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sankyeom · 4 years

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tattle-tale | l.sy

pairings: lee sangyeon x reader genre: teacher au, tooth-rotting fluff summary: in which teacher!sangyeon has a crush on teacher!you and anonymously leaves little gifts for you on your desk, only to one day be caught by your entire class word count: 5.9k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

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You loved your job, you really did.

Teaching little kids all day long was an absolute joy for you. But if you said recess wasn’t your favourite time of the day, you’d definitely be lying. “Finally,” you groaned as you took a seat on a sofa in the teacher’s lounge, a large cup of coffee in your hand as you closed your eyes.

Sangyeon, Jacob and Hyunjae – three teachers at your school that you considered close friends – shared knowing smiles. “Rough morning?” Jacob asked.

“I love my students,” you said, eyes still closed. “But they can be little devils sometimes.”

Hyunjae burst into laughter as Jacob and Sangyeon grinned. “They can’t be that bad?”

You opened your eyes to observe your colleagues. “It’s Emma’s birthday today. She brought cake for the entire class, and they ate the entire thing within the first ten minutes of first period,” you recalled in a monotone voice.

Jacob winced. “Sugar rush?” he guessed.

“You have no idea,” you complained, having flashbacks to your students running around the classroom and causing absolute chaos. “I would literally kill for some coffee. Or at least maim.”

Hyunjae pointed at your mug. “What do you call that?” he teased.

“Terrible teacher lounge coffee that hasn’t been warm for, like, an hour,” you observed as you took a sip of your coffee. Then, you winced and pushed the mug away from you. “I may be desperate for a good caffeine fix, but I’m not that desperate,” you mumbled as you got up to toss the contents of your mug down the sink.

Sangyeon’s eyes trailed after your retreating figure, a mindless smile on his face as he observed the way you glared at your, now empty, mug in disgust as if it had betrayed you. His gaze drew towards Jacob when his colleague cleared his throat, a knowing look in his and Hyunjae’s eyes as Sangyeon gave them an innocent smile. “Are you ever going to ask her out?” Jacob asked with a lowered voice.

Although he knew he had been caught, Sangyeon still made his attempt at playing innocent. “Ask who out?”

Hyunjae rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend. You’re a really bad liar and you’re just way too obviously in love with Teacher Y/n,” he said, imitating your students when they call out to you.

Despite his best efforts, Sangyeon couldn’t hide the blush that appeared on his cheeks. As he opened his mouth to protest, you took your seat on the sofa opposite the trio, muttering to yourself about terrible coffee. Noticing the shift in atmosphere, you raised an eyebrow at your colleagues. “Did something happen while I was gone?” you wondered.

“No,” the three men chorused, which only made you more suspicious of them. With a shrug, you dismissed their odd behaviour, deciding that it was best not to pursue your curiosity. “So Y/n, did you ever find out who your secret admirer is?” Hyunjae wondered.

A small pout appeared on your lips. “No,” you sighed, clasping your hands together to rest on your knees.

For a few months now, you had been receiving little gifts on your desk when you stepped out of your classroom for your breaks or free periods. At first, they were just little things that lifted your mood in the middle of the day; sticky notes with funny faces and encouraging quotes, or small gummy and snack packets to give you energy at the end of your long day.

Then, the gifts started becoming a little more personal.

A gift certificate to your favourite coffee chain, packs of stickers or staples that you just so happened to be running out of, muffins from your favourite bakery, and even a beautiful leather-bound journal that you had mentioned you wanted to a few friends and coworkers.

You didn’t know who the gifts were from, but you desperately wanted to meet them.

Not only did they brighten your day every single time you got a new gift, but they seemed to be presents that were specifically purchased for you.

“Has anybody else been getting gifts?” you inquired.

“Not as far as I know,” Jacob denied, Hyunjae and Sangyeon humming in agreement. “Besides, aren’t the gifts all perfect for you?”

You nodded. “Most of them are things that I vaguely mentioned, or silently pined after. Sometimes they’re just little pick-me-ups like snacks, but they still seem to know my taste perfectly.”

Jacob smiled. “That’s kind of romantic,” he mused, causing Sangyeon to choke on the water he had been sipping. He coughed, leaning forward to place his mug down, and covered his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. You, Hyunjae and Jacob gave him looks of concern, which he immediately waved off.

“I’m good,” Sangyeon assured the three of you. “You-“ he coughed. “You think it’s romantic?”

“Of course!” Jacob said cheerily. “Gifts that fit her taste without ever revealing who sent them… A secret admirer. Super romantic,” he assured his friend, sending him a subtle wink when you weren’t looking.

“I just wish I could repay them somehow,” you sighed. “I feel like they make my days easier and I don’t even have a way to thank them.”

“I’m sure they’ll reveal themselves with time,” Hyunjae told you, probably in an attempt to cheer you up. “Maybe they’re just a little shy.”

“Maybe,” you echoed half-heartedly. The bell rung, indicating that recess was over and class would start again in five minutes.

“Coming?” Sangyeon asked, standing up to walk you to your classroom. Your classrooms were in the same corridor, even though Sangyeon taught fourth grade and you taught second.

You shook your head. “My kids have Gym right now, so I have a free,” you said. “I have some grading to do, so I’m just going to hang out here.”

“Not going to hunt for a better cup of coffee?” Sangyeon teased, copying the horrified face you made when you took a sip of the cold teacher’s lounge coffee.

With a laugh, you merely shook your head. “I’m too lazy to leave campus. Plus, I should probably cut down on my caffeine consumption anyway.”

“Right,” Hyunjae nodded. “I’ll remind you of that in three hours when it’s lunchtime and you’re completely worn-out from your seven-year-old students,” he said, saluting you in lieu of a goodbye. You waved to him, Jacob and Sangyeon as they left the lounge, taking out your bag to get to grading your students’ tests.

Since they were only second graders, the grading wasn’t exactly difficult, just time-consuming. By the time the bell rang to indicate Gym class had ended, you had just finished all of their maths tests. After stretching, you made your way over to your classroom so that you could be there before your students changed after Gym class.

Entering your classroom, you could already feel a bit of fatigue kicking in, and you cursed yourself for not getting a cup of coffee after all. Before you could wallow in your regret any further, you noticed the paper take-away cup on your desk. The bright blue sticky note on the cup instantly brought a smile to your face.

Don’t let the little devils wear you down too much. x

You picked the cup up, delighted that the coffee was still warm to the touch and relishing in the taste as you took a sip. “Secret admirer, you must be from heaven,” you muttered, grateful that your secret admirer had gone out of their way to make sure you were properly caffeinated.

“Teacher Y/n!” someone shouted, barreling into your classroom. Several students trailed behind, giving you similar greetings coupled with large beams.

“How was Gym?” you asked, putting your coffee down and listening to your students’ excited stories about who won the dodgeball game that day. “Well while you guys were having fun, I was working very hard to grade your math tests! Do you want to see how you did?”

Their cheers were enough for you to burst into laughter as you took their papers out of your test. “Teacher Y/n,” one of your students, Minho, raised his hand with big eyes.

The sight was absolutely adorable. “Yes, Minho?” you smiled.

“What did your secret Santa give you today?” he asked.

“Secret Santa is for Christmas time,” you corrected. “The person leaving me presents is just a nice friend,” you explained.

“Okay,” Minho nodded, eagerly absorbing your words. “What did your nice friend give you?”

“Something warm to drink,” you explained, pointing in the direction of your take-away cup before handing the seven-year-old his test back. “The teacher’s lounge has coffee but the coffee from my friend is from my favourite store.”

“Do we know your friend?” Sana, a little girl who always wore pigtails and a huge smile, asked.

“I think so,” you mused. “They work here at school.”

“Who is it?” she wondered. “Is it your boyfriend?”

You laughed. “It’s not my boyfriend,” you assured Sana. “I actually don’t know who it is yet. It’s a mystery.”

“Like Sherlock Holmes,” Minho piped up.

“Yes, like Sherlock Holmes,” you agreed.

“We can try and solve the mystery together, then!” the boy decided. “We just need to look at the clues.”

“Alright,” you allowed, having finished handing out the tests. “We can do that after we go over this test. Does anybody have any questions on the test that they didn’t understand?”

“That’s adorable,” Hyunjae laughed as you told him, Sangyeon, and Jacob about your students’ interest in your secret admirer. The four of you were sat outside at one of the picnic tables to enjoy the last few days of sunshine that autumn had to offer you. “Did they come up with anything?”

“They actually did,” you admitted. Sangyeon’s back straightened abruptly, curious about what your students figured out. “They decided that it’s definitely a teacher.”

“Really?” Sangyeon exclaimed, earning a weird look from Jacob and Hyunjae. “What makes them think that?”

“Well, I always get a little post-it note with all of my gifts,” you explained with a laugh. “And who uses post-it notes?”

“Teachers,” your three colleagues chorused.

“That’s pretty decent detective work,” Jacob complimented.

“My class certainly liked to think so,” you allowed, amused. “Anyway, my theory is that the admirer really is a teacher,” you added. “I doubt anyone other than other teachers have heard me talk about my favourite cafe, or which of my stationary is running low. I only ever talk about those kind of things in the teacher’s lounge or when I’m on lunch duty.”

“Sherlock Holmes indeed,” Hyunjae grinned, eyes crinkling at the outer corners. “Any theories on who it is?”

You sighed, shoulder drooping. “None at all,” you confessed. “Makes me feel kind of pathetic.”

“Hey, you’re not pathetic,” Jacob denied, putting his hand on your shoulder. “A little slow? Maybe. But certainly not pathetic,” you laughed, pleased at Jacob’s attempt to make you feel better.

“Teacher Y/n!” you heard Sana’s familiar voice as she ran up to you from the playground, her best friend Emma trailing after her.

“Hi girls,” you greeted. “Are you enjoying your lunch?” the two girls nodded.

“Emma, it’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” Sangyeon recalled from your rant at recess. The girl’s eyes lit up at his question, prompting her to nod her head excitedly.

“I’m turning eight,” she told him proudly.

Sangyeon beamed at her excitement, a fond look in his eyes. “Well I hope you have a wonderful birthday, Emma. You’ll have to tell me what presents you get when you come to school tomorrow,” he asked, which she immediately agreed to.

“I will, Teacher Sangyeon!” she promised.

Suddenly impatient, Sana crossed her arms. “Teacher Y/n, is Teacher Jacob your nice friend?” she wondered, pointing to where Jacob sat across from you.

“He’s a nice teacher friend, but he’s not the one who’s leaving me gifts,” you explained to the two girls. “Why do you ask?”

“We saw him touch your shoulder,” Sana explained. “We thought that meant he was your nice friend.”

“Sadly, you have the wrong guy,” Jacob said with a shrug. “But I’m going to try to help Teacher Y/n to find out who her nice teacher friend is. You guys already did a great job at helping her,” he added. Sana and Emma looked proud at the thought before they said their goodbyes, rushing off to grab the vacant swings before anybody else did.

“They’re so cute,” Hyunjae almost whined. “Why did I decide to teach sixth grade? Those kids aren’t cute anymore, they’re just savage.”

You grinned at the idea of Hyunjae being lightheartedly bullied by his twelve-year-old students. “You adore those kids, don’t lie to me,” you retorted. “And they’re still plenty cute.”

“They’re not that cute in sixth grade,” he denied, pointing in the direction Emma and Sana went. “And they don’t look at me with big, adorable eyes, or cling on to every word I say.”

“That’s just Y/n,” Sangyeon told them, smiling to himself as he dug into lunch. “My students are just two years older, and they don’t do any of those things to me.”

“You’re being modest,” you argued. “Emma looked at you like you told her she was the most special girl in the world when you remembered her birthday.”

“Maybe because it’s her birthday,” Sangyeon allowed, looking up from his food to smile at you. “But they look at you like that every single day. And it’s not just your students, either.”

His compliment made you blush.

The gifts started coming on a daily basis after the day you got a cup of coffee.

Almost every time you had a free period, a fresh cup of coffee would wait for you when you returned to your classroom, and sometimes baked treats from your favourite bakery would accompany it.

You tried staying in your classroom to see who your gift fairy was, but on days you stayed your admirer never came. It was almost as if they knew every move you were making; like they had heard it before or could somehow read your mind.

“Is one of you giving out my plans?” you questioned your colleagues one day.

Hyunjae simply raised an eyebrow at you. “Explain.”

So you did: “I feel like my secret admirer is always a step ahead of me,” you mumbled. “If I ever wait for them, they don’t show up, and if I send students ahead to wait in the classroom, they still don’t show up. I don’t know how they do it.”

“Maybe it’s one of us,” Jacob said, causing Sangyeon to send a small kick to his ankle as a warning. Hyunjae snorted, covering it up by pretending to cough. “Have you ever considered that?”

“I hadn’t, actually,” you realised absent-mindedly. “But if it was one of you guys then you’d just tell me.”

“Sure,” Hyunjae nodded. “Eventually.”

“Right,” you said, as if this was enough evidence to suggest it couldn’t be Hyunjae, Jacob, or Sangyeon. “So I’m back to square one.”

The bell rang, indicating the end of recess, and you stood up to go back to your classroom. “I love art class,” you sighed as you waved your goodbyes to Hyunjae and Jacob, and made your way to your classroom with Sangyeon. “It’s the only time they get to be rowdy and excited and I don’t have to make them calm down.”

Sangyeon laughed. “Sounds nice,” he agreed.

“What do you have next?” you asked.

“I’m free, actually,” Sangyeon said. “I always have a free after recess.”

“How come you’re always rushing off, then?” you wondered, since he had never sat with you in the teacher’s lounge during recess.

“I use it as my lesson-planning time, which I prefer to do in my classroom because I’m always forgetting little things that I need,” he admitted.

“Well you should hang out with me in the lounge some time,” you offered. “It has terrible coffee but I hear I’m pretty good company,” you joke, stopping at your classroom.

“I might take you up on that,” Sangyeon grinned, winking at you before he made his way to his classroom a few doors down.

You cursed yourself for feeling shy at his wink. Sure, Sangyeon was incredibly handsome. But you had enough to worry about with your secret admirer; you didn’t need a schoolgirl crush on one of your closest colleagues to top it all off.

You sighed. “Control yourself, Y/n,” you muttered to yourself, entering your classroom and starting to hand out the worksheets for the period.

You regretted ever saying that you loved art class.

After a sugar-filled recess, your class was more hyper than you had ever seen them and there was nothing that could be done to stop them. You had attempted multiple times to get them to listen to music or talk quietly, even going as far as to threaten them with staying on after lunch time to make up for the time lost during art class. You were about to lose your patience out of pure irritation and frustration when a knock sounded on the door of your classroom.

Sangyeon’s head popped in, a look of mild concern on his face. “Y/n, is everything okay?” he asked.

“Not really,” you admitted, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to curb your oncoming headache. “They won’t calm down. I’ve tried literally everything I can think of.”

“Mind if I give it a try?” he asked, earning an enthusiastic nod and a grateful smile from you. Sangyeon let himself in and stood at the front of the room. “Hi everyone!” he greeted loudly, causing your students to start to quiet down at the sight of a new face. “Thanks for waiting to start art class until I came,” he smiled, as if he was supposed to be there all along. “I’m Teacher Sangyeon from the fourth grade class down the hall.”

“He teaches big kids,” you heard Emma whisper to her desk mate. Cute.

“Teacher Y/n was just telling me how advanced and mature her second graders are. She even thought that I could come and teach them a little bit of fourth grade art since you’re all so far ahead,” Sangyeon complimented.

Gasps rang around the room, and you couldn’t be more grateful to him in that moment. “But you guys were pretty noisy when I came in. I’m not sure if you guys are really mature enough,” he trailed off, a look of concern on his face.

“We are!” Sana exclaimed, shushing her classmates with a stern expression. “We promise we are!”

“Well...” Sangyeon pretended to think for a moment. “If you guys can promise to be calm and good listeners, maybe I can still teach you like I teach fourth grade art. But only if you’re well behaved.”

In that moment, you were almost as entranced by Sangyeon as your students were.

Sangyeon took their silence as a promise and made his way over to your whiteboard, writing down his name and a few bullet points down. Then, he began to talk about being in the fourth grade and how different things would be from the second grade. He spoke with an air of confidence and kindness that made you realise why he became a teacher, and why all of his students loved him so much.

He was patient and informative without being condescending, and he took any questions and comments happily at any given moment. Sangyeon was definitely in his element, and it made him glow with relaxed joy.

You had always thought Sangyeon was attractive, but this was on a different level. He commanded the attention of all of your students and the way he just swooped in, giving up his entire free period to help you, made your heart swell with something akin to admiration. Sangyeon had your students giggling at his cheesy comments, and you found yourself smiling along with them, just as enchanted by him as your students were.

When he was done teaching, your students looked at him in awe and their eyes were dripping with respect and admiration. He dismissed them to lunch with your approval, and you practically leapt onto him when all your students left.

“Woah, what did I do to deserve that?” he wondered, wrapping his arms around you to return your hug nonetheless.

“Saved my class, and myself from a migraine,” you replied, sighing in relief. “Thank you, Sangyeon. Really. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I appreciate this,” you acknowledged, squeezing your eyes shut to relish in the hug. Sangyeon tightened his grip on you and sighed back, butterflies fluttering around his stomach.

Maybe he should just tell you that he’s your secret admirer, he considered.

“Of course, Y/n. You know that I’m always here if you need anything,” he said instead, pulling away from your hug to offer you a genuine smile. He wasn’t ready yet.

“I do,” you agreed with a nod. “And I can help you out anytime as well. Thank you. Let me buy you coffee or something as a proper thank you,” you offered, grabbing your bag without letting him reply.

“Not everyone is as obsessed with caffeine as you are,” Sangyeon retorted, gently nudging you with his hip to tease you.

“Hey, until they start selling it in an IV bag, I’m going to have to get my caffeine the old fashion way. C’mon, coffee shop three blocks away. My treat,” you smiled hopefully, holding up your wallet to jokingly entice him.

Sangyeon broke out into a large smile, eyes shaped like crescent moons. “I would love that,” he agreed, starting to erase his notes on the whiteboard as you clapped.

You watched him. “Your handwriting is beautiful,” you complimented, seeing the letters disappear. “I feel like I’ve seen it before,” you thought aloud, wondering why it looked so familiar.

“Really?” Sangyeon said, eyes wide as he sped up his process of erasing his lettering. “Probably in the yearbook or something.”

“Probably,” you dismissed the thought with a smile. “Now let’s go get our coffee on.”

After Sangyeon saved your art class, and your head from a brutal migraine, he started spending more time with you during your mutual free periods. Usually, you sat in silence in the teacher’s lounge as you did any grading or class prep that needed to be done, but with Sangyeon’s presence, your free periods were much more colourful and laidback.

Sangyeon had a lighthearted way about him; everything he said was assuring kind, and didn’t fail to make your heart flutter. Usually, you only ever spent time with Sangyeon when Jacob and Hyunjae were around, but being alone with Sangyeon was a different situation entirely. You had always known he was handsome and considerate, but he exuded a different kind of energy when he wasn’t surrounded by your friends.

As he sat next to you at one of the tables in the teacher’s lounge before the school day started, you couldn’t help but admire his profile; he was practically flawless. He had a long, slender nose and high cheekbones that made Sangyeon look more angular than soft. His deep brown eyes and pillow-soft lips-

“Y/n?” you snapped out of your trail of thoughts, realising that you had been blatantly staring at your coworker. Sangyeon gave you a concerned look. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” you promised, clearing your throat and adjusting your shirt to give your hands something to do. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

The bell chimed, indicating that the school day would begin soon. You and Sangyeon stood up from your chairs and started collecting your papers. “I was just saying that I can’t stay with you during my free, I have some errands to run,” he explained, giving you a wave before he ran off to grab something from his car before class started.

