’s a hopeful note in his tone even as Eddie catches the flicker of nervousness that passes through his eyes, and Eddie thinks about running into him a few months earlier, about I don’t know who I am without the uniform, and reaches out. His hand curves around Buck’s elbow where it rests on the counter—it makes his breathing go a little unsteady, touching Buck without the justification and distance provided by clinical professionalism, but the touch elicits a soft smile that does funny things to his heart, so Eddie can’t quite regret it either.

“That’s really great, Buck,” he says quietly. “I’m happy for you.”

One of the new residents comes around the corner and Eddie clears his throat as he pulls back his hand.

“I guess I know what the bribe was for then,” he teases, trying to push them back to their prior, lighthearted zone. “You just wanted me to do your work-up instead of Shirley.”

Buck laughs. “Can you blame me?” He asks. “She’s mean and her hands are always cold.”

“You complain that I’m mean all the time,” Eddie shoots back as he logs into the computer to check Buck in.

“Yeah, well, maybe I—” Buck cuts himself off and Eddie glances up in time to catch the flush darkening his cheeks. There are a lot of ways that sentence could end and all of them make his own face heat.

Maybe it’s silly—he’s an adult, he’s single, he gets flirted with all the time, even, or maybe especially by Buck, he shouldn’t get flustered. But it’s because it is Buck and not just any random patient or family member that he does. Because Eddie doesn’t know what he’s doing but he wants—

He busies himself grabbing a clipboard and a check-in form and clears his throat again before looking up.

“Come on, I’ll take you back.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Buck replies, and his smile is back, the soft one. It’s only because Eddie’s distracted by it that he notices the way it twists into a grimace when Buck takes a step.

Eddie’s brow furrows. “You okay?”

Buck waves him off. “Fine, just—I’ve been training a lot so I can take my test as soon as I’m cleared. Must have pulled a muscle or something. Twinged a little is all.”

Eddie makes a note on the clipboard and Buck groans.

“No, come on—I pulled a muscle, I’m fine, you don’t have to write that down.”

“Maybe you pulled a muscle, maybe it’s nothing—regardless, Dr. Graves should know that you’re having leg pain just in case,” Eddie says. He pauses and narrows his eyes. “You weren’t going to tell him.”

“Because it’s nothing,” Buck insists. “Come on, Nurse Diaz, isn’t there some saying about hearing hoofbeats and thinking horses, not zebras?”

Eddie steers Buck down the hall to an exam room.

“Yeah, sure. I’ve heard it,” he replies.

“So?”

“So…” They step through the door and Eddie nods at the exam table before reaching for a blood pressure cuff. “There are a lot of very common things that could be causing pain in a limb that you’ve had multiple surgeries on, only one of which is that you pulled a muscle, and some of which could be serious. No zebras required. I’m not taking the note off the chart and you’re not going to lie when you get asked about it, okay?”

He fastens the cuff around Buck’s arm and presses a button to start the reading—he can’t help the way his lips twitch at Buck’s exasperated look.

“Little pressure,” he adds, and Buck rolls his eyes.

“I should have taken my chances with Shirley,” Buck grumbles.

“Yeah, well, if there’s a next time you can bring her coffee instead—I hear she likes hazelnut lattes.”

The cuff loosens, the monitor beeps. Eddie scribbles down the number. It’s a little high—Eddie glances over, takes in the tension in Buck’s shoulders, and bites his cheek.

“It’ll be okay,” he says, even though he usually tries to avoid promising patients anything. “Best case, they run a few more scans and waste a couple hours of your afternoon to find out that you’re right and perfectly fine. Worst case, something’s wrong and they catch it now and fix it and you’re still on track to get back to work, just maybe a couple weeks later than you planned.”

“It’s already been five months,” Buck sighs, his fingers raking through his hair.

“I know it’s frustrating—”

“How’s Christopher?” Buck interrupts, and Eddie levels him with a sharp look for the obvious deflection, but allows the subject change as he logs into the exam room computer.

“He’s good,” he replies. “Great, actually. Keeps asking about you—he, uh, he had a really great time the other day, even if it was just hanging around here. I can’t thank you enough for watching him.”

It’s not something Eddie normally would have done at all, but his abuela had a fall, Pepa had to go back to work, he couldn’t take off because they were already short-staffed with three other nurses out with the flu—

And Buck had just…been there. Finished with his physical therapy and offering to stick around so Eddie could finish his shift, all smiles and no judgment, and after five months…well, they’re something like friends, right? They're...something, anyway.

“He’s an amazing kid, and it was the best day I’ve had in…awhile, actually,” Buck admits. “You really don’t have to keep thanking me. I would do it again any time.”

I do, though, Eddie thinks, but he bites it back. He bites back, I’d like that, too.

He finishes filling in the intake information and steps back.

“You should be all set. The doctor will be in any minute.” He pauses before he reaches the door. Swallows.

“Find me after?” He asks. “Let me know how it goes? I’m on until four.”

“I’ll find you,” Buck promises. “Have to say I told you so when it turns out I just pulled a muscle.”

“I’ll be glad to hear it,” Eddie replies. He gets one more smile to sustain him before he walks out, leaving Buck behind.

He’ll see Buck later.

Except…he doesn’t. The rest of his shift passes without another sign of the other man and the gnawing worry in his gut worsens. The exam room is empty when he checks, he doesn’t have any new pages or texts—it would be easy to pull Buck’s chart and find out if something happened, but that feels like it would cross a line when it’s not strictly necessary—

He shoots off a text of his own, but there’s still no reply by the time he’s showered and changed out of his scrubs.

It’s happenstance that he runs into Dr. Graves’ favorite resident outside the locker room.

“Hey, Cassie—Graves had a patient today, Evan Buckley? I did the intake, and I was wondering—”

“Oh, he was admitted,” she says. “Room 312, I think.”

Eddie’s stomach drops. Sometimes he hates being right.

“Thanks,” he says faintly. She gives him a distracted hum, preoccupied by responding to a text, and Eddie heads to the elevators.

“Hey,” he greets a few minutes later, leaning against the doorway in Buck’s room. His hands are shoved in his pockets and he’s not entirely sure whether to cross the threshold.

Buck looks…tired. Frustrated. Upset. Raw. He tries to cover it when he sees Eddie, but it doesn’t fully work.

Eddie’s heart aches.

“Blood clots,” Buck sighs with a rueful shrug. “On the screws in my leg. They said it was lucky they caught it before one broke off and traveled anywhere, or it could have killed me. Guess you saved my life, Nurse Diaz.”

“Well…” Eddie weighs his hesitation against his desire to be closer and ultimately pushes off the doorframe to step inside. “You are my favorite patient. Who else is going to bring me coffee if you died?”

“Oh, I’m sure a lot of people would be more than happy to do that,” Buck replies. “I’m picturing a line around the block here.”

Eddie settles into the chair next to the bed.

“I think you’re vastly overestimating there, but—” Eddie wets his lips as he meets Buck’s gaze. Fuck, he’s not good at this, but he would do just about anything to bring Buck’s smile back. “—but, for whatever it’s worth, I wouldn’t want anyone else to.”

“Because I’m your favorite patient?” The look in Buck’s eyes is hopeful but wary, the kind of look that says despite his easy flirtations, he’s been burned before and expects to be again. And maybe it’s that honest vulnerability that finally unsticks Eddie’s tongue because when he opens his mouth to respond, what comes out is—

“You’re not just a patient, Buck. Not to me. You have to know that.”

“Do I?”

The skepticism feels like a challenge and Eddie rises to it by leaning in—he slides his fingers into Buck’s hair and closes the gap, kissing him once, twice, as Buck makes a startled sound against his lips and curls his own fingers into Eddie’s shirt to kiss him back.

“I don’t do that with just anyone,” Eddie breathes when he pulls back. “And I definitely don’t let them meet my son. Clear enough?”

Buck clears his throat, and nods, flushed and a little dazed in a way that makes Eddie bite back a grin.

“Speaking of, I have to go pick him up, but…” Eddie steals another kiss. “I’ll come see you tomorrow? And maybe we can…talk about this a little more?”

“I’d like that,” Buck admits. “And—Eddie—I—” His throat works as he swallows.

“Thank you,” he says finally. “For not letting me brush it off.”

Eddie’s thumb rubs against the edge of Buck’s jaw before he finally drops his hand.

“I care about you. Part of that means wanting to see you care about yourself,” he replies. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

Buck looks like he might argue with that, but ultimately just tugs Eddie in for one final kiss before releasing him.

“Tell Christopher I said hi.”

“I will.”

#chapel writes #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #you're all horrible enablers

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twilightprince101 · 4 years

Text

So I made an SCP entry for Bugsnax...

I thought with the ending and all of the disturbing stuff that this game has, it would fit perfectly with SCP stuff. Not to mention, there has to be an SCP equivalent in the Grumpus world. GCP? SGP? SCG? I dunno man, have some horror writing about muppets.

SCP-3470: Sentient Sustenance

[Heavy spoilers for Bugsnax ending]

Item #: SCP-3470 aka “Snaktooth Island”

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Due to its nature of being a landmass the most SCP teams can do is obscure its location to the populus. Efforts have been made to create rumors of numerous shipwrecks--akin to SCP-605 “Bermuda Triangle”--to deter the public from exploring the location. If unauthorized ships are witnessed crossing into the restricted zone, they are to be terminated immediately. Addendum: Due to the recent insubordination of Dr. [REDACTED]. All authorized personnel that enter or exit SCP-3470 are to be subjected to a rigorous screening process to ensure that no instances of SCP-3470-A are brought out of the restricted area without B Class Permission or higher. Further precautions being considered are a 10 minute test in which personnel seeking access to SCP-3470 are to be placed into an empty room with an instance of SCP-3470-A. If SCP personnel show any signs of wishing to consume SCP-3470-A, they are to be removed from the team immediately. Permission from Professor [REDACTED]. Is awaiting approval.

Description: SCP-3470 is a large landmass off of the coast of [REDACTED]. Spanning 50 mi^2 and nearing 1.5 mi in height. Several sections of SCP-3470 are flux in weather patterns, ranging from lush forests to arid deserts in the span of 3 miles. Although similar in appearance to locations such as [REDACTED]. And [REDACTED]. , further research concludes that flora are substantially different in chemical composition, containing traces of [REDACTED]. Which was only recently discovered. Due to this, nearly all flora encompassing the island are inedible, as digestion induces hazardous effects ranging from intense stomach pains to spastic vomiting.

The most significant aspect of SCP-3470 are various instances of sentient life, which are to be referred to as SCP-3470-A-[1-100]. SCP-3470-A take appearances of common food items, such as SCP-3470-A-1 [“Strabby”] taking the form of a ripe red strawberry with what appear to be dollar store googly-eyes [all instances of SCP-3470-A share the final trait]. All instances of SCP-3470-A vary in physique, behavioral patterns and similarities to their respective food item. Each instance also appears to have a “name” that it repeats ad nauseum despite not having observable mouths or vocal chords, making them easier to classify. Chemically however all are similar, containing faint traces of [REDACTED]. . This can be witnessed upon any attempt to alter SCP-3470-A instances from their base form, dissolving into an unknown inedible fluid, losing sentience in the process.

Due to SCP-3470’s flora being inedible, SCP-3470-A instances become the landmass’s only source of sustenance. Consumption of SCP-3470-A induces a drastic and instance side-effect of modifying the consumer’s limbs, thereby becoming SCP-3470-B. The limbs of SCP-3470-B instances vary depending on the instance of SCP-3470-A that has been consumed, alongside how many instances have been consumed prior to said event. Fundamentally however, all limbs modified take on the appearance of whatever the SCP-3470-A instance was impersonating. The more instances a subject consumes the more of their body transforms, beginning with the hands and feet and extending to the entire torso and face. The internal functions of the body remain intact along with full autonomous control, however the structure and physique of transformed limbs change drastically, such as an SCP-3470-B instance’s arm transforming into a banana after consuming an instance of SCP-3470-A-12 [“Banooper”]. These transformations subside in time [correlating to amount of SCP-3470-A instances consumed], with SCP-3470-B limbs reverting back to their original state, containing faint traces of [REDACTED].

Addendum 3470-B: Increased Exposure

Proceeding with experimentation with SCP-3470-A instances under Prof. [REDACTED]. , extended exposure and consumption of SCP-3470-A instances results in increasing addictive tendencies and side effects. File below contains audio files of experiments with Personnel D-125.

Dr. [REDACTED].: D-Class 125, approach SCP 3470-A-45.

D-125: What is…? Ok, seriously what the grump is this??? Like, I signed up for this expecting a lot of horrifying stuff, but-did someone slap googly-eyes on a piece of corn?!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : 125, please approach SCP-3470-A-45.

D-125: Yeah, yeah, alright. So… (to A-45 after approach), what are you supposed to be then? Did Dr. [REDACTED]. Have their kid put their arts and crafts project on display or-

A-45: Cobhopper!

D-125: GRUMPIN WHA- IT JUST TALKED?! IT MOVED IT’S LOOKING AT ME!!!

Dr. [REDACTED].: (whispering) so much for being the ‘toughest D-class around… ‘

D-125: So you’re telling me I just… eat it? The eyes too?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Correct. Do not worry, upon further testing the eyes seem to be made of a material akin to valentine’s candy hearts (lie).

D-125: Huh… alright then. Down the hatch, I guess?

Sounds of eating, cries of A-45

Dr. [REDACTED]. : D-125, describe the flavor.

D-125: It’s… good actually! I was honestly expecting the insides to be guts or poison or something, but it’s actually pretty good! Nice and buttered to, a bit of salt? Reminds me of my mom’s barbeque.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : And the sensation of your leg transforming?

D-125: Huh? (125 looks down and notices their leg transformed into a head of corn). Oh… Well this is pretty cool I guess.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Any uncomfortable sensations?

D-125: Not really no. It’s weird… I can still feel my toes, but it’s like a peg leg. Actually, I think I can see a few kernels wiggling if I try. Neat!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Is… that it?

D-125: Yeah I think so, *chuckles,* this is actually pretty cool!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Hmm… (To recorder) Despite initial panic from witnessing A-45, subject D-125 has adjusted to transformation with record pace. Further research required.

D-125: Heya doc!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Greetings D-125. Have you adjusted to recent transformations?

D-125: Yeah it’s been going alright. The pineapple hair is a pretty nice dew all things considered, and the bacon tongue makes me look like a snake. I like it!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Pleased to hear it. Now, approach SCP-3470-A-52.

D-125: Alright, what’s on the menu today then? Who’re you little guy?

A-52: Sodi-D Sodi-D!

D-125: Huh, a drink this time. Change of pace I guess.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Please consume A-52.

D-125: Right away ma’am. Sir. Whatever.

Sound of soda can opening and drinking, cries of A-52.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : (To recorder) Upon the first drop of A-52’s fluid, transformation has already occurred, transforming the subject's ears into what appear to be soda can tabs. No further transformations appear to occur on consecutive gulps-wha (To D-125) Sir?!

Sounds of crunching, further cries of A-52, then silence.

D-125: Not bad! I don’t usually drink soda, beer’s more my thing personally, but it was pretty sweet! Just the right amount of sugar. And hey, new accessory!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : ...D-125, why did you eat A-52’s shell?

D-125: Huh?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : The… the can. Nobody has attempted to consume the can.

D-125: Oh. Uh…

Silence for 7 seconds

D-125: I dunno, I guess since the eyes were edible on the other guys, I thought the can would be here? Wasn’t too hard to eat, kinda like biting into ice. Didn’t hurt.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Very… interesting. This will be recorded for future experiments, thank you D-125.

D-125: No prob. And hey, call me Chuffee.

D-125: Hehey, candy corn teeth! Pretty sharp too, should make eating these things even easier!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : D-125, you’re nearing complete bodily transformation. Have you been experiencing any discomfort as of late? Any anomalies?

D-125: Nope, in fact I feel great! I used to have this crink in my back for the longest time, but now it’s gone! I’m more limber than I’ve been in ages!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Fascinating… very well then, thank you for your time.

D-125: ...wait, what? That’s it?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Hm?

D-125: There isn’t any more left? I thought there would be a bit more.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : *sigh,* D-125, we’ve went over this last time. We cannot give you more than one instance a day due to 3470-A’s high caloric count. The instance you just ate was over twenty th-

D-125: You know you keep saying that. Didn’t you guys want to really figure out what’s with these things? When I ate that soda can you said yourself that nobody’s tried that before, so let’s go further! I’m still hungry anyways, I’m craving a burger if you got any like that.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Sir, please exit the room. I cannot give you any more than what I am authorized.

D-125: ……..You know, it’s interesting how your window is so high up there. I can hardly see you.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : ...excuse me?

D-125: You heard me [REDACTED]. , I can barely see you from down here. You can see exactly how I change, the new stuff I get… but I can’t see yours.

Silence for 15 seconds.

D-125: I know you’re holding out on me up there [REDACTED]. .

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Sir, I’ve told you countless times already. I can’t give you any more than I’m authorized.

D-125: (Sarcasm) Oh yeah, suuure. For all I know you guys are feasting away on these things up there, while leaving me for dust! Like seriously, a single popcorn kernel?! That’s it?!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Sir, that is all I can give you today. Please exi-

Sound of a door opening

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Wh- Professor [REDACTED]. ?

Professor [REDACTED]. : Hello D-125.

D-125: Oh great, another snob to tell me what to do. If you aren’t gonna feed me, then just shut up already! My stomach’s growling like crazy, and I’m not leaving until I get my meal!

Professor [REDACTED]. : Not to worry D-125, I’m fully prepared to grant your wish.

D-125: ...wait, really?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Professor, what are you-

Professor [REDACTED]. : I listened to the log of your previous meal, and you raised a good point. If we at the SCP foundation wish to fully understand what these creatures are capable of, we must push the boundaries of what we believe are possible. So then…

(Sound of metal grinding, several overlapping cries of SCP-3470-A instances)

D-125: Oh, my…

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Professor, what are you doing?

Professor [REDACTED]. : Eat until you can’t eat anymore. Consider it my treat, to you.

D-125: Ooohohohohoooo yes!!! Now we’re talking!!! Come to papa little guys!!!

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject so far has consumed 34 instances of 3470-A. Since consuming number 21 he has shown increased signs of vigor, despite eating half of his body mass.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Professor, please, stop him. This is-

Professor [REDACTED]. : (continuing) Upon complete transformation of limbs to SCP 3470-B instances, any further consumption appears to override a prior one. His leg, previously resembling a head of corn has transformed now into a roll of sushi. His tongue, once a strip of bacon, now a wad of chips.

D-125: (While eating) Mmmph! Oh my god, what are you a jar of pickles! More the merrier!

Sound of sloppy gulping, glass crunching, cries of SCP-3470-A-35

D-125: Ooogh, some noodles too! Love japanese food!

Sounds of rapid slurping, rapid glass crunching and licking.

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject appears to have increased vigor in consuming 3470-A instances, not leaving a single crumb or shard left uneaten. A query: what is the chemical makeup of instances contained in glass jars or bowls? The bowls themselves? Further research required.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee please, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!

Rapid, feral sounds of crunching and slurping.

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject has now eaten approximately eaten 1.5 times his body mass yet continues to feat, now with no regards for table manners whatsoever. I have already called for a janitor to wait outside.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee stop!! You-

Laughter, slowly increasing in volume

D-125: This!! This is the best I’ve eaten in my entire life!!!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee please-O-oh… oh my-

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject’s left ear has disconnected itself from its host. There appear to be no signs of blood or even markings indicating he has had one at all-there goes a tooth!

D-125: Hooooh I knew you all were holding back on me!!! This stuff is delicious, amazing, spectacular!!! I’ll never go hungry again, no more rotting on the streets!!! This is all mine, you hear me?! Mine, MINE, MINE!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

Laughter continues for several seconds, sounds of objects falling to floor as volume slowly decreases, ending with a loud clatter.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Ch-Chuffee, I- urp!

Sound of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject, after eating nearly twice his body mass, has had each limb separate from his core torso one by one, now fully resembling their respective food items, until his eyes transformed into SCP-3470-B instance, resembling the mixed nuts that made up his head. Soon after, his torso and head fell apart, scattering into mixed-nuts. I can not recognize Subject D-125 in the slurry.

More sounds of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED]. : These results are quite fascinating. Further research is required into these various side effects. End tape.