You rose an eyebrow. “I don’t have a free today,” you mumbled to yourself, making your way to your classroom to start your first period class.

Sangyeon grinned, lifting the flower bouquet in his hand to smell the fragrant flowers once more, relishing in their sweet scent. You had told him about a little flower shop nearby that you noticed the other day, but you couldn’t bring yourself to buy yourself flowers because it felt a little embarrassing. Since you had a free today, Sangyeon figured it would be the perfect time to buy you some flowers and give them to you.

Anonymously, of course.

As Sangyeon snuck past the teacher’s lounge, he saw your bag on one of the chairs and quickened his steps so that you wouldn’t spot him as he made his way to your classroom. Checking the hallway, Sangyeon entered your classroom as quietly as he could as to not alert any other classes of his presence.

As carefully as he could, Sangyeon closed the door behind him and let out a relieved sigh when it silently shut. Smiling, he turned around to put the flowers on your desk.

Only to be met with the little faces of your entire class.

Sangyeon’s mouth fell open in shock, his eyes widening simultaneously as he realised the situation.

“Teacher Sangyeon,” Emma exclaimed, waving excitedly at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, hi class,” Sangyeon greeted awkwardly, making his way towards your desk. “I’m just leaving Teacher Y/n a little surprise, that’s all.”

Minho gasped. “You’re her nice friend that’s leaving her presents!” he realised, pointing his little finger at Sangyeon.

Knowing he was caught, Sangyeon nodded, hurriedly pulling a blue post-it note from his shirt pocket and writing you a little message to go with your flowers. “Yes, I am. But I would really like it if you guys could keep it a secret between us?” he pleaded. “Since I know you guys are so mature and clever.”

He knew that appealing to seven-year-olds’ will to be grown up was a low blow, but he didn’t have much time before you would return to your class.

“Of course,” Sana nodded her head. “We’ll keep your secret. Teacher Y/n is looking for her bag, she’ll be back any minute now!”

Sangyeon thanked her for her warning, giving your students a little wave before he darted out of the classroom and rushed to his own.

That was close. And he was probably screwed.

“Okay class, thank you so much for being patient,” you exclaimed, entering your classroom with your bag. “I’m sorry I left you guys to grab my bag but I’m so proud of you all being so mature and understanding,” you buttered up your students, feeling guilty for running around school like a mad person trying to find your bag.

“Teacher Y/n!” Minho raised his hand as far in the air as he could. “We know who your nice friend is!”

You froze in place from where you were writing on the whiteboard, knowing exactly who he was talking about. “You do?” you echoed.

“Hey,” Sana cried out. “We’re not supposed to tell!”

That’s interesting. You knew that if whoever your secret admirer was had convinced your class to keep their identity a secret, it meant that your class trusted and respected them.

“I don’t care,” Minho retorted, crossing his arms. “We’re supposed to be Sherlock Holmes and help Teacher Y/n, remember?”

You smiled; those kids were truly too cute.

“Oh,” Sana seemed to be struggling with making up her mind. “Well, I suppose you’re right. We did promise Teacher Y/n first.”

“Was my nice friend here?” you asked, spotting the bouquet of flowers on your desk, accompanied by the usual blue post-it note you received with all your gifts.

“He was,” Minho nodded. “Teacher Sangyeon came while we were waiting for you and he brought your flowers.”

Something fluttered in your stomach, excitement at the revelation of your secret admirer making your heart pound just slightly faster. “He did?” you said, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

“And he wrote you a note with a blue post-it!” Emma added. “We were right! Your nice friend is a teacher.”

You smiled, picturing Sangyeon trying to convince your students to keep his secret. He must have snuck in because he thought I had a free period, you realised. “Well, you guys are very good detectives,” you complimented. “Just like Sherlock Holmes.”

When you dismissed your students for lunch, you couldn’t help but sit at your desk as they all filed out to admire the flowers. It was a beautiful mixture of white roses, pink peonies, and beautiful green and purple wildflowers. The post-it note must have been more rushed than usual, because it had a simple message that said he hoped you liked the flowers instead of their usual buttery, warm message of encouragement.

No wonder Sangyeon’s handwriting looked so familiar, you thought as you traced the letters on the post-it note with your pointer finger. The loops of his lettering perfectly replicated those that were written on the whiteboard when he helped you with your art class a few weeks ago.

After assigning your students their work for the last class, you couldn’t help your mind from wandering to Sangyeon, and how you should confront him about being your secret admirer. Making up your mind, you got up from your chair and plucked the flowers and post-it note from your desk before exiting your classroom and walking down the hall.

Knocking on the door of Sangyeon’s classroom, you waited patiently for him to greet you at the door. “Y/n,” his eyes lit up when he recognised that it was you. “Come in, you don’t need to knock,” Sangyeon ushered you in, opening to door for you.

“Thanks,” you smiled, stepping inside. “So, I got another gift from my admirer,” you told him, holding up the flowers. “If I can even call them an admirer.”

“Why shouldn’t they admire you,” Sangyeon said with a small shrug, moving to wipe his whiteboard.

“Say,” you began, holding up the post-it note. “This looks a lot like your handwriting.”

Sangyeon dropped the whiteboard eraser with a loud clatter, cursing quietly before apologising for the noise and going to pick it up. “Oh, um, really?” he wondered, panic rising in his chest.

“Really,” you confirmed, making your way next to him and holding up the post-it for you both to compare to the white board. “See? Your lettering is super similar,” you said, as if you didn’t already know that Sangyeon was your secret admirer.

“Huh,” Sangyeon hummed. “Weird.”

“Isn’t it?” you agreed, smiling. “These flowers are beautiful though, aren’t they?”

Feeling nervous, Sangyeon only gave you a weak smile. “As long as you think so…”

“They’re from that little flower shop I was telling you about the other day,” you told him, recognising the name of the shop on the ribbon that held the bouquet together. “Isn’t that ironic? That they got the flowers from there.”

“Well it’s only a few blocks away so I’m sure other people know about it,” Sangyeon retorted, pretending to go through the papers on his desk to act as if his heart wasn’t beating at the sound of a tuba.

“I also got coffee from my favourite cafe, pastries from my favourite bakery, and any piece of stationary that I complained to you about being low on,” you listed off the different gifts you had received.

Sangyeon opened his mouth to retort, but when he lifted his head to meet your eyes, he knew immediately that he had been caught. “You know, don’t you?” Sangyeon mumbled, red flushing the tips of his cheeks and ears.

“Minho ratted you out,” you confessed, not wanting to take credit for figuring it out.

Sangyeon laughed. “Tattle-tale,” he muttered, eyes gleaming with mischief. “So you were just having fun, teasing me as if you were figuring it all out right in front of me?”

“Hey,” you exclaimed. “I figured the handwriting thing out on my own.”

“Really?”

“No. I just connected the dots after Minho told on you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders. Sangyeon chuckled, picturing your class telling on him as you lean back against his desk. “I’m glad it’s you,” you revealed, making Sangyeon smile shyly at you.

“How come?” he wondered.

“Well, you’re pretty cute,” you teased, earning an eye-roll from Sangyeon. “And you’re just… I don’t know. You’re really special. The way you interact with your students and how you never fail to give up your free time to help me, or keep me company…” you trailed off, noticing how a more serious expression fell across Sangyeon’s face. “Why didn’t you tell me that it’s you?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted it to be me,” Sangyeon said, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. “You’re one of the most loved teachers at this school, by the students and the faculty. You’re funny, and kind, and beautiful, and I thought you were out of reach.”

“I’m not out of reach,” you shook your head, moving closer to the brunet man. “Not at all.”

“And you’re really happy that it’s me?” he wondered.

“Hm,” you pretended to think. “Let me get back to you on that one,” you teased. “Yes Sangyeon, I’m really happy that it’s you.” Sangyeon beamed, pleased with your response. “That’s your cue.”

“My cue?” he asked.

“Yes, your cue,” you emphasised, trailing your hands up his chest to play with his tie. An understanding look filled his eyes and Sangyeon leant down to kiss you, closing his eyes as you felt each other’s breath against your faces.

The door to Sangyeon’s classroom opened noisily.

“Yo, we were just-“ Hyunjae’s shriek cut off Jacob’s words as the pair realised the position that you and Sangyeon were in.

“Guys, you can’t do that during school hours!” Hyunjae exclaimed, looking scandalised. “Jacob, I’ll cover your eyes and you cover mine,” he said dramatically, causing the two of them to flail about in an attempt to cover each other’s eyes with their hands.

You rolled your eyes, releasing Sangyeon’s tie and leaning back with a sigh. Sangyeon gave you a sheepish smile but cast your friends an exasperated look. “You guys are lame,” you accused.

Jacob laughed, releasing Hyunjae. “So you finally figured it out?”

“I wish. Some little tattle-tales told me all about it after catching him,” you motion to Sangyeon.

Hyunjae cackled. “Genius. C’mon, let’s get lunch. I’m starving,” he moved on quickly, uninterested in your new relationship with Sangyeon. “No kissing on school grounds, either. Let’s go,” he cheered, marching out with Jacob in tow.

You laughed, always amused by your coworkers and friends. “Let’s get lunch,” you agreed with Hyunjae, sending Sangyeon a smile.

As you moved away, Sangyeon caught your arm and gently pulled you back. “School hours are over in two periods,” he reminded you with a cheeky smile.

“Dinner?” you offered, earning a nod.

“I’d be crazy not to go,” Sangyeon exaggerated. “You’re paying, though. I’ve bought you enough food and drinks to last at least a few dinner dates,” he winked.

Laughing, you nodded, pulling him out of his classroom by his hand. “It’s a deal.”

note: the first fic in my 2k followers celebration event is up!! i’m so excited to see what you guys think about it, please let me know and thank you again for 2,000 followers 💛🌻

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #sangyeon #sangyeon imagines #sangyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #deobiwritersnet #tbznetwork #lee sangyeon #the boyz fic #the boyz fluff #the boyz au #the boyz drabbles #fic: tattle-tale #2k celebration

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forlove2020 · 3 years

Text

Suptober Day 4 - Secrets

Dean is bed-warm and bleary-eyed, but it's not too much of a problem because cooking seems to be one of those things that comes to him naturally, like breathing or reloading his gun. He can do all of these with his eyes closed, which, in this case is pretty handy as his eyes are mostly closed this morning.

He's still barely awake as he beats the buttermilk into the eggs, adding flour, baking powder, sugar, oil, salt. The first of two frying pans gets hot fast, and Dean places the bacon down, enjoying the crackling sound of meat becoming crispy.

His life depends on remembering to turn on the coffee pot, and he is sure to double check and see if it has begun brewing before he moves on to ladling the batter into the pan.

This is the time of day Dean likes best: the slow, quiet mornings in the dim sunlight of his own kitchen where he can finally just breathe. The years of misery and grief had worn him down, but as the saying goes, coal makes diamonds, and since there was so much damn coal in his life before, he is now one fine diamond.

Or, anyhow, something along those lines. Dean's too tired for frickin' metaphors right now, okay?

The clatter of dog paws on wooden flooring makes Dean smile. Miracle has awoken and joined him in the kitchen; she is eyeing Dean expectantly, sniffing at the bacon-scented air with hopefulness.

"Hey there, girl," Dean murmurs quietly, so as not to wake the other occupants of the household. She wags as she greets him and he pats her head fondly. Never once, in all of the years preceding had Dean ever considered adopting a dog but now he knows that Miracle, in his unbiased opinion, is definitely a cut above the rest of those flea-bitten mongrels.

Fine, so maybe he is a little biased but Dean still believes he has the best dog in the world.

Miracle lies on the floor at his feet as he finishes cooking breakfast, she sleepily watches him flip pancakes but her cute little ears perk with interest as he places a couple slices of bacon on each of the three glass plates.

Dean darts a quick look down the hallway that leads toward the staircase, then glances at the backdoor to make sure it is still locked. He can't hear anyone stirring upstairs, so he raises his eyebrow at Miracle, who leaps to her feet with all the stealthy grace of an apex predator. She is ready and waiting for what has become their morning ritual.

Dean tosses her a piece of crisp bacon, and Miracle snaps it up mid-air, her body wriggling with glee as she wolfs it down.

"Remember, this is our secret, ma'am," he murmurs, giving her a gentle scritch behind the ears. Her tail thu-thumps on the floor, and Dean grins.

Light footsteps fall on the creaking stairs, and Dean sticks his hands behind his back like a naughty child caught misbehaving.

Jack is wearing one of Sam's old t-shirts and it's so comically big on him that it seems almost more of a nightgown. He's rubbing his eyes as he stumbles into the kitchen, but his smile is as bright as ever as he goes immediately to hug Dean.

There are many good things in this world that Dean doesn't believe he deserves, and Jack's forgiveness and love is pretty much the top of that list. But Dean's really making an effort to treat him better now and god, if the kid doesn't deserve every last good thing in this world. Jack had offered Dean a fresh start when he came back from Heaven; it was a second chance to make things right between them and Dean had taken the offer with no hesitation. He would rather throw himself into the Pit headfirst than hurt Jack again. Dean knows he can't erase the past but he sure as Hell can do whatever it takes to make things up to his kid.

He presses a kiss to the top of Jack's head; he smells like sleepy sweat and that expensive lemony shampoo Sam had sent him for his fourth birthday. "Sleep okay?"

Jack nods, and yawns. "No nightmares last night, so that was nice." He breaks their hug to pet Miracle, who fawns over him.

"Good," Dean says firmly. "Maybe that spell Sammy used actually can help." Jack nods, but doesn't answer, still attempting to wake up. He reaches for the coffee pot.

"Hey," Dean scolds gently, and Jack pauses, confused. "Wait until I pour your Dad a mug first."

A wry smile comes to Jack's face. They've both seen what happens on mornings where Cas doesn't get hot coffee and Dean and Jack have a silent agreement to avoid the circumstances causing those events at all costs.

"Help yourself to some pancakes," Dean pops half a slice of bacon into his mouth and continues talking while chewing, "Me n’ Cas will eat later. I'm gonna take Sunshine his elixir of life first."

Jack chuckles while Dean pours a very full cup of black coffee into an ugly, handmade pea-green mug, and carefully climbs the staircase he made with his own two hands over the past summer.

Their bedroom is upstairs and on the left in this little house that Dean built. He nudges the door he'd partially left open with his foot, maneuvering cautiously around the dresser and the clothes that were tossed onto the floor last night.

Cas is asleep, more or less, when Dean sits down beside him and places the coffee mug on the bedside table. He mumbles something that Dean can't quite understand, either because he is drowsy or because he may be speaking Enochian. It’s hard to tell with his face half-pressed into the pillow.

Dean lets his fingers drift up Cas’ shoulder and neck and then brushes his hair away from his face. He's going to have a bad case of bedhead when he gets up, Dean thinks with amusement.

"Wake up, Sweetheart," Dean tells him. "There's coffee."

Cas' breathes out slowly, his nose scrunches up, and then he's waking, shifting under the covers, squinting at Dean in the early morning light sneaking through the blinds.

"Heya, Cas." Dean is ridiculously in love with him. The confused look Cas gets when he first wakes up makes Dean think about crazy things, like saying 'screw the world' and crawling back into bed and burrowing under the covers with him. These are things that a younger, sadder Dean Winchester had never known and never would have believed he could have, ten, fifteen - hell, even just two years ago.

(Today's Dean Winchester is a much happier man.)

Cas stares deep in Dean's eyes as he half sits up, rumbling out the familiar, "Hello Dean," and moves closer to kiss Dean good-morning very thoroughly.

After a long minute Cas pulls back, breathless, and asks, "Wait, what did you just say about coffee?"

Still gathering his wits, Dean gestures vaguely to the steaming mug, and Cas turns back to him with a faint smile. "Have I mentioned that I love you, Dean?"

"Guh...not, uh, yet today," he manages to stutter out and Cas smirks as he raises the mug to take his first sip.

They go downstairs together, both so they can eat breakfast and so that Cas can get a refill, and in the process, they catch Jack in the act of handing Miracle a piece of bacon and a chunk of pancake.

Everyone freezes in a domestic tableau; the hunter, the angel, the nephilim-god, and the world's best dog.

Cas recovers first, and sighs. "You know, he gets this from you," he accuses Dean dryly, and goes straight over to refill his coffee mug.

"Traitor," Dean tells a wagging Miracle.

She isn't ashamed in the slightest.

END

#suptober21 #destiel #destiel fic #their love is real #dean and cas are in love #dean and cas are Jack's parents #dean and cas deserved BETTER #dean and cas deserved a happy ending #they all deserved to be happy #castiel is jack's father #jack deserved to be happy #found family #domesticity #miracle the dog #post-15x20 #post finale #fix it fic

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crimsonandcloverwrites · 2 years

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My Dani/Jamie works on AO3 (@crimsonandclover):

Let’s be honest, baby: FWB/PWP AU, 73.9k words, multi-chapt, complete, rated E.

Come What May: Slow burn figure skating AU, 30.7k words, multi-chapter, incomplete, rated T (for now).

put her on her knees (give her something to believe in): an anniversary celebration/shameless smut, 8.6k words, one-shot, rated E.

living on a fault line: a teenage pregnancy AU, 14.8k words, multi-chapt, incomplete, rated T.

midnights and cups of coffee: a year of dating via diary entries, first person (Dani) POV, 9.6k words, multi-chapt, incomplete, rated M.

Under a Lover’s Sky: “two strangers meet on sleepless nights,” AU, Masked Author “moon” prompt, 1k words, one-shot, rated T.

that dizzy edge: the five times they fake kissed and the one time they didn’t, university AU, 9.8k words, two-shot, complete, rated T

mess me up, yeah, but no one does it better: stripper/Magic Mike AU, 18.6k words, multi-chapt, complete, rated E.

The Ropes and The Reins: Rodeo/horse girl AU, 4.6k words, one-shot, rated M.

it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth: collection of short fics based on tumblr prompts, largely fluff, mix of AU and canon compliant, 5.3k words, complete, rated T.

Heaven is a Halfpipe: skateboarding/roller skating AU, pure fluff w a touch of hurt/comfort, 12.2k words, multi-chapt, complete, rated E.

and rustic baskets of kisses: “an early morning at the leafling,” canon compliant, Masked Author no dialogue prompt, .5k words, one-shot, rated G.

are you gonna be my girl: DJ/promo girl AU with a sprinkling of serendipity, 3.6k words, one-shot, rated T.

on melted wings: “Dani lets Viola in, Jamie always stays,” canon compliant angst, Masked Author song fic prompt, 1k words, one-shot, rated G.

I am sent running to search under the trees: collection of short fics inspired by songs, some fluff and some angst, mix of AU and canon compliant, 3.3k words, complete, rated M.

#bly manor fic #the haunting of bly manor #will try keep this updated as I go but a nice lil summary i can pin for now!#lbhb #hiah #mmau #come what may #tmau #yod au

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narrators-journal · 3 years

Text

Life after the fact

CW: mentions of some nasty stuff related to kids.

First part: Here

For the next few days you were a mess. Between the morning sickness and the guilt of having murdered someone, you were throwing up every bit of food or water you tried to digest, every shadow and small noise in your crappy, dirt cheap apartment at night sent you into a break down, sickened more with fear and the force of your sobs when you got overwhelmed. You never felt like you could relax, everything was nerve-wracking, and especially when you went outside. However, as the weeks passed, you got a handle on your fears. You weren't exactly okay, but you forced yourself to adjust and move on as best you could. As if the paranoia wasn't enough, you also had to deal with being pregnant on your own now. Oh god, I should've just stayed with Illumi! What the hell am I supposed to do about this whole thing?! You thought one night as you sat in your windowless bathroom, curled around the toilet, vomitting from the nerves, nausea, and violent sobbing, I wish I could just go back...apologize and just go back to the way things were. you lamented as you sucked in shakey, cold breaths that burnt your throat. It wasn't like you'd planned this far ahead, your escape attempt was a heat of the moment thing, fuelled by the fear of what might happen after you gave birth and the gut feeling that your partner would doom your child to a life akin to his own, which was definitely not a normal, healthy, or happy one. So, now you were left to suffer the last, stubborn thrashes of winter alone, in a crappy little apartment with walls so thin you could feel the last icy wind of winter when it blew, struggling with pregnancy symptoms and relentless paranoia of what will happen if or when Illumi finds you. After that night, you decided it was best to do what you could to lessen your stress, but that was easier said then done. For one, no matter the steps you took to ensure your safety, taking jobs great distances from where you live, whipping up a fake identity to use for work, limiting how often you went out, you could never fully convince yourself that you were safe from the Zoldyck family. Another thing that stopped you was your financial situation. You managed to nab a bit of cash from the car you'd stolen from the butler, using most of it on a cheap car, but, while a reasonable amount still, you still ended up taking up a job as a maid-for-hire of sorts, and usually your employers would tip you terrifically when they figured out you were pregnant, but with the gas bill, food, and the sketchy amount of rent you had to pay, you had little to nothing left to save for a better place or the baby. Finally, you realized after looking into it at one of your employer's homes during your break, that you were too far along in your pregnancy for termination, since at that point you were somewhere in your fourth month, so that left you with almost no other option than to find a way to give birth. After that, you just settled for having the child at home to avoid the paper trail a doctor's office would need and than leaving the baby at a church. They'll take the kid in and put it into foster care, which is a safer gamble than the Zoldycks. You thought, wiping the beginnings of tears from your eyes as you drove to the day's job. For the remainder of the day, you focused on your work, cleaning up toys, doing and folding laundry, making beds, the usual duties for this particular household, and did your best to not think about your past. That is, until you heard someone knock on the door while you were upstairs mopping the bathroom. The sound instantly sent ice down your spine. It felt as if the world skipped a beat in time with your heart, but at another knock, you took a deep breath and inched towards the distant door. Your heart thundered in your chest so hard that it hurt, but you picked your way down, staying away from the windows and doing your best to move stealthily with the slowly growing bump of your stomach until you could look out of the front door's peep hole. Thank the heavens it was simply your employer, a neatly dressed, glasses clad woman who you'd heard was a lawyer or CEO of some sort, not an assassin. So, just as she gave a third, more impatient knock, you opened the door, "I'm so sorry ma'am! I couldn't move too quickly to get to the door sooner," you said, not meaning to sound near hysterics, but at least that made you sound super apologetic as the woman huffed in annoyance, "It's fine, I just had my entire day upheaved." she said, walking in and you swiftly shut the door, not thinking much of the figure you saw standing at the roadside from the corner of your eye, she commonly had other helpers here when you were, it was likely just a gardener or someone to bring in her bags. "First, I burn myself with coffee at 6 am this morning, than I have to drive three damned hours to the airport just to find out my business trip was cancelled because the client decided to cut ties with my work! Ugh, don't get me started on tr-" The woman paused her ranting and hair adjustments suddenly, looking at you with concern and confusion on her dark-skinned face, "Are you alright, dear? Why are you crying?" Her voice was gentle, all annoyance gone when she'd realized you were upset, but it still made you jump and feel a small spark of guilt at the show of vulnerability, something you'd been fighting to repress. But your emotions had been so unpredictable recently, it only made sense that you failed. "I-I'm sorry, I don't know what's come over me," you sniffed, scrubbing at your tears as she put a reassuring hand on your back and led you to a chair, letting you sit down, "Don't worry about it, I just thought I was the one to upset you. Are you sure you're alright?" You nodded as she looked you over, looking so parental and compassionate, it made your heart hurt. And just like that, even more tears were falling onto your clothes as a sharp knife of loneliness cut through you. You did your best to at least slow the streams of tears, but seeing this woman you hardly knew be so motherly and understanding reminded you of your own mother, or maybe those times Kikyo had helped you through the beginnings of morning sickness or nausea. Either way, your boss' actions hit a chord and now you were trying not to bawl while she offered you tissues and talked you down from the hormonal extreme. "I see now, must be the pregnancy talking." she laughed a little, "when I was expecting my eldest, the mood swings never really left, and just about anything would set me off. I remember one time, my husband had made me breakfast and I ended up sobbing over it for a good five minutes while he was just mortified." she said, giving you a comforting smile when you weakly laughed. Finally, when you were past the violent sobs, your boss helped you up and led you to the kitchen so you could splash some water on your face and she could get you some tea to help you relax. Once you were settled down at the table, warm cup of tea between your hands, your boss sat at the table with you and let you take a few sips before asking, "So, do you have any plans set for the baby?" she asked, and you felt her warm eyes drawing out all of your issues. You started out pretty vague, admitting you weren't really sure of what to do, but that soon led to you going into detail about how you didn't think you'd be keeping the child and probably putting them up for adoption since you couldn't afford them. You told her that you felt so bad for the decision, but you didn't want to raise your child in poverty or worsen their quality of life in general, which your boss understood, laying her dark hand on yours soothingly as you spoke. For the next hour or so, you sat with the woman and she helped you through all of your options. You told her that the father of the child wasn't the best, so she explained good ways to limit contact and how to keep track of every instance of neglect, abuse, or anything of the sort just in case things required lawyers and courts. By the time you'd left her home for the day, you were feeling much better about your situation, and while your plans to put the baby up for adoption hadn't changed, you were much more confident in the steps to go about it. You kept that job for two or three more trips, telling your boss of your plans to stop after that. She understood perfectly and made sure your pay was doubled, "Pretty soon you'll come up on being six months, you won't be able to do a lot in your third trimester." she pointed out after you refused to accept her money, but that wasn't the only kind thing she did for you. No, on your second to last job with her family she had basically spun you around at the door and herded you out to her car. "I understand you're trying to keep as low a profile as possible, but I can't in good conscious not have that child checked on." she told you as she drove you to a check up, patting your hand and just letting you bawl, but she refused to let you apologize for her helping. In fact, when you thought back on the drive after the appointment, she seemed somewhat sad, but you couldn't exactly place why and on the drive back you didn't want to ask and open an old wound. So, you simply didn't say anything about it and went home that night with knowledge that so far your baby seemed fine, and a tip from your boss to find some time to relax more, "Make sure to destress as best you can, it's good for your mental health and the baby." she advised, as motherly as ever. So, you decided on your drive home to give that advice a shot. At least once. So, after your last job with that family, while spring time was beginning to really settle in outside, leaving a crisp but fresh feeling night in the wake of a lukewarm day, you had borrowed a book from a neighbor and ran yourself a warm bath to hopefully relax in, even if you likely wouldn't be able to get out of it super easily when bedtime rolled around. Despite that fact, sinking into the warm water felt like heaven to your aching back, breasts, and hips. So, you relaxed in the water for a long while, two hours or so, just reading the book and occasionally putting your hand on your belly to feel the baby kick. The only thing that could've made the night better was if you had some scented candles and maybe a shoulder rub, but you were content with settling for this. All around, the night was near perfect, and that was somewhat because you refused to let your anxiety at the little creaks of your floor or the sounds of your neighbors opening their own doors in the ratty old hall destroy your good time. Eventually, you did get out of the cooled water with some work and got dressed in your comfiest clothes before going to bed, feeling rather happy and relaxed, and thus falling asleep rather quickly. That night, you had quite the weird dream. You weren't a stranger to nightmares about Illumi or the Zoldycks, but this dream was much more melancholy. At the start, it was pretty normal, a nonsensical flurry of dream-logic-fuelled, stream of consciousness, but than things got a bit easier to follow, and the dream took a turn from non-sense, to a bittersweet dream of laying in bed with Illumi again, letting him feel your belly and generally being happy with an undertone of 'something's off' to it. When you woke up the next day you were hit with a tsunami of yearning for that scenario, or any scenario that meant you got cuddled and comforted, and didn't feel so crushingly alone. For the twentieth time since the beginning of the month, you thought of returning to the Zoldyck estate, or at least making it easier for your fiance to find you, but than your common sense kicked in to stomp out that fantasy. No! If I go back my life will be more than just miserable boredom and restrictions. It'll become worse than hell! Illumi will be pissed beyond belief and will probably do something extreme to me! Your fearful inner voice had a point, Illumi had already threatened you when you'd asked to go out without him that day, he'd undoubtedly do worse to you for not only trying to run, but staying gone for so long and putting your baby under so much stress. Oh god, what would he do if I miscarry? The mere thought of his reaction was enough to settle the debate. You'd stay gone. You'd put up with the apartment that smelled of wet dogs and smoke, the paper thin walls, the exorbitant rent, you'd leave your baby at a church once they were born, and you'd go off the grid. If you could help it, you'd never go back to face Illumi and his family.

#Illumi x reader #sequel #outrunning obsessions #hxh #hunter x hunter #x reader #sequelette #Illumi zoldyck #fanfiction #quotev

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Of Muffins, Coffee and Other Miracles - Pt.2

Of Coffee, Brownies and-- Frack

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader Word count: 2210

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Warnings: swearing, tons of fluff and cheeky/cute Daredevil/Matt

Summary: You’re a secretary at Landman and Zack, having an office on the same floor as the interns. You notice one of them (which you might and might not have a crush on) seems down lately, so you decide to cheer him up the only way you can come up with. You bake muffins; right after your life is saved by a cheeky vigilante.

Part 1

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Wild night out?” a male voice made you snap from your dozing and you straightened in your chair with a startle.

Oh shit. Oh fuck, you were so fired.

You look up to the man who addressed you, relieved it was only Foggy – one of the interns. He wouldn’t report you, right?

“Uhm… not sure I would call it wild, but… strange for sure.” Not every night you get to be kissed by a vigilante, even if only on your temple.

“It wasn’t drugs, right? Because drugs are bad,” he whispered, looking around for anyone who could hear. You smiled at him tiredly.

“I know. Not… that kind of strange. What can I do for you… Foggy, right?”

“Yes!” he confirmed cheerfully, until his smile fell. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we were introduced. You’re…” he eyed the name on your desk, repeating it dutifully.

“That’s me,” you confirmed with a nod. “What can I do for you?”

“Oh! Right. My friend, Matt, he’s interning with me here, I’m sure you saw him around. He’s… well, blind.” Oh, I did see him around. “Usually, he gets the copies of the files in braille, but today… whoever is the good soul doing it for him forgot or something and… I have no idea where to find a braille printer here and you seem to know your way around…? And you also look like you’re not gonna fire me for asking.”

You found yourself smiling in the presence of the cheerful man. “Only if you promise not to tell anyone that I was basically sleeping.”

“Deal.”

“Thanks. You have the file? I can print it. Honestly, anyone who knows where to find that printer or how to use it wouldn’t have the authority to fire you. Just send it to me and I’ll drop it in your… your…” you stuttered, unsure how to finish that sentence.

“You can say it. It’s a closet.”

“It is, isn’t it? But which one?” you played dumb, because… reasons. You shouldn’t have known where they were, you didn’t need it. Why would you? Yeah, I’m sooo subtle…

“Oh, the one down the hall.”

“Okay. Just e-mail me the file number and I’ll deliver.”

“Really? You’re amazing.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you laughed nervously. Amazing. You didn’t think – scratch that, you were sure your boss never called you that, and you were saving his life on daily basis; he wouldn’t even sign a paper unless you handed him the pen.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong…” Foggy pronounced, pointing at you. Then he seemed to realize something. “You said not many people know where to find that printer?”

You shrugged. “Not really, I guess. It’s on the fourth floor, but it’s next to impossible to go there unnoticed by people guarding printers and they are bitch to talk to, so if you ever need anything just tell me, I’ll do it for you. I’m sure your life is enough depressing in that… cubicle.”

“Hm… okay, thanks a lot!” He spun on his heels, walking out.

Weird.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Dropping off the files in the right closet, you were confronted with… your crush. You might have not realized it before, but… yeah. You were confronted by Matt Murdock himself and you were suddenly very sure you had a crush on this man. Crap.

The thing was… he was his typical self, which meant… really charming. He stood up from his desk when thanking you, learning your name, shaking your hand. He gave you one of the nicest smile you had ever seen, his grip firm, but gentle; you just stuttered when saying ‘nice to meet you’, stumbling out as quickly as possible, shaking your head over your own inability to communicate like a normal person.

One thing you noticed about Matt that day though was that he had a rather angrily looking gash next to his right eyebrow – whether he ran into a door or something else happened, you didn’t know. But you were glad you had baked the previous night, secretly leaving your backup lunch to ease the blind’s man pain.

You were stuck hungry because of that; you couldn’t make yourself regret it.

You were a hopeless case.

And a liar on top of that, because you had said it wasn’t ‘like that’ just few nights before. Perfect.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

It was raining that night, so you didn’t leave a snack for the vigilante who apparently kissed crime victim’s temples. Maybe the next night.

Or never, because he would avoid you forever, realizing that you were as far from his Lois Lane as you could be. Which was probably a good thing.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You looked up from the screen at the sound of someone knocking. It was unusual – the door was always open, so people normally just waltzed in.

Matt freaking Murdock was standing in that open door, holding his walking cane and a cup holder in one hand, his other hand on the glassy door. You blinked in surprise at the sight. And god, he was such a sight for your sore eyes…

“Anyone in?” he asked carefully and you fought the urge to face-palm. He couldn’t see you watching him – which might be a good thing, considering you were shamelessly staring.

“Yes! Hi, Matt. What can I do for you? Someone forgot to print case files again?” you wondered when you gathered yourself.

He smiled, turning your direction, walking towards your desk.

“Uhm, no. No, I came to… say thank you.”

Did you hit your head in the shower this morning?

“Uhm. You’re welcome, it really wasn’t a big deal.“ You mentally praised yourself for so many coherent sentences. His smile only grew wider.

“Here. Uhm, I was told you were a bit tired yesterday, so I figured you might appreciate a coffee. One’s black with sugar, which should have ‘B’ on the cup, and the other one is vanilla latté with ‘V’. I had no idea which you might like.” He held out the holder for you to choose.

You had definitely hit your head. What the hell? Or rather… what the heaven?

“I… you really didn’t have to do that, Matt. That’s… thank you, but… it was just a file. Anyone would do that.”

You found the V cup, taking it hesitantly as if it could explode in your hand.

“Well, for one, that’s not true, especially here, and… it’s not just for the file,” he offered with a cute smile.

It wasn’t the smile that sent your heart racing. Well, it was, but also the thing he was implying— did he somehow figure out you were his… secret muffin-maker? Well, shit.

“I’m not sure-“

“People by the printers on the fourth floor are next to impossible to sneak by – that’s your words, not mine. Next to impossible, but not completely. That suggests you know how to do it. I imagine the bosses wouldn’t be happy finding out you’re using the printer to write notes for miserable blind interns, so sneaking under radar it is.”

You pressed your lips together, squeezing your eyes shut, cursing mentally. And out loud. “Frack.”

“So, you know. Thank you. The muffins were delicious. They did make my day much better,” Matt assured you and an unfairly warm feeling spread in your chest. Maybe it wasn’t such a disaster he found out.

“There’s no way I’m finding a way to prove you wrong, is there?” you sighed. “You should reconsider your career choices, you would make a great detective. Glad it worked. I know that muffins can’t fix all the problems of the world, but occasionally, they can save the mood.”

“Not wrong there. I... uhm… the coffee is the best thank you I’m capable of. I hope my debt is paid.”

Well. That made more sense. “You didn’t have to-“

“That came out wrong. I wanted to say thank you, to erase a potential debt, because I was…”

You tilted your head to side, waiting what brilliant end that sentence would have. For once you weren’t the one who apparently didn’t know what to say.

“I was wondering if you would want to go for a coffee sometime? Or a dinner, maybe? Not as a thank you.”

Throw the incapability to speak up back on me, why don’t you. You blinked in utter shock, your knees buckling a little. Come again? “Not… not as thank you. You’re… you’re sure of that?”

“Hundred percent positive.”

You were certain you heard wrong. Which was easily possible given how loud your pulse was in your ears.

“Oh. Uhm… yeah. Okay. Sure. Just… just to be clear, since it’s not a thank you-“

“It’s a date. If you want it to be,” he added quickly, his confidence slightly shaken.

“If I want it to be…” you muttered under your breath incredulously. “Is the sky blue?”

“You tell me, it’s been a while since I’ve seen it last time,” he replied, grinning. He was so not supposed to hear that. Dammit.

“Oh my—… yeah, last time I checked it was still blue.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out a phone, holding in out for you. “Would you enter your number in it, please? First name’s enough. I’ll call you.”

You finally set your cup down and took the phone from his hand, still not quite believing this was happening. Your fingers brushed his lightly when doing so, nearly sending you into a cardiac arrest. Jesus.

“Sure. You don’t have a distaste for black coffee right? Because I can totally switch the cups, I haven’t even sipped mine yet,” you mumbled as you were entering your number.

He laughed. “I like black coffee.”

“Noted. And number saved.”

You returned the phone to his extended hand. “Thanks. Dinner or coffee? I would offer a lunch, but the muffins appeared during lunch-breaks, which suggests you’re not leaving the office.”

“Detective, seriously. Dinner?” you asked, unsure.

“Dinner it is.”

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Dinner it was. And an amazing one. Matt picked the restaurant wisely – nice, but not too expensive, because neither of you were exactly rich (not that it mattered, because Matt was a gentleman who wouldn’t let the woman pay for the food, definitely not on the first date) and that way you could have a dessert without remorse; financial one anyway.

Matt saying that your muffins were better after eating a chocolate brownie was just the icing on the cake of how… sweet he was. He was even more wonderful than you had thought, but despite becoming a lawyer and working between the sharks, he was a down-to-earth person. Not playing any… leagues. And you had fun. His sense of humour was refreshing and he was apparently more than capable of smiling and laughing as cheerfully as his friend. He was a freaking sunshine and you found yourself drawn to the warmth and light like to a magnet.

He walked you home, looking almost disappointed that the night was ending, which was a sentiment you shared wholeheartedly.

“If I wasn’t so full, I would invite you upstairs. I have muffins,” you whispered as his hand travelled up your arm, wavering in the crook of your neck and he leaned closer to you.

The corners of his lips rose a little higher at your note and you were honestly regretting he was still wearing his dark red-tinged glasses. You would like to see his eyes to complete the picture.

“Well, I would say I’m sorry, but I’m actually glad. I… I really enjoyed tonight. I wouldn’t want to screw up.”

You could tell he hesitated, his thumb caressing your neck in silent question. You leaned in as well. ”I can’t really imagine you screwing it up, Matt, no matter what you would do. Unless you‘d wake me up now.”

“Is that a permission?” he breathed out an inch from your lips.

“It’s a plea.”

He met your lips softly, retreating too soon.

“Please, don’t wake me up,” you mumbled, not sure you wanted him to hear it.

“This is a goodnight kiss,” he reassured you lowly, kissing you again, caressing your lower lip and making your knees unfairly weak. “We’ll work our way up to a good morning one. If you’d like.”

You brought your hand to the back of his neck, keeping him close just in case he was getting any ideas and you returned the kiss, nibbling on his lips just a little. He let out a content sigh, his fingers tangling in your hair, his body shifting closer to yours.