#bugsnax #scp #scp foundation #bugsnax spoilers #secure contain protect #my writing #my writings #twi talks #spoilers #((I love writing fucked up stuff like this))#tw horror #tw body horror #body horror #horror

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navalcriminalimagines · 4 years

Text

i’m entering @thatesqcrush Valentine’s Bingo!! It’s my first time and I hope this is good! It covers the “Oral sex” square! Enjoy!

Rafael Barba x Reader

Prompt: a very much needed drunk night turns into a hookup

Warnings: smut, drunk sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), p in v, fingering

Words: 4,223

sorry for the typos...

Drunk in love

Shutting you down and pushing you away was Rafael Barba’s new activity. Not that he wants to but he has to. He doesn’t know why or how he had let himself fall for you, especially since one of the first things he noticed on you was your wedding band. He never saw your husband but Elias - or whatever his name is - seems pretty real, and according to Mike Dodds, he’s “twice our size”.

But god you’re so beautiful. And young, clever, nice, funny. You have everything a man can dream in someone, but somehow, you’re still very insecure about yourself. He sees it when you look at him or Liv for approval when you have a break in a case, or how you sometimes belittle yourself when the guys tease you. He knew how insecure you are when you blushed after he complimented you. He didn’t attend to at first, but when he saw you in the little green dress that showed off your curves so perfectly, he couldn’t help but to say, ”who’s that gorgeous woman and what have you done with my detective?”

Rafael still curses himself for saying so. You have been acting differently since then, you’re less talkative, more shutdown. You probably know now about his crush on you and you’re just keeping your distance. Just like he tried at first.

But you’re one very stubborn woman. He could snap at you one day and you’d greet him the next one with a smile, like nothing happened. He hates you for it. You’re pulling up with him and he doesn’t know why. Why would you? He’s the worst. And you’re fucking married.

Rafael hates to admit it, but he’s a little jealous of Mike Dodds and Sonny Carisi. Especially Mike. He knows partners have a very special relationship, that you have to trust each other with your lives. But he gets to hug you, spend so much time with you, to go out to bars or restaurants with you. He knows there’s nothing romantic in that relationship, but sometimes he wishes he’s the one you hug, out of nowhere. But he’s not. He’s just the weird and annoying ADA.

To stop thinking about you, Rafael Barba went back on tracks and met with a few people. Both men and women, it usually ends in a one night stand. And in the morning, he hates himself a little more because your face is the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. One night, a woman stopped him mid-sex, “My name’s Jane, not Y/N,” she exclaimed. Then she dressed back up and left.

There’s this woman he keeps seeing though. It’s mostly just sex, and he can’t complain about her talents in bed. Maybe he should take her on a date? Try to make this serious? Well, as serious as he can be, knowing that his world stops spinning every time he lays his eyes on you. He hates you.

*****

“Could you cover for me tonight and perhaps tomorrow morning?” you asked Mike, as you two were on a stakeout. Technically, Mike is your superior, but he’s also your partner and you can trust him, with everything.

“Only if you tell him why,” he answered.

“Elias told me he has a work thing out of town. I need to check,”

Mike already knows your doubts on your husband’s fidelity. It’s been building up for months now. Mike advised you to talk to him but you refused. You’re scared about what he may tell you.

“You’re finally following your doubts! Don’t you think talking to him would be better?”

“If I’m wrong, I’m gonna make a fool of myself,” you sighed, “And if I’m right-- I really don’t know how I’m gonna react, I can’t be facing him at that moment,”

“Fine,” the sergeant isn’t convinced it’s the right thing to do, but he knows better than to fight with you on that. “Do you want me to come with you?” he offered.

“Thanks, but no,” you kissed his cheek and focused back on your job.

*****

Your doubts and your fears become reality. Elias is cheating on you, with some gorgeous brunette, a little bit older than you. She looks like a model compared to you. And you can feel your heart breaking when he leans to kiss her passionately. It’s fucking real. You had doubts, but a part of you kept refusing to believe it. Elias was the man of your dreams, he’s your first love, your husband. You loved him with all your heart and he’s just-- a fucking asshole.

You drove all night long, without any destination. You showed up late at work - Mike had covered for you - and you went on with your life.

You lied to Mike, telling him that you were wrong and Elias was really away for work. To Elias? You didn’t say anything. You didn’t want to face it for now. You didn’t want to hear some lame excuses, or blaming. You didn’t want him to break your heart a little more. So everyday, for weeks, you went home, slept beside him, answered when he was talking to you, barely returned his kisses. There was no sex though. Lack of sex had been the starting point of your doubts. You did get tested however. You didn’t know if he’s using protections with her, or if there are other women, or whatever, so you had to be sure you had no STD. Luckily you didn’t.

*****

Rafael is tired of how cold you’re with him. He doesn’t know if you’re the same way with the rest of the squad, but you’re with him and it’s pissing him off. If it’s because of his crush on you, he wished you’d say so, he’d lie by telling you he’s seeing someone and that whatever he felt for you, it’s gone. And the ‘relationship’ could go back to normal.

Liv texted him to say you’re coming to get the warrant. He stopped working after he read the text. How can he bring it up to you? How can he throw the subject? Why is he that nervous anyway? Why does he care? You’re just a young detective he met a year prior. You don’t matter to him. You’re good at what you do, but in a few years, both of you will move on with your lives. And you won’t remember him. Ever. Why does he care?

“Hi Barba,” you entered his office after he told you to come in. He hates when you call him ‘Barba’. You usually go with his first name. Why did it change?

“Morning detective,” he answered, coldly, not looking up from his notepad. “Carmen should be back in five minutes with the warrant,”

“K. Can I get a coffee?”

He finally puts his pen down and looks up to you. You’re standing right across his desk, your hair is tied in a ponytail, you have those dark cargo pants that fit your curves so perfectly, and a blue NYPD sweater. “Can you wear that whenever you want?” he asked, pointing at your sweater.

“My shirt is in the trash with the biggest coffee stain on it. I stole this from Mike,”

It’s indeed a little loose for you. Your hands are mostly hidden in the sleeves and he can’t distinguish your breasts - not that he looks for it…

You move to the coffee pot and pour yourself a cup. You look over your shoulder, “Want some?” he nods and extends his empty cup to you.

“I can wait outside if you want,” you said, after you drank the coffee faster than he ever did.

“Take the couch, Y/N,”

Once you sat on his couch, Rafael sighed, stood up and sat next to you. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

You looked at him, confused. “About?”

“Me?” he offered. “I don’t know. Have I done something to upset you?”

You shyly smiled at that and Rafael’s heart melted. “It’s nothing to do with you, Rafael. I promise,” you briefly squeezed his hand and let it go. He wanted to grab it and never let it go.

“Then what is it? Something’s wrong with you,”

“If someone told me you’d be the first to notice, I would have laughed,” you giggled.

“Hmm… should I be offended by that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the outsider, you know. But we love you for that,”

“I don’t know who’s “we”, but it’s certainly not the SVU squad,” he kept going before you answered, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

You took you a very long moment to say it. A moment during which Rafael forgot how to breath. He was expecting many things, but not this. After that, it all happened so fast. You cried and leaned to your side until your face hit his chest. Unsure at first, he finally wrapped his arms around your shoulders and hugged you. His nose got buried in your hair and he knew it was the scent he wanted to smell for the rest of his life. He felt your hand on his pectoral, turning into a fist on his shirt. “I hate him,” you cried. “But I’m scared,”

“Scared of?” he softly kissed your hair.

“Being alone? Doing it all over again? Never meeting someone else?” you took a deep breath, “But I’m the most scared of why he did it,”

“There are no excuses, Y/N. I know what it feels like, I know you’re blaming yourself, thinking that it’s your fault, but it’s not,” he softly pulled you away to grab your face in his hands. He ran his thumbs on your cheeks to take the tears away and forced you to look at him. “He doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t deserve your tears,”

You nodded at that and tried to regain control as you both heard Carmen’s heels.

“Can I take you out for drinks tonight?” he offered before you left.

“Thank you, but I don’t want to be around people,”

“Ok, my place then?”

You nodded again, kissed his cheek and left with a shy “see you tonight”.

*****

After leaving the precinct, you quickly stopped at your shared apartment to change clothes. Elias was there, drinking a beer and making dinner, as if everything was okay. You barely greeted him and walked to the bathroom. You took a quick shower, changed into high-waisted ripped jeans, dark crop top and a flannel shirt. You redid your makeup, and let your long hair drop on your shoulders.

“Where are you going?” Elias asked, as you were putting your doc martens on.

“Out,” you answered coldly.

“I can see that. Work?”

“Nope,” you grabbed your keys.

“Should I wait for you?”

“No, don’t,”

And you were gone.

Rafael is stressed. He doesn’t know what to expect from that night. Probably nothing, you’re broken-hearted, you just need a night to relax and either talk about it and completely forget. He will give you that. He will be a good listener, you’ll have his shoulder to cry on if needed. He turned down the woman he’s seeing to spend the night with you. He didn’t give explanations, just said he has to work. She just answered “K.”, maybe she’s upset but he doesn’t care much.

When he opens his door, he forgets how to breath. You’re gorgeous in a very natural way. He lets you in his apartment, you’ve been there once, when you were his protection detail after he received death threats. You stayed up all night long to make sure he was okay and he felt so cared for, it warmed his heart in an unfamiliar way.

“Beer?” he offered.

“No, scotch. I need something strong tonight,”

You sit on his couch, tug your legs under your butt, just making comfortable. He comes back with two glasses of scotch, and offers you one. “I didn’t have time to cook but I ordered italian,”

“Thanks but you shouldn’t have. I’m not hungry,”

“If you don’t eat, you don’t drink. Your choice,” he smiled and you nodded.

Rafael is doing his best to stay friendly and not flirty, but after his fourth glass, he doesn’t control himself as much. There are empty containers on the coffee table, the bottle of scotch is getting empty. You’re laying against him, your body is so close to his, he can feel your body heat and smell your scent. “Your husband is such a dumbass,” he said and you turned to face him. “I mean-- that guy is married to--you. And he’s cheating on you? How stupid does it make him?”

“I’m not special,” you shrugged.

“I’m talking to Y/N Y/L/N, right? Cause that woman is special,”

“How so?”

“This. You don’t even realize how amazing you are. You blush when you get a compliment, you’re a badass when you’re with a perp, but you’re always looking for approval when you have an idea. You’re so smart and nice, and beautiful, and sweet, and--”

Rafael stopped when he heard you giggle. He laughed too, because your laugh always does that to him. “How drunk are you, Rafael?”

“Enough to tell you so, but no enough to lie about it,”

“Maybe I should forgive him,”

“Wait, what? No!” Rafael exclaimed and sat straight. “He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness! Why would you do that?” he didn’t expect his voice to be this high pitched.

“Because-- I won’t find someone else to put up with me,”

You sounded so dramatic, it made Rafael laugh. “You’re twenty seven, Y/N! You have so much time ahead,”

“Maybe but-- I’m not easy to live with, Rafa. I’m annoying, I work all the time, I don’t cook, I’m not good in bed, I--”

“Wow,” he exclaimed again to make you stop talking. “Is this how he made you feel?”

“No--yes. Maybe, I don’t know-- sex is… simple with him,” you paused, “But you probably don’t want to hear about my sex life,” you took a sip of your drink.

“I do. I mean-- it’s not about being good in bed. It’s about the connection, what two people are looking for,”

“What are you looking for in sex?”

“Depends. When it’s a one night stand, it’s mostly relief. Do I care about my partner’s pleasure? Yeah, sure but not as much as if I’m in love,”

“I wonder what it feels like one night with Rafael Barba,” you had a grin on your face, teasing him. You were drunk, but so was he.

“I can show you,”

Rafael didn’t expect you to react with a kiss, but you did. You awkwardly press your lips against his and Rafael froze for a second. But he deepened the kiss, cupping your face in his hand. He felt your tongue asking for access and he happily obliged. He laid down on the couch and you sat on his lap, never breaking the kiss. You feel like heaven. His hand settled on your bare skin between your jeans and your top before sliding under the crop top. Your hands did the same on his torso, sending shivers in his entire body.

He noticed when you arrived but now he has the confirmation; you aren’t wearing any bra and you have your nipples pierced. He groaned loudly when he felt your breasts in his palms, which made you smile against his mouth. “Does it hurt?” he asked when he started to play with your nipples.

“God no, I love it,” you sighed in pleasure. “Ever been with someone who has their nipples pierced?”

“No,” he growled, “Can I?” he asked before sucking on your nipple. You nodded and he almost assaulted your breasts. Nipples pierced is fucking amazing. Especially yours.

“I want to feel your skin,” you shyly requested and Rafael obliged. He let you take his tee-shirt off, tossing it on the floor. Your hands touched his body like he was a greek god. You kissed, sucked and bit his neck from a moment while he was softly thrusting his erection against your clothes center.

Rafael doesn’t control himself or his pleasure when he’s drunk. He’s scared that he may come so fast you won’t enjoy this moment with him. He held you against him and took you to the bedroom. You both undressed each other before laying down on the bed. Rafael drunk you in. You, completely naked on his bed. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He briefly kissed you before making his own down to your core. He gently bite your inner thigh before burying his tongue into you. You let out such a beautiful sound, it almost made him come on the spot. “You’re fucking delicious,” he growled.

“You--oh, you don’t have to do this, Rafael,” you said. But he was pleasuring you so good.

“Why wouldn’t I? This pussy is calling for my mouth,” his hot breath against your clit made you shiver, “You’re so wet, baby,” he returned to his oral ministrations.

Rafael ate you like a starved man. He gave everything he had to make you come on his face. He felt you tensed against him, your thigh held him in place. You cried his name, your nails on his scalp. He swallowed everything you had to give him.

“Wow-- fucking wow,” you chuckled as you tried to catch your breath.

“I know, I get that a lot,” he chuckled too, kissing you softly.

“Shut up, and fuck me now,”

“Hmm… someone’s desperate for my cock?”

“I’ve never been this turned on, Rafael. What did you do to me?”

“Ever had an orgasm from someone’s mouth?”

“Nah-- and I don’t want to talk about it. Just get inside me, please,”

He kissed you passionately again, and got on top of you. You felt his hard cock against your stomach, before he lined himself with you. “Do you want it?” he wanted you to beg. “How much do you want my cock, hermosa?”

“So much!” you tried to make his cock slide into you but Rafael held you still, “Please, Rafael. I want you-- I want you inside me,”

He didn’t need more. He slid into you in one slow motion. You both gasped at the feeling. His size hurt a little at first but you’re used to keep a straight face during sex. But somehow, Rafael felt it. “Are you okay?” He asked, not moving.

“Just getting used to your size,” you giggled.

“Lo siento, I got carried away. Let me—“

He tried to pull out off you but your hands held onto his ass, “don’t you dare go away, Barba,” he giggled and stayed deep inside you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered before kissing you.

When you gave him permission to move, he started slow. He needed to control his pleasure. It was deep and slow, and every sound you made was music to his ear. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hand above your head, kissing you roughly. “Do you want to switch positions?” You asked, out of nowhere.

“Fuck no. I wanna see your face while I make you come,”

For a moment, he was self conscious of what was going on. Whatever sex was with your husband, it was mostly to pleasure that bastard. He probably didn’t care much about you during sex, about what pleased you, about your kinks if you have some. This might be his only night with you, and he wants you to know what real sex and pleasure are.

When he felt you were close to your orgasm, he quickly pulled out and buried two fingers into your pussy. You didn’t have time to react about the sudden changes, you cum - for the second time - hard on his fingers.

“Why the hell did you pull out?” You asked, confused, as you tried to catch your breath.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he said with a malicious smile. He kissed you again, taking his time - to be fair, he’s mostly trying to calm himself down - to plant kisses all over you, worshipping your perfect body.

“Rafael, what the—“ you gasped. His face was between your legs again. His tongue found its way easily to your most sensitive spot. You were worn down, but so sensitive a third orgasm wasn’t far away. But you pulled his hair to make him stop. You saw something in his eyes. “Someone likes to get his hair pulled,” you giggled.

“I didn’t know actually, but yeah,” he licked his lips, “However, if you pull my face away from your pussy again, I’ll have to punish you,”

His words, the way he talks to you sends something into you. Something you ever felt before. Maybe you’re into punishment. And dirty talk. Maybe you aren’t bad in bed, you just weren’t with the right person.

Rafael was about to go back at it again, but your voice stopped him. “I want to go down on you,”

“You will, babygirl. For now, it’s about you,”

He did pull a third orgasm out of you. He’s so fucking talented with his tongue and fingers. He knows what to do, when to do it. “You’ll be the death of me,” you said, trying again to catch your breath, tiredly playing with his chest hair.

“Sounds good,” he buried his face in your neck and marked you. He didn’t care about tomorrow, about what your husband might say when he sees it. Tonight, you’re his and no one else’s. “Do you really want to suck my cock or do you feel like you have to?” He asked, his eyes locked into yours.

“I want to,” you eagerly answered, regaining some strength suddenly.

You sat up while Rafael laid down on his back. You took his cock in your hand, his hips jerking at the feeling. He probably won’t last long. But he can still recover and do it all over again. “You okay?” He asked, as you were taking a long moment just looking and stroking his length.

“Yeah,” you shyly smiled, “Just promise me something, please?”

He would promise you the fucking universe. “Tell me?”

“If—if I’m not good, just make me stop, okay? Don’t blame me after,”

Rafael saw tears in your eyes. He immediately grabbed you and pulled you next to him. His erection can wait. He softly kissed your cheeks and lips. “I’m not...him,” he said, “Like I said earlier, it’s about the connection between two persons. I feel connected to you, do you feel the same?”

You nodded, trying to stop your tears. “That’s all that matters. You could break my penis, sending me to the ER, I’d thank you for it,”

He felt proud when you laughed, he kissed you. He could never get enough of your lips. “I trust you, Y/N. Only thing I don’t want is you going down on me just because you feel like you have to,”

“I want to suck you off, Rafael,” you purred in his ear after a moment.

His cock softened during that talk, but it reacted to that. You kissed his body, trailing your way down to his penis. You licked the tip, tasting some pre-cum. You looked at him to catch his reactions, but you saw nothing but desire and pleasure. When he was painfully hard, you took him in your mouth. Rafael almost came right here and there, it took everything he had not to. You slowly suck his cock, until you quicken the rhythm. “You’re so—good, baby. You know how to use that mouth,” he praised you. When he saw you smiling against his length, he made a mental note about you loving to be praised.

You cupped his balls in your hand, and took him all the way down your throat, “I’m gonna—amor, fuck! I’m gonna cum,” he expected you to pull away but instead, you kept the pace until Rafael came hard in your month, chanting your name. He didn’t know he could be this loud. You made a show of swallowing every drop of him. “Mierda,” he muttered, drying his sweating forehead with the back of his hand.

“Can men fake orgasm? Cause you were fucking loud,” you giggled before kissing him.

“Shut up, that was—amazing,” he looked deep inside your eyes. “You are amazing, Y/N,”

He didn’t have time to fuck you again, you both quickly fell asleep after.

Much to Rafael’s surprise, he woke up to the warmth of your mouth around his cock. He had a wide smile when he saw your eyes full of desire, while your mouth was perfectly sucking on his cock. He lazily grabbed your hair, giving a few thrusts. But he didn’t know how you’d feel about facefuck so he let you lead. It didn’t take long until he came down your throat again, still as loud as a few hours prior. “You will be the death of me,”

He invited you in the shower so he could finally fuck you properly. When you came on his cock, your walls clenching around his length, it was the most beautiful feeling in the world.

This couldn’t be a one night stand. There’s a connection, either of you can deny. He will spend weeks, months, even years to show you he’s worth an Elias or any other man.

#thatesqcrushvdaybingo #rafael barba #rafael barba smut #rafael barba imagine #law and order svu

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

More Than Today (Richard Winters x Reader)

So this has been in my wips for MONTHS. But here we are! I know its also been a hot minute since I’ve written any BOB fics. Sorry, friends. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a couple swear words (thanks Nixon)

Words: 2750

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby @sydney-m @saritanotserena

Paris.

City of Light.

City of Love.

Dick Winters just wished the soldier behind him would stop bumping his chair as he laughed at another dirty joke.

It had not been his idea to be here. Apparently Sink thought he needed a break. Nixon and Welsh ganged up on him, practically forcing him to pack his bag and get on the train.

Now that he was here though….it was nice.

He would never admit how many steaming, hot baths he had taken since finding his hotel room. Plus, sleeping in a real, soft bed- his bones sang with joy at the reprieve from the hard, army cot it had been subjected to for years now.