“Probably sooner than later,” he mumbled against your mouth, making you smile and hum in agreement. You added ‘excellent kisser’ to the mental list you were making about him. Hot. Sweet. Gentle. Funny. Smart. Ray of sunshine. Gorgeous smile. Likes black coffee and my muffins. Never should stop kissing me.

He met your lips for the last time, withdrawing with a smile, his thumb running over your jaw.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, licking your lips to savour the taste of his own.

He pecked your temple lightly, wishing you the same.

‘Familiar,’ you added to your mental list and your heart, fluttering until the moment, started hammering in your chest wildly. Familiar voice, familiar smile, familiar gestures-

No, no, no, no, no. That was ridiculous. You were projecting again, you were-

“Clark?” you chocked out, perfectly aware of how stupid it was, expecting Matt to shoot you a puzzled look and ask you about your possible ex or something.

Except Matt did no such thing. Instead, he froze and said just one word that meant you were somehow, in some impossible way, right.

“Frack.”

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Matt Murdock Masterlist

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It’s silly and I’m grinning when writing it and posting it and I’m most definitely sure that this cliff-hanger is the end and it’s all up to you to wonder what happened next ;)

Thank you for reading :-*

#marvel #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil imagine #mcu #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock #of muffins coffee and other miracles #anika ann

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sirrriusblack · 4 years

Text

The Consequences of Betryal

Sirius knew.

He was on his motorbike, wind whipping through his hair, trying to forget his thoughts. He didn’t like thinking of Remus the way he did. He didn’t want him to be the spy. But it was—it was the only reasonable explanation. And Sirius didn’t want to think about it. So he was on his motorbike, wind whipping through his hair and he knew. He wasn’t sure how, whether it was some sort of connection that could only be explained by magic, or just a feeling between two brothers, but his whole head emptied and he just… knew. He spun on his bike, a sharp turn that he’d never usually risk, and flew it into the air. He’d get there quicker by flying. He revved the engine and shot through the stars, over the city and into Godric’s Hollow. He got there quick.

But not quick enough.

The side of the house, where Harry’s nursery was, was just… gone. Blown off. When Sirius hit the driveway, hard and fast, he didn’t even bother turning the bike off before he ran to the door. With his wand already out, he stepped inside.

Sirius knew. But he still hoped he would be wrong.

He’d never seen Regulus’ body. He used to get so angry about that. There was no body, no way to even bury Regulus. Like he didn’t deserve that honour. Sirius used to get so angry about it but now all he could be was grateful. Because James’ body, lying on the floor, was too much to bear. His skin was pale and dull, like the curse thrown at him had drained him of all his light. Sirius looked down at his best friend, his brother, laid dead before him. His glasses were askew, crooked on his face. Sirius sat beside him and put them back into place.

He couldn’t do anything else. He wasn’t crying, he wasn’t screaming he was… he was just numb. Everything felt wrong. James’ hand lay by his side, cold and stiff. His wand was nowhere near him, but over on the coffee table in the living room. Sirius could imagine it. James standing there, defenceless. The curse hitting his chest. James stumbling backwards. His last thought of Lily and Harry. Sirius knew James would do anything do anything for them.

At that thought, some sense was knocked back into Sirius and he could stand again. He made his way to the stairs, where the baby gate had been ripped away. Like a mockery. Like a message. He ran up the stairs and into the nursery. A million memories flashed before him. Sirius walking into the room, fresh hot tea for James and Lily, who were covered in bright yellow paint and smiling from ear to ear. Pete setting up the cot, screwing things into the wrong place and turning bright red as James laughed his ass off at him. Sirius placing Harry in his cot, bundled in a yellow blanket. Walking in to hear Remus reading—Charles Dickens of all things—to Harry. James and Lily standing by the cot, watching their son sleep. A million memories flashed before him. A sob finally escaped his lips at the scarlet hair falling around Lily like a crown. She’d given Sirius the jacket he was wearing. He remembered how happy he’d been, how he’d shrugged it on and stared at himself for hours. He remembered how Lily had smiled at him “Happy Christmas, Black.” He could still hear her words in the back of his mind. What had been her last words? She looked like a fallen angel. Cast from heaven and falling, falling and burning and broken. She’d hit the ground and here she was. She wasn’t cold and dull like James was. Her cheeks were still red, they were still wet with tears. As if Lily had more life, more hope than James had. Like she hadn’t given up, even in her last breath. And James has been ready for it, ready to face death if it meant sparing Harry and Lily. Sirius took a step forward and another sob sounded. But it didn’t come from him. No, it was a loud, messy, deep sob.

Sirius clutched his wand and listened to the steps coming closer. He backed up against the wall.

“Oh Merlin,” a voice gasped. A familiar voice. Was that—

“Hagrid?” Tears were running down his face, and he ducked through the door. “Oh Lily,” he murmured. Hagrid turned to Sirius and held up his pink umbrella. Sirius almost laughed at the familiarity, and yet he felt nothing warm. Because there was a look in Hagrid’s eyes that Sirius could only flinch at. It was the look he got from nearly everyone when he told them his surname. It was the look of hatred and—fear.

“Black,” Hagrid murmured, glancing between Sirius and Lily. A baby started crying. Harry. Sirius made to go him, to pick him up and calm him down. But Hagrid moved between Sirius and the cot.

“Hagrid, I—“ Sirius started to speak, to ask what was happening, before Hagrid flinched. Tears were falling into his beard.

“Black, I don’t know what happened here,” he glanced around the room again, the wall that was missing, the stars leaking in, Harry crying in his cot, looking down at Lily, spread out on the floor. “But I’ve got orders to get ‘arry and take him back to Dumbledore. I need you—“ Hagrid’s voice cracked and Sirius shook his head, not wanting to hear what Hagrid was saying. “I need you to get outta my way.” Sirius thought of all the injuries Hagrid had fixed for him and his friends, all the times he pretended not to see them sneak into the forbidden forest, all the cups of tea and the ‘Er- I shouldn’t ‘ave told yer that…’s. And now Hagrid thought… what did he think exactly?

“Hagrid, it wasn’t me, I didn’t tell him anything,” Sirius explained. Hagrid’s fist went white around the handle of his umbrella.

“Oh, Sirius, I want to believe yer, but you were the secret keeper, were ya not?” He said with a sadness Sirius couldn’t bear. Like Hagrid had already accepted that Sirius was just who everyone thought he was. A dirty, rotten Black. He winced.

“No, Hagrid! I’m not. I— I wasn’t,” he corrected. Hagrid tilted his head. “Well, I was, but then I told—“ Sirius’ voice cracked at his brother’s name. “I told… James to change it. To Pete. Because I figured that I would be the most obvious answer and we all… we all thought that... that Remus was the spy,” he spat out. “But he wasn’t,” Sirius quickly realised. “Remus wasn’t the spy...”

Pete was.

Wormtail. Who hid chocolate for Remus and cleaned up Sirius’ cuts and built Harry’s cot. Wormtail was the spy. Sirius felt his gut drop. It had been so easy to blame Remus. It had been easy to think that something would have to come between Sirius and Remus, that nothing could stay that good. Sirius had sabotaged his and Moony’s relationship. It had been so easy to think he was the spy, and then Dumbledore sent him to the werewolf camps and it just… it fit in with everything. And it was Pete all along.

“It was Pete.” Hagrid’s eyes widened. Harry cried louder. This time, when Sirius made to grab Harry, Hagrid didn’t stop him. Sirius picked the baby up and pushed his hair out of his face. There was a large scar on Harry’s forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt. Sirius cried then. He felt the tears, hot on his face as he held James’ son. Harry’s wails subsided.

“Pa’foo,” he said, nuzzling into Sirius.

“Shh… shh Harry, Uncle Sirius is here, everything’s going to be alright,” he said, kissing Harry’s head. Hagrid stepped forward. Sirius turned to him. “What does Dumbledore want to do with him?” Sirius asked. He was Harry’s godfather. That meant Sirius and Remus would raise him, right? As soon as the confusion was cleared and he worked through this with Remus. As soon as Peter was found guilty. Hagrid loosed a breath.

“I… I don’t know, ter be ‘onest,” Hagrid finally lowered the umbrella, looking at it like he’d forgotten he was holding it in the first place. “I’m ter meet ‘im at ‘arry’s aunt’s.” Petunia. Right. But that would only be temporary. And then Sirius would get Harry. He looked up at Hagrid.

“My bike’s down in the driveway. Take Harry, get him safe. I need to see Peter. Tell Dumbledore it wasn’t me. Give him…” Sirius ran to the study and wrote something down on a piece of parchment. “Give him this and tell him I’ll be ready for Harry by morning,” Sirius said, handing him the parchment. Hagrid gave him a sad look, but took the note along with Harry. Sirius sighed. “Twist the handles back twice to get the bike in the air. It turns invisible to the muggle eye as soon as it leaves the ground. Take care of Harry, will you?” Sirius said. Hagrid nodded.

“‘Course I will,” he promised, turning to leave. He turned back in the doorway and looked down at Lily before he glanced back up at Sirius.

“They didn’t deserve this,” Hagrid said, “but don’t go doin’ anythin’ you’ll regret,” he finished. Sirius nodded and watched him walk away.

He waited until the engine revved before he kissed Lily’s cheek and made his way back down the stairs. He couldn’t just leave. Not James. He was still there, lying on the floor. That seemed obvious, but it shocked Sirius still. James was his life source. When everything felt dull, and painful and quiet, Sirius only had to look at James, at the glint in his eyes, the hand messing his hair, and he felt alive again. James was his brother, his family, his best friend. And now he was cold and dead and that life in his eyes was gone. Sirius fell to his side again. The mirror was sticking out of his pocket. The mirror Sirius and him had charmed in fourth year so they could talk to each other from miles away. Sirius held it and pulled his own piece out of his back pocket.

“James Potter,” he whispered, holding his piece up to his face and James’ up to the roof. Nothing happened. “James Potter!” he said again, shouting this time. Sirius watched his face stare back at him, waiting for an answer. Once again, nothing happened. Sirius screamed a string of curses and threw James’ piece at the wall and it shattered. James was dead, Lily was dead, Harry was an orphan. And it was all Pete’s fault. How long had he been spying? How long had he been on the wrong side of the war? Had he been in league with Regulus? Narcissa? Bellatrix? Sirius growled and stood up. He took one last look at James—at his brother’s corpse—before he stepped out into the night with one desire on his mind. Answers.

#sirius black #james potter #lily evans #jily #harry potter #marauders era fanfiction #marauders era #my writing #october 31st #anggggst #padfoot and prongs

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ancientwastedlores · 4 years

Text

The Support System (Ch: 4)

SUMMARY: The Avengers have managed to collect all the infinity stones across the universe, and are currently keeping them in far corners of the world, only for research and to see if they can improve the planet and its people. Reader is a researcher with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, as well as a field agent. Loki is currently serving time for his actions in New York City in 2012.

A/N: Find this chapter on AO3 here. Links to the first three chapters are below. Let me know if you want to be tagged when I post new chapters, and also my ask is open for fic requests :) I might take some time to get to them, but I WILL get to them!

AO3: The Support System Tumblr: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Chapter: 4/? Warnings: N/A Audience: general.

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CHAPTER 4:

The next morning, you wake up with Loki’s arm and leg draped over you. You get out from under it and peer at the TV. It’s paused on the fourth episode. Maybe Loki saw you had fallen asleep, or maybe it was the other way around... you don’t remember. You leave him to sleep and go to brush your teeth, amazed at how completely normal you’re treating this to be.

For whatever reason, you’ve seen Tony Stark get drunk, but never seen him hungover. The man is a miracle worker. Bruce is holding his head in his hand, and no one else wants to talk, but Tony is practically bouncing off the walls. He must have 15 cups of coffee in him, you think to yourself.

You sit down at the table with the Avengers, who all lift their heads to look at you.

‘What?’ you ask. ‘It’s your turn to make the breakfast, didn’t you remember?’ Tony asked.

You shoot up, having completely forgotten that the cook doesn’t come in on weekends and the responsibility for breakfast and dinner falls on one Avenger a week.

‘Sorry sorry sorry, I’ll get right to it, give me a few minutes’. ‘No worries, we’re still working on our coffees. We haven’t been up long’ Nat reassures you.

You smile at her and then run frantically run get your ingredients together.

‘Good morning’ Thor walks in, all smiles. Everyone else groans at the noise. Another man you’ve never seen hungover, but it would make sense for a god, wouldn’t it?

Bruce turns to look at Thor, then narrows his eyes. ‘Did I… Did I cry last night?’

‘Yeah, you cried because that child over there…’ Tony points at you, ‘lifted Thor’s hammer’ ‘I’m not a child, I’m 22 years old’ you protest. ‘Yeah, okay kid’ Tony says. ‘Hello’ Loki greets and another round of groans greet him.

You quickly jump to defend that to him, ‘They’re just terribly hungover, Loki’.

He smiles at you and walks over. ‘Can I help you?’ ‘You actually can. Tell me you know how to make poached eggs?’ ‘I wish I could’ ‘Can you toss some tomatoes around in a pan?’ ‘Never done that before, I could try?’ ‘Can you slice the bread?’ ‘Yes, that I can do for you’.

You hand him a large bread knife and a loaf of uncut brown bread, and instruct him to cut the slices thick.

Tony’s eyes widen at you handing Loki a knife that large, but says nothing. You notice, and badly wish to make a show of it, but decide not to.

You turn to the stove to make your poached eggs, while the crust of the bread cracking under the knife act as music to your ears. You don’t cook much, but when you do, you love to smell and touch and hear everything. Loki cuts the slices as instructed, and after toasting them, and places them all on plates, ready for you to lay the eggs on them. You add tomatoes and mashed potatoes to the plate as well, and wash your hands quickly to cut some fruit.

Loki leans over as you cut an apple. ‘Can I show you something?’ he asks. You look up from your task without stopping it, ‘Of course’

He creates five clones of himself, which each take two plates and walk to set them down on the dining table. You laugh. ‘That’s amazing!’

Everyone else is sceptical, but hearing your laughter, they stay put. They still glare at all the Lokis setting their plates of food down, but the clones promptly vanish after the task.

‘You could cook us an entire meal and not lift a damn finger’ you tell Loki.

He looks genuinely glad you enjoyed the show. He takes the one remaining plate that’s yours and waits for you to bring the fruits over. You finish up, wash your hands again, and sit at the dining table with the rest. You notice Loki has shifted from his usual seat to one right across from you. You steal glances at him while you eat, recounting the previous night when you watched Doctor Who together. However, it’s the episode you keep recounting, not actually sitting next to Loki watching it.

‘What plans today?’ you hear Tony ask. ‘Pep and I are going down to Clint’s, he said he needs help fixing up some farm equipment’. ‘Can Bruce and I join?’ Natasha asks, to which Tony says yes.

Everyone else has plans outside; Rhodey has a camping trip planned with his friends, since it’s a three-day weekend. Vision and Wanda are moving out of the tower to a nearby apartment, and want to set that up, and Thor wants to take Jane to Asgard.

After everyone has ticked off their plans, they ask you what you plan to do. Normally, you join in on whatever Tony is doing, other times you meet with your friends from back in S.H.I.E.L.D, but you see that Loki has no plans, and no one has included him in theirs either. You look across and notice him picking at his food, trying to not think about it.

‘Oh, I’m staying in the Tower with Loki and marathoning Doctor Who again’ you say.

You feel Tony’s gaze burn into you, while the others silently continue to eat.

‘Have fun’ you hear Bruce say. It sounds forced. ‘You too’ you still say.

You walk into the lab to pick up a few papers and see Bruce and Tony.

‘Aren’t you guys leaving?’ ‘Yeah, in a second, we just needed to put the stone back. Can’t leave it open for an entire weekend’ Tony says. ‘Hm, fair enough’ you go to your table and pick up another set of papers Strange sent over. He certainly has you doing a lot of reading!

‘Do you want one of us to stay back?’ Tony asks. ‘Whatever for?’ ‘You KNOW what for, you can’t be alone with him in the Tower’. ‘I’m NOT alone, the tower is full of security and staff... although why the Avengers Tower needs security, I don't know'. ‘You know what I mean’. ‘No, I really don’t’ you’re getting a little annoyed now. ‘Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t have preferred ONE person being on your side vouching for you, being there for you, when you thought the worst of yourself a few years ago?’

Silence.

‘Well, why does it have to be you?’ Tony asks.

‘Because... it’s no one else’ you sigh. ‘Because I’ve been here for a whole year, he has been here longer, and in all that time, it’s been no one else. And I know what that’s like. YOU know what it’s like, how can you let anyone feel that way when you personally know how terrible it feels?’

‘He just wants you to be safe’ Bruce says. ‘I know’ you place your hand on Tony’s shoulder. ‘Tony, the burden of the world doesn’t fall upon you. You don’t have to be responsible for every single thing’.

He looks at you, his face inscrutable. He finally shrugs and pulls you into a hug. ‘You be safe, okay? If there’s literally anything, you call me. I don’t care if it’s 4 AM and you’re dead, you call me’.

You laugh. ‘I’ll keep that in mind, assuming the after world has good phone reception’.

‘If you’re carrying the phones I issued, they'll work anywhere’ he lets go and winks at you. ‘Now get outta here, go watch your time travel show’.

You walk into your room, expecting Loki to already be waiting there with the remote in hand, but he isn’t. You wonder if he’s playing a prank on you and call out his name. Setting the papers down, you look behind the curtains, open up your closet, and check the washroom. Nothing.

Where is he?

Figuring he’ll appear when he wants to, you start on the pages Strange sent you.

About an hour later, the door to your room opens. You look up see it’s Loki.

‘Hey, where have you been!?’ ‘Where have I been!? Where have you been, I’ve been waiting for an hour’ he says. ‘Aren’t we watching it here?’ ‘No, I told you, since we’re alone, I thought we’d watch it in Stark’s theatre’.

Oh right. Stark also has a theatre in the residential wing for movie nights. He mostly screens horror films, much to your annoyance, so you rarely ever go there. But you never considered watching your favourite TV shows on there.

‘That’s an amazing idea, why did I never think of that!?’ you push your notes and papers aside and get up. ‘I also got the staff to get us some traditional movie snacks’ he informs you.

You squeal and clutch his wrist, and pull him out the room as you do so before letting go quickly. You don’t know it, but you just sent tingles up and down his body, and he is now smiling the biggest smile walking behind you.

You sit at the back of the theatre, the seats next to yours and his full of snacks. Popcorn, cookies, nachos, chips, even hot dogs. You wonder how the conversation went between Loki and the staff member he asked to fetch all of this on a Saturday for just two people.

The marathon begins.

Tuesday morning, the rest of the Avengers come in to work. You’re already awake, and decide to greet them all at the reception.

Rhodey trudges in first with his rucksack, stinking to high heaven. You gasp and try to push him away as he tries to hug you. ‘You took Stark’s jet, it has a freaking shower, Rhodes!’ ‘I thought it would be more fun to hug you like this, what’s wrong, don’t you like it?’ he asks innocently. ‘Shut up, go take a shower, oh my god my eyes are burning’.

He laughs and drags his rucksack along.

Tony and company come next, carrying their bags. Clint is on the phone, most probably with his wife. You greet them, and Tony asks how your weekend was.

‘Excellent, I may have put on a little weight with all the snacks I ate, so I have to work extra hard this week’ you joke. Natasha hugs you, and lovingly pokes your stomach. ‘You’re back on training right after breakfast'. ‘Yes ma’am’ you give her a small salute.

The rest of the company moves along and Bruce stays back. ‘Are you good? Tony was worried’.

‘Yeah, I had a great time. We literally just watched the show and ate’. ‘Okay…’ Bruce sighs from relief. ‘Good to hear. I’ll see you in the lab’.

Thor comes in next. You greet him too, and he wordlessly walks up to you and envelopes you in a giant hug.

‘What’s happening’ you ask. ‘Heimdall saw you’. ‘That’s the watcher dude?’ He laughs, still holding you. ‘Yes, the watcher dude. The watcher dude says Loki hasn’t been this happy in ages, and I think you’re doing a good job’.

You weren’t trying to do anything, but you're glad to learn Loki is in fact enjoying your company. ‘It’s no trouble. He’s fun to spend time with, we enjoy a lot of the same things’. ‘Like what!?’

You wish you hadn’t said that, because what you’ve spent the weekend talking to Loki about is the Infinity Stones. Not the sentience, because you knew that would be a bit much, but certainly about its powers, the previous owners, the seventh that was destroyed by Adam Warlock, its place in the cosmos, and much, much more.

You can’t tell Thor this, of course, because it would be interpreted differently.

‘Just, you know. Time travel. And other planets. He told me about Asgard’. This wasn’t a lie. ‘That’s nice’ he smiles warmly at you. ‘Well, I have some work in Asgard, I only came to drop Jane off and thank you. Goodbye’. ‘Bye’ you say. You hear a thud, the Tower shakes, and Thor disappears.

Finally, Wanda and Vision walk in and greet you. You aren’t that close with them, but you're always nice to each other.

You go for breakfast, and things go on as usual.

There’s a week left for the extraction mission, and Tony informs you that he expects it to take about a week, five days if he were coming, but he isn’t, causing Natasha to roll her eyes.

A group of arms dealers are expected to be in New York next week. Your mission is to infiltrate the warehouse in Queens, where they are working. Tony has found out they will be getting a new shipment of weapons in a week, and bit by bit, your team is to break down their networks in Hong Kong and Dubai.

You’ve been on field assignments before, but never this long, nor this big. Nervousness isn’t even a word in your dictionary, you’ve been preparing for this so long, you feel like you could kill it in a single day. Tony senses your fire and has been “subtly” trying to direct that energy into training.

‘I know what you’re doing, I’ll be fine’ you protest. ‘I just don’t want you bouncing off the walls during the mission. I know how excited you get’.

Even Bruce wants you out of the lab after a point because you won’t stop talking and walking around, being a total distraction. Bored, and having trained and training new S.H.I.E.L.D recruits, you decide to see what Loki is up to.

You walk in on him reading in the living room.

The living room is huge, furnished in white with subtle gold embellishments. Tony considered asking every Avenger giving their personal touches here and there, and decided it wouldn't work, because Thor wanted red, Natasha wanted black, and Vision thought minimalism was a good idea, while Rhodey disagreed and asked for a water feature. So Tony listened to no one and just did what he wanted.

‘What are you reading?’ you ask, walking in.

Loki shows you the cover. American Gods.

‘Why are you reading that?’ ‘I think it’s amusing how the writer has painted Odin’.

You smile, remembering that in the story, Odin is a fallen god.

‘I leave in a week’ you say. ‘Yes, I know’ Loki says, without looking up from his book.

You wait for any sort of acknowledgement that he’ll miss you, or at least to be safe. When you get nothing, you shrug and sit down across from him.

‘I’m bored’. ‘Uhuh’. ‘Do you wanna fight me?’ you ask, quite casually. ‘What!?’

You grin at him. ‘I’m bored, and also excited about the mission, and I don’t know what to do with all this energy’. Not having sparred in ages himself, Loki puts his book aside and stands up. ‘Where?’ ‘Training room’.

#loki #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fanfic #marvel fan fiction #avengers fandom #tom hiddleston #twhiddleston #tom hiddlston x you #marvel fandom

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iwantthedean · 5 years

Text

A New Fall

Graphic courtesy of @atc74.

Part Three: Granny Smith. Tart and crisp.

Summary: Jensen spends more time around town. Y/N makes an effort to keep the farm in the family name. Pairing: None … yet. Word Count: 2198 Warnings: Set post-Season 15, which I know makes a lot of people sad to think about. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my proposal square for BTZ Bingo.

A/N: Thank you for the continued support! I am loving writing this series :)

Masterlist

You spent the weekend more or less not speaking to anyone, just baking away your frustration. Jensen’s deceit hung heavy in your mind and sent you through a maze of emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger. Sad because someone was actually going to make an offer on the farm -- one you probably wouldn’t be able to match, let alone beat. Disappointment because, at your age, you thought you were past being played by guys. Finally, anger because the man had swooped in, handsome and charming, but turned out to be a complete fake.

By Monday morning, the anger part of all of that had more or less taken over. You slammed a coffee cup down from the cupboard in the teacher’s lounge. You poured your coffee, then slammed the pot back down onto the burner. Everything was getting slammed around, and you were mumbling under your breath about the jerk who had come to your farm only to steal it away from you.

“Jerk? More like an ass,” you grumbled, turning to leave as you sipped your coffee; you gasped when you saw your friend Taylor standing there, arms crossed over her chest and brow raised.

“Rough weekend, Y/N?” she asked.

You sighed and cleared your throat. “Yeah, a little. You getting coffee?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ve got to go set up for my morning lesson. Meet me in my classroom?”

“Deal.”

You made way for your classroom, and Taylor was only a few minutes behind. She took a seat at the horseshoe-shaped table you used to work with student groups, and you took a seat in your chair across from her while you stapled activity packets.

“I have to sell the farm, for starters.”

“What? You’re kidding!” Taylor exclaimed.

You nodded. “Yeah. The money’s just -- it’s not a good situation. Anyway, after our half-day, I was going to do some work around the place, and this handsome stranger pulls up. Tall, sandy brown hair, green eyes. A little older than me, probably. Anyway, he tells me he’s just visiting and wanted to check out the farm. So we went apple picking and went to the pumpkin patch. We had all these flirty moments and cute looks --” You paused to groan at your own stupidity. “-- and then I went inside to get him a bag for the apples he picked, and Mr. Kemp pulls up in the driveway because this ass was there to see the farm to potentially buy it!”

“And he didn’t tell you? What is that about?” Taylor frowned. “We could figure out where he’s staying, get into his room, and … I don’t know. Do something … horrible.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, T, I bet if I give you enough time, you could maybe finish that plan.”

“Shut up,” she said, laughing along with you. “Look, don’t let him get to you, okay? The more important thing, it seems to me, is how you’re going to keep the farm. Let’s focus on that. Have you talked to the bank?”

“Yes. Mr. Kemp helped me get all the paperwork I need, and I take it all to the bank tomorrow after school. I won’t get a decision right away, which means I’ll be anxious as all get out until they give me an answer.”

Taylor nodded. “What did your dad say?”

You licked your lips and sighed, stacking the finished packets in front of you. “I haven’t called him yet. I will when I have more concrete information.”

“Maybe he could help …” She trailed off when you shook your head before the sentence was even done. Noting the first bell was going to ring soon, she put a hand on your arm. “Just keep your chin up, okay? Everything’s going to work out. I know it.”

You gave her the ghost of a grateful smile. “Thanks, Taylor. Go ahead, get to class. I’ll talk to you at lunch.”

“I’ll try to have a plan to get back at Mr. Handsome by then,” she teased, winking at you as she left the classroom.

* * * * *

For the third day in a row, Jensen was visiting The Farmer’s Stand. Just as planned, he had stopped there after leaving the orchard and purchased a jar of applesauce. He went back the next day for apple butter and a package of cookies that hadn’t been on the shelf the day before, as well as a loaf of homemade bread. Today, he was here for another jar of applesauce.

There was only one on the shelf, so he snatched it up before anyone else could. He perused through the market, also selecting a loaf of pumpkin bread marked from Y/N’s farm. At the register, Ms. Kitty rung up his items with a kind smile.

“Are we going to be seeing you every day, Jensen?” she asked. He appreciated that she remembered his name, though he would venture a guess that she remembered just about everybody who came through the market.

He chuckled. “Keep selling all this yummy stuff and I probably will. You know, food at the hotel is pretty good, but is there anywhere else you’d recommend in town?”

She nodded earnestly. “Midge’s Cafe, over on Ninth. Today’s beef stew day, actually -- comes with mashed potatoes and a freshly-baked roll. Their pie is great too, but I think you’ve got plenty of sweets here.”

“That I do,” Jensen agreed. “How much do I owe you?”

Ms. Kitty gave him a total. “Have you visited the apple orchard yet?”

Why did that question feel like a trick? “I have, yes. Met Y/N while I was there.”

The older woman sighed. “Such a shame she’s got to sell the place. This town was two-bit until their family came in and planted the orchard. They were plenty well off, but they started the pumpkin patch so the kids could have somewhere in town to go on field trips -- not because they had any need.”

Jensen took the bag of things he had purchased from her. “She said she’s the fourth generation to own the place.”

“She wasn’t lying. I’m sure you would have guessed, but I went to school with her grandfather, and my kids went to school with her father. Let me tell you -- that whole family is as sweet as Y/N. Every single one of them. Honest, hard-working, kind. When my son took over this place after my husband passed away, he wanted to stop doing business with them, for whatever reason.” She waved her hand, not worried at all about the particulars of that situation, it seemed. “Anyway, I wouldn’t allow it. You just don’t do that to good people, and Stephen doesn’t understand that. Whoever takes over the place, we’ll see if they want to continue to do business with us, I suppose.”

“They’d be crazy not to,” Jensen offered. “Thanks for everything, Ms. Kitty. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She smiled and waved goodbye. Jensen enjoyed visiting with her, but today, he was happy to get out of there. Hearing about Y/N’s family and how much they meant to the town only made him feel worse about potentially buying the place. Nevermind that he couldn’t get the glare Y/N had given him out of his mind -- a look he well-deserved.

As he drove over to the diner, he passed the elementary school. He smiled a little as he watched the kids play while he waited at the red light. This town was idyllic, a simple respite from the hustle and bustle of the last fifteen years of his life. His smile faded some when he spotted Y/N supervising the playground. She was zipping up the jacket of a little boy who was grinning wide while she talked to him. Once his jacket was zipped, the little boy hugged her leg before running off to join his friends again.

The driver behind him honked his horn; Jensen snapped his attention back to traffic. The light was green, so he proceeded through the intersection toward the cafe.

* * * * *

You honestly weren’t expecting an answer from the bank until the following week, so when you saw a missed call from them after school ended on Thursday, you heart immediately began to race. The message from the bank manager was asking you to come in and see her, so you went straight there once the parking lot cleared out.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” she smiled, motioning to the chair across from her. Please, have a seat.”

Sitting. That was good, right? That meant you’d be there for a while, potentially. Going over loan documents and signing papers, maybe? Oh for Heaven’s sake, Y/N. Just sit down.

“I’ve gone over all of the documents you brought over, and I spoke with Bartholomew Kemp -- he spoke very highly on your behalf.”

“He’s a very good friend to our family.”

She set her elbows on the desk. “Unfortunately, Y/N, you simply don’t have the financial background we like to see in our loan candidates. I even tried for a smaller amount, the minimum of what you would need to keep the farm for a while longer, buy you some time -- but it was a no-go.”

You forced yourself not to cry in the bank office. “But … I don’t understand. We’ve been banking with you all for years. My first auto loan was through this bank. My father kept my college fund here. My grandfather --”

The bank manager held up a hand. “Let me stop you there. Your family has history in this town, I’m well aware. And, if this was fifty or sixty years ago, maybe that would hold. It just doesn’t work like that anymore.”

“I understand,” you replied quietly. “Thank you, for the update. I’ll -- okay. Thank you.”

You took a deep breath, put your jacket back on, and shouldered your bag. In the car, you told yourself it was okay to cry, but you couldn’t even force the tears. You were just … numb. If you couldn’t get a bank loan, you didn’t know what else you would do, or could do.

“Guess it’s time to call Dad,” you sighed. As soon as you got home, you dialed the number and settled on the front porch swing to break the news to him.

* * * * *

Jensen sighed and hung up the phone. Bartholomew Kemp had just called to let him know that the owner of the farm was taking offers, and if he would like to place one, he just needed to email it over to Bartholomew. He wasn’t the only one making an offer, so if he was going to throw his hat in the ring, he needed to do it soon.

His lawyer sent over the written offer; Jensen printed it in the hotel’s business center, and walked it into Bartholomew’s office himself.

“I know you said to email it, but I wasn’t doing much anyway,” Jensen explained, letting go of a nervous chuckle. “So, is -- is Y/N pretty upset?”

Bartholomew looked up, brow raised. “Uh, yes, I suppose she is. Rightfully so.”

Jensen nodded and thanked the other man for his time. He left the office and sat in the car for several minutes, contemplating his next move.

The front office staff at the elementary school was kind enough to tell him how to find Y/N’s classroom, and informed him she was on her lunch break. No doubt the modest bouquet of Autumn flowers piqued the secretary’s interest, but he just made his way out of the office and down the hallway.

She was sitting at a table in the room with another teacher, and her eyes grew wide when she spotted him just inside the doorway of her classroom.

“Um, hi. What are you doing here?” The greeting and phrase fell out of her mouth in a panic as she stood. “Oh, um, this is Taylor. She teaches here, too. And she’s my friend. Taylor, this is Jensen Ackles. He -- yeah. This is Jensen.”

“Nice to meet you,” Taylor greeted, giving him the kind of tight smile that told him Taylor knew about his omission of the truth when he first met Y/N.

He cleared this throat. “This all seemed like a better idea in my head, honestly, but since I’m here … um, I am trying to learn from my mistakes and I thought I would come here, offer you the flowers to apologize for not telling you the entire truth when we first met and also to … let you know that I made an offer to Mr. Kemp today.”

Her surprised expression transformed to the anger he had expected. She took the flowers from him and set them on the table. “Well, thanks for the head’s up, I guess.”

“Yeah, I thought you should probably know, in case I’m around the farm again, so it doesn’t take you by surprise.”

“Great.”

Y/N sat back down and resumed her lunch. Taylor kept her back to Jensen. The silence was uncomfortable. He stumbled around his words for a few more tries, then exited the room. He sarcastically and silently congratulated himself for such a smooth interaction.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @theplaidshirtmadness @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace @calaofnoldor @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @sleepylunarwolf @chances-and-miracles

Jack Attack: @tiffanycaruso @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles @adoptdontshoppets

A New Fall: @marilynnlew @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @traceyaudette @ellen-reincarnated1967 @maddiepants @littlewhiterose @tftumblin @monkeymcpoopoo @pinknerdpanda @thatgirl1456 @deangirl7695 @foxyjwls007 @woodworthti666

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an-unknown-writers-world · 4 years

Text

Game Night

Day Six: Christmas Cocktails

Part of @panicfob 25 Days of Christmas Challenge

Warnings: Fluff, Sam and Bucky sass.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (First Person, Nameless). Platonic Bucky x Sam,

Word Count: 1742

A/N: As always - thank you for taking time to enter this brief fictional moment of heaven. The beginning of this series can be found on my Masterlist if you’ve missed any of this. Also - please know that Saturday and Sunday’s update (Day 7 and 8) will be posted early to mid-afternoon pacific standard time. Thanks for your understanding.

-----------------------

“It’s Friday night. We should do something fun.” Sam said sitting next to me on the couch.

“How is tonight different than any other night?” Bucky asked from the opposite love seat.

“I don’t know, it just is. I feel like we’ve all been so busy lately that we haven’t done much.”

“We just went to the toy store yesterday,” I stated.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Sam, we are not friends.” Bucky deadpanned.

“Bucky,” I chided, throwing a pillow at him. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Thank you,” Sam looked at me with a smile.

I rolled my eyes, the two of them would be the death of me. Somedays I wondered how I lived with them. But Sam was right we haven’t spent much time together lately. We never did anything traditionally. It’s not like we scheduled things, they just happened, and no one ran away. Often times we would wander into the theater room at various times and watch a movie, once Sam accidentally binge-watched an entire season of Gossip Girl and Bucky sat through both versions of Beauty and the Beast back to back.

“Whatcha got in mind?” I asked Sam.

He shrugged, “You’re usually the party planner.”

I laughed, “I’m not throwing a party, Sam.”

“Are you imply the three of us cannot have a party together?” Sam quipped.

Bucky silently sat across from me fidgeting with the pillow that laid on his lap. The sitting room was arranged with the couch and love seat facing each other with a beautiful oak coffee table in between. I often laughed to myself every time one us forgot to use a coaster or put our feet on the table; Tony would have killed us. There were several things that we could do just the three of us.

“Well let’s start with the basic,” I questioned. “Do you want to stay in or go out?”

“In,” Bucky said,

Sam nodded in agreement.

“We could do a movie night or game night?” I suggested.

“Game Night,” Sam shouted.

“Board games or adult games?”

“Adult,” Sam and Bucky agreed.

“Fine, then I need you to go pick up a few things for game night.”

“It’s your idea.” Bucky pointed at Sam.

Grinning, “It’s a good idea.”

“I’ll make you a list,” I stated. “You’re not off the hook, Barnes. You got things to do too.”

Sam stuck his tongue out at Bucky as I walked by.

“Leave it out there long enough one of your bird brothers is gonna shit on it,” Bucky replied.

I couldn’t stifle the laugh that escaped. Making my way to the kitchen I found my note pad that I kept on the next to the fridge and quickly made out a list for Sam. It was only a handful of things that needed to be picked up, but I was going to need Bucky’s help with locating a few things around the house. Sam came into the kitchen, car keys in hand a reusable bag in the other. I held out the list for him and he took it.

“That’s an odd list,” Sam noted.

“Not when you put the ingredients together.”

He examined the listed for a moment, “Ooohhh,” It seemed to finally click for him, “table?” He questioned.

“Formal dining room.”

“Him?”

“Valkyrie sent a supply over a few months ago, never been touched.”

“You might be a genius.”

I shook my head, “Just lived a long life.”

We both laughed.

“I can win at this game; old man’s got multiples things stacked against him.”

“Win at what game?” Bucky asked coming around the corner.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Thanks, friend,” I called out as he walked out of the kitchen.

“What game?” Bucky asked again grabbing hold of my hand.

I smiled at him, “A card game.”

He looked at me confused.

“Will you help me do a few things?”

“How can I say no?” He smiled.

“Tony’s old poker set is out in the garage, could you go grab it please?”

He nodded, “Anything else?”

I shook my head no,

He kissed my knuckles, “I do know how to play poker.” Bucky replied smiling as he walked away.

Trying to wrap my head around when and how he learned to play poker I made way to the formal dining room. I needed the drink pitcher and the mead that Valkyrie had sent over. Grabbing one of the drink trays I piled the items I needed and carried them back to the kitchen; none of it had been used since the fourth of July party and I wanted to make sure it was clean.

I was drying the dishes when Bucky came back into the kitchen.

“Poker set is on the table,”

“Thank you,” I said drying the pitcher. “Sam should be back any minute.”

“Does he really think I don’t know how to play poker? I’m old but I’m not that old.” He said pulling himself up to sit on the counter.

“To be fair I also thought that. Not because it wasn’t around the whole time you’ve been alive, but you were so young when you went off to war.”

Bucky’s face fell slightly, “Doll, I wasn’t the most innocent kid when I went off to war and you think we didn’t play poker during world war two?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “I guess I’ve tried not to put too much thought into that period of your life. It wasn’t exactly a great time to be alive.”

“It had its good moments, every time period does.”

I shrugged realizing I didn’t know as much about Bucky as I wanted to.

“C’mere.” He said softly.

I stepped closer finding myself standing between his legs.