Tomorrow morning he was supposed to be leaving. His last 24 hours in Paris. Truthfully, he had done nothing, just rest. Both physically and mentally. He knew if he returned without having visited some kind of touristy place, both Nixon and Welsh would be furious. Though, he would have to have a conversation with Nix. It was not until Dick started unpacking that he found the box of condoms Nix must have slipped into his bag when he was not looking.

Sometimes he wondered why he put up with the man. Even that thought made him smile. Somehow him and Nix, they just clicked. Completely polar opposites but maybe that was what allowed their friendship to take root and grow.

The soldier behind Dick laughed loudly, rocking his chair back with the movement and knocking into Dick once again. He grimaced, just saving himself from spilling coffee onto his Class A uniform. He knew he outrank the man behind him and all his friends, he could easily say something…. but that seemed like a battle not worth fighting.

He quickly finished his small cup of coffee, relishing the actual bitter taste of the drink verse the watery stuff the army supplied. Standing up, he pulled out the change from his pocket, ready to leave a tip for the nice waitress.

"There you are!" A feminine voice called out with a distinctly British accent.

Dick lifted his head, knowing she was not talking to him but still curious. But then the strangest thing happened. He looked up and met her eyes as she walked past the few other tables. A blinding smile lit up her face and he felt his heartbeat stutter at how beautiful it was. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others sitting around watching her with interest but her eyes remained solely focused on him.

When she came to his side, she gently placed a hand on his forearm and lifted up slightly on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'm so sorry I am late, love. I lost track of time. Do we still have time for a cup or shall we go?" She easily asked, as she slid down into the extra chair at the table.

He stood frozen for a moment, his mind questioning everything that just happened. Thankfully, his body went on autopilot and he sat back down in his chair. "Uh…. it’s fine."

"Lovely!" She beamed, waving a hand to get the attention of the waitress.

As he stared at her, his mind finally seemed to feel the tension hidden just below the surface of her overly-sunny disposition. Her hands laid in her lap, a white-knuckle grip on her small purse though. A friendly smile remained on her face but her eyes kept shifting warily over to the other side of the street, like prey keeping a predator in its peripheral.

Confused and now concerned, he peered over to where her eyes kept shooting. Two men stood across the street watching her with sullen expressions. Their uniforms informed him they were US army, the chevrons on their sleeves stated they were both sergeants.

Dick turned back to her and lowered his voice, even though he guessed over the noise of those around him, the men would not hear. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

"Wait." She said sharply, even though her smile never faltered. Then the waitress approached and the woman ordered a cup of tea with enthusiasm. Dick found himself ordering another cup of coffee per her insistence.

Finally, the waitress walked away, having had a brief conversation about the lovely color of lipstick she wore with the woman across from him after taking their orders.

It was then the woman peeked across the street once more. Whatever she saw, Dick watched the tension ease out of her. He glanced over to see the two men making their way back down the street.

"Bloody hell." She muttered, dropping her face in her hands.

"Are you alright? Were those men bothering you?"

"Mmm? Oh, no, well yes. They kept following me even after I told them I was meeting my fiancé. I am so terribly sorry I dragged you into this, it was either find someone to pretend to be my fiancé or find an alley nearby and stab them. I quite like this dress and would prefer not to get blood on it today."

He just stared at her, unsure how to take her answer. He would have thought it was a joke but with the way she casually answered, as if stating the sky was blue, he assumed she was serious. "Um, right." He coughed, not quite sure where to take the conversation from there. Luckily, she seemed to notice.

"Is there somewhere you need to go? I truly am sorry for holding you up. I'll pay for your coffee when the waitress returns, it's the least I can do. Don't feel like you have to stay here just for me."

"No, no. It's alright, ma'am. I was just…." His voice trailed off.

She smiled softly at him, folding her hands in her lap. "Are you stationed here in Paris?"

At that moment, the waitress returned with their ordered drinks.

"No." He answered her prior question, watching her take a sip from her cup. His own cup sat between his hands but he felt no need to drink it yet. "My CO demanded I take a 72-hour pass."

"Mmm….so you are one of those?" She laughed lightly at the look of confusion on his expressive face. "A CO who actually cares about his men, focuses on making sure they are taken care of, instead of spending time with the other officers wasting all his money on booze and women."

"Um…." He could feel a warmth spreading over his face. Hoping to hide it, he brought his cup to his lips and took a sip.

"It's alright, sir. We need more officers like you in this damn war. What's your name?"

That he could easily answer. "Lieutenant Dick Winters, Easy Company, 506th, Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airbourne."

"Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Winters. I'm y/n y/l/n. So Airbourne, hmmm? I've heard about you. Tell me about your training."

And somehow Dick found himself telling her about Currahee, about the jumps at Mackall, the field drills in Upottery, even laughing about Sobel's antics with her.

Eventually, their cups ran dry.

"Where are you off to now?" She asked pleasantly.

Dick answered honestly, feeling relaxed in her presence. "I'm not sure."

"Well, it so happens I was on my way to visit the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure."

Dick insisted on paying for both of their drinks, claiming his mother would read him the riot act if he allowed a woman to pay for her own. As they walked away from the cafe, she slipped her arm through his like they had done it a million times. Instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable at the unexpected physical touch, he found himself smiling down at her.

What started off as a day without any intended plan, just enjoying not being on the front line or behind a desk writing reports, became one of the most enjoyable days of his life. After the Cathedral, they wandered along the Seine, stopping at any shop or attraction that caught their eye. She regaled him with different facts or histories of places they saw and other locations in Paris. Before the war, she had spent some time in Paris and now, having returned as a translator, she felt it was even more important to remember those things that the Nazis tried so hard to destroy.

Soon conversations turned to their own experiences at home, his in Pennsylvania and hers in London. The more they talked, the more he found himself attracted to her beyond the physical. She was a breath of fresh air amongst the smog of war. A ray of sunshine to remind him that above the dark clouds of War, the sun still resided. But even if the day was spent in laughter and companionship, a war still brewed outside. A painful reminder to what Dick's priorities should be. So, he promised himself that he would enjoy her company now, but once he left Paris, he would put her out of his mind. His men and the war came first.

As night settled over the city, they walked side by side back to her hotel. It was not too far from his own, thus he refused to listen to her protests and told her he would escort her back for her own safety.

"Well, this is me." She stopped in front of the lovely hotel. "Thank you for escorting me."

"It's the least I can do. You spent the whole day being my tour guide."

"That sounds dreadfully boring. But you'll have stories to share with that Nixon friend of yours. Though he may be more impressed if you bring him back a vintage bottle of wine."

"No, he only drinks Vat 69. Lord knows where the man keeps finding the stuff."

"Besides your footlocker?"

"Yeah, besides that." He chuckled at her jest and the mischievous smile on her face. As they stood there, smiling at one another, he found himself wishing they had more time. That perhaps he had met her before or after the war and had been able to court her properly. For now though, he would cherish their time together. "Thank you for today."

Her smile held a hint of sadness in it, as if she lamented their separation just as much as he did. "I pray our paths will cross again."

"Goodnight, y/n."

"Goodnight, Dick."

He stepped back, lingering a moment longer to gaze at her. After, he turned and started to walk away. The hour was late and they both needed to sleep. It was less than 8 hours until his train was to depart in the morning and he knew it would be wise to enjoy his soft bed one more time before returning to a hard, army cot.

"Dick!"

He spun around, surprised to see her walking towards him, her heels clicking loudly on the sidewalk.

"Is everything alright?"

Without acknowledging his question, she pressed her lips to his in an eager kiss. Dick liked to consider himself a gentleman, never to take advantage of anyone, especially a woman. In this moment though, as all thoughts fled under her touch, his body reacted on instinct. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him while their lips parted, deepening the kiss. She moaned into his mouth, tasting like the wine she sipped on at dinner, her hands tightly gripping the lapels of his uniform. Heat coursed through his body as their tongues tangled together. He felt hypnotized, unable to pull away, to maintain propriety. Nor did he want too. She nipped at his bottom lip and his knees almost buckled underneath him. This moment was pleasure and fire, something he never experienced before….and something he wanted to revisit over and over with her.

After only a second and eternity combined, they both pulled back with swollen lips and breathless. Rising on her toes, she gave him a quick peck on the lips, a single flame compared to the bonfire they just lavished themselves in. Swiftly, she stepped back, running her hands over her dress.

"Goodnight…. don’t tell Nixon about this."

He nodded, almost shyly, mind still reeling from their shared passion. "Yes, ma'am."

With a playful, flirty wink, she twirled around and headed back towards her hotel, her heels clicking loudly on the ground.

Dick watched her walk away, lips still tingling and residual flames teasing his nerves. His eyes traced over her form, hoping to memorize it, to be able to always savor this moment. Looking up to the heavens, he silently prayed that one day, their paths would cross, one day he could perhaps pursue her, one day he could feel her lips against his again.

*****

"So, you still haven't said much about your time in Paris." Nixon prodded, sipping from his canteen that certainly was not water. The intelligence officer had been relentlessly interrogating his friend about his pass for the past week.

Dick rolled his eyes, not even glancing over. "Not much to say, Nix."

"You had to have done something! Come on! It's Paris!"

"I saw the Notre-Dame."

"Hey, that's something. Stop pressing him, Nix." Welsh butted in with his typical lazy grin. He reclined in the extra chair next to Nixon. "He did return the condoms."

"For Pete's sake." Dick muttered as he listened to the two men laugh. He stood looking out the window of his office, overlooking Easy Company below being drilled by Lieutenant Dike. Again. There was something to be said about being prepared but this went beyond that.

"Harry, how long have they been out there now?" He asked, not removing his gaze from his men.

Welsh sighed, glancing at the clock. "About two hours now."

"Right, come on. Let's go relieve them."

The other two scrambled to their feet, following Dick out of his office and down through the labyrinth of the HQ building. Lieutenant Dike had come with high expectations but the more Dick watched the man, the more worried he became.

"You're too soft on them." Nixon teased, trailing behind him.

Dick gave a quick salute to some officers they passed, never missing a step as he responded. "They aren't learning anything by marching back and forth out there besides ways to murder their CO."

"Was that a joke? Holy fuck. Did you hear that, Harry? Dick made a joke! Paris changed you."

"I heard. Still in shock." Welsh deadpanned.

Dick sighed good-naturedly as they stepped outside the building. Slipping his cap on, he started in the direction of his newest Lieutenant. The footsteps of his companions falling in step behind him.

"Dick!"

His feet screeched to a halt. He knew that voice. Whipping around, he was greeted by the sight of her. Someone he thought he would never truly see again. A beautiful, blinding smile on her face as she hurried towards him. His heart rapidly pounded within his chest, giving away his shock and joy at seeing her.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" He could not help sweeping his eyes over her, surprised to see her in a WAC uniform. Though it did nothing to diminish her beauty.

"I was asked to be a translator and help with deciphering coded messages." She answered casually as if she had not just revolutionized his world. Standing in front of him, she motioned to the army camp around them. "Is this where you are stationed?"

"Yeah, yeah, it is."

"Oh, that's lovely. We'll be able to see each other again. I am late for a meeting otherwise I'd love to chat. Could I see you tomorrow for a cuppa?"

"Um, sure. Yes."

"Perfect. I'll find you in the afternoon." She raised up on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the lips, causing his mind to short-circuit. "It's good seeing you, Dick."

With that she spun on her heel and sashayed away, leaving all three men standing there shocked.

"Who was that?" Nixon demanded, gaze never leaving her retreating form.

"Y/n…. I met her in Paris."

Nixon smacked him on the arm. "You bastard, you said nothing happened there."

"Nothing happened." Dick tried to defend, even if the excuse sounded weak in his own ears. Besides, for him, something certainly did happen.

"Probably should have kept those condoms, Dick." Welsh said, clapping him on the shoulder with a chuckle.

And for a brief moment, Dick wondered if he was right.

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagines #richard winters #dick winters #richard winters x reader #dick winters x reader #lewis nixon #harry welsh #mzwrites

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strawberrywindow · 2 years

Text

the jen and emil train is still going strong in my mind, strong enough that i pumped out a fic woohoo. no idea if this will be in any way canon compliant or in character by the time we see the show but it was a fun thing to write regardless.

jen and emil have a chat the day before the trial is to start. thanks for reading if you do and i hope you enjoy!

----

When she steps through the heavily armored doors into the holding room he’s already standing, waiting for her in his containment cell with a smirk plastered on his face as usual. She sighs quietly as she continues towards him without pause; she’s figured out by now that any hesitation gives him an in. A sign that it’s apparently an appropriate time to belittle and mock her. Resolution has the opposite effect. Or close enough to it that he becomes slightly less obnoxious than usual. After all, he’s standing to greet her now, isn’t he? A far cry from several weeks prior when every time after her initial visit she had entered to find him slouched in the chair in the middle of his cell, pretending not to notice her until she was right in front of the glass. If he was in a particularly pleasant mood he might even pretend not to hear her the first two or three times she said his name, only to finally look up at her with an expression just a bit too smug to be as neutral as he intends and murmur out an “Oh, sorry, darlin,’ didn’t see you there.”

The standing is definitely an improvement. The constant smirking and incessant need to call her by names anything other than what she’s asked, that being Ms. Walters or Jen, if he must, would also be nice changes to see but she isn’t in the habit of asking for miracles and she doesn’t plan on starting just because Emil Blonsky has an incredible talent for getting under her skin. She comes to a stop in front of him, reinforced glass and lasers between them. She offers him a wry smile before greeting him.

“Good morning, Emil.”

“Mornin’.”

“Did you have a good evening?”

“What do you think?”

“I assume it was much the same as most of your evenings.”

“Got it in one. Now, I see why they’re payin’ you so well.”

“Oh, is that why? And here I thought they might just be compensating me for putting up with you.”

He barks out a laugh at that and shakes his head, turning away and starting to pace around his cell. She tries to hold back an amused smile but it’s rather difficult. Something else she has learned is that Emil appreciates a person who isn’t afraid to toss jibes right back at him, at least when he’s in a good mood, and he tosses them out quite frequently. She hadn’t really known what to expect when first meeting him, but somehow a man with a penchant for striking with words as skillfully as he did fists had not been anywhere on the list. She follows him around the outside of the cell, keeping pace with his meandering.

“So what do I owe the pleasure of your company, hm?”

“Oh, a pleasure, is it?”

“Always.”

“Mmhmm. I’m sure.”

He snickers at that and she shakes her head. He’s recently started up this little custom of his in the past few weeks they’ve been working together. He knows very well what she is here for, today more than any, just as he knew yesterday and the day before. But he insists on drawing out her stays and leading her down pointless little side conversations before they arrive at the true topic. She thinks he may be lonely; although she knows he would never admit that to anyone. But she can’t imagine that he isn’t. Wong and herself. The various guards and scientists tasked with keeping an eye on him, which don’t really count. So two people to see semi-regularly and have relatively personable chats with. Not much of a social life. It makes her feel a bit bad that she can’t stay very long today. There’s a lot to prepare for. She clears her throat and he looks up at her.

“The trial starts tomorrow.”

His smirk falls at her change of subject and he stares at her intently. She stares back for a moment before continuing.

“I need to go over a few things with you. Just to make sure you feel as ready as possible.”

He’s crossed his arms now and rolls his eyes, scowling and clicking his tongue as he continues pacing, agitated. She sighs and resists the urge to roll her own eyes. Evidently, the idea of skipping their usual banter today is not a popular one but a tantrum is very unnecessary.

“Emil. Can we talk about what we need to do?”

He ignores her.

She bites her tongue and swallows back her irritation. At this point, he’s most definitely trying to get a rise out of her and she refuses to take the bait. She keeps a few steps behind him now as she follows him around the cell, letting him sulk. Moments like this make her pray for the trial to be finished already. Regardless of outcome, she won’t be needing to see him anymore once they’re done and she is incredibly thankful for that. Most of the time. Other times she regrets to say that she almost thinks she’ll miss him a little. Like the other day when he had remembered she’d mentioned she and Nikki would be going to an event that past weekend and he’d asked how it was with genuine interest. Or the time she’d walked in to find him working on a puzzle. When she asked what the picture would turn out to be he’d muttered that it was of a beach that he’d gone to as a child. Wong had apparently brought it in for him. Times like that. Although, she always wound up reasoning, basic politeness or nostalgia for one’s childhood were not necessarily signs of any deeper moral shiftings in her client. He was merely as human as anyone else and prone to the same occasional sensitivities. She’d do well to remember that. Of all people to develop a soft spot for, the Abomination of Harlem should be beneath the last consideration.

She sighs again and picks up her pace to fall in step with him again. He continues to ignore her. She ‘hms’, and considers. As much as she hates giving in to his moods, if she’s going to make any progress today she’s going to be forced to yield somewhat. She looks over at him where he resolutely keeps his gaze fixed on his feet as they continue walking.

“Do you want to talk about something else?”

“Not with you.”

Liar.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one.”

“Ok, then can we talk about the case?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Well, you don’t really seem to want to do that.”

“You don’t know what I want.” He growls out and glares at her, finally pausing his circling.

“No, I guess I don’t.” She answers back cooly and looks away again. Not quickly enough to miss the barest flicker of regret on his face. She probably imagined it, and not allowing herself to dwell on that a second longer she dives into the briefing she’d planned on how they needed to go forward with tomorrow. Emil resumes his walking and listens without speaking, without affirming, without acknowledging that he’s hearing her at all. When she finishes, she waits patiently for a moment to see if he’ll bother responding. He gives her nothing. What is wrong with him today?

“Do you have any questions, Emil?” She asks, trying to maintain professionalism through her irritation.

“Did I ask you any, luv?” He snarks back nastily.

“No, but you’ve been feigning deafness half the time I’ve been here today so I thought I’d better make sure just in case your stubbornness somehow actually succeeded in making your ears not work.” She snaps right back.

Emil takes a half step towards her, hands clenched into fists at his sides. He’s breathing heavily but his expression is still surprisingly reserved. She hasn’t pushed him too far then. He lifts a hand, finger pointing at her. He’s shaking, she realizes. He hasn’t acted like this since their first meeting. When the idiot had smashed his head into the ceiling of his cage after he’d attempted to transform and intimidate her. It had worked up until he’d grunted in pain and stumbled, rubbing his head confusedly and glaring at the metal roof. Moments like that are others that she thinks she may miss if only for how absurd they are, and she shakes her head, giving the furious man in front of her a small smile.

“Emil…”

He glares at her a moment longer, teeth clenched, but he lowers his hand and steps back. She implores him to calm down, still trying to offer that gentle smile. He doesn’t return it but he does avert his eyes and return once more to his pacing. He puts his hands behind his back and clasps them. She thinks he’s still shaking. Tentatively, she falls in step with him again.

“No questions, then?” She asks dryly.

He snorts and ignores her again. She’s about to call it quits and tell him to have a great rest of his day but he surprises her when he breaks the silence first.

“Do you like movies?”

“...Huh?”

“Mo-vies. You usually watch them on a telly? Maybe at a cinema if you’re feelin’ extra fancy.”

“I know what a movie is, Emil.”

“So do you like them, then?”

“I guess so. Who doesn’t?”

“Borin’ people. Your louse of a cousin probably hates them.”

She ignores his comment and also ignores the cheeky grin he shoots her way. She wouldn’t be able to not tell him off for bad mouthing Bruce if she didn’t and that would be a guarantee to set him off far worse than he’d just been. She doesn’t let his grin fool her. The quickness of his change in subject and the barely concealed venom in his voice every time he mentions her cousin is all she needs to see that the anger from a moment before is merely simmering under the surface. He’s building up to something, although what, she doesn’t know. Mercurial bastard.

He waits to see if she’ll give him any reaction and when she doesn’t he continues.

“You ever see that one - uh, ‘Silence of the Lambs?”

“Of course. It’s a classic.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

He clicks his tongue at her again and turns to face her, stepping backwards as he does, arms spread wide.

“You don’t see the similarities?”

She looks at him standing there, ugly orange-blue jumpsuit hanging off his lanky form. Arms open, eyes wide and looking at her eagerly. He grins at her, all teeth.

“...Are you comparing yourself to Hannibal Lecter?”

His grin widens and he leans forward, placing one arm behind his back and waving with the other, wiggling his fingers at her.

“Helloooo, Jennifeeer,” he croons, leering at her.

She scoffs and now it’s her turn to cross her arms.

“That was terrible.”

“Oof, tough critic.”

“So, I’m Clarisse?”

“You didn’t get that from the quote?”

“I don’t get the comparison.”

“Come oooon, this cell’s pretty spot on to the second one he had, no?”

“Maybe? You don’t really have much in common with Dr. Lecter though. Unless this is your way of telling me we need to write up a defense for you attempting cannibalism?”

“No. And come on - you don’t see it at all?” He urges her, head cocked to the side. He watches her as she thinks up a response. His eyes are wide and urging her to answer yet for all their expressiveness they hold all the warmth of a shark circling an unsuspecting swimmer. His still prominent grin adds much to the analogy. She meets his cold, expectant gaze and shrugs to hide a mild shiver.

“Maybe a little.”

He seems satisfied with that answer and hums softly. He points to her and resumes his pacing. He’s not usually this restless and she wonders if he’s not more nervous for tomorrow than he’s letting on.

“See. You, though. The similarities are much more apparent with you.”

“With me and Hannibal?”

“No, you’re Clarisse!”

“Oh, right.” She sighs out. So much for leaving early today. Blonsky’s going to make sure he gets to talk to her until he’s satisfied. “She also gets paid to put up with a dangerous, high-profile criminal?”

“She gets paid to betray him.”

Jen is careful not to let her mask of non-reaction slip at this seeming accusation. That’s what he wants and she’s not going to give it to him. He watches her expression, eyes flicking around looking for even the most minute sign that he’s gotten to her. Finding nothing, he straightens up, and walks toward her. He’s grinning still, nearly baring his teeth at her, all sharp angles and tense muscles.

“She was just doing her job.” She responds slowly.

“Well, we’re all just doin' our jobs, no? That doesn’t stop us from fuckin’ up.” He continues stalking towards her. “I was just doin’ my job. And look where it got me!”

He stops in front of her, bending forward, face an inch or less from the glass. The red glow of the laser to his left plays on his features. The light makes the gray in his hair stick out more as it absorbs the vibrant color. She thinks he would really hate it if she told him that.

“Your cousin was just doin’ his job. And look where it got him.” He spits out the words this time, the bitter resentment that often enters his voice when he speaks of Banner, as he’s often wont to refer to him as, not even attempting to be hid by humor this time. “Worked out so well for him too, no?”

Yes, actually, she thinks, it did. In the end.

Emil has an awful habit of assuming everyone around him is secretly just as miserable as he is and it is getting very tiring. This affected posturing is ridiculous and she has no idea what he’s getting at with this stupid comparison. She meets his gaze steadily, arms still folded, letting him know she’s not at all impressed by whatever this is. He ignores her.

“And you’re just doin’ your job. So, tell me, how’s that goin’ to work out for you? Pretty well no matter the outcome, right? This is a career makin’ case for you, isn’t it? No one would fault you if you failed. You have an impossible defense to create. They’ll applaud your efforts regardless!”

Oh. Oh. He is nervous, she realizes with some surprise and she almost laughs. Of course he would find the most discomforting and roundabout way to ask her if she thinks they actually have a shot at getting him off. She keeps her face neutral and puts her hands on her hips as she steps up to him and answers smoothly, aiming to comfort.

“I’d like to think I’m better at making the right choices when it comes to my job than maybe some people have.”

He stands straight and glares at her but he’s struggling to hide the look of hopeful unease he gets whenever she attempts to speak to him with no pretense but kindness. If he ever knew how to speak tenderly or accept when someone spoke to him as such, the knowledge has long since left him and it leaves him in a state that he has no idea how to handle. Vulnerability is weakness and worse than that is the sickening desire to give in to that vulnerability. At least that’s how she thinks he feels. For as much as he attempts to hide his true feelings around her, the intensity of his emotions makes it a rather ‘impossible defense’ of his own design.

“Do you, now?”

“Of course. And besides, we’re shooting for a bit more freedom than just a transfer to a VA hospital, aren’t we? I’m trying to get you better than a gilded cell with a view. And I’m planning on delivering on what I tell you. No tricks. You can give me that over Agent Starling, can’t you?” She gives him a grin of her own as she uses his metaphor against him, attempting to ease the tension still present in his stance, the wariness in his eyes. If he doesn’t even believe himself that he has a shot, no amount of careful case prep-work or sleepless nights creating air-tight arguments will help him. He frowns and looks away from her for a moment before locking eyes with her again.

“You really think takin’ my case was the ‘right’ choice to make?”

His tone is cold and overly harsh. He’s playing up the anger now. It helps to cover those weaker emotions he’s so disdainful of. If he knew how well she was able to pick up on all of his little mannerisms now, she thinks he’d never want to speak with her again. The realization that she could see through the cracks in his protective shield would horrify him. But just because he doesn’t know she knows doesn’t mean she can’t use that knowledge to get him to react how she needs. She maintains perfect eye contact with him and gives the warmest and most encouraging smile she can.

“I do.”

His expression falters and he almost takes a step backwards before he attempts to steel himself once more. His eyes are flicking about her face again, anxiously this time, almost desperate to find the confirmation he wants that she is lying to him in some way. That’s much easier to accept than the alternative. She keeps her expression friendly as she raises a questioning eyebrow at him. He stops at that, catching himself and settling back into the comfort of his own superiority. He huffs out a breath and puts his hands on his own hips, smirk fixing itself firmly back in place.

“Well, then I guess we’d better hope that you're better at makin’ those kinds of career choices than I was.”

Believe me, she thinks with an internal grimace, I’m doing more than hope.

#she hulk #she hulk attorney at law #jennifer walters #emil blonsky #abomination #marvel #mcu #fanfiction

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doll-collecting-aerialist · 3 years

Text

Meet Altynay: Chapter One

(I’d put it under a cut, but I’m on mobile)

Altynay propped her head up on a mountainous stack of pillows, aching to be outside, or anywhere else really, instead of having to hold her baby sister in a stuffy hospital that smelled like alcohol and pee.

The moonlight sparkled on her sister’s red face, permanently fixed in a squabble, even though she was asleep. The clock ticked on the wall.

three am…

When will they be back?

Altynay didn’t let her mind wander for too long, and took out her homework, juggling her workbooks and pencil among the cords that were helping to keep her sister alive.

Your parents need sleep too!! She chided herself. Stop being ungrateful!!

Ungrateful. Ungrateful. Ungrateful. Ever since her sister had been born a month prior, that seemed to be the only word adults used to describe Altynay. If they even noticed her. Usually they went straight for the baby.

Altynay was ungrateful for crying when her mom left in the middle of the night to take her sister back to the emergency room, and she was ungrateful for being upset when the only food in the house happened to be Mayo and a single slice of cheese. She was ungrateful on her birthday when she stormed into her room because everyone brought presents for her sister, but didn’t bring any for her. She was ungrateful. Ungrateful. Ungrateful.

Tears dotted the rough paper of her math notebook as she realized she couldn’t do any of it. She hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past week, and must have zoned out during math class.

“If you don’t do this, you’re going to get another demerit and have to move your behavior clip down to red!!” She gritted her teeth. Her teacher didn’t make exceptions.

Truthfully, the math homework would have been easy on any other day, at home, with a clear mind and some sleep, even without the instruction. Before her sister was born, math was Altynay’s favorite subject, and she could do equations up to Algebra 2.

Altynay took a couple deep breaths and focused back on her worksheet.

“See? It’s just times tables.” She told herself, “You like times tables.”

She finished her homework just as a nurse Altynay didn’t recognize walked into the room.

Altynay gave a small wave. “She’s not had any major changes. She got air in her line a couple minutes ago and I fixed it because the beeping was upsetting me, I hope that’s alright?”

The nurse looked around and gave a dramatic sigh. “Where are your parents??”

Altynay anxiously bit her lip. “They’re in the family room. Mama hasn’t slept in three days, and papa is taking care of her. We have to hold my sister up at an angle or else she aspirates.”

“It’s against policy for children to be left unattended.” The nurse gave Altynay a look as if she should know that.

Altynay did know that as an avid worrier and sign reader, but she had done this before. “The nice charge nurse with the maple leaf scrubs lets me hold her while my parents rest. She says I’m very smart and careful.”

Altynay contemplated asking the nurse if she needed an Advil and some coffee, as that always seemed to soften her parents’ frustration, especially these days, but the nurse was already out the door, no doubt on her way to the family room.

The pit in Altynay’s stomach grew when Mama and Papa appeared in the doorway, the harsh yellow lights in the hallway illuminating just how tired they were.

“I’m sorry.” Altynay whispered, handing her sister over to her dad, as her mom pushed the suitcases together and created a makeshift bed.

Her dad gave her a wretched look before mustering a curt “go play” followed by a “somewhere that’s not in this room” and a “I’ll find you around six am to take you to school.”

Altynay hurriedly shoved an outfit from her suitcase into her school bag before leaving the room. She would change in the school bathroom.

The lights buzzed over Altynay’s head, and her eyes stung from the sudden change from dark to light. Gurneys and wheelchairs pushed past her, all accompanied by herds of people.

But Altynay was alone.

She felt small as she shrunk into a corner of the larger than life elevator. Was she invisible?

“What floor?” A tired looking doctor asked.

At least that was confirmation that she wasn’t completely invisible.

“Five.” She let him punch the number for her. She didn’t actually have a floor in mind. She knew her father would expect to find her on the ground level, or the family services level, but Altynay didn’t want to be findable right then.

Altynay learned quickly that as long as you didn’t look lost, scared or suspicious, that most doctors would brush past you. She wandered the fifth floor, filing the diagrams posted on the wall into her photographic memory, and listening in on conversations. The hospital wasn’t all bad. Altynay wanted to be a surgeon, and she often told herself that this was just a head start.

Sometime later, Altynay found herself being shaken awake by a concerned face. She must have crashed on one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, most certainly not by choice.

“Do you know where your parents are?” The face most certainly didn’t mean to be imposing, and the gentle smile that accompanied the question squashed any off handed remark a rudely awakened Altynay may have otherwise come up with. “Don’t make me go back up there.” Altynay groaned. “I’m not lost, just tired. And I’m not a runaway patient, before you go accusing me of that. My sister is the one who keeps trying to die.”

“I see. Well, why don’t you walk with me?” The doctor held out his hand.

Altynay suspiciously took it. “I’m not going back to my parents. Or my sister. Or that nurse. They’re all mean and I hate them.”

“Are you hungry?” The doctor asked.

Altynay looked up at him, trying to remember the last time she ate. “Maybe. Please no more popsicles, I haven’t had any fruit except that time when my friend’s dad packed her a bushel of bananas for lunch. I want fruit.”

The doctor chuckled. “I can do that.”

Altynay didn’t know why she found herself babbling to someone she barely knew. Normally she was shy and skeptical, but the nice doctor actually seemed to care about her. He didn’t call her ungrateful, or yell at her for trying to help. He found her a fruit salad and tucked her into an unoccupied bed. Altynay didn’t realize how much she missed being treated like a kid. It felt wrong to wish for life before her sister was born, but it was hard for nine-year-old Altynay not to, when days and nights were spent in the hospital, and she could barely remember what her own bedroom looked like. Altynay fell asleep almost immediately, surrounded in swirling images of her baby sister’s unused crib, and all the “can nots” that came shortly after her sister’s birth.

9:00 AM.

Altynay begrudgingly peeled herself out of bed. Late again. At least her homework was done.

Altynay texted Papa on the flip phone her parents gifted her, which was already on its last legs, despite it being “For Emergencies Only.”

Sorry for being late, can you take me to school please? xoxo

She put on her change of clothes as she waited for his reply, thankful that her tardiness meant she wouldn’t have to change in the school bathrooms.

Sorry pumpkin, your sister had a bad night. I should stay here with your mom. Take the bus again? I’ll make it up to you.

Altynay felt a pang of guilt. While she was sleeping, her sister was struggling to stay alive. Mama probably didn’t get the sleep she needed, she thought.

Her eyes stung with tears as she boarded the bus. Papa always said it wasn’t her job to worry about them, but she couldn’t help but feel responsible. She pushed her ball of upset back down, imagining it rolling out of the bus, never to be seen again. It seemed to have grown trifold in the past months.

What mattered now was school. Altynay couldn’t slip, no matter what happened. Afterall, like her teacher said, there were no exceptions.

#american girl doll #dolls #long post #text post #ag dolls #dollblr #Rebecca Rubin #Meet Altynay #ag #writing #story #fanfiction #ag fandom #ag fanfiction #GOTY

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kiribaku-queen · 4 years

Note

Congrats on the 500 followers! I was wondering if you can do a Deku request with some angst where the reader and him were best friends until they got to UA Deku gets super busy with hero training and almight that when ever the reader asks to hang up it he says no. So later on they start to hang out with kirishima more. Deku starts to notice and is trying to get readers attention again. It could end either but I just want the reader to end up with one or the other. I absolutely love your writing! Also sorry if this is super vague.

Little Too Late

Pairing: Midoriya x reader, Kirishima x reader

Angst, little fluff

Word count: 4.6K

A/N: I’ll be honest, this took me FOREVER to finish because I have the idea in my head, but somehow it just would flow out into words. And every time I wrote it, I didn’t think it was good enough so I kept rewriting it. I don’t think I’m completely satisfied, like some parts feel rushed??? But I also didn’t not want to put it out and leave you hanging. So SORRY if you’re disappointed in my writing with this one but I really tried my best. I’d still like to know your thoughs and thank you for all your continuous support~!

You screamed with excitement when your childhood best friend came to you with the news that he got accepted in his dream school. You had so many questions for him. Like how did he get in with no quirk? What was the test like? When does he start? Are the uniforms pretty? Did he meet any hot boys?! Okay, that question was specifically for you. Deku just sat there, rubbing the back of his neck, waiting for you to calm down with your loud mouth.

That’s why you two worked so well. This is why you were the best of friends. You could talk all day long, about anything really. Small things that happened in your day, gossip you heard at school, talking about boys! And Izuku took it all in, watching you with curiosity and listening to you intently. But it was also vice versa. When Izuku was talking about All Might, a hero fight that he saw when he was passing by, or heroes on TV, it was his turn to be a blabber mouth. And you would listen carefully to what he had to say. You respected each other’s interests and that’s why you blended so well together. Also on the fact that you both bonded over katsudon, but that’s besides the point.

Let’s not forget the huge secret your best friend just unleashed to you. You didn’t believe it at first. Because how could small, delicate, sweet Deku who you’ve know for your whole life to be quirkless to all of a sudden have a quirk? No less, All Might’s quirk? He couldn’t show you because he would break literally all his bones. But he did show you All Might’s autograph and that’s all the proof you needed. So it finally became a reality that Izuku Midoriya would be going to his dream school and become a hero.

“You’re gonna leave me for all your new hero friends,” you pouted, throwing yourself on his bed. He sits down next to you and pats your back.

“No I won’t. You’ll still be my best friend,” he reassured you but you weren’t convinced.

“I’ll be your best friend but you won’t see me anymore,” you began to fake cry. Usually by now, Deku would be panicking, trying to all different types of ways to cheer you up but this time, he plays with your hair to calm you down.

“I’ll see you every weekend, how about that?” he suggested. You jumped up right, sitting on your knees and facing the green haired boy.

“Promise?” you ask, sticking out your pinky finger and your bottom lip jutting out. He smiles at your softly and interlocks pinkies.

“Promise.”

“If you don’t, I’m gonna kill you! Power or not, I’ll give you a good punch straight to the cheek!” you playfully threatened, landing a fist that stopped right before it hit his cheek. You could never really hurt him or even lay a finger on him. He was too precious for you to lose.

School started and you two went your separate ways. Deku went to the famous U.A school while you went to your ordinary high school where nothing ever happens. At first, Deku kept his promise. Every weekend and sometimes even during the week days, he would come visit you after school to tell you all about what happen in class or about one of his classmates’ quirks. He was always so full of high energy and had so much determination to grow stronger that it fascinated you. You could watch him for hours on end, just listening to him and his stories. Often, he would show you all the notes he wrote down in his notebook. His mouth was like a machine gun that was stuck and couldn’t stop.

Although you were so happy for him and his new life, you were feeling left out. High school felt different without Deku by your side. It was hard for you to make friends because Izuku has been your only friend for so long that you didn’t know how to befriend new people. Most days, you would be eating lunch and spending free time by yourself. There was an occasion where you tried to talk to your classmates, but you ended up embarrassing yourself and you never wanted to do that again. Izuku was your support system and without him here, you felt your days getting longer and darker.

Izuku noticed that you weren’t as talkative lately. You usually would have a lot to say during his long rants. Whether its small comments or complaining or reactions, you always had something to say. But this time around, you were silent and it was concerning him. Thanks to his observation skills, he caught on to your strange behavior early on. And he was going to do something about it.

Him and a few of his classmates were going to mall since they needed a few things for a class trip. So of course, he invited you to meet a few of them since they were his closest friends. Not going to lie, you were going to deny the request. You didn’t want to impose and make it seem like Deku had to introduce you to his new friends. They were his friends. He can go and have fun with his friends all he wants without you, it was no biggie. But maybe he was doing this so that both of his worlds could combine. When Izuku was giving you those puppy eyes, you couldn’t say no. And you were about to flake last minute if it weren’t for him showing up at your house to make sure you get there. He was one persistent little man.

“Do I have to go? Maybe I’ll join next time,” you told Deku, trying to get out of meeting his friends.

“Come,” he insisted, grabbing you by the arm, practically dragging you out of the house.

“What if they don’t like me?” you worried. Honestly, any excuse you could make up was good at this point.

“They’re not that kind of people. You’ll love them!” he swore on his life. Yeah, well you’ll see about that.

You and Deku were the last to show up. His whole group was already there waiting. Maybe they were going to think badly of you now because you were late. Deku yelled and waved at them from afar, letting them know that he was here with you. A guy with glass and his friend with bright, red hair both waved while a shorter girl beside them was watching you two carefully.

“Woah, who’s this? A girlfriend?” the red head questions Deku when you finally arrived in front of them. You caught the shorter girl looking back between you two in a frantic and nervous manner.

“No, she’s my best friend!” Deku waved it off. You glanced at the girl again and you saw her sigh with relief. It didn’t take a genius to know that she has some type of feelings towards your friend. Out of the corner of your eye, you also caught Deku sneaking a glance at her. Oh? Is there a little love situation happening? You tried to hide a snicker that was trying to form on your lips but it kind of failed because you felt your best friend give you a hard nudge to the gut, making you immediately shut up.

“Let’s go!” Deku changed the subject real quick.

At first, shopping with Deku’s new friends was really fun. They took time to get to know you, chat with you, and even joke around with you. It made you gain confidence that you actually can make friends. But there was a small voice in the back of your mind telling you that they are just good at conversating. Maybe they don’t want to actually be your friend. Maybe it’s because they’ve been trained to be friendly since that’s what heroes have to do to calm civilians during a time of crisis. You were having the most fun you’ve had in a long time, so you disregarded that thought. But that fun didn’t last too long.

About an hour in, slowly but surely, Deku and his friends started to drift apart from you. They started to pull him aside, laughing and having a good time. While you? You stood to the side, watching them as they have fun. Deku and his friends were so immersed in their own conversations that you were practically invisible to them. It was like they forgot that they had a whole conversation with you just minutes prior. So when they walked ahead of you, you purposely walked slower.

This was embarrassing. They weren’t paying attention to you. Not like they should since they didn’t know you, but being left out bummed you out. And Izuku wasn’t doing anything about it. It was nice that he has more friends now. It really was. Seeing him converse and be himself around other people was so amazing. But they were so different from you. What if he didn’t want to hang out with you anymore because of that?

“Uh, (y/n) right?” you heard a voice come up next to you. Oh, it was one of Izuku’s friends. He had bright red hair and a toothy grin. It was a simple question yet you hadn’t processed what he said.

“What?” you asked in a daze.

“Your name. It’s (y/n), isn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed awkwardly, not able to keep eye contact with him. Kirishima kept asking you questions and you responded with one word, or if he’s lucky, two word answers. You thought that giving him short answers would make him leave you alone. But on the contrary, it made him want to stay even more. He saw you were being left out of the group. Uncool for his classmates to do that, but unmanly of Deku, too, because he was the one who brought you. Not to mention that you were his best friend since forever. But he was being left out too. Which he was okay with, but obviously you weren’t and it was written all over your face. So it seemed like a good idea for two loners to hang out with each other. Plus, this was a good opportunity to make friends with such a pretty lady.