He smiled down at me, “I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

“Promise?” I asked.

He kissed my forehead and wrapped his arms around my shoulder pulling me into his chest. This was a good place to be. Over the last few days, Bucky had become more open about touch – the kiss to my hair in the mornings when he’d come into the kitchen for coffee, hand-holding while watching the evening news; it was a new side of him, one that I was honestly enjoying. I wrapped my arms around his waist and laid my head against his chest.

We stayed that way for a few quiet moments, nothing else existed but us.

“The party can now begin,” Sam called out entering the kitchen. “Oh, come on.” He said looking at the two of us. "I have to go out in the freezing ass cold while y'all sit here and cuddle?"

Bucky laughed at Sam’s look.

“You get the right stuff?” I asked pulling from Bucky’s grasp.

Sam set the bag on the counter pulling out the bottles of rum and cognac.

“Are you making spiked eggnog?” Bucky asked.

“Sure am, and I’m making a separate pitcher for you.” I smiled.

“I can drink alcohol, doll. It won’t hurt me.”

“I know that silly. But I have this.” I held up the Asgardian bottle. “A little present from Valkyrie after the mission you went on for her.”

“Great,” Bucky smiled. “Sam let’s go set up the table.”

“He knows, doesn’t he?” Sam asked me.

I smiled, “apparently he wasn’t a pure soul in 1945.”

Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder, “That shouldn’t surprise you.”

“Get out of here.” I said smiling, “Taking the cups with you please!”

The boys disappeared into the dining room while I prepared the pitchers. I grew up playing poker with my dad and brothers, so I certainly wasn’t afraid to play with these two. The thing I was looking forward to the most was the bonding; they took cheap shots at each other all the time, but I knew that was never going to change. I just hoped that one day it could lead to an actual friendship between them.

Grabbing both pitchers I went to join them. I sat down at the end of the table with them on either side of me. I filled empty glasses and distributed them to the appropriate person, Bucky moving his pitcher to the other side of him to be sure they didn’t get mixed up.

“To friendship,” Sam raised his glass.

“Awe, Sam,” I said clinking glasses with him.

“Oh, I just meant you and me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“But we’re not friends,” Bucky replied to Sam.

I rolled my eyes and laughed again. These two, they were friends even if they wouldn’t admit it.

We played, laughed and drank. Before we knew it the pitchers were empty and there wasn’t a single sober soul in sight. In my opinion, empty pitchers meant the end of the night, it was not up for debate for me. Bucky helped Sam put the poker set back together in the case while I washed up dishes.

“Everythings put away, doll,” Bucky said coming to lean against the counter next to me.

“Thanks,”

“It was fun, thank you for putting this together for us.”

I smiled at him, “Buck, I didn’t do much beside pick a card game and make a pitcher of eggnog.”

“You put up with us.”

I laughed, “That is a task.” Turning the water off. Bucky handed me a dish towel for my hands.

“I”m gonna head to bed,” He said standing up.

Something came over me, I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t want to be on separate sides of the house, I wanted us to be together. Afraid of sounding childish and needy I stepped in to hug him. He pulled me close, my arms around his waist. Feeling brave from the liquid courage surging through my blood I kissed the hollow between his neck and collarbone. Bucky hummed at the touch.

“Stay with me,” I pleaded.

Bucky pulled back to look at me, it was the look of a tortured man. “Doll, I want to, believe me, I want to.” His flesh hand came to cradle the side of my face, “But not tonight, not like this. When we stay together, alcohol will not be a factor.”

It was hard to be upset with him when he was just being noble, but my mind stuck on the phrase ‘when we stay together’. He did not say if, he said when. I let out a heavy sigh, he was right.

He kissed my temple, “Good night, doll.”

#panic's 25 days of christmas #25 days of christmas #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #falcon and the winter soldier #sam wilson #bucky barnes #An Unknown Writers World writes #An Unknown Writers World

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hopeless-starry-kingdom · 5 years

Text

Birthday Boy | Peter Parker

Summary:August 10th.One of the most important days of the year

a/n:I had this idea and couldn’t wait to till August to publish :)

Your alarm only beeped once before you were up and out of bed with a wide smile on your face.It was 5:30 in the morning,you began your journey around your room to quickly get dressed and leave for today.It was Peters birthday today,and you’ve been planning this day for two months now.

Not only was he turning eighteen and it was pretty big experience but he deserved it.That boy deserved the whole world and space and if you could give it to him,you absolutely would.Once you were finished getting dressed,you grabbed the shoe box filled with letter and Polaroid pictures of the two of you.You then went into the hall closet and grabbed eighteen red and blue balloons.You swung your backpack over your shoulder,since today was a school day,and balanced your car keys,the shoe box,the balloons,and his gift in your two hands.

You practically stumbled into your car and let out a sigh as you didn’t drop anything.The car drive was only about ten minutes.And you basically ran into his apartment building.You sent May a text telling her you were here,and with a couple seconds she was opening the door“Thank you for helping me”You whispered as she grabbed onto the shoe box and balloons “It’s my pleasure,Y/N.Thank you for doing something like this for him”She smiled gratefully at you

“Ok so there’s a lot of pictures,so I’ll do that part.Here’s the letters”You handed May the six letters and the tape and she began taping them to the balloons.You started to sort through the pictures you had to try and find the perfect ones.Your smile grew wider with each picture you saw

When you finally taped the last one,a picture Ned took of you sitting on Peters lap and kissing his cheek on the Fourth of July,May smiled at you. “You sure you don’t need help”She handed you the happy birthday banner and he shook your head“I’ll be fine.So he doesn’t wake up”She nodded and you slowly opened the door.Your heart skipped a bear when you saw him sleeping so peacefully.You wanted to climb into bed with him and cuddle him and forget the whole plan.

But you didn’t instead you began arranging the balloons all over his room in no particular order.You grabbed the banners and carefully climbed onto his desk to hang it.It creaked and you froze in place,tape stuck to your finger and the sign falling down slowly.Peter mumbled something incoherent and waited for a second.Before continuing with hanging up the sign.You carefully climbed down and grabbed the birthday card and placed it on the bed side table.You picked up the gift and placed it on the desk.And with one final look at the sleeping boy you loved,you quietly exited the room

“May,I’m leaving now.Im going to the bakery he likes and getting him something for school”May nodded and hugged you tightly “He’ll love it”You both smiled before bidding you a goodbye

You parked into the student parking.You figured Peter would be waking up any second now,so you sent him a text

“Good morning,birthday boy!I can’t wait to see your pretty face.I love you x”

You quickly walked into school,coffee tray holding two coffees and the chocolate muffin he adores,and a happy birthday balloon.You stopped at his locker and twisted the lock and entered the four digit code.It opened with ease and you placed the balloon neatly in the locker and carefully shut it.Now you wait

When Peter woke up,he wasn’t expecting balloons to be scattered across the room.He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.When his feet hit the floor,he saw a card waiting for him.

Hi,Petey.Youre obviously awake if you’re reading this.Happy birthday my love.I could go on and on about how much I love you...so I did.My love couldn’t fit on this card so go ahead and read the letters ;) xx

His heart felt so heavy.But in the best way possible.You did this all for him?He seen the red and blue balloons and laughed.He picked up the red one closest to him and seen a picture from your sophomore year.He remembers when it was taken.You,Ned,and him had went to the Valentines Day dance.You weren’t dating then but the next day it was official.You were both looking at each other and laughing,his hands were on your waist and yours was around his neck.He had said something ridiculous and you burst out laughing,causing him to laugh.

He smiled because he loved that day,he kissed you when he dropped you off at home.Then realized he should probably ask you to be his girlfriend.Peter looked around the room and seen so many more Polaroid pictures taped to balloons,and letters.He opened the one that was by the foot of the bed

Dear Petey,

It’s June 15 and you just left for a mission in California.Youve always wanted to go to California,see the beaches,experience the heat,see famous people.I hope you’re having fun.But I won’t know that until you come back next week,which seems like a life time away.Because I hate being without you.I love you but sometimes it’s the way I love you that makes me hate you.Sounds weird,doesn’t it?But I love you with all my heart Peter Benjamin Parker.And as I’m writing this I realize,I want to spend the rest of my life with you.No one else but you.Now that might seem super cliche and even freak you out a bit,but it’s true.Its 1000% true.Because I love the shit out if you.And I can’t imagine my life without you.

I love your cute little nerdy science shirts

I love the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh really hard

I love the way you’re not selfish.At all.

I love when you refuse to do you’re hair because then it’s a mess and I love it that way

I love that you’re the biggest nerd in the world

I love your crooked nose

I love your eyes

I love that you’re a genius

I love how you live by some moral duty

I love how you insist that we watch Star Wars every weekend

I love that you’re Spider-Man,even if it does scare me when you leave to fight

I love you,Peter Parker.I love all of you.Every single damn thing.And I thank heaven above that you were made.Because I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here

-Happy Birthday,Pete x

By the end,Peter didn’t realize a tear had fell down his cheek.Until it hit the note.He sniffles and wiped it away.He smiled and stood to out the letter in his desk,he then realized there was a gift on his desk.He carefully opened up the large gift bag and tore out the tissue paper.At the top was a large box,he reached in and pulled ut out.He laughed when he saw the Spider-Man wrapping paper.Just as he was about to rip open the paper his phone chimed,alerting him of a text.He reached onto his night stand and smiled when he saw it was from you.He quickly double tapped the message,liking it,before quickly rushing around his room to get ready once he seen the time.

He didn’t want to be late.He didn’t want to keep you waiting.He finished getting ready in fifteen minutes.Before sitting down and tearing open the wrapping paper.Inside was one of the newest Star Wars LEGO set.He knew the set wasn’t cheap,which led him to the sticky note in it

“Ned and I went halfsies.Dont worry your pretty little head about it ;)”

He smiled before going back into the bag and pulling out a picture frame.It was of an old picture,something you probably got from May.Something he hasn’t seen before.It was of him from the day he was born.His mom held him in his arms as his dad,Uncle,and Aunt all smiled down at him.He wondered why he had never seen this before,but figured that didn’t matter.He had it now and that’s all that mattered.He carefully placed it down on his dresser and wiped his ready eyes before walking out,backpack in his hands

“Morning birthday boy”May kissed his head as she put her coffee down “Thank you,May”He smiled down at her.She stood and held his shoulders

“I can’t believe your eighteen already.You’ve grown up before my eyes a-and”There were tears in her eyes and Peter sighed.She didn’t want May to cry,he felt she did too much of that. “May,no tears please.I love you but if you start crying I’ll start crying”She nodded and grabbed her keys off the table

“I’ll take you.I have a surprise for you actually.They’re in my car.Lets go”Peter nodded. as soon as they sat in the car,she handed him a box.She started driving and told him to open it.Inside there was a watch and a set of cuff links.He recognized the cuff links as Uncle Bens but not the watch“It was your fathers.I promised to give that to you when you were old enough.And now you are.They’d all be so proud of the man you become,Pete”

He looked down at the watch and slid it on his wrist.It felt right “Thanks May”She parked on the side and touched his arm“No,problem.Now go see your girl”He smiled at her and kissed her cheek before quickly getting out and practically ran inside.Once he saw you his whole face lit up.

“Hey,babe.Happy—”You were cut off by his lips and it was short and sweet.You pulled away and giggled, “Wow,I’m guessing you liked my surprise”His smiled brightened as you handed him coffee and the muffin “I loved it.It was perfect.God,You’re perfect”He leaned in and kissed you again “I love you.So much”You smiled up at him

“I love you too,Pete”You looked down at his wrist that held cupped your cheek “This from May?”You questioned as you placed your hand over the watch“Yeah,it’s my dads”You smiled up at him “He’d be so proud of you,Peter.I know he would”He kissed you again before wrapping an arm around your shoulder “Thank you”

“You can still come right?Mr.Stark really wants to see you again,he said it’s been awhile since he seen you.But I think he just wants to embarrass me”You laughed and nodded “Of course.I wouldn’t miss your birthday dinner for the world”

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #birthday #spiderman: hoco #spiderman #spider man: homecoming

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officialleehadan · 5 years

Text

Red Letters

Tracy was out at a coffee shop, studying for what would hopefully be the last finals she ever had to take, when a letter, written in gold on red paper, appeared by her hand.

She ignored it until she stood to get more coffee, and dropped the note into the recycling on the way.

Another appeared moments later.

She threw that one away too.

The third one served as a coaster when her coffee cup proved to be less than water-tight.

The fourth one mopped up the remains of the spilled coffee.

The fifth one joined the first several in the trash.

She had been finding the red notes in her things for the last two days, and was having none of the demonic idea of letter-sending. It wasn’t from one of hers, and so she wasn’t interested. If they wanted her attention, they could come over and introduce themselves properly.

And if they caused problems, well, it was Glowbat, working as a barista behind the coffee counter, and he had been brewing the coffee with holy water since Tracy arrived. Zuk was beside him, cheerfully flirting with anyone who bought something, and Achel must have been taking lessons from Blake, because everyone he spoke to bought a cookie.

Low grade temptations. Tracy smiled and let them have their fun. They were only here because she mentioned that some help with the rent would be nice.

So naturally, all sixteen cats went off and found jobs in under an hour. She would be bothered, except that they all seemed genuinely happy with the work, and the money served to buy them the goodies they were finally brave enough to buy themselves. Tracy approved completely and insisted on each one of them getting something nice for themselves out of every paycheck.

It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford it. On nineteen incomes, counting Tracy’s freelance work and Angelika’s Heavenly stipend, they had more than enough to go around.

“Mistress.”

It was Trill, holding another of the letters. She looked scared, and Tracy hugged her until she took a slow breath and calmed down. Poor Trill. She was shy and easy to spook. Tracy made a point of snuggling her a lot. Whenever Blake didn’t beat her to it, anyway. Trill was his favorite of the Cats.

“Who’s it from?” she asked when Trill was in a state to answer. “Did they threaten you?”

“No, Mistress,” Trill said softly. She was honestly the best spy among the Cats. She was so quiet that she tended to go unnoticed even when she was in plain sight. It was a particular talent, and Tracy, now that she was making herself a target, was using to her advantage. “I don’t know who it was from. It appeared in my pocket.”

“Okay,” Tracy said and took the note, before looking around, her newly-changed vision useful for spotting demonic presence in the room. There were her Cats, and she hadn’t noticed Roux and Pookie in the corner but she smiled when she saw them. But there was also a barely-there man-shaped glimmer in the farthest table from the bar. “Go off to the others. I need to see a man about a letter.”

So saying, she neatly folded the note into a perfect paper airplane, caught the man-glimmer’s eye, and lofted it into the trash without getting up.

Trill looked between her, the empty space where she was staring, and made herself scarce.

Tracy went back to her books and waited to see if whoever-it-was would actually show up to have a conversation like a reasonable person.

Demons. All drama. Letters. Really.

The chair across from her scraped on the floor, and Tracy didn’t look up.

“It’s not nice to scare my Cats,” she said mildly, highlighted one more paragraph, and closed the book. “Now, what do you want so bad that you sent six notes to me?”

The man across from her was polished and gorgeous, but now that she got a good look at him, she didn’t think he was a demon. Or, he wasn’t precisely a demon. He looked different than the other demons she knew.

There was a sense about him, of immeasurable size, like he didn’t quite fit in his skin. Tracy hadn’t noticed anything like that around the demons she knew, but then, her demons were all relatively minor or, in Blake’s case, didn’t bother with a monstrous true form. And her brush with Astaroth was before she knew how to spot a demon.

He ran a fingertip around his coffee mug and considered her for a while. Tracy dumped more sugar into her coffee and stared him down. If she was doing this, tossing her name into a war that had been raging for millennia, she was going to do it right.

Maybe that semester of game theory classes was worth the money after all.

“You’ve taken something of mine,” he said finally, voice low and lined with silk. “I wanted to see for myself the mortal who thinks to challenge Hell.”

“I’m not challenging anyone,” Tracy said, and stirred her sugar into her coffee even as she considered praying to Gabriel. Instead, she caught Roux’s eye and nodded once. He vanished out the door at a run. The rest of the Cats were terrified, huddled together and ashy-grey with fear. That alone told her who this must be. “Nice to meet you, Belial. I hear you took a vacation recently.”

+++

Higher Being Housemates:

As it turns out, rent is really high in Heaven. It’s not great in Hell either. An angel and a demon come to an agreement that works for them both.

Their human housemate still hasn’t decided whether or not to help them, or kick them all out of her house. After all, Grad school is hard enough without the Great War making it worse.

Bright Red Panties

Black and White Feathers

Demonic Comfort

Demonic Intervention

Unwanted Attention

Magpie Wings

Don’t Fall

Sparklers and Demon Smiles

Holy Words

Holy Tea

Santa Baby

Pledge Promise

Unholy Fuss (Free on Patreon)

Tuxedo Cat (Subscribers Only!)

Shadow Puff (Subscriber Only!)

If This Then That

A Third Side (Subscriber Only!)

Sharp Edges

+++

More Stories!

+++

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comebackseasonisamess · 5 years

Text

The Fact (In All It’s Glory)

Hansol/Vernon | angst

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Descriptions of self-loathing, worthlessness

Summary: Follow up of Before The Fact. (You can read this without having read the other fic) Just as quickly as you got together, you and Hansol split apart. And apparently it affects both of you equally as much…

A/N: I do mention some IRL names and labels in this fic. I would like to say that this fic in no means reflects reality, and is a figment of my imagination sprinkled with a bit of my opinions in it. Also it’s so incredibly hard to find some angsty!Hansol gifs out there…

While I’m posting this, I am so sorry if (on mobile specifically) there’s just a long text blurb I’ve been trying to fix it but it isn’t working and I am so sorry just skip over this if you’re uninterested

It’s with a heavy heart that you tell Hansol that it’s over. His eyes well up with tears, and his breathing becomes heavy. He grips at your shirt, begging you to tell him what he did wrong and how he can fix it.

“It’s not you, it’s me.” You utter the most cliched phrase in the history of breakups. Because it’s true. If it weren’t for your inability to ignore what people say about you, the you they didn’t know and theorized about behind lit-up screens, of your relationship with Hansol, the two of you would still be together.

Hansol’s crouched on the ground, trying to stop himself from crying in the middle of the park where you had your second date, where he had kissed you for the first time after you slipped on an ice patch and fell flat on your ass.

You reach a hand out, as if to comfort him, but pause halfway through the action and pull your hand back to your body as quickly as if you were burned. You’re not sure if you should say anything else to him. “I just - I -” you start. “I can’t explain why,” you finish quietly. You swallow, and lower your gaze.

He looks up at you, sorrow deep in his eyes. “Just go,” he whispers with the broken beginnings of sobbing.

You turn on your heel, walking away normally at first, then quicker. You bring your palms up to your eyes, wiping away the tears trickling from them. You almost manage to hold it all in through the bus ride back home, head down and hands clasped, until a few droplets leave your eyes, and some kind stranger passes you a tissue. When you finally open the door to the apartment you’ve been sharing with Hansol for the past several months, you break down.

Tears running down your face, heartbreak strong enough to make you forget how to breathe, you lean against the door of your apartment, cuddling Hansol’s hoodie. You cry through the night, stopping briefly for ten minutes a time, before sobbing some more.

The next morning, skin and lips dried up, eyes sore, throat thick with mucus and tongue heavy in your mouth, you finally stop. There are no more tears you can cry. You’ve cried through the night, maybe getting two hours of sleep in total. You pick yourself off the floor on unsteady feet, fighting to get yourself to the kitchen where you can splash water in your face and rehydrate yourself.

After trying to pull yourself together in your kitchen, you collapse onto your bed, and the cycle repeats itself for the next four days.