And oh boy, was it working. Sure, it was awkward at first because you really weren’t in the mood for talking. But Kirishina just made every conversation, every topic so natural and free flowing. He just captivated your whole attention that you didn’t even think about your friend ditching you to be with his other friends.

“I probably should get going,” you excused yourself. It was already getting late with the sun starting to set in the golden, pink sky. Your parents definitely wouldn’t like it if you stayed any later. Kirishima frowned, disappointed that your time together was so short. Personally, he was having a great time talking to you, laughing with you, being with you, looking at you…

“Ah, let me get your number,” Kirishima quickly whipped out his phone, stopping his thoughts from exploring any more ideas on why he liked being with you. But maybe he would think more about it later. You agreed to exchanging numbers with the red head and headed home before it got too dark. You didn’t even bother letting Izuku know. After doing that to you? He didn’t deserve another second of your time. You really wished you never went. But at least you had a little fun with Kirishima at the end.

You walked back alone, thinking about your time with your new friend. On cue, you got a ping on your phone. Suddenly, your lips turned from a frown into a wide smile that you had to bite your bottom lip from smiling so hard.

Get home safe 😊 -K

If you weren’t in public right now, you think you’d be giggling like a little girl. He was such a sweetheart it was driving you crazy.

When Izuku found out that you walked home by yourself, he physically facepalmed himself and immediately ran to you. How could he not notice that you weren’t by his side? You must have been that upset to leave without telling him. Stupid, stupid. How could he be so stupid and ignorant to leave you alone when he was the one who invited you out. There was nothing in the world that could make up for what he did, but he had to try.

He knocked on your door, leaving over and panting from his sprint to your house. Seconds later, you were opening the door with a blank expression and arms crossed against your chest.

“What.” You coldly asked him, making Izuku freeze up. He was in a lot of trouble and he deserved it.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. No matter what he could say, what excuse he would muster up, none of it would matter because he messed up. Big time. So instead of giving you a big explanation on his side of the story, he just could tell you that he was sorry. But even that didn’t have any effect on you. You tapped your finger against your forearm, the frown on your face just getting deeper. You were piercing daggers at him, making him unable to do anything else.

“Hm.” You hummed, not acknowledging or accepting his apology. “You left me.” You started.

“I did.”

“Alone.”

“I know.”

“Why did you bring me if you just wanted to hang out with your friends?” you questioned, still not understanding why he did that. And truth be told, he didn’t know why either. It just happened, he guessed. But if he said that, he knew that wasn’t a good enough excuse. And you knew that too. But even if it was just an honest mistake, you wanted to stay mad at him.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. You could see in his face and the way that he was acting that he was truly sorry. “I promise, it’ll never happen again.”

“Promise?” you asked to make sure you heard correctly. You weren’t forgiving him. Oh, no. Not just yet. But, as long as he doesn’t ditch you for his new friends again like that, then maybe you would get over it someday. He nods his head frantically and sticks his pinky finger out.

“Swear,” he interlocks your pinkies together and presses your thumbs together to seal the deal.

“Fine,” you huffed and looked away with one of your cheeks puffed out. He made the promise. A pinky promise that he couldn’t leave you hanging ever again.

What a lie that was.

“Deku! You want to get ice cream after school?” you called him, already excited to eat your favorite dessert.

“Ah, sorry (y/n). Not today. I have training with All Might today after school. Maybe next time!”

“Hey, Deku! My mom asked if you wanted to come over for dinner.”

“I’m a little busy tonight. Tell your mom that I said sorry and that I’ll join next time!” he apologized, hanging up rather quickly. No goodbye, see you later, or hope you’re doing good. Nothing. You sighed and went downstairs to tell your mom the news but you weren’t very happy. But you remembered that he’s not the Deku you used to know. He was training to become a hero, he was always going to be busy. You just weren’t used to this. But you can’t help but be disappointed and scared that you were losing your best friend.

“Dekuu, I already have the movie set up. Are you almost here?”

“Today’s Friday already? I forgot to tell you that All Might wanted to meet up for extra training.”

“Again?” you could hear the disappointment in your voice.

“I know, I’m sorry. Maybe-”

“Next time?” you finished his sentence, already knowing what he was going to say. This happens so often that you were already anticipating his answer.

“Yeah,” he breathed, not knowing what else to say.

“Sure,” you say. Soon after, the call ended and you just ended up watching the movie alone. Drink and popcorn in hand, eating away your sorrows and feelings of being abandoned by your one and only true friend.

But he wasn’t your only friend, was he? You paused the movie and picked up the phone again.

“Hello?” you heard that familiar, happy voice. You could already imagine his face right now.

“Are you busy right now?” you asked to make sure that he wasn’t training also.

“Not at the moment. What’s up?”

“Do you want to watch a movie together?”

Calls started getting shorter. Texts stopped being answered. And you stopped caring. It was the same excuse every time and you ran out of patience. If he wasn’t going to try in your friendship, then you weren’t either. It was until one day that he showed up at your door.

You were standing against the door frame with your arms crossed and a clearly pissed off expression while Izuku was there standing frail and hunched over. Hm, seems like a familiar sight. You waited for him to speak up because you weren’t going to put in more effort than you should to make this friendship work.

“I’m sorry,” again with the apology. You were tired of hearing that word. The more he said it, the less meaning it has behind it.

“You promised,” you said, almost bursting in tears with how much emotion you were holding in that it surprised you. But you kept yourself calm and composed, controlling your breathing so that you don’t break down you barriers.

“I know. I know, but I’m here to make it up to you. Your birthday is coming up. Let me take you out for the day. We’ll spend the whole day together. Just you and me. I won’t leave or ditch you or make up any excuses. You have me all to yourself. How does that sound?” he offered you his best option on trying to save his mess up. It was tempting. It really was. Part of you wanted to say no because you felt so hurt over the last couple of weeks because of him. But part of you wants to feel that joy and happiness again. The joy and happiness that only Izuku could give you because he was your everything.

“You’ll plan the whole day?”

“The whole day. You don’t have to worry about a thing,” he said, still hopeful that you’ll agree. And how could you not. You’ll give him one more chance.

“Fine. But I’m dressing up so you should match me,” you told him, still having your angry face on but let’s be honest, inside you were feeling the butterflies and were so eager for your birthday to come.

You were dressed in your cutest clothes, your hair and makeup to match. The day was finally here. You and Deku could finally catch up and just hang out like you used to. It was going to be a good day, you could feel it.

You arrived at the meeting place Deku wrote down for you. He said to be there at noon sharp because he had a surprise for you. You smiled and waited on a bench that was nearby. You wonder what it could be.

10 minutes rolled by. Maybe he was running a bit late. But a text at least would be nice.

Then 30 minutes. Maybe he missed the train?

1 hour. Maybe he forgot where you were supposed to meet? Or what if he’s here and he just hasn’t found you yet? You looked around but there were very little people here. If he were here, he should have seen you by now or you would have spotted him instantly.

2 hours.

3 hours.

You knew it. You were so stupid to think to actually trust him again. All emotion vanished from your body, feeling numb all over. You couldn’t even shed a tear. He told you to come out, that he planned something for your birthday and he’s the one not to show. Classy. The train ride and the walk home were slow. Painfully slow. You watched as every tree, bush, landscape and greenery passed you. The birds were in full song. The streets were busy with people, laughing and smiling. While you were here, completely emotionless. You didn’t deserve this. Even if you did, you wished it was through some other way. Closing the door gently to your front door, you made the announcement to your family that you were home.

“(y/n)? Home already?” your mom called from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you sighed, not giving her any details and feeling emotionally drained. “I’ll be upstairs. Don’t check up on me and I’m not eating dinner today.” You told your mom, her catching your strange behavior right away and that worried her.

“But I’m making your favorite. You okay, honey?” your mom came out of the kitchen to ask you. But you had already disappeared into your room, locking it and putting headphones in so you weren’t disturbed. You were going to keep yourself distracted all day to drown out of your own thoughts.

Even though it was a weekend, Kirishima still decided to visit the school to strengthen his quirk with the help of Aizawa-sensei. He was passing the school gates, about to enter into the building when out of the corner of his eye, he saw something green flash in the woods area of campus. Curious, thinking that it couldn’t be him, he decided to check it out and see with his own two eyes.

Kirishima got close enough to just get a glimpse but his gut feeling was right. There was Izuku Midoriya, practicing on controlling his quirk without breaking all of his bones. All Might was there to guide him too. What day was it again? Wasn’t it your birthday? And didn’t you have plans with Izuku? So if he’s here, then…

The realization hit him like a brick. Forgetting about his practice with Aizawa, he would apologize later, he ran as fast to you, making a few pitstops on the way.

“(y/n),” your mother came in your room, using a spare key to unlock your door. You were laying on your bed, streaks of tears stained your cheeks and your eyes were red from crying. Your headphones were placed tightly on your ears, music playing loud enough to make you forget about your surroundings. But your mother ruined the atmosphere when she barged in your room after you said that you wanted to be alone.

“Mom, I said I didn’t want to eat dinner,” you reminded her, pausing your music for a split second to tell her that. You were about to play that blaring music once again but your mom had to say something else.

“I know. But there’s someone at the door for you,” she told you quickly before you could push her out again. You froze. Someone was at the door for you? Was Izuku finally here and to apologize again? Ready to confront him and take all your anger out, you stormed out of your room and to the front door. You opened the door, ready to release all hell but you stopped yourself when you saw that it wasn’t Izuku waiting for you.

“Kirishima?” you were confused why he was here right now. “What are you-”

“I come bringing gifts,” he holds up a bouquet of flowers and a basket full of your favorite things. “Thought you might be needing a friend right now.” And you teared up when you heard that. You bit your lip and nodded your head, letting him inside. You brought him to your room, avoiding the looks you were getting from your family members. As soon as you closed the door to your room, Kirishima drops everything in his hands and pulls you in for a tight and comforting hug. The sudden act made you gasp in surprise.

“Are you okay?” he whispered into your hair, his hand covering your head protectively. You wanted to lie to him, saying that you were alright but he could see right through you. Especially with your appearance now. So you shook your head and buried your face into his shoulder, hugging him back just as tightly. You stayed in that position for quite a while, just basking in each other’s presence. It was like he was trying to give you some of his happiness and take away some of your misery to help you feel a little bit better. And it was working. You felt calm enough to at least have a conversation with him.

“Kiri, you didn’t have to do this,” you tell him, pushing away from the hug slightly.

“It’s your birthday,” he commented. You wished it wasn’t your birthday. Because of this experience, you were going to think about it every birthday, ruining the celebration.

“It’s just a birthday,” you brushed it off like it didn’t hurt. Kirishima frowns at your response.

“I know how excited you were to spend this day with him,” ouch. It’s like reopening a fresh wound that hadn’t fully healed. “So I’ll spend it with you. We can do whatever you want. Watch a movie, just lay down and chill, or… I can take you out on a date to distract yourself.” He hesitated to say that last part and a light blush appeared on his cheeks.

“A date?”

“It doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to be. Just forget I said that. We can go out, not like go out go out but like go outside and do an activity for the rest of the day, if you’d like,” he went on a rant, the blush on his cheeks growing deeper with each word he said. You thought about it. The flowers. The gift basket. Going out of his way to make time for you on your birthday. This was the guy you needed in your life. Not Deku. Not someone who ignores you or doesn’t keep his promises. You didn’t him. You looked a Kirishima. He was a good guy. He was sweet, thoughtful, sincere. Maybe you would give him a shot.

The final bell rang in the 1-A classroom. Students were packing up their stuff, some staying behind and chatting about their training and how much they improved. While his classmates were indulging in their conversations, he was blowing up his phone with text messages to you. You weren’t responding to his calls or texts. He was doing everything he could to reach you, but you didn’t seem to be available. He was so concentrated on his phone that he didn’t see a certain red-head trying to sprint out the door.

“Woah, Kirishima. Where you going in such a hurry?” Kaminari stops him before he’s out the door. It wasn’t like Kirishima to leave immediately after the bell rings. He’s usually with his best friend Bakugou or hanging around until everyone leaves together.

“I’m going to pick up my girlfriend from her school,” he announces, grabbing the whole class’s attention.

“So you finally started dating (y/n), huh?” Sero congratulated him with a pat on the back.

“It’s about time,” Bakugou grumbled. He had to deal with Kirishima’s constant talking about you every day to the point where he wanted to strangle him to stop talking. But he was proud of his friend. Upon hearing your name, Deku shoots his head up and listens in on the conversation.

“Yeah, and I’m going to give her all the attention that she needs and more. Because she deserves it,” Kirishima said a little louder, taking a stab at Deku. Deku swallowed the lump in his throat. No matter how much he would apologize, it was already too late. You had already replaced him with someone else.

#deku x reader #midoriya izuku #deku imagine #midoriya imagine #kirishima x reader #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima imagine #bnha midoriya #bnha deku #bnha kirishima #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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easily-infatuated23 · 4 years

Text

The Nanny

request: “Hello, could you write something where a few years after the death of his wife Draco hires a new nanny for Scorpius and ends up falling in love with her... could have anguish, but the ending would be happy? Please!My first language is not English I'm sorry if you got confused.” - @trouxa2x

a/n: i hope this is what you wanted! and your english is great don’t worry :) also-there is a phone call which is in italics and song lyrics for La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf in italics

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Nanny!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mention of death for like a moment

summary: After the birth of his son and the death of his wife, Draco Malfoy needs a nanny

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

The day Draco Malfoy’s son was born was the happiest and saddest day of his life. His loving wife Astoria had been diagnosed with a blood curse that killed her moments after Scorpius was born. His first breath, had been her last. Although he knew this would be the likely outcome, it was still crushing. Draco didn’t like to talk about his emotions and knew the only way to get over his wife’s death would be to burry himself in his work as a Healer. But with a baby, he couldn’t just shut out the world. He needed help. It was obvious he was struggling.

During the long process of making amends after the war, Draco had some how become close to the golden trio he had despised so much as a child. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had all come by to meet Scorpius and check in on Draco. He looked awful. The bags under his eyes were worse than during the war. “I have a friend who is looking for some work as a nanny, she’s great with kids, babies especially. I’ll get you her number” Hermione said, rummaging through her purse looking for her contacts book. Draco nodded slightly. He had considered getting a nanny but the idea of another woman acting motherly toward Scorpius made him feel sick. However, Draco politely took the number and thanked Hermione.

As the months continued on Draco found it easier to care for Scorpius. He had taken up a job as a consultant for the hospital so he could spend most of his time at home with his son. But as the months stretched into years, Draco grew depressed. Scorpius became fussier and fussier and the hospital was begging for him to come back as a full time Healer. “It’s time” Draco thought. He looked through the drawers of his desk until he found the phone number Hermione had given him nearly two years prior. He dialed the number, feeling anxious and unsure of exactly what to say.

“Hello?” a female voice answered.

“Hi um is this Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she, may I ask who is calling?”

“Oh yes um this is Draco Malfoy. I’m a friend of Hermione Gran- I mean Weasley’s.”

“Oh hello! I remember she mentioned a few years back you might be in need of a nanny.”

“Yes! Well, I had been handling it pretty well but now I am finding myself in need of some help so I can go back to work…”

“I see. Let me guess, those ‘terrible two’s’ are in full swing right about now” she chuckled.

“Yes exactly! I was wondering if you would consider interviewing to become a live-in nanny for my son Scorpius. I am not sure for how long or what I would pay you but-”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” she interrupted. “I’m sure we could conduct a formal interview as well but may I come over and just meet Scorpius first? I find that sometimes the baby will tell the parent whether or not the nanny is the right fit, even before an interview.”

“Yes of course. Can you come over around 11 am tomorrow?”

“Yes. See you then. Good day”

“Thank you, cheers”

He hung up the phone. He looked over at Scorpius sitting in his high chair. The baby gurgled and threw some cereal to the ground. Then seeing his cereal on the ground, Scorpius started to wail at an incredible volume. The interview couldn’t come soon enough. The next day at 11 am sharp, Y/N knocked on the door. When Draco opened it, she was met with the chaos that had become his daily life. The house was a mess and Scorpius was screaming. “Hi, welcome. Sorry about the mess” he stammered, showing her into the house. “Nice to meet you Mr. Malfoy” she replied cheerily. Seemingly unfazed, she walked into the living room, put down her purse, and sat down next to the screaming baby. Draco watched her as she began to rub the baby’s back and started to softly sing. The baby slowly began to quiet down until he was quiet enough for Draco to hear what Y/N was singing.

~Quand il me prend dans ses bras, qu’il me parle tout bas. Je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d’amour, des mots de tous les jours, et ça m'fait quelque chose….~

The baby began to smile as Y/N picked him up and cradled him, still singing.

~Il est entré dans mon cœur, une part de bonheur, dont je connais la cause. C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie, il me l'a dit, l'a juré, pour la vie. Et dès que je l’aperçois, alors je sens en moi, mon cœur qui bat..~

She then began to hum the tune more quietly and sway lightly. Scorpius’s eyes fluttered closed as he drifted to sleep. She smiled and looked up at his father. Draco was standing with his hand over his mouth, tears falling from his icy blue eyes. “Are you alright Mr. Malfoy?” she whispered. He nodded. He cleared his throat quietly before speaking. “La Vie en Rose was the song Astoria and I used for our first dance at our wedding”. “Oh I’m so sorry, if I had known I wouldn’t have…” He shook his head at her. “No it’s alright. I just… miss her”. She tilted her head sympathetically. “From what I’ve heard of her, she sounded lovely. I wish I could have met her.” Draco nodded and looked down at his shoes, trying to hold himself together.

“If you would tell me where his crib is I can put him down so we can start the formal interview. If you’d like” she said, knowing a subject change was what needed to occur. Draco nodded and gestured for her to follow him. Once Scorpius was in his crib, the adults went to the living room to discuss the particulars of the arrangement. Y/N told Draco about how she discovered her love for child care when she worked as a nanny for a short time while traveling in France. “When I came back to England, I worked for a few other Wizarding families including Hermione and Ron for a short time. Ron actually nick named me ‘the baby whisperer’” she said chuckling. “After what just happened, I’m inclined to believe him!” Draco replied. Without needing to consider it, Draco offered Y/N the job.

A year later Draco was still kicking himself daily for not hiring Y/N sooner. His life and mental health had improved drastically since she moved in. He was able to go back to working at the hospital full time and help people like he had always wanted. The two had developed a close friendship and Y/N became part of his family. The house felt almost foreign when she was gone. Though she was a live-in nanny, Draco still encouraged Y/N to take days off, and when she would go, Draco missed her terribly. He could tell Scorpius missed her too.

“You’re falling in love with her!” Hermione teased. She had come over to see Y/N and Draco and knew immediately. “What? No, she works for me. That would be highly inappropriate” he replied defensively. Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco looked across the room at Y/N. She was holding Scorpius near a window and was pointing at something and talking to him. Scorpius was giggling loudly and clapping his little chubby hands. Draco couldn’t help but smile. There was no doubt that he was fond of Y/N, but did he love her? She was great with Scorpius, she understood Draco’s feelings (sometimes better than he did), and she was beautiful. But her beauty wasn’t just external, she had a truly beautiful soul. Another six months went by before Draco was sure. He had fallen for Y/N. He hadn’t meant to fall for her, but she was easy to love. He tried not to act differently towards her but after the realization of his feelings, he couldn’t help it. It started with lingering glances and lead to going out of his way to have little moments of physical contact with her. Whether that was reaching for the same toy to give to Scorpius, or squeezing her hand to get her attention while Scorpius was sleeping. There was not a doubt in his mind about it. He loved her, whole heartedly.

Draco woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of Scorpius crying. He rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed. He walked down the hallway and into his son’s room, only to find that Y/N was already there. She was standing with her back to the door, rocking Scorpius and singing to him. Draco stood outside of the room, leaning on the door frame as he watched Y/N calm the crying child. He couldn’t help but smile at her. Eventually, she stopped singing and spoke to Scorpius. “You are so loved Scorpius. Your dad loves you, I love you, and your mama loves in all the way from heaven.” Draco continued to smile but in a more melancholy way. Y/N had always made a point of talking to Scorpius about his mother, even though she knew the baby didn’t understand what she said. Draco still found it difficult to talk about Astoria, but Y/N had always insisted that Scorpius know how much his mother loved him, even though she was gone. She rocked him a few more times before placing him back into his crib. When she turned to face the door she smiled at Draco. “I’ll see you again in an hour or so” she joked. She walked past him and exited the room, making her way down to the first floor. Draco watched her walk away before returning to his room. Scorpius didn’t cry again that night but still Draco couldn’t sleep. He decided to go down to the kitchen and fix himself a sandwich, besides, if he was awake he might as well do something to pass the time. As he made his way down the hall to the stairs, he noticed a light was on in the kitchen. He walked down and found Y/N sitting in the kitchen. She was sitting at the kitchen counter eating a bowl of pasta and reading a book. She looked up when she heard him enter the room. “Can’t sleep?” she asked. He chuckled and nodded. “Welcome to the club. Look I even saved you a seat!” she joked, gesturing at the chair next to her.

He rummaged through the pantry and complied his sandwich. He then joined her at the table. She put her book down and angled herself in his direction. “You seem different” she said. He looked down at his plate, feeling a pit in his throat. He gulped. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You just seem…I don’t know, happier recently. I can’t put my finger on it”. Did she know about his feelings? Was she trying to bait him into admitting it? He forced himself to look at her. Even at 4 in the morning she was beautiful. He took a deep breath and decided to answer honestly. “I recently decided that I’m ready to open myself up to the idea of love again. Astoria wouldn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life and something just told me its time” he said. Y/N smiled. “That’s really great Draco. I’m so happy for you”. She had a slight glimmer in her eye, she had to know. He eyed her a bit suspiciously. She laughed. “Ok ok don’t give me that look! Hermione might have mentioned to me that you had found someone and I had to ask! Whoever she is she’s a lucky girl” she turned back to her book.

Draco couldn’t believe what he heard. Y/N, the girl who some how knew him better than he knew himself, didn’t know he was in love with her! He smiled and rolled his eyes as he stood up and leaned his back against the counter, putting his hand over Y/N’s book. She looked up at him, some what puzzled. “Y/N, it’s you. I’ve fallen for you. Totally and completely” he said, hopefully sounding more courageous than he was feeling. Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t speak. She mouthed “me?” and pointed to herself. Draco’s smile widened and he nodded. She grinned. He cupped his hands around her cheeks and leaned in closely, so closely it was a wonder their eyelashes didn’t brush against each other. He waited for her to give him permission to close the gap between their bodies. “Kiss me” she whispered. He closed the gap and their lips touched, gently but still passionately. She stood up from her chair and rose to her tip toes as her hands played with his hair. The kissing became laughing as they came up for air. “I didn’t think it was possible to kiss someone and smile at the same time” Y/N said. “With you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop smiling”. There was a comfortable silence as they rested their foreheads against each other, enjoying being close. “I love you Y/N”. She looked up and into his eyes. “I love you too Draco”.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x nanny!reader #scorpius malfoy #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #harry potter #harry potter au #draco malfoy au #hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy imagine

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btsficsforthehumble · 3 years

Text

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

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

pairing: reader x ot7

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

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

Part Four

Warnings: explicit language

Word count: 2k

Your alarm forces you out of a deep sleep at eight on the dot. Groaning, you blindly press the snooze button and flip your face into your pillow, not quite ready to deal with a new day. You let yourself doze for a few minutes, longing for the dark pull of sleep to take you back.

Now, you had to be at your class in under an hour and you were stressed. Seeing how much time had passed in your drowsy state allowed a fire to be lit under your butt, encouraging you to quickly jump in the shower and get ready for the day. All the while, all you wanted to do was answer the call of your abandoned bed.

After rushing around your apartment, you finally stepped out in some light brown corduroys and an embroidered blouse tucked into the waist. A light jacket thrown over top, you felt put together enough to start your day. Even with the rush, you managed to grab a couple of your million muffins from your baking spree yesterday and a to-go mug of coffee. You learned your mistake yesterday, when you showed up to morning classes without caffeine to push you through.

Walking across campus, you watch other students scurry off to their own morning classes. It still being the first week of the semester, most people hadn’t lost the motivation to go to their early classes just yet. You really hope that you won’t fall victim to that… you can’t afford to skip in a class you struggle with.

Once you arrive at your classroom, you head to the same spot you sat last class, and plop your bag down as you get your muffin out to eat before class. Setting it out, you sip your coffee and scroll though your phone, checking your inbox that had accumulated honestly way too many emails overnight.

Your eyes glued to your phone, you don’t even notice when a large hand swipes the muffin right off your desk.

Still absorbed in an email about volunteering for a local animal shelter, you hear someone sit loudly in the seat behind you. Ignoring it, you continue to read though the details of the email --- it looked like the animal shelter for your city, Autumn Leaves Adoption Center, was accepting new volunteers and was looking for students from your university specifically. You had always had a huge soft spot for animals, so you were excited at a chance to spend time helping out.

You glance up from your phone when you finish, and immediately notice your muffin missing from it’s spot on your desk. Bewildered, you begin to search around the classroom with your eyes to locate the stolen baked good. Not finding it with anyone on your sides or in front of you, you swing around to check out the suspects hiding from view.

Ding ding ding!

You found it. Well, you found half of it. The attractive boy that had pestered you yesterday had the other half of your precious muffin stuffed in his cheeks like some sort of squirrel. Caught, he gives the best grin he can with his mouth full, including his eyes crinkling and his eyes shining with mischief.

“Excuse me, you can’t just steal people’s breakfasts right off their desks! Who raised you?!” you whisper yelled. You could feel the blood rush to your cheeks from being flustered, and hoped he couldn’t see.

“Wuh yahr warn ehten et,” he replied, cheeks still full.

“Ugh, at least swallow first you animal!”

“Well, you weren’t eating it,” he flashes a grin.

“Um, excuse me sir, who allowed you to go around stealing people’s food the second you deem them to be not interested in it,” you snapped.

“Oohhh, can you say that again?” As he spoke, he raised an eyebrow while his eyes traveled up your body.

“Say what?” Your flat tone gave away your high level of irritation at him.

“Call me sir again, sweetheart. I think you and I both liked it,” he leaned forward as he spoke. His gaze was challenging, almost to see if you were able to handle him.

The truth is, if this asshole hadn’t just stolen your goddamn muffin you’d be happy to do so --- outside of the classroom --- anytime. The guy, you remember being named Taehyung, had gorgeous dark curls that anyone would dream about pulling on. His dark eyes were enigmatic, and by every definition intense. Tanned skin, clear and smooth only made him seem more ethereal. HIs natural looks, coupled with an artistic and sophisticated fashion sense, made him look like a character of a k-drama.

But, this guy had some audacity if you’ve ever seen any. So, you weren’t going to give into his charm as easily as he wanted.

Slowly, you lean forward on his desk, allowing him to get a good view of your tits while you lift a hand to his mouth, to swipe away excess crumbs that had been forgotten during his cookie monster moment. You lightly trace his bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, pushing down just hard enough for the flesh to ripple.

His eyes become more hooded, obviously thinking he had won you over with his charms.

“Why would I call someone sir, if they need to clean up after like a child, hmm?” You dropped your voice as you spoke, not only trying to limit prying ears but also to give yourself a more sultry sound.

You lean back and retract your arm. But instead of letting it drop, you raise the hand you had reached out to him to your face, and pop your thumb into your mouth. While your lips are still encircling your thumb, you let your eyes meet his.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting him to look as affected as he does. His eyes are narrow, surely from your jibe. However, you see that he seems to be breathing a little heavier than before, and that his hands were gripping the edges of his desk with more force than would be considered normal. This makes the veins and tendons pop on his already large and beautiful hands and you can’t help but let your eyes linger on them for a little.

“Mmm, I did a good job with these muffins, I can tell even with just crumbs,” you say after popping your thumb out of your mouth.

Catching you off guard, a cheery voice asks from over your turned around shoulder, “Oooo, are you sharing muffins? I love muffins!”

You turn around in your seat quickly in response. “Oh, uh, yeah.” You bend over and grab the other muffin you brought with you, thinking you’d eat it as a snack later in the day. Oh well.

You hand the muffin over, and quickly realize this is the same guy that sat in front of you yesterday, the cute one with the even cuter smile.

“Yay! Thank you so much! You’re my new favorite person!” he declared. He was giving you a smile even bigger than the one that you had swooned over prior, and really looked like the embodiment of sunshine. “My name is Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi.”

“I’m y/n! And don’t worry about the muffin, I have about a million back at home. I went on a bit of a baking spree yesterday,” you giggled.

You hear a surprised scoff come from behind you. Apparently, Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome is unhappy with the heat you gave him, now knowing that not only did you have much more at home, but had another with you. And you gave it away. You can’t help but let out a small smile at his indignation.

“It’s nice to meet you y/n! I hope I’ll get to have more of your treats in the future, this is delicious!” Hoseok says, already taking a bite.

You give him a wide smile in return. “If you want, I can save you one of whatever I make. I love to bake new things all the time.”

Hoseok begins to reply, but is cut off by the professor starting class. His eyes widen a little, surprised at the intrusion, but quickly sends you an apologetic smile as he turns around to face the lecturer.

Prepared for social hour to be over, because frankly, this was way too much for you at 9 am, you pulled out your notes. As you straighten up, you feel a presence behind your ear. Being this close, you could smell a musky, dark, masculine scent wash over you.

“I hope you save some for me too, sweetheart. I’m a growing boy,” Taehyung huskily murmurs, quiet enough to be missed by anyone else.

Cheeks hot at the double meaning of his words, all you manage to get out was a flat, “No promises.” Hoping to appear unaffected by him, you go right back to paying attention to your professor. Hoseok, in front of you, was oblivious to your and Taehyung’s hushed conversation and was busy scribbling away in his notes. You take a deep breath, and follow suit.

Unfortunately, calculus is as hard as you remember. As the professor lectured, you could feel whatever understanding you had previously drift away. You write notes at a furious pace, in hopes that whatever you copy down you’ll understand at a later time.

You sigh after your professor dismisses class. You are feeling frustrated that even during the first week, you seem to be slipping behind in your understanding of the class material.

“Hey are you okay? Class was a lot today, huh.” Hoseok turned around in his chair to speak, seeming to have caught your pitiful sigh. You glace up to meet his eyes, your expression slightly sheepish.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just not very good at calculus,” you admit with a small smile.

He gives you a sunny smile in return. “Do you wanna study together? I actually like math. I know, I’m strange for that.”

Your eyes widen a little in surprise. He barely knows you but is offering to help you with the subject you struggle with the most. It was a no-brainer.

“Oh my gosh, yes! I’d love to have a study partner for this class. I’m so worried about falling behind.” You feel your face fall into a small pout at your confession.

“Can I join? I’m not too great at math either.” You jump a little, completely forgetting about the human pain in the ass behind you.

“Of course! The more the merrier!” Hoseok beams, looking past you to the boy behind. “I’m Hoseok, but everyone just calls me Hobi.”

“I’m Taehyung, nice to meet you.” He gives Hoseok a grin as he introduces himself, seemingly never not up to trouble.

“You too! Do you guys want to meet tomorrow? We can go to the coffee shop around the corner from here,” Hoseok suggests.

You nod, and Taehyung gives a noise of agreement behind you, before asking, “Do you guys want to trade numbers? That way we don’t have to wait to see each other to get help.”

Internally, you sigh, having a feeling he was going to use your number for more than just that. Regardless, you comply. The three of you swap your phones, inputting your contact information, and stand to exit the classroom as a new stream of students enter waiting for the next class to start.

“Bye guys! See you tomorrow!” Hoseok flashes his signature sunny smile as you depart.

“Bye Hobi!” You smile at him in response. Taehyung gives his own goodbye to the boy.

After Hoseok heads off a different direction, Taehyung leans closer to you to give you your own farewell. “Goodbye y/n, see you tomorrow sweetheart,” he basically purrs at you.

You give him a glare in response. “Bye, Taehyung.” After, you swiftly make your exit. That boy was a handful, to say the least. But, as much as you hate to admit it, he was hot. Like really hot. While Hoseok had that ‘boy next door’ quality, Taehyung oozed sex appeal. You were really going to have to train yourself to act normal around those two, if you were going to be spending extended time alone with them. Heading to your next class, you decide that is a problem for later.

#BTS #ot7 #ot7 x reader #poly ot7 #fanfic

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justmypartner · 3 years

Text

Make it Work: Chapter 3

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another.

Writer’s Note: This is just a fluffy transitional chapter. Next chapter we’ll dive deeper into the meat of the story, but I think this chapter still has some pretty important conversations that touch a lot on their relationship/dynamic. Thank you to everyone who has been following this story so far! I really appreciate the feedback and kind words! :)

Tagging: @angelsjedi , @brookerz122493 , @cpdfan2014 , @the--carousel , @maya-asturias

Read on AO3 or below

“You’ve been to New York before, right?” Hailey asked as Jay peered out the window of the plane, looking at the illuminated streets and buildings down below. It was a late flight into New York, so their plan was to crash as soon as they arrived and take the next day to get settled in.

“Uh, yeah a few times. The last few times it was for work. We flew out to work with Manhattan SVU on a few cases,” he said. The thought brought back a flood of memories, most of them ones he had tried to forget.

“I think I’ve heard Voight talk about that before. He’s close with the Sergeant there right? Her name is something Benson?” she questioned.

“Yeah, Olivia Benson. Last I heard she’s a Captain now. She’s a great cop though, reminds me a lot of you actually,” he said

“Oh yeah?” She questioned, sounding shocked by the compliment.

“For sure. She’s got this real solid exterior like nothing can touch her, but somehow she’s still able to have this bleeding heart underneath it all. It makes her great at what she does, and it also just makes her a total badass. We had lost one of our own through one of the cases we were working with her. Erin took it hard, but Olivia was really good to her through it all,” he said, shocking himself with the way Erin’s name thoughtlessly fell out of his mouth.

“We’ve never really talked about Erin before,” Hailey muttered, almost like she was saying it to herself. Jay took a deep breath, brows raising as he realized the truth behind the statement.

“Yeah, I mean- there’s not much to say,” he said unconvincingly. Hailey had come into his life at the burning end of his relationship with Erin. It was at a point when they weren’t close enough to talk about it, but she was present enough to figure out what was going on. After Erin left, the relationship was something he and Hailey never discussed, despite her being left with the carnage of it all. As his partnership with her developed, he noticed her picking up the pieces of him that Erin had left behind. He didn’t know it at the time, but in a way she was saving him. When his feelings for Hailey began to shift, he started to think back on that onset period of their partnership. Part of this reflection made his feelings grow even stronger because he realized nobody in his life had ever pushed him the way Hailey did, and she did it before she ever really knew him. Instead of giving up on him or even just abandoning him altogether, she stayed and she made him fight to work on himself.

“Do you ever talk to her?” Hailey asked timorously, interrupting Jay’s wandering thoughts.

“I haven’t talked to her since she left, no. She’s reached out to Voight a few times. Last he told me she’s working at some FBI office in London,” he told her. She responded only through a nod and a hum.

“As much as her leaving messed me up, I know now that we never would’ve lasted even if she had stayed,” he admitted, looking over at Hailey who had a hopeful look on her face. “I can’t blame it all on her because I was messed up back then too, but we just weren’t good for each other. Instead of pushing each other to be better, we made it a pattern to just push each other away when things got tough. I now realize that if a partnership is going to work, you’ve gotta fight for it even when things get tough. You taught me that,” he said, looking down at Hailey with a sentimental look.

She looked back at him silently, her eyes peering into Jay’s affectionately. After a moment, her lips parted slightly as if she were going to say something, but instead she just pursed her lips into a light smile.

“Yeah, I only did it because I didn’t want to search for another partner. Too much work,” she teased, causing Jay to bump her elbow playfully.

“Seriously though. I’ve never thanked you for it, but I’m really grateful you stuck around. I know it wasn’t easy, but I’m definitely a better person because of you,” he confessed sincerely. The amusement fell from her face as she tilted her head to the side, taking in his words wholeheartedly.

“You know I could say the same for you? You’ve stuck around me more times than I can count, especially when I’ve done some pretty questionable things. It’s why we work. We’re better together,” she said, bumping her shoulder up against his. She smiled warmly at him, leaving him utterly smitten. That one look from her confirmed to him that he made the right decision taking the job. She was meant to be in his life, and he was meant to be in hers. He was just grateful she gave him the opportunity to make that possible. She eventually broke their gaze, sighing shakily before changing the subject.

“So when you were in the city, did you get to do any sightseeing?” she asked.

“Not at all. It was straight from the airport to the precinct. We were so busy with the cases I never really got to even take it in. Even though this isn’t going to be my first time there, it’s going to be my first time really getting to know it. Did you get the chance to poke around when you were there?”

“Yeah, a bit. OA took me around to different bars after shift a few nights. During the day, he would show me the best little hole in the wall lunch spots. Mainly my experience was chasing cases and food,” she chuckled. “There was this one spot he pointed me towards. A must see, he called it. I ended up going there my last night and honestly that spot alone would be enough to make you want to move. It’s a big field of grass at the edge of the city right by the river. To me it was a refreshing reminder that nature can still exist in the city, and it was just so quiet and peaceful. I sat there and watched the sunset, just absolutely amazed by the view, but also surprised by the way I was falling in love with the city. Actually, I think I took some pictures. Let me see,” she said, pulling out her phone.

As she pulled out her phone to show him, he leaned over to get a better look. His face was close to hers and their shoulders squished tightly together as he got a better look of the photos. She swiped through pictures of the sun peeking through buildings and others of purplish pink skies above the Williamsburg Bridge. The last swipe revealed a photo of her smiling in front of the sunset. The light gave her face a glowing tone and her hair was down, her light waves framing her face perfectly.

“That’s a great picture,” he said softly, struck by her beauty. He turned his head to look at her the same time she did, their faces so close together he could feel her breath on his face. She inhaled sharply before turning back to her phone, her face turning a bright red.

“Thanks,” she said bashfully. “Anyway, you’ll definitely have to go there yourself. Pictures don’t do it justice,” she said, putting her phone away.

Jay didn’t realize it, but he was still staring at her, his position not moving from when they were face to face a few minutes prior. When she shifted to look over at him again, he quickly adjusted, moving backward in his seat and distancing himself from her. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself.

“Um yeah, totally. It looks really nice,” he stammered out, embarrassed she had caught him in the gaze.

After the conversation, they sat in silence until they ended up dozing off for the rest of the flight. They both woke just before landing and debarked the plane in silence with all of the other sluggish passengers. By the time they landed, it was 2am and the airport was eerily quiet as they walked through the terminal to get to the cab stand. Their places were just a few blocks away from one another, so they decided to share a cab into the city. Being that it was so late, they didn’t have to wait long to find a ride. Jay opened the door as it pulled up, letting Hailey slide in first and climbing in right after.

“Despite how exhausted I am, this is already a better experience from last time,” she uttered, leaning her head back into the seat. He sent her a questioning look, urging her to elaborate. “I was so angry and confused that day, I’m pretty sure I spent the entire flight with a permanent frown on my face. I was so pissed off.. at myself, at Voight, at the situation. It took me until I was walking in the doors of the FBI for me to actually process what was happening,” she admitted, her eyes looking into the ceiling.

“Yeah, that first day at work without you was pretty weird. Voight told me immediately that you had taken an assignment in New York. He wouldn’t give me anything more. Said if I wanted details I needed to ask you,” he responded, his head leaned against the glass.

Hailey frowned at his words, quietly staring into the floor as if she were deep in thought.

Jay would never admit it, but he was pretty messed up that day thinking she had just gone off for good without saying goodbye. He called her after shift to make sure she was okay. She was brief, but she cleared up what Voight didn’t: the assignment was temporary and it wasn’t her decision. The next few weeks, they kept in touch more through FaceTime and text. It soon became a natural thing for them to call each other in the evenings as they unwound from their days. As nice as those moments were, he was glad that it was a temporary thing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye,” she finally mumbled, barely loud enough for Jay to hear. He turned to look at her, tilting his head slightly as he questioned her words.

“I thought about going over to your place that night to tell you, but I was so embarrassed by the reason he was shipping me off, I didn’t think I could face you. I should’ve told you though,“ she admitted, a furtive look on her face.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he told her, shaking his head lightly.

“No, but I did then. You’ve had enough people in your life leave without saying goodbye. I should’ve been there to explain it myself. You’re my partner and you deserved an explanation,” she said bluntly, eyes holding steady ahead of her to avoid his.

“Hailey, we’re good. And for what it’s worth, you never have to be embarrassed with me,” he noted, flashing her a sincere smile. She nodded meekly, smiling back before sighing and leaning back into her seat.