On the fourth day, Hansol sends his manager to pick up his things. His manager goes from room to room, picking up his clothes and his toiletries and his most prized possessions, but you manage to hide the hoodie. The hoodie that you stole from him in those first budding weeks of your relationship and never gave back. The hoodie that you drenched in your tears.

Hansol’s manager glares at you on the way out, two rolling bags trailing behind him and a carry on strapped over his shoulders. You flinch under his gaze.

And then you get the first message, from Seungkwan.

How could you do this to him? He’s been nothing but good to you.

You don’t respond.

Twenty minutes later, he texts again.

Couldn’t you just be grateful for him? You’ve completely shattered his heart.

You, once more, don’t respond. By this point, you’ve sank your body into an overflowing bathtub, trying to drown your sorrows in Lush perfumed water.

When you get out, the messages have quintupled.

Seungkwan: I hope you’re proud of yourself.

He hasn’t stopped crying.

Joshua: I don’t know why you did it

You better have a better reason than “it’s not you, it’s me.”

He hasn’t got out of bed

We have to force him into a shower

To feed him

He’s legit gonna die and it’ll be your fault

Chan: In the park?? Really??? Pardon my French, but how much more of a bitch can you get?

Wonwoo: I know I should be supporting Hansol, but you’re also my friend.

Are you ok?

You look through the messages, considering whether you should answer them. You decide to go to bed, not wanting to deal with the rising pool of anxiety in your stomach.

You have a sleepless night, thinking about the message Wonwoo sent you. You want to call him and tell him that no, you aren’t ok, and you don’t think you’ll ever be ok, especially without Hansol by your side.

Calling : My Soulmate

“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable at the moment. Please leave a message after the beep.”

You hang up.

You decide that staying in your apartment all day will do you no good.

You get up and make breakfast for once. A glass of orange juice, half a cup of coffee and some toast with butter. You get into the shower, wash off your body and your hair for the first time since you broke up with Hansol. You put on jeans and a starched shirt, good, sensible clothes that can’t become PJs, and you step out of the door.

You’re not sure what you’re going to do. Maybe the movies? You heard that the newest Marvel movie just came out. Or maybe you should go to the quiet little bookshop hidden in the alleyway seven blocks down from your apartment? The only issue is that those are all places you shared with Hansol, and you don’t want to be anywhere near them. You don’t want to deal with all the nostalgia that comes with the area.

You make your decision in the elevator ride down your complex. Your fridge is empty, so you’ll go grocery shopping. Hansol never went grocery shopping with you, he was normally too busy working.

So you make your way to the cornerstore that’s been owned by the same couple for the last twenty years (you would know, you once struck up a conversation with them over proprietorship.) You scan through the close aisles for the things you absolutely need, but you know you’ll have to hop on the bus and go to one of the bigger grocery stores to get the remaining groceries.

When you step outside, it’s started raining. It seems the heavens themselves don’t believe in the lies you tell yourself to keep on going. It’s also at that moment that Wonwoo calls you back. You answer it, stepping under the awning above the store.

“… Hey.”

“Oh thank God, finally. I thought I’d never reach you, I’ve called you at least twelve times.”

“I didn’t hear my phone ring, sorry.”

“Are you ok?”

“Can I be honest?” you say bluntly.

“Shoot.”

“I’m not. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, it was only this morning that I got myself out of bed and washed my hair, I haven’t talked to anyone, I feel like shit, and opening my phone and seeing all of the texts roll in isn’t helping.” You pause. “I… Just wanna talk to someone.”

“Well then talk. I’ll always listen to you.”

You don’t know how to formulate what comes next. Where do you start with your journey of self-hatred and resentment? How do you explain that because you can’t be happy about yourself, you could never make Hansol happy? “You know how when me and Hansol started dating, you guys weren’t huge fans?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I guess I took that to heart. And with all the comments online, of all the fans who are angry that he’s no longer fully theirs, I couldn’t do it. I felt like I was living a lie. Who am I to decide that I am good enough for Hansol? The last relationship I had lasted two months before he broke up with me because I was too boring. Too clingy and too childlike. I felt worthless. But when I met Hansol, something clicked inside me. I had the courage to ask him out, even though I thought I was worthless. I thought to myself after that date: Here’s someone I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. Here’s someone who brings me limitless joy, who makes me laugh so hard that I cry. And then to know that the people closest to him didn’t support our relationship? That crushed me. I mean, I understand why, long-distance relationship with an idol and all, but it was so disappointing. Yet still, I could have dealt with that. Put on my big girl pants, so to speak, and pretended like I was fine. The straw that broke the camel’s back were the fans. How could they say such awful things about me? It wasn’t even confirmed! All because he spent more time out of Korea than in it! It was an internet theory that was going around, and somehow people still could write ‘she’s just an ugly bitch’ or ‘she probably pays him’ or ‘must be a slut.’ And some comments even asked for Hansol’s removal from the group! I just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t. I’m just- I’m so tired, Wonwoo.”

“Sweetie… I don’t know what to say. I wish I was there to hug you.”

“I’m not even angry. I’m just sad. So sad and tired. I’ve spent the last five days crying because I miss him so much. He really felt like my one and only, Wonwoo. I just -” At this point, your voice broke and silent tears started to make their way down your face. “I miss him so much, Wonwoo. But I can’t go back to him. I can’t go back, when I can’t even promise him that I’ll be ok. That I’m ok. That he can take care of me and expect me to do the same in return to him. How can I when I can’t even take care of myself? It’s not fair on him, Wonwoo.” You sniffle.

“I simultaneously want to shake out your stupidity, because Hansol doesn’t give a shit about any of that, and hug you and tell you you’re worth everything.” You hear him sigh over the line. You imagine he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m seriously considering boarding a flight to Chicago to be with you.”

Your heart sinks. “No! Please don’t! I don’t want to be more of a bother… People are actually gonna have a problem with me if you’re not present with the group… You guys have an album out in, like, a month? You can’t, Wonwoo. Just stay in Korea. I’ll be ok.” With that, you cut off his chances of dissuading you and hang up. You walk through the rain to your apartment, and ignore all of the calls and texts he sends you.

Within the month, the newest Seventeen song is out. The promotion’s going well, but the fans can tell something’s up. Hansol isn’t smiling as much, he seems so out of it (you would know, you’d been keeping up with their content, torturing yourself with the only way you can see his face.) On top of that, he avoids Wonwoo as much as he can (which is no easy feat, considering they’re in the same subunit.) And then the netizens broke out, slinging allegations upon allegations. Some say the company wasn’t doing a good job making sure everyone was rested, others wonder if something was up with his family. As for Hansol and Wonwoo’s relationship, they chalk it up to some brotherly disagreement, until the worst possible thing happens: pictures of you and Hansol together begin circulating, courtesy of a certain media outlet rhyming with “latch”.

Nothing too scandalous, but between the hand holding and the loving gaze captured in Hansol’s eyes, everyone can tell that you’re the person responsible for his change of personality, his heartbreak. And with your face very visible, netizens do some quick, terrifying recon work, find your Instagram page, and bombard you with hate. It’s the scariest thing to happen to you in a while, and you end up deleting your account completely, and shutting off your phone. Words like “whore” and “slut” and “two timing bitch” are thrown around like petty insults. One comment really stood out to you: “I should’ve known, you slut. You slept with Hansol-oppa, then with Wonwoo-oppa, and broke both their hearts! You should just go kill yourself now.”

You even consider changing your number, because somehow some of them managed to get ahold of that too, and have taken to calling you at all hours of the day to harass you.

Pledis sends you a spokesperson within two days of the news getting out: their plan is simple: say that you and Hansol were nothing but close friends, that nothing romantic had ever happened. Hopefully the netizens will be appeased enough to stop harassing you, and to stop their boycott of the comeback.

And so here you are, standing in Korea, outside the Pledis building, faced with flashing camera lights and dozens of mics pointed in your face, reporters screaming inches away from your nose, asking you if “it’s true” and Dispatch demanding that they interview you, taking pride in making an already shitty experience for you into an even worse one. In the Korean fed to you by the PR manager before this interview (or as you like to think of it, this interrogation), you tell the crowd that your relationship with Hansol had been purely platonic before turning around and entering the building, ignoring all cries for more detail and the barrage of flashes and bodies behind you.

There, you are ushered to the CEO’s office, up several levels and encased in glass which is promptly darkened upon your arrival. The CEO sits you down and folds his hands, reclining back in his black office chair with a forced, professional smile on his face.

“You’re a bit of a troublemaker, aren’t you?” he asks.

You smile uncomfortably back to him, before looking down into your lap, mouth turning down into a neutral line.

“Well, I’ll get straight to the point. I don’t want to see a repeat of Cube’s accident last year, nor do I want to kick Hansol out of the group. Dating was always an option put on the table for these idols, however the one condition was that it be kept under the rug. Out of the media’s eyes.” He stares at you the entire time he gives his speech, before handing you a document.

You look down at it. A non disclosure agreement.

“For your silence,” he says, smile not leaving his face. His point is made clear: Don’t tell anyone about your and Hansol’s relationship.

You slide the document in front of him. “I can promise you, I won’t breathe a word of this. I don’t need to sign a document to keep my mouth shut. This experience is awful enough that I wouldn’t want to publicize it. I can also assure you that I would never wish any sort of consequence on Hansol. I think you forget that I love him.”

“Loved him, you mean. I’ve heard everything from him.” The CEO motions towards the door with his hand. “Then if this conversation is over…”

You smile stiffly, then make an odd head-nod-bow. You reach the door, open it, and there sits Hansol in the waiting room near the CEO’s personal assistant.

Your world stops. There’s the man who you have an infinite amount of regrets over, the man who will forever hold the key to your heart and the hearth for your soul, the man who you’ve sobbed about into your pillow when the moon is high and the streets are dead. There he is, slouched in his chair, eyes blackened and reddened by sleepless nights spent crying, hair ruffled by anxious hands and clothes looking like they haven’t been changed in weeks, which is most likely true.

He looks up disheartenedly when the door opens, and sees you. At first, there’s a glimmer of something in his eyes, maybe hope or even love. But then the facade breaks, as if he remembers what you did to him, what you’re making him feel, and nothing but pain and heartbreak and a little bit of anger remains. He turns away, putting his back towards you, which in Hansol language, (a language you are essentially fluent in) means “Fuck off.”

You feel your heart drop into your already sinking stomach, and your hands start to shake as you rush out the door, not even pausing to say goodbye to the personal assistant, who was nothing but kind and accommodating to you. You want to leave this building, this country, and fly back to the safety of your home.

The journey from Pledis to your hotel is a blur, a part of your memory lost and never returned. You collapse onto your bed upon arrival, the one good thing about this trip is that you have an expensive hotel room with all the good stuff: wine, a fully functioning and free TV, a jacuzzi style tub, and a shower that could fit a ping-pong table inside of it. For the next three days, you’re holing yourself up in this bedroom and going through all of these luxuries in detail. Hopefully they’ll make you forget about the entire situation…

You make good of your promise. You soak in the bath while catching up on a show you’ve procrastinated on, then put on the provided bathrobe and flip through the channels while sitting on the soft mattress of the bed, trying to find something worthwhile, before something catches your attention.

It’s a channel in real time, filming a certain love of yours as he addresses the public.

“That girl and I, we are nothing but friends,” he commences. “We met a couple years ago, and kept in contact. I can assure you that nothing is going on between me and her, nothing ever will happen between the two of us, and I am by no means unhappy or less committed towards my job.” He keeps his message short and sweet and simple, then walks back into the building.

You feel the same way you did when you saw him earlier today. You want to curl up in a ball and cry once more, you want so desperately to be away from here, where everything and nothing remind you of him and his dreams of grandiose and prestige.

Suddenly, your phone rings. You turned it back on after landing in Korea, deciding that staying in contact with family and friends back home is worth the landslide of hateful texts and messages. You glance at the ID: It’s Wonwoo.

“…. Hey,” you say, answering the call. You lay on your back, feet hanging off the edge of the bed while you rub your eyes.

“Do you want to meet up with me? Maybe by the Han river?” he replies.

You decide it would be better to see someone than be alone at the moment. “Sure. I’ll text you when I’m near.”

“Ok, see you then.” Wonwoo hangs up.

You hover close to the water’s edge, your phone open to the conversation with Wonwoo. You’d sent him a message a couple minutes ago, and he had told you to wait for him.

“Boo!” He pops up behind you, poking you gently in the back.

You let out a scream of surprise, before turning around while clutching your chest. “You dick!”

You calm down, before pulling him into a hug. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He holds the bag filled with snacks away from his body, giving you a one armed hug back. “I missed you too. Let’s sit down over there.” He gestures towards a bench overlooking the river.

You move towards the bench, before sitting down heavily on the seat. Wonwoo slides in next to you.

He pulls out some drinks from the bag, giving you the one you prefer before breaking the seal on his. “How are you?” he tries to ease the awkward vibe surrounding the two of you.

“Can I be honest?” A parallel to the earlier conversation you had over the phone.

He nods.

“Terrible. Seeing Hansol did no good.”

“Is it rude if I say that I expected that?”

You let out a faint smile. “No.” You turn your gaze to the river, looking at the people kayaking and sailing, floundering around in the water. You can sense Wonwoo turning to look at you.

“I miss him. I really do.” You rest your head on his shoulder.

He wraps an arm around you, pressing his cheek into your hair. “It’ll be ok. Everything will work out in the end.”

A moment of silence passes, before he says: “I can finally give you that hug I promised you.”

You smile, eyes closed in solace. “Yeah.”

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just-another-fangirl-94 · 5 years

Text

Gorgeous

I've been MIA for a while with my writing and I apologize. I haven't had the time to really fulfill any requests. I hope this can hold some people over for a while. This is an AU Sugardaddy!Sebastian Stan x Female reader one shot I've been working on for a while. I hope you guys enjoy!!

Warnings: SMUT, Language

The First Meet

The sunlight was pouring into the window at the café you were sitting at, blinding you slightly. You held up your trembling hand to try to provide shade for your eyes. Maybe this was a terrible idea. Meeting a man on the internet, who claims to be a successful, rich, CEO, probably wasn’t the best decision you’ve ever made. What if he was actually a predator, seeking to take advantage of young, naive women. However, you didn’t feel like you had much of a choice. You were about to be homeless if you didn’t come up with three months of rent. If you didn’t come up with three grand in two weeks, you’d be forced to move back in with your abusive father. You were able to escape him about a year ago, but it wasn’t an easy task. Especially after he took out several loans under your name and failed to pay them. Because of that, your credit was destroyed. While your father thought you were at an office job, you were actually working as an exotic dancer, earning enough money to flee him and start your new life. But your new life didn’t go as expected. You lost your waitressing job and went broke six months after you moved to the city. You had heard about a sugar daddy website and thought it might help your situation.

After a few weeks of dodging weird men with strange fetishes, you received a very polite message from a man who refused to show his picture. But something about him pulled you in. He was charming, funny, witty, and well-mannered. After almost three weeks of texting and emails, you agreed to meet. Your nerves were starting to make you feel sick. Maybe you should just go before he arrived. This was a stupid idea anyway.

Just as you were about to grab your purse you look up to see a tall, handsome man with stunning blue eyes and dark hair.

“Y/N?” He asks.

There was no way that the universe was going to be this good to you. But then again, you felt like it did owe you for all the shit you’ve put up with over the past twenty nine years. “Y-yes that’s me.”

He smiled warmly at you as he sat down at your table. “It’s good to finally meet you. You’re even more stunning in person.”

You felt your face turn beat red as he complimented you. “Thank you.”

“Hey, you don’t have to be nervous. I already told you if you’re ever uncomfortable you can just say you want out.” He tries to reassure you.

“No!” You said a little too quickly. “I’m sorry. It’s just I wasn’t expecting to meet someone so…” You pause. “Attractive?” You mentally cursed yourself for saying that.

He laughs and shifts in his seat. “Well thank you gorgeous. I understand your concerns since I couldn’t share my picture. As I mentioned before, I’m well known in the area for doing business. It wouldn’t look good for me to have my face plastered on that website. Now why don’t we get to know each other a little better. I’ll order us some coffee. Sound good?”

You nod your head. “Sounds good.”

Three cups of coffee later, you felt so comforted by the man in front of you. You didn’t plan on it, but you poured your heart out to him. He kept pushing the subject. After you were done, you asked him why on earth he had to be on that website when he could have any woman he wanted on the street. His answer didn’t shock you too much. He wanted someone he could call after a long day at work for some mutual, consensual fun without any strings. And he would provide them with anything that they may need as a returned favor. He worked close to seventy-two hours a week and didn’t have time for a traditional relationship.

“I know that this is overwhelming Y/N. I can tell you’ve never done anything like this before. Just know that I promise to make you feel safe. Don’t be afraid to communicate with me, and if you want out at any time there will be no hard feelings. You don’t need to answer me now. I want you to think hard about this arrangement.” He says as he stands up and throws a fifty on the table. “Sleep on it tonight and text me whenever you’re ready. It was a pleasure meeting you Y/N.” He says before he turns and walks out of the café.

Your head was spinning. Everything about him was intoxicating. You couldn’t sleep at all that night. Your mind was on Sebastian the entire time. He was offering you so much the answer seemed simple. When morning rolled around, you picked up your phone and texted him two words. “I’m in.”

It didn’t take long for him to respond. “Let’s meet tomorrow at seven. I’ll send a car for you. Don’t worry about a thing. I’m going to take very good care of you.”

The First Time

His lips grazed your neck so gently, but it sent a jolt of electricity through your whole body. His hands smoothly ran down your dress, pulling the zipper down.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers in your ear as your dress falls to the floor. “Take those panties off for me and lay on the bed.”

Your heart was beating out of your chest as you did as he said. You sat on the bed and laid back, waiting for his next instruction.

“Now. Lift those knees up, and spread your legs for me.”

You had never felt this exposed and turned on at the same time. Your pussy was aching for attention as you laid there waiting for his next move. He kneeled on the bed and started kissing your breast, biting and sucking at your nipple.

“Oh god.” You moaned as he worked his hand on your other breast.

He continued torturing you slowly as he worked his way down the rest of your body. Finally, he licked your pussy in slow, soft circles.

“Sebastian!” You cried out.

“Mmm you’re so fucking sweet gorgeous.” He groaned before he started sucking and biting at your cunt more.

You rocked your hips against his face, the pleasure getting too much to handle. There was no way you were going to last. “Sebastian.” You whimper. “I- I’m gonna…AHH! Oh fuck!” You cried out as you came all over his face.

It didn’t slow him down any. He made sure he licked up every drop you gave him. Slowly he stood up from the bed, undressing himself. “You have no idea how sexy you look right now gorgeous.”

Your head was still spinning from the orgasm he gave you. No man had ever touched you so good before.

“Think you can give me another one gorgeous?”

You nod your head, unable to answer him properly.

“On your knees then.” He demanded.

You didn’t waste any time obeying his commands. The anticipation was killing you, but he didn’t make you wait long. You quivered as you felt his hands grip your waist roughly.

“You ready gorgeous?”

“Please.” You begged.

As the word left your mouth, you felt him push his tip into your core, slowly stretching you out.

“Ohhh fuck gorgeous, you feel like heaven.” He grunted as he thrusted into you at a steady pace.

“Sebastian! Oh god don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“You want more Y/N?”

“Yes! Fuck give me more please.”

His grip got tighter and he thrusted into you harder. “Mmmm that’s it gorgeous you take my cock so well.”

You dug your nails into his sheets as he fucked you from behind. It was getting harder to keep your hips arched as you got closer to your orgasm.