He meant what he said. She didn’t owe him an explanation, but he did appreciate the sentiment. It gave him hope about the permanence of her in his life. Every conversation they shared that night comforted him in a way. Even though talking about Erin wasn’t his favorite, it was relieving to get some of what he said off his chest.

As they drove towards the city, he recognized the irony of it all. New York was the thing that kept him and Erin apart, but it became the thing keeping him and Hailey together. Whatever New York was before, it was now his home. He wasn’t sure how long it would take to actually feel like home, but part of him knew that Hailey’s presence already made it feel that way. He looked over at her, knowing that whatever uncertainties he encountered from then on out, she would be his constant. A smile crept across his face in the dark, and he leaned his head back into the window, taking in the new city with a newfound anticipation.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #upstead fic

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thetiredbiwrites · 4 years

Text

And then...

Dad!Tony x Son!Reader

(mentions of Uncle Rhodey)

Anon: // hello can you do angsty tony x Son reader. Tony and reader has strained relationship and they we're not in good terms, Tony prefer Peter than his son but it got change when both of them got kidnapped, they been together for a few days and slowly they reconciled. Soon they got save by the avengers but the Son Reader notice that one kidnapper pulled a weapon to Tony then R save his father, he got shot then Tony is scared to see his son dying. Its up to you the ending. ☺

A/N: Thank you for the Tony request 🤗🤗 Hope this is ok! (I love dad!Tony, I think he’d be so good...even though this fic is on a different note🤔😂)

Warnings: Cliff hanger end. It was getting pretty long and I wanted to upload something before bed (which also means it hasn’t been checked but oh well, I’ll re-read it tomorrow) BUT I do plan on doing a part 2 :)

(Also swearing, just always assume swearing)

Words: 3100+

Tony’s relationship with his son had always been strained. Ever since he was practically dumped on his doorstep at 4 years old.

Tony had no prior knowledge that he has a kid, none of the women he’s been with had ever even told him they were pregnant. But if he was being honest with himself, it didn’t surprise him. With the way he got around it was bound to happen eventually.

He just wished he’d known from the beginning.

Having a 4 year old left in his care with no warning put him in a whole new territory he was completely unprepared for.

A baby gives you time to prepare and are essentially a ‘blank slate’ at birth. A 4 year old has experiences, like and dislikes, routines, a connection to someone who abandons them with a stranger…

At the time, Tony was still a playboy, out at events and travelling a lot. As well as CEO of a company manufacturing weapons for the military. He didn’t have time for a child. To break through recently arisen trust and abandonment issues and build a relationship.

He cared about his son. Always made sure he had everything he needed or wanted, a good education and was in good health. But forming personal, emotional connections can’t be done with money, and Tony could barley cope with his own true emotions.

It quickly became clear that they did not share talents or interest in maths, sciences or mechanics. His son struggled especially with maths and Tony initially really did try to help, finally thinking something was in his element and he could bond.

But elementary (followed by middle and high) maths was so simple and automatic for Tony’s brain that he found it difficult to slow down and explain the process to the young boy.

He hired a tutor in his place.

That’s not to say Tony expected or needed his son to be a genius in the same subjects as him. He didn’t need his son to follow him (or his father) to be worthy of his time. But it would have made it easier.

Instead, his son excelled in English and arts, and was amazing in the kitchen. He loved to write stories, create pictures to accompany them and experimenting with new recipes.

Unfortunately, Tony did not excel in these areas, thus distancing them further.

At least he wasn’t taking after his father though. He didn’t force his son into one path or degrade him. No forcing him to grow up, giving him alcohol at a ridiculously young age or sending him away to be completely alone.

Tony often wondered himself if he’d have taken the path he did if his father hadn’t pushed him. If he’d be the same person without the verbal abuse and constant neglect of his father.

He wasn’t blind to his emotional distance and lack of bond to his son. Or to the connection the boy had to both Rhodey and Pepper. He could see that his son was connect to the two people he trusted the most and he was glad.

When Rhodey was available, being in the air force meant he wasn’t always around, he made sure to take the boy out, go to school events and even read his stories, giving feedback and support.

Pepper made herself available if he ever needed to talk and was always willing to taste test.

Even Happy was around to take him where he needed to go, training in the gym and joke with.

So even if the young boy didn’t have a relationship with his father, he had adults around to support and love him and help him through life.

It didn’t stop him wishing he did have a relationship to his father though.

While MIA in Afghanistan, Tony realised he wanted to try harder to build a relationship to his nearly teenaged son.

It didn’t happen.

He returned home and completely changed his company, which required a lot of time. His guilt also led in him to putting on that damn suit and trying to save the world.

And then he nearly died from palladium poisoning.

And then New York was attacked by aliens and the avengers were formed.

And then Tony had PTSD; anxiety, panic attacks and nightmares.

And then ‘terrorists’ blew up their house and nearly killed Happy and Pepper.

And then murderous robots.

And then the avengers broke up.

And then Tony worked with the UN to amend the accords and set up more help and cleaning crews. Back to lots of travelling.

And then…

And then… Peter.

It never eased up and his son turned 18.

His son made excuses over the years. He genuinely was busy and obviously struggled with relationships. Maybe he’s just not paternal? You can’t blame someone for trying to save lives either.

Of course he was aware it isn’t all on Tony, he could have tried harder to bond with his father as well.

But then Peter came along.

Scientifically and mathematically gifted Peter.

Superhero Peter.

Enthusiastic, smart and funny 15 year old Peter.

And then Tony had the time.

He made the time.

For Peter.

To talk to him. Help with his homework and superheroing.

Teaching him. Training him.

They spent a lot of time in the workshop and lab.

Tony was always so interested in what Peter had to say. Whether is was about science or mechanics, school, spider-man or even teenage romance.

It came so easily and naturally to Tony.

He had the time.

Even the team had noticed this relationship and dubbed them ‘Iron-Dad and Spider-Son’.

That hurt.

The time he overheard Clint comment, ‘why couldn’t we have had dad-Tony this whole time?’ really stung.

Tony’s been a dad, to a son, the entire time he’s known the avengers.

He didn’t hate Peter though. It’s not his fault and he’s actually perfectly nice. But to see his father so easily bond with another kid in a short time made him realise that he’d never get that father-son relationship.

Tony is paternal. Just not for him.

His eyes fluttered open, the ground cold against his face.

Wait, ground? What-

A groan passed his lips as he sat up, pressing a hand to the side of his head where pain radiated.

He blinked the fuzziness from his eyes, trying to remember how he got there, but the last thing he could recall was leaving the Stark Industries event after supporting Pepper.

The room was dull and very basic. With stone walls and floor, no windows, one dim light and two metal framed beds so rusty they would probably break under his weight.

As he glanced back down to the ground, he noticed another body in the room. They were still slumped on the ground and back to him.

Scrambling across the floor, he pushed on the mans shoulder to lay in on his back and see his face.

Dad?

Quickly he checked for a pulse and when he was satisfied with the regular thumping, he moved away, letting out a sigh of relief.

With his back to the wall, arms resting on his bent knees, he waited.

It was only a short while later when Tony began to wake. Groaning and sitting up in the same manner his son had moments earlier.

“Oh God, what the hell-where am I?” He mumbled, clearly unaware he wasn’t alone.

“I was hoping you’d know the answer”

Tony’s head snapped over at the grumbled voice to see his son.

“Y/N. What- what are you doing here?”

“hell if I know. Can’t imagine why anyone would take me. I generally don’t piss people off and I’m neither an Avenger or a tech genius.”

“Maybe they mistook you for me” Tony joke, completely oblivious to his sons disinterested and cold tone.

He shuffled back to lean against the opposite wall as his son scoffed.

“Sorry kid, you got the Stark looks.”

“Yeah, that’s all I got” the young man mumbled, leaning his head back on the wall, closing his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

Silence fell between them until the door opened.

The two men rose to their feet as two armed guards entered the room, a third following with a tray of unappealing food and bottled water.

Neither Stark was acknowledged as the tray was placed on one of the beds and they turned to leave. They even ignored Tony’s incessant questioning and cocky attitude.

His son stayed silent, taking on of the bottles as he sat back on the floor, still not ready to trust the beds.

“Could they just answer a simple question? They got to have a fucking reason for this.”

“Whatever it is I wish they’d just hurry up with it.”

“What, are you bored? Got places to be?” Tony asked, before taking his seat back on the floor.

“Yes, actually. I have an interview Monday and I’m not ready.”

“An interview? What for?”

“Like you actually care.”

“Hey, that’s not-“ Tony began to object but his son looked over at him and cut him off.

“Unless it’s about Peter or Superhero shit, you don’t want to know. You haven’t magically become interested, you just don’t like the silence and unfortunately I’m the only one here. You never cared about what was actually happening in my life before, why start now?”

Tony stared at his son in shock. It’s hard to make The Tony Stark speechless, but right now he had no words at all.

As his son dropped his head back to the wall, looking away from him, Tony couldn’t take his eyes off his son.

Thoughts ran through his head as he examined his son, becoming aware of how little he really did know.

-When did he get so tall? Not tall-tall though, definitely the Stark gene at work there.

-That suit makes him look so grown up, even if those a-holes took our jackets and shoes. Why did they take our shoes? No. Not important. Focus.

-I care about my son. Come on Tony, think. Something.

-School? Crap, when did I last even read a report card? He’s always aced English. Didn’t he do band? No, shit, that was Peter. Goddamnit, is he right?

“You’re 18.”

“Well done. You want a medal?”

“Is the interview for college?”

His son still didn’t move, wouldn’t even look at him.

“Please, Y/N. I-I know I’ve not really been… present in your life. But I do care about you.”

“Do you?” His eyes burned long repressed anger and Tony prepared himself for everything that was coming. He knew he’d deserve it too.

“You gave up so easily. It was too hard to bond with your idiot son, a shy kid who couldn’t understand simple maths. You’d rather be with women and go to parties, and the company always came first. All you did was throw money at things. For year I was fine with it, you using money to help me. I had more than more. It was clear you struggled with relationships of any kind and I was just dumped on you with no warning. It was fine because I had Rhodey, Pepper and Happy. They were there to talk to, they taught me things and supported me, Rhodey would go to school events whenever he could. I just figured maybe you’re not a paternal person. Then you became Iron Man and started saving the world and I can’t be mad about that.”

Tony stayed silent and watched as his son stood up, running a hand through his hair as he began to pace.

“Then you met Harley and kept in touch with him. You upgraded his garage into a high-tech lab. But he did help you save Pepper and the President so I guess you owed him and I didn’t let it bother me. It wasn’t until Peter came along that I noticed that you are one of the most naturally paternal people I know. You became his father figure, took him in so quickly, bonding immediately. If he needed help, you were there. He wanted to talk, you listened. Whether it’s out being Iron Man and Spider-man, training him, helping him with his school work or just locking yourselves in the workshop for hours building new shit. You’re always there for him. He witters on about some stupid crush for 25 minutes and you hang on every word. But you couldn’t do that for me?! What, did I need to be a genius at maths?! Interested in building extravagant technology?! Would you have noticed me then? You know, you went to Peter’s science show last month but you’ve never been to any of my school events. It was always Rhodey, Pepper and Happy a couple times, or no-one. But never you.”

The young man stared at his father, chest heaving, eyes burning as he held back tears. Yet Tony said nothing. He couldn’t take his eyes off his son. Lips parted and eyes glistening with unshed tears, he just sat, no words coming out.

“Yeah I’m 18 any yeah it’s a college interview. I graduate in a few weeks, Rhodey’s going. I’ve already been accepted to a couple colleges. Only a few months and I can leave.”

He didn’t give Tony a chance to respond as he risked the bed, laying down and facing the wall as he focused on bringing his breathing back to normal.

Behind him, his father watched on as tears fell down his face, guilt taking over his whole being.

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the night. While his son eventually fell asleep, Tony stayed on the floor, thinking through everything his son told him and looking back over the years.

The following morning, two guard came in and took Tony away.

They brought him back a few hours later, unharmed. The younger Stark watched as Tony worried his bottom lip and fussed with his clothes. He noted the troubled look on his father’s face and it was clear that whatever the kidnappers told him wasn’t good at all.

But he remained silent.

Eventually Tony settled, sitting on the floor again. But the two still didn’t speak for a few more hours.

“I’m sorry,” Tony finally broke through the silence and tense atmosphere of the confined space.

His son remained silent but his eyes moved up to look at him. This was enough of an acknowledgement that he was listening and so Tony continued.

“You might not believe that, but I am. I don’t know why it was so hard or why it was so easy with Peter. I didn’t- It wasn’t intentional, I didn’t even realise.”

The young Stark kept his eyes on his father but his face stayed blank and lips sealed.

“And you know, just because maths and science subjects didn’t come naturally to you doesn’t mean you’re an idiot. I’ve never once thought you were. I know the Stark name has become so tied to them, mechanics, advanced technology and engineering… but it doesn’t mean you’re not…good enough? Because you don’t follow that. I never thought you should have been, it didn’t-didn’t disappoint me or anything. But you were always so talented in arts, you wrote the most amazing stories and a complete natural in the kitchen. Things I’m not so great at. It just made it harder for me to figure out how to connect. I didn’t know where to start.”

A small smile flashed across his face, eyes glazed as he recalled the past.

“Y’know, I loved those stories about the uh, the dragons that live on your shoulder. I’d find drawings and paintings of them all over the house, and it was a big house!”

Across from him, his son’s head raised a little higher, eyebrows subtly furrowing and looked at the soft expression on his father’s face. He had no idea Tony even know about those.

“I should have been there, tried harder. There’s no excuse for that. But I have always cared. You were just so talented in things I didn’t understand. Then I saw how close you and Rhodey became and-“

Tony let out a sigh, looking away from his son.

“You were left with me, an egotistical ass and a- a playboy. I didn’t think I deserved you. You deserved someone better. Someone emotionally available and mature. Someone to help you grow into an amazing person and progress your talents. Someone like Rhodey. He deserved you and you him. He was -and is- better for you. You were loved and supported by him, and then Pepper and Happy, so I – I thought you’d be ok. That you wouldn’t need me.”

Once again it was all quiet in the small room. This time Tony wouldn’t look at his son, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his father.

“I did need you.”

His voice was raspy as he admitted this to not only Tony but himself.

“Rhodey’s the best. I love him. Couldn’t have asked for a better Uncle. But that’s what he is; my Uncle. You were supposed to be my Dad. I shouldn’t have had a father figure when my father was right there. You were so cool, before and after becoming Iron Man. You made everything around you seem like fun. I didn’t understand the tech crap but- I’m an artist. I can, and did, design things. It’s not all on you, I didn’t make it easy.”

“You were a kid, it is on me. But, maybe- When we get out of here I’ll do better. I want to be an active part in your life. I also understand if it’s too late though.”

“It’s not. It’ll take time but, I’d like that. Rhodey might get jealous though.”

A huffed laugh slipped past Tony’s lips as they spread into a smile on his face when his son cracked a grin.

They continued to talk into the night, about school, which colleges and courses, friends and dating. Once they started they couldn’t stop.

It is hard to shut up a Stark.

They were laughing about one of Tony’s stories of his time in MIT with Rhodey when an explosion shook the room.

The men stood up and faced the door as the sounds of fighting and yelling grew nearer. A smirk spread on Tony’s face as he recognised the noises of his teammates.

It wasn’t long before the door was broken down and Captain America stood in it’s place.

“Bout damn time. Did you stop for coffee?”

“Yeah, yeah, tin man. You’re welcome.” Hawkeye quipped as they walked down the halls.

Rhodey broke through to get to his nephew’s side, checking him over and ensuring he was ok.

Tony led the group to the main room. The kidnappers had access to files and tech that would be too dangerous to leave.

As Tony wiped everything, quips flowing between him and his teammates, none of them noticed the man sneak in through another door.

The younger Stark moved before his brain could even process what was happening, placing himself between his father and the gun that was raised to his back.

*bang*

#tony stark x reader #platonic tony stark x reader #platonic!tony stark x reader #tony stark x son!reader #tony stark x son #tony stark imagine #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert

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saint-14s-gay-pigeon · 4 years

Text

Post-Hunt Nap

Atlas lets his hair down after a long day.

"Nice work, Guardian." Crow's voice crackled to life through the comms, serving as Atlas’s signal that the hunt was finally over. It had become routine by this point to check in after every successful Wrathborn elimination, and the calm cadence of Crow’s words was a welcome relief after the incessant shrieking, wailing, and roaring that the creatures were prone to.

Atlas merely basked in it a moment while leaning against a rock to catch his breath. This particular hunt had ended up being a much more demanding ordeal than originally anticipated, and his eventual response was weighed down by fatigue despite his best efforts. "Thanks. You, too."

"How are you doing?" He hadn't managed to hide his condition very well, judging by the concern in Crow’s voice.

If Crow already knew, there was no point in lying. "Well, I'm exhausted and covered in Wrathborn gunk," Atlas admitted with a short laugh, trying to keep his complaining lighthearted. He scrunched his nose in distaste. "What is this stuff, anyway?"

There was a pause. "If you're covered in it, you probably don't want me to answer that."

"I second that," Glint chimed in.

Atlas sighed. "Lovely. Can I borrow your shower before I head out again?"

Crow wasn't entirely sure the Titan would fit inside what passed for a shower in his quarters considering even he found it cramped, but he wasn't about to say no. "Sure. Drop by the workshop when you can."

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

The water was cold and probably not much cleaner than the gunk it was washing away, and it was indeed cramped, but to Atlas it was the most refreshing shower he’d had in ages. He emerged a short time later in his civilian clothes to find Crow absentmindedly munching on a Bittersweet Biscotti while looking over the Cryptolith Lure.

"I'll admit," Atlas chuckled as he toweled at his hair with an old rag, "I thought you were lying when you said you liked them."

"They're not that bad," objected Crow, joining in the laughter as he finished his examination of the Lure. When he finally looked up at Atlas, however, he stopped short.

"Something wrong?" Atlas asked, setting the rag to the side.

Crow shook his head and swallowed, quickly coming back to himself. "I've just... never seen you with your hair down. Didn't realise how long it was." Did that sound weird? That sounded weird.

"And what do you think?" Atlas asked with a teasing grin.

"Ah… You look good. It suits you." Crow was thankful the dim light of the workshop would likely obscure the faint purple blush dusting his cheeks. He considered it a personal favour that Glint had refrained from commenting, although he could practically feel the little Ghost’s eye on him. It was probably better to change the subject before he had the chance to change his mind.

“So… that was a hell of a hunt, huh?”

To Crow’s relief, Atlas readily nodded, letting the prior conversation go without a fuss. “That’s putting it mildly. Didn’t expect two of them to show up at once,” he agreed. “At least the lure’s definitely working.”

“You did well,” Crow said, and Atlas fought through the fatigue to offer a grin in return, preening slightly at the praise. Crow couldn’t help but chuckle at the display; he hadn’t expected his words to carry that much weight.

With a tired but content sigh, Atlas slowly lowered himself to the floor of the workshop, leaning carefully against the most solid-looking of the walls. The shower was refreshing, but after so many hours of hunting, he was still thoroughly spent. He gestured to his side with a pat of the floor, beckoning Crow to join him. “Don’t sell yourself short, either,” he told Crow, smiling up at him. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Now it was Crow’s turn to be proud of himself. A grin bloomed across his face as he accepted the invitation, taking a seat next to the Titan and enjoying the grounding sense of calm that the subtle contact between their knees imparted. The workshop, for all its faults, was always better with company.

“Always happy to help,” Crow replied, casually resting his elbows on his legs. And it was true; even on days when securing the perimeter ended up being uneventful, he still enjoyed getting to see the Guardian in action. “Although you caught me by surprise today,” he admitted, thinking back on Atlas’s earlier performance. “I don’t often see you use void Light.”

“It doesn’t come naturally to me like arc does,” Atlas agreed, picking up on the unspoken question. Even now, he could feel the current of energy buzzing just beneath his skin. “I needed something more defensive, though, and Saint’s been teaching me some things. Figured it was worth a shot.”

“Saint?” Crow asked, tilting his head.

“Saint-14, Osiris’s partner,” Atlas explained. “They call him the greatest Titan who ever lived.”

“Atlas is gunning for his title,” Achilles half-joked, chiming in with an excited twirl. He never missed a chance to hype up his Guardian.

Crow laughed softly at the Ghost’s interjection, then nodded thoughtfully. “I didn’t know Osiris was in a relationship; he’s never mentioned him.”

Compared to Crow’s laugh, Atlas’s was a bright, rich sound. “That’s not surprising. Getting Osiris to share personal details is like asking Spider to donate Glimmer to charity. Hell, it took me ages to figure out he and Saint were together and I’d met both of them.” The Titan’s mouth skewed into a silly, lopsided grin of self-deprecation. “Although truth be told, I probably should’ve picked up on it sooner.”

The room fell silent after that save for the rhythmic rattling of the pipes, the conversation hanging in the air until Glint eventually spoke up.

“What about you?” he asked, dipping his shell toward Atlas. He knew what Crow was thinking, and he had no problem taking matters into his own metaphorical hands if Crow wasn’t going to say it himself. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Crow’s eyes immediately widened. “Glint!” he hissed, his gaze snapping to the Ghost.

Glint responded by shifting the sides of his shell as though shrugging. “No harm in being curious.”

Atlas merely laughed again, seemingly oblivious to the exchange. “Not these days, no. I’d like to be, but…” He tilted his head to the side as he considered how to elaborate. “This lifestyle,” he eventually settled, “is demanding, of both your time and attention. It can be hard to find someone who’s willing to live with that.”

Not that he could blame anyone for feeling that way. He thought back to his last relationship: a Hunter and fellow Awoken with pink hair and boundless optimism. The two of them were still good friends, but had mutually agreed that trying to forge a romance on top of saving a broken world had been too great an ask, even for them. He hoped she was doing well.

Crow nodded slowly, his brows knitting together in an expression of sympathy. Glint had refused to give him the full rundown of Atlas’s accomplishments, but it was his understanding that there were many, and Atlas specifically was a big deal even among other Guardians. It wasn’t surprising to hear he’d given himself entirely to the cause and left little room for his own personal happiness.

Unsure of how else to respond, Crow eventually spoke in a soft voice while staring at his hands. “I... hope you find them soon.”

Atlas replied with a small smile of gratitude. It wasn’t a subject he’d given much thought recently, nor was he in any particular rush to find a partner of his own, but he appreciated the sentiment regardless. When he opened his mouth to say as much however, he was instead interrupted by a powerful yawn.

The distant melancholy of Crow’s expression quickly gave way to a concerned frown as he noticed how the Titan was now struggling to keep his eyes open. “You shouldn’t fly like this,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. The calm of the conversation had finally provided a chance for the adrenaline to wear off, it seemed.

Atlas nodded and yawned again. As rich as it was to be receiving flying advice from Crow of all people, he was right, of course, and not even Atlas was stubborn enough to try to argue it. “I’ll get some rest before I head out,” he promised.

“Good. You can stay here, if you’d like. I don’t have much in the way of bedding but I can…” Crow’s voice slowly trailed off as he registered a gentle weight on his shoulder. Atlas’s head had fallen to the side and was now resting against him, navy blue hair cascading down his arm.

One look at Atlas’s face confirmed he was already dozing off.

“Should I wake him up?” Achilles asked, hovering at a short distance. He made to approach Atlas, but Crow reached out his free hand to stop him.

Maybe he was getting used to supporting Atlas in his work, and this was somehow an extension of that. Or maybe he just enjoyed the physical contact with another Lightbearer. Whatever the reason, he found he wasn’t in any rush to chase Atlas off.

Crow chuckled quietly as he shifted on the spot, careful not to disturb the Titan as he adjusted his position to be comfortable enough to remain seated for a while. “It’s okay,” he assured the Ghost. “I’m happy to help.”

#destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #destiny fanfiction #the Crow #season of the hunt #my writing #my guardians #Atlas #just felt like having them hang out and be friends y'know?

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collectionofcherries · 4 years

Note

👀couldnt help but notice you talking about hannibal in your billy loomis imagine 👀 also couldnt help but to notice thats in your fandom list 👀 maybe you should shoot your shot with an imagine with hanni 👀

So over on my Naruto blog I did a little fluff piece called Morning Coffee that everyone seemed to enjoy so I thought I'd bring it here. It’s a simple concept, it follows your morning to the start of your cup to the end of it. Hope you enjoy! --- ☕ Morning Coffee ☕

---

written in the mind-frame of a Female!Reader but there are no pronouns mentioned nor gender specific anatomical body parts. Warnings: None, flirting with the idea of smut but no actual smut. Sexual longing maybe? Word Count: 1,155

--- Hannibal Lecter

Having coffee with a friend shouldn't have been this stressful, being this stressed in the morning couldn't be good for you but it wasn't like you could help it. How are you supposed to dress for morning coffee with a man who practically lives in three piece suits? Formal? Business casual? Casual casual? Your clothing covered floor seemed to bare no answers as you stared at what you swore was everything you owned...had everything always been this ugly? God! Why did you even propose a breakfast together? Hannibal does dinner but no you had to pitch breakfast to be different and try to impress him, yeah you're sure he'd be impressed by the amount of clothing on the floor. If you'd been like everyone else and just gone for dinner you'd have more time to try on clothes but a look at the clock told you that you had to leave now or you'd be late and that'd be terrible, that'd be rude and Hannibal can't stand people who're rude. However messy your floor was it was worth it for the compliment you got when Hannibal opened his door to greet you. “I don't see you in colour often, red looks lovely on you.” Well, guess you're wearing red for the rest of your life. "Oh thank you.” Finds it's way out of your throat as your face is painted the colour that apparently looks lovely on you. “Please, come in.” He welcomes stepping to the side to allow room. You never gave much thought to what a foyer could be, yours is technically where you just kick off your shoes and put your keys but this, this was proper foyer. Just the entrance to his house was nice. God it was big too, he could probably rent it out to a poor college kid for like 500 bucks if he wanted not that he looked like he needed the extra money. Did you even know how to say Foyer properly? You bet Hannibal did, without a doubt he knew all those fancy French words--was that word even French? Oh no, what if you were stupid and it wasn't French? What if this wasn't even a foyer? How dumb were you? H-- hands came up to your shoulders jolting you out of your spiral. Hannibal gently pulls the edges of your jacket and you immediately understand. “Thank you.” You repeat once again. He smiles with a nod as he slides your jacket off of you with your help and hangs it up on a beautiful wood stand you're sure costs more than half your rent. Thinking about how much money was within these walls could make your head spin but that spinning is halted by the soothing tones of his voice. “Lost in thought?” He inquired. “Uh, just early morning brain fog you know?” You try to bluff. It's not convincing but he nods anyway. “Perhaps some coffee would help.” “Sounds good.” You agree. Following him through his house only furthers your awe, you could spent a lifetime in here just looking at stuff. “I thought it'd be pleasant to make breakfast together instead of having it ready, eating together is one experience but preparing a meal is another entirely.” He explained The idea of sharing an experience with Hannibal was one that filled you with butterflies, the more you thought about it you didn't think you'd heard of Hannibal cooking with anyone else, maybe the stress of this morning would pay off after all. “I'm not a chef but I'll do my best, what're we making?” “Uova al purgatorio.” Which leads to a bit of a blank stare on your end, as pretty as it sounds you've got no idea what that means. “It's an Italian dish, eggs in Purgatory.” He explained. “Sounds interesting.” You quip. “It is, the name comes from the eggs sitting in a tomato base, the white of the eggs floating within the red sauce giving the illusion of souls trapped within the unknown of Purgatory.” He explains as he prepares the boiling water for your coffee. “Even at breakfast it seems we wonder where our souls go to lay.” “Well makes sense for Italy home of the Pope, I'm sure there's religious overtones at most meals.” He smiles a little and nods. “During my time in Italy it truly does surround you, it's an interesting feeling, almost euphoric to be encapsulated by it at every

turn.” He remarked. “Wow, you spent time in Italy? It looks beautiful there.” You say, trying to stray a little further from the religious aspect, you don't exactly know where Hannibal falls on that spectrum and the last thing you want to do is come across rude or disrespectful to him. “Coffee smells great.” You add as he pours the boiling water into his very fancy looking French Press. Your attempt to change subjects doesn't go unnoticed at all but he once again nods as he looks at you. “Yes, I traveled quite a bit in my youth, I called Italy my home for some time.” He explains. “Do you ever miss it?” You ask “I take with me what I relish in the places I've been, while I may no longer be surrounded by the Primavera or the walls of Santa Maria della Concezione dei Cappuccini they are ever present in my mind, reproduced with the utmost detail.” You could listen to Hannibal talk all day, it wouldn't matter what he said you just like the way he said things, the timbre of his voice. “Have you ever given thought to travelling?” He prodded. “Course, who doesn't think about travelling? See far off places, experience new people, new things, different cultures.” You reminisce. “What stops you?” You shrug a little. “Funds mainly but I'd want to take the time to learn the language of where I'm going, understand the culture so I don't offend anyone. I don't want to be one of those tourists that makes an ass out of themselves.” You said cringing at the end. “It's considerate to take the time to understand a culture you will not live in, many go on whims like they're visiting amusement parks.” He agreed. “Would Italy be a place you'd like to visit or would you find their taste for religion leaving a sour taste in your mouth?” He asked. Did you really think you'd get out of a question Hannibal wanted answered? You shrugged a little once again trying to make sure you phrase things that wouldn't step on toes that were in shoes that likely cost more than your rent. “I'm unsure...I don't know if my broader and more open views would be welcome in the narrower scope of such a religious place and I wouldn't want to impose myself or my views upon anyone.” You slowly clamber out as he pours two cups of what smells like incredibly coffee. “Thank you.” You quickly add as you take it from his hands. “While I do know you enough to welcome you into my home, I'm not sure if I know you well enough to know of the open views you believe would be scrutinized under the gaze of the Church. Do you speak a broader view of all religions? Racial rights? Sexual appetite?” You stomach almost leaps into your throat at the last question, talking sexual appetites with someone who could feed that said appetite for the rest of your life? How were you supposed to talk about that? You didn't want to impose but you certainly didn't want to miss any chance of feeding that appetite. “All of the above, you know?” You pitch at first. “I'm a big believer in religious freedoms for everyone, from anywhere--just freedom for everyone in general.” You tackle first, that's the more important one and the one that won't get you into any trouble. “And um--yeah I suppose my sexual appetite wouldn't please the Church.” You say with a small laugh breaking your gaze from Hannibal and down at your coffee cup. “Not exactly a born again virgin.” Smooth. Great job. Wow. Fuck. Maybe you could drown yourself in this coffee? You take a sip and to spite being too shy to ask for sugar or milk this coffee is great, actually smooth. Unlike you. “This is great, what is this?” You try. Why do you try? He always notices, you're luckier than you know that it endlessly amuses him rather than annoys him. “It's Peaberry Coffee from Tanzania, it's a rounder sweeter bean, almost tea like.” He explains, allowing for a moment for you to believe you've somehow fooled him into letting his prior question go thoroughly unanswered. “It can take a more refined palette to taste all the notes.” He remarks. “I don't know how refined mine is, I just know it's nice.”

You admit with a small laugh. “Usually our tongues know more than we think, close your eyes and allow the flavours to dance over your tongue.” He instructed. Hannibal could tell you to jump off a cliff and if he said it nice enough you probably would. You take a small breath and take another sip and try your damnest to impress Hannibal if only even a little but as you swallow you know your guesses are little more than shots in the dark. “It's sweet...kind of like a berry...?” You weakly pitch. You're not wrong but Hannibal can tell your guess isn't confident. “Do you know you have a habit of coming in on yourself when you're unsure of what you're saying?” He asks letting you know he's been on to you for much longer than you would have hoped. He comes around from his large kitchen island to stand in front of you and you fight the urge to step back and away which only adds to how hard your heart beats in your chest. “Coming in on ones self allows negative neurons to fire, by simply lifting your head you'll allude more confidence and though red looks lovely on you so does that.” That compliment alone made your head spin so his next action of bringing his warm hand up to gently lift your head? Your entire body felt weak. It was laughable that the simple touch of his thumb resting on your chin and his forefinger below it could have such an effect on you, looking up at him him with unsure eyes as to where this went next was laughable to him. You were putty in his hands, vulnerable in every meaning of the word. "Try again, close your eyes and when you take a sip allow it to work around your mouth, to explore every inch of your tongue.” Was this porn? This could be porn, this might as well be porn as far as your body was concerned apparently. It took you a moment to actually get your limbs to move and grab your coffee again and it felt good to close your eyes, you liked Hannibal but being so close and having him stare back at you was overwhelming. And he knew it, there was something very satisfying about your kind of vulnerability, it was raw and open for him to touch and mold with his hands. You brought the cup to your lips and took another sip and once again tried to find a defined note in this coffee and maybe it was having your head tilted up, maybe it was having him so close but an answer did come from your mouth. “Cedar?” Opening your eyes you knew you'd gotten it right by the contented look you were rewarded with. "I had a hunch your tongue knew more than you were letting on.” He teased. He let his thumb trail back and forth on your chin before moving it away and your head felt like it was floating. “What does your tongue taste? I'm sure it's much more experienced than mine.” You're sure if you didn't feel so floaty such a blatantly flirty question wouldn't have come out of you but it seemed to fly just fine as a small amused breath made it's way out of him. “Your assumption would be correct.” He let you know. “The notes in this coffee I've become very acquainted with over the years so it wouldn't be much of an exercise in taste for me to tell you them all. Perhaps another breakfast we could expand upon both our tongues.” Your entire body clenched and you had to practically drown out your whine of want by taking a sip of your coffee. “For now we'll be expanding on yours, come, wash up I'll show you how to make uova al purgatorio, a taste from my past.” He said walking back around the kitchen island. You follow him around the island and with one last sip put your empty coffee cup into the sink. --- ~Admin Coral 🍒 Buy Me A Coffee?

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honeypwark · 4 years

Text

[ Studio Intruder ]

↳ Crown era

↳ Kiryoung gets caught by a label mate. He offers his help. He becomes very fond of her.

m.list

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Some nights, when Yoongi is working late, coffee is the only thing that sustains him. It’s not like he even needs to be here this late; they just released an album and are in the midst of promotions. He actually probably shouldn’t be here because they have a music show in two days. But sometimes it’s impossible to go home when you’re working on something, tunnel visioned on completing your idea before it escapes you.

That’s why Yoongi is in one of the company building break rooms at two in the morning getting his second cup of coffee that night. He puts the lid back on then leaves to head back to his studio. As he turns to do so, he sees a small figure farther down the hallway, hood up, head down, and walking quickly.

His immediate thought is that she might be a fan who’s broken into the building. Somewhat against his better judgement, he begins to follow her. She doesn’t go much farther and Yoongi stays hidden behind the corner when he notices she’s stopped in front of a studio door.

When he checks again, he sees she’s unlocking the door and stepping inside. He walks over to the studio she entered. “Adorable Trap” is displayed on the door of Adora’s studio, but the girl who entered is too short to be the studio’s owner.

Yoongi knocks on the door.

He gets no response. He enters slowly, looking around for the girl he’d followed here.

“Hello?”

He steps fully into the studio but finds no trace of the girl. He knows this is the studio she entered because the door was unlocked, but where could she have gone? It’s not an enormous room by any means, so unless the small girl had shoved herself under the desk-

Yoongi looks at the desk.

He walks over to it slowly and takes hold of the desk chair. Once he’s pulled it out of the way, he can see the girl is curled up under the desk with her backpack hugged to her chest, aggressively avoiding looking at him.

“Stand up.”

She does, crawling out from under the desk to stand in front of him with her head hanging.

“What are you doing in here?”

Her voice is so quiet her can hardly hear her, “They won’t let me schedule studio time so Soohyun unnie lets me use her studio.”

Yoongi doesn’t understand anything about what she just said, “What?”

The girls reaches up and tugs her hood off.

“The company won’t let me use a studio so Adora lets me use her studio without them knowing.”

Yoongi blinks, somehow more confused now that he realizes the person in front of him isn’t some random girl or crazy fan, but his fairly recently debuted junior, Kiryoung of TXT.

“The company won’t let you use a studio?” he summarizes.

Kiryoung ducks her head and speaks like she’s ashamed of the answer, “They said that it wouldn’t fit with the image they want me to have.”

Yoongi feels disproportionately angered by that.

Kiryoung suddenly looks up at him with fear in her eyes, “You’re not going to tell anyone, right? I’ve already been scolded when I tried to help with recording the English version of ‘Cat & Dog.’”

“That’s so stupid,” Yoongi says.

“Please don’t tell anyone!” Kiryoung begs as tears gather in her eyes, “I don’t want to get in trouble!”

As Yoongi has been getting angry at the company for not letting one of their artists’ pursue their interest in music production, Kiryoung has been getting more distressed at being found out. Yoongi realizes that without a promise that he won’t tell anyone about her and Adora’s arrangement, Kiryoung is ready to start crying.

“Hey, no, I’m not going to tell anyone, it’s alright,” Yoongi assures her. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she says pitifully, using her hoodie sleeves to dry her eyes.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi tells her, “You’re fine.”

He reaches out to hold her arm and attempt to comfort her but stops. They’re not close by any means; the only interaction they’ve had is when their groups have been together. He puts his hand back at his side.

For only being a girl he’s said probably a total of five words to prior to tonight, Yoongi’s emotions seem to be all over the place. First he was angry at the company for telling her she can’t make music and then he was sincerely worried about making sure she didn’t cry.

Kiryoung sniffs, “I should probably go home.”

“Aren’t you going to work on something?” Yoongi asks.

“I... feel awkward now.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m literally always awkward,” Kiryoung admits.

Yoongi chuckles.

Kiryoung winces as she realizes what she said, “That makes me sound so lame. I’m sorry. I should go.”

“Hey, wait.”

Yoongi steps with her towards the door.

“If the company won’t let you pursue producing, then I can help you.”

“...what?”

“I can help you with producing. You can play me some tracks and I can give you some pointers.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Only if you want to, though.”

“Yes!” she says too quick and too loud.

She shrinks back in embarrassment. Yoongi chuckles again, growing more fond for Kiryoung and her awkwardly shy personality the longer he’s in her company.

“Okay. We can work in my studio.”

“Okay,” Kiryoung agrees happily.

Kiryoung follows Yoongi out of Adorable Trap, locking the door behind her then walking with him to his own studio. He pushes the door open and steps inside. Kiryoung hesitates over the threshold.

“You can come in,” Yoongi says as he notices her hesitation.

“I, um... Are you going to get in trouble? For helping me? I don’t want you to face repercussions from the company...”

Yoongi laughs at her concerns, “What are they gonna do? Fire me? I’m not Jin hyung when it comes to disobeying the company, but I think I’ll be okay if they find out. Now come sit down.”

Kiryoung walks into the studio and shuts the door behind her, taking her backpack off her back as she sits on the stool Yoongi pulled out for her.

“And if they give you any more ‘you shouldn’t produce because it doesn’t fit our image for you’ crap, come to me and I’ll figure it out,” Yoongi says. “Open your laptop.”

She does as he asks, logging in then handing the device to him when he hold his hand out for it. He begins hooking it up to his desktop computer. He opens up his preferred production and editing program, saving what he was working on then exiting out to make a new document.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Kiryoung asks softly as he does this, her curiosity winning out against her shyness.

Yoongi glances at her briefly then continues opening files on Kiryoung’s laptop to bring to his computer.

“I guess I kind of see myself in you.”

Hearing those words from the member of BTS Kiryoung admires the most? Euphoric.

“You do?”

“Yeah. They wanted me to be the grumpy grandpa member for so long but that’s not really who I am. I’m not bright and sunshine-y either, but I’m not a scary person, despite people always perceiving me that way.”

“I don’t think you’re scary.”

“You almost started crying when I found you earlier.”

“That’s because I thought you were going to tell the company you found me!”

“I’m a lot of things, but a snitch isn’t one of them. Your secret’s safe with me.”

Kiryoung looks at Yoongi gratefully, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He points to his screen, “Which track do you want to work on?”

“Um, that one.”

“‘Crystalline Teardrops Flow Like a River of Grief’?” He glances beside him at Kiryoung, “You’re a little poet, aren’t you?”

“I convey words better in lyrics than I do in speaking.”

Yoongi smiles fondly at Kiryoung when she says that, the girl bashfully refusing to look at him after she does. He double clicks on that file and opens it in the producing software he has open.

“Anyway, about the company’s image thing, don’t let them control who you are. It’s hard enough being an idol already, don’t let them make you play a character as well. Don’t let anyone control who you are.”

Kiryoung looks at Yoongi with so much respect that he is the one to look away.

He plays it off and swiftly changes subjects, “Let’s listen to what you have, shall we?”

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