“Go on baby, let go. Cum for me sweetness, I’ve got you.”

You cried out as your orgasm hit you. The shockwaves shook your entire body as your cunt squeezed his cock. This triggered his own orgasm. Quickly he pulled out and came all over your back letting out a growl.

As you came down from you high, Sebastian went to the bathroom, grabbed a warm towel, and wiped your back and your sensitive core gently. “You feeling alright gorgeous?”

“Perfect.” You answered honestly.

He pulled the blanket over your body and tucked you in. “Need anything? Water?”

You shook your head no as you closed your eyes.

“Sleep well gorgeous.” He said as he got up and retreated to his own bedroom.

When you woke up, there was an envelope on the table next to you with a note. You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before you started reading. ‘Good morning gorgeous, I hope you slept well. I had to leave for work and I didn’t want to wake you. Thank you for the most amazing time last night. There is breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen, I arranged a ride for you whenever you’re ready to go home. Take your time. I’ll call you later this week. In the meantime I hope this holds you over.’ When you were done reading the note, you opened the envelope. Inside there was a check for six grand.

“Holy fucking shit.” You said aloud as you held the check in your hand. Not only had he given you enough to cover your rent, you had three grand left over to pay other bills. This arrangement was possibly the best thing to ever happen to you.

Complicated Feelings

You were entering the fourth month of your arrangement with Sebastian. The two of you met up roughly once or twice a week. He paid off your debt, paid your rent, took you on a few weekend getaways, and showered you with many expensive gifts. But it didn’t make you happy. It broke your heart every time he left you after sex. You desperately wanted more, but you knew you couldn’t have him.

Slowly you started making up excuses that you couldn’t meet up. But then you would cave in and fall into his bed again. It was starting to weigh heavy on your heart. And it didn’t go unnoticed by Sebastian. He noticed that you’ve been pulling away from him and he decided to confront you about it.

“Y/N I can tell you’re unhappy. Is there something I’m not giving you? Do you need more of an allowance? Please don’t be afraid to talk to me gorgeous. I want you to have everything you need.”

You burst into tears because he just didn’t understand. “No Sebastian. You already gave me too much. Way more than I ever deserve.” You sob.

“Now that’s not true beautiful. You deserve the world. I want you to know that.”

“I think we should stop our arrangement. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be what you want.”

“And what is it that I want that you can’t give me?”

“No strings attached.” You sniff. “I have fallen for you Sebastian. I can’t take any more money or gifts from you because I don’t want them. I can’t use you like this.”

He was clearly shocked by your confession. “Why would you fall for someone like me Y/N?”

“You’re so kind to me. No one has ever treated me as well as you do. I love when we can talk for hours about everything or nothing. You’re so hard working and dedicated. How could I not fall for you?”

He stayed silent as he took in your words. Your heart squeezed as you looked at him, tears not stopping for a second.

“I think I should go. I’m sorry for all of this. I hope you know I appreciate everything you have done for me.” You stand up, kiss his cheek, and head for the door.

You wandered around the city in the bitter cold aimlessly for hours. The cold was a good distraction from the pain you had in your heart. But after a while, you felt your body start to grow weary. If you didn’t get home soon, you would probably collapse in the middle of the street.

When you arrived at your apartment, Sebastian was at your door. He looked relieved when he saw you and rushed over to you. “Where have you been? I tried calling you a million times.”

“Oh I didn’t hear my phone go off.” You said as your teeth chattered.

“Jesus you’re going to get sick. Let’s get you inside.” He says as he grabs your keys and unlock the door. “Come on. Go take a hot shower and we’ll talk when you’re done okay?”

You were too cold to argue with him and did as he said. After sitting in the shower for fifteen minutes, you somehow found the strength to stand up and throw a towel over you. When you walked out of the bathroom, Sebastian had a cup of your favorite tea made.

“I was just about to come in to make sure you didn’t drown.” He teases.

“Sorry. It took me a while to warm up.” You say as you grab the cup. “What are you doing here?”

“We need to talk about what happened back at my place gorgeous.”

You blushed when your nickname slipped out of his mouth. It never failed to give you butterflies when he called you that. “I’m sorry I let this go on longer than I should have. I have felt like this for a while.” You sighed as you stared at the steaming tea in your hand.

He took the cup from you, placed it on the table, and took your hands into his. “Gorgeous I don’t want an apology. If anything, I should be sorry. I’m sorry I can’t be the man you deserve. I want you to know that I have fallen for you as well Y/N. These past four months have been the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

“Then why can’t we just be together?” You beg.

“I hardly see you as it is. Do you really want to be in a relationship like this? With a man who does nothing but work.”

“I love you Sebastian. I’ll take whatever time I can get if it means I can be yours. That’s more than enough for me.” Tears fell down your cheeks as you poured your heart out to him.

Gently, he wipes the fallen tears on your face. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“More than anything.”

He leans into give you a sweet, tender kiss. You happily return the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love you gorgeous.”

“I love you too.”

The First Fight

“You’re not listening to me Sebastian!” You yell at your stubborn boyfriend.

He sighed as he poured himself a drink. “Y/N I am listening to you. I know you want to get a job, but I don’t understand why you are working somewhere that clearly makes you unhappy.”

“I’m not unhappy.” You lie. You absolutely despised your job. “It’s just a little stressful right now that’s all. And it’s not like anywhere else will hire me.”

“You know you don’t have to settle for some job when I can take care of your bills.”

“Goddammit Sebastian I’m not your sugar baby anymore. I’m your girlfriend. When are you going to start treating me like it?” You cried as you grabbed your purse and made your way to the door.

“Hey! Y/N stop. Please don’t go let’s just talk.” He begs as he stands in front of the door. “Gorgeous please just help me understand what you want.”

You wipe away your tears and take a deep breath. “I know what I signed up for starting this relationship Sebastian. I get you need to work a lot and we don’t get too much time during the week together. I can’t just sit around and wait for you though. I need to make something of myself instead of just mooching off you. I know you’re well off, but I don’t want to feel like your sugar baby anymore. I want to earn my own things be able to pay for my own stuff too.”

“I didn’t know that’s how you felt.” He sighs. “You know I love you, right? I just want to give you the world, because I have nothing else to offer you.”

“I love you too, and that is not true. You give me so much Seb. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. But I need to work. I need to do this for myself.”

“Okay.” He says. “I respect that. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“We need to make a compromise though.”

“What kind of compromise?” You ask confused.

“I won’t nag you about your work life, but I want you to promise me you’ll look for something that you’ll really love. I spent too much of my life doing something I hated until I started my company. I know the toll it takes. Promise me that gorgeous?”

“I think that is a fair compromise.” You smile.

Happily Ever After

The soft breeze coming from your balcony roused you from your slumber. Your eyes fluttered open as you saw the sunrise over the horizon on the private beach. You gazed over at your fiancé who was still sleeping peacefully. Smiling, you cuddle up to him, laying your head on his bare chest. It was overwhelming how happy you were at this moment. Sebastian had been cutting back his work hours the past few months, which gave you more time to spend with him. He took the opportunity to take you away more often, spending blissful days together in exotic and new places. You had quit your awful job to help a friend organize a charity that enabled families to receive medical equipment for children with special needs. Sebastian was right, you needed to find something you would be passionate about, and you loved every minute of it.

He started to stir and he felt you cuddle to him. “Mmmm morning Mrs.”

You giggle as he pushes you on your back and places kisses on your neck. “I’m not Mrs. Stan yet.”

“I’m just practicing gorgeous.” He smiles as he pushes your legs open. “How did you sleep my love?”

You moan as you run your hands though his hair while admiring the beautiful new ring he gave you the night before. “Well after four orgasms, I tend to sleep very well.”

“How about four more then?” He asks as he massages your clit leisurely.

“Oooh baby I don’t know if my body can handle it.” You moan as you throw your head back.

“You’ve handled far more before gorgeous.” He smirks as he slides a finger into your heat.

You whimper as your rock your hips. “Fuck. Right there Seb.”

“So beautiful.” He says as he pushes his finger against you at a steady pace.

“More! Please I need more.” You beg. “I need your cock in me Seb please.”

“Well since you asked so nicely.” He positions his erection to your opening and thrusts in slowly.

“That’s it baby fuck me.”

He grunts as he pushes into you faster. “Like that gorgeous? Does my cock feel good?”

“So fucking good.” You groan as your run your nails up and down his back, leaving marks on him.

He continues to rut against you at a desperate pace, both of you craving for that high. You fall first, your climax hitting you hard. Your body convulsed under him as you came undone. It didn’t take long for him to follow, spilling every drop inside of you.

He held you tight as the two of you came down. You felt your eyes get heavy again and start to drift off. Sebastian was right with you.

He kissed your cheek and settled next to you. “Get some rest gorgeous. I owe you three more orgasms.”

“Looking forward to it.” You smile as you drift off.

#Sebastian stan #Sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #Sebastian stan au #imagines

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limitededitionsanderssidesblog · 6 years

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Speech Impediment - Chapter 6

Ships: Logicality, pining prinxiety, platonic dlamp

Summary: From one birthday to another, it’s now December and Virgil’s birthday is coming up. Roman, desperate to finally win Virgil’s hand, asks Dexter to help him plan the perfect gift. On top of helping his friends, finals are coming up and Dexter is getting lost in his studies. Stress builds up, and a phone call awaits him.

AO3 - Here

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7

Creative writing, English Literature, Calculus, Biology, Anatomy; finals were in three days, seventy-two hours. Five classes, five tests, two hours each, ten total hours of testing. He has approximately thirty hours to study given all accountable variables.

Over the past few days Dexter had practically lived in the library. Between tutoring lessons with Logan, where he and the rest of the gang would study together, and independent study, Dexter only ever left to go to class, eat, and sleep. His bodily fluids were practically composed entirely of caffeine at this point. This was his very first final as a college freshman, he needed to prove that it wasn’t a mistake to come here.

Dexter shook his head, ridding his mind of those thoughts, and brought his attention back to the paperwork before him. He was currently working on his anatomy study guide. Looking at the time on his cellphone he saw that it was past eight, the library would be closing in half an hour.

With a heavy sigh, Dexter closed his textbook, placed his work back in his bag, and got up to leave. There were only three other students still there besides himself, all looking wiped out from their studies as well.

The sun had surrendered to the moon long ago, leaving the world around him cold and dark, snow falling sleepily down to the earth from the heavens in a chilled kiss. Yep, that was overly descriptive, he must be a writer. The breeze nipped at his heels as he walked back to his dorm. A student was here or there, but most all were gone from the campus.

A fifteen minute walk brought him back to the tall, brick building. Once inside, Dexter shook off the snow that had accumulated on him. Dexter nodded to the dorm manager as he went by, heading up the flights to his room. He planned to simply shower, snack, then go to sleep, but once he saw Roman on his doorstep he knew that wouldn’t be the case.

Hearing footsteps, Roman looked up hopefully, then stood when he saw who it was.

“Dex! ‘Bout time you got here. What the heck were you doing making me wait so long?”

“Huh? What don’t you mean?”

“I sent you a text dude!”

“Yes you did, I-” Sure enough the text was there, or rather several texts were.

Roman: Hey Dex meet me at you’re room in an hour Roman: im here Roman: Hellooooo? Roman: dude what the duck? where you at? Roman: **fuck autocorrect

“Resent me, I didn’t have my phone on silent.” Dexter apologized, scooting to the door to unlock it. “Why did you call Patton?”

“He’s staying at Lo’s tonight.” Roman replied simply, following Dexter in and making himself at home, just as they always did. Dexter had long since given up on trying to stop the others from taking his food from the mini fridge. Still, it stung to watch Roman take his favorite lemon yogurt.

“Oh.” Dexter said quietly, trying not to think to hard about what that meant. “So what don’t you want?”

Thus a flip was switched. Roman lost his confident composure, no longer sitting tall, instead he curled in on himself and awkward ate yogurt in a lame attempt to hide his blush. If Dexter had to take an educated guess, it probably had something to do with Virgil.

“Well uh- Virgil’s birthday is uh- in a few days and I’d like to um, I’d like t-to ask him o-out. Could you help me?”

Seeing Roman stutter and blush like a high school boy was the cutest thing ever. Only seeing Virge do the same would be better, and Dexter planned for that to happen.

“Well of course not.” Dexter told him, “But why me? Wouldn’t it be better to ask someone without experience? Logan and Patton wouldn’t be better.”

“Are you kidding? Logan may have been the one to ask Patton out, but he sucks at romance, and Patton... well he isn’t exactly helpful when it comes to wooing someone. Besides, I saw how amazing you are at gift giving from the heart, and you’re the second most creative here outside Virgil and I.”

“If you mean creative by not writing gory horror and suspense then sure.” Deceit mumbled under his breath as he looked through his messy desk for a blank sheet of paper and a pencil. Finding one he began to write a list of every idea he could think of and a list of what they’d need for each one. Once complete he handed it over to Roman for him to chose what to do.

He read through it carefully, mulling over the pros and cons of each suggestion. It was a good few minutes before he looked up with his final decision.

“Number four.” He said with a grin.

Four. The scavenger hunt. Roman and Dexter would have to work together to take Virgil on a hunt, having clues leading him to the undecided final destination.

“So where aren’t you going to have him meet you?”

Roman smiled warmly, as if he was reliving the sweetest memory he ever made. Perhaps it was.

“Where we first met.”

Dexter bolted from his classes to the parking lot where he’d be meeting Roman to help him shop for materials. Careful not to slip as he went. If they were fast, he’d be able to make it in time for tutoring.

Shopping took longer than thought due to traffic caused by an accident on the road. Stupid black ice. Now they were both running late for tutoring session with Logan. When they had gotten there, Patton and Virgil were already at work, asking Logan questions for different subjects he could help with. They sat down and began to work to, saying nothing of their plans while Virgil was there.

Dexter wasn’t able to get as much done during tutoring because of their lack of time, but now he had to go help Roman with the planning and getting Logan and Patton to help them, without the emo present.

By the time he got back to the library after the planning session he had a little over and hour to study before it closes.

When he had finally arrived at his dorm after all that it was nearing ten o’clock. Dexter had to stop at a nearby fast food place to grab an unhealthy dinner since the dorm kitchen was closed. This time Patton was there in their dorm, already preparing for bed. Exhausted, Dexter decided to skip dinner, putting his take out in the fridge and crawling into bed as well.

This went on over the next few days, back and forth between his studies, school, and assisting Roman. Now Dexter had to include helping Roman with his already overflowing workload. He was falling behind, which was cutting into his sleep schedule, which was messing with his productivity. He was happy to help Roman, but he wished he had asked him before finals week.

Even with all the stress, he had managed to make it work. He had just finished his last day of finals, and was rewarding himself with a nap. Other than his occasional spacing out, interruptive thoughts, and tired brain, Dexter thinks he did alright. Definitely didn’t fail any of them, but definitely didn’t ace them either. Ah puns, Patton’s rubbing off on him, Logan wouldn’t be pleased.

After tomorrow he’d finally be able to relax and hibernate until the next semester.

At eleven am the next day, Logan delivered the note to send Virgil on the hunt. According to his text in the group chat, it took a while for Virgil agree to going on this hunt.

The first clue was in Patton and Dexter’s dorm, specifically the fridge he always raided for soda. A little doodle of a fridge and lemonade ginger ale led him there. Once he arrive, Patton was there to give him the next clue.

The second was at the coffee shop where Dexter first told them about his writing. Hinted at by the drawing of a coffee cup, a notebook, and a snake. When he arrived, Dexter was sitting in the booth, a cup off coffee and a note for Virgil.

The third clue was a picture of a ticket booth and a theater. With an annoyed groan, Virgil left to go after the next clue. Once he was gone Dexter left to help with the final step.

The fourth clue was a giant red, paper sign taped over the ticket booth sign on the side of the school theater. On the giant sign were the words: Go Where We First Met - R, accompanied with the drawings of a desk and a chair, and musical notes. Virgil smiled when he saw those words, because he knew that this was such a Roman kind of thing to do for his twentieth birthday.

He knew exactly where to go next from there. Heading the building right next to the theater, Virgil walked up to the floor where the drama room was. When he entered, he was slightly disappointed to find it empty. But in the center of the room was a lone laptop with a CD right next to it and a note that said “Play Me”.

Doing as the note said, he played the video and on came the song they had met to. American Idiot. As the song played on, bold letters came on the screen, detailing their story, as if he didn’t already now it.

They had met during Virgil’s audition to play in the band for the American Idiot Musical. The theater was busy that day, so auditions were held in the Drama room.

Roman had been there to pick up the materials he had forgotten after class.

And that’s where he saw him.

Virgil hadn’t noticed him watching, too entranced in the song. But he did notice when a buffoon tripped over a chair and interrupted his audition.

Virgil chuckled when he read those words, remembering when that happened. He had sworn that he’d failed the audition because of a clumsy stranger. And a little more than pissed.

Virgil Black got the part and was sent to rehearsal four days a week. It was there that he got to know Roman Sanchez.

What started as a silly rivalry soon turned to an awkward friendship. Which then turned to the friendship of a lifetime.

But as time went on, and the two entered into their second year of college, Roman’s feelings began to change. He wanted something more.

Virgil’s breath got caught in his throat. His heart began to beat faster.

But Virgil seemed content with what they had and denied any attempts by Roman.

Roman could have given up and move on, but he wanted this to much to do so.

And I still do.

Will you go out with me, Virgil?

Virgil was in tears as he heard the song fade away, leaving him in silence, staring at a blank screen.

“Will you?” Roman’s voice sounded behind him.

Virgil whipped around to see Roman walking in from the teacher’s office. Having been hiding there the entire time until his cue. Virgil breathed heavily as he hastily rubbed at his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he had been crying.

“Couldn’t you have asked me like a normal person?” He bit back harshly, but Roman new he was simply embarrassed.

“Would you have said yes?” He asked him, walking over slowly.

“Yes!” He shouted, still hiding his face in his hands, unable to stop the tears. “Princey I thought you were just kidding this entire time, I knew that you had a long history of dating guys so I thought you weren’t being serious.”

“That was back in high school.” He told him softly, kneeling down to his height, gently taking Virgil’s hands from his face. “I’ve never been more serious about anyone.” Virgil looked up at him slowly, eyes puffy and red. Roman thought it was absolutely adorable. “Virgil Black, will you go out with me?”

“Of course, stupid.” He said back, another round of tears falling, but he wasn’t the only one, as Roman began to cry as well.

Dexter watched from the doorway, the rest in tow with him. They all silently cheered for their two friends, happy that their dumb tension was finally relieved.

“It’s about time.” Logan stated, leaning against the hallway wall, not needing to spy on them to know what happened.

“This was a really good idea, Dee.” Patton said to him gratefully, tears were also in his eyes as he watched from the doorway.

“Nope, I’m not glad they-” suddenly the buzzing of his cell in his back pocket stopped that train of thought. Good thing Dexter had made sure they put all of their phones on vibrate as to not disturb the new couple.

Pulling out his phone he felt his hand go limp once he saw the Caller ID. The device fell from his fingers in what felt like slow motion. The sound of the crash alerted everyone around them. Pat and Lo were there first to ask him what was wrong, Roman and Virgil following a second after, their moment now forgotten.

They all asked what was the matter, concern washing over them as he didn’t say anything. However, they all went silent once they heard the fake sweet voice of his mother leaving a message on his phone.

“Hello Dexter, It’s your mother. I called to let you know that your Father, sister, and I will be visiting your campus before the start of the next to talk with all your professors. And of course to see you, haha. Please prepare for our arrival. Also, don’t trouble yourself with visiting us for Christmas, were sure you’d like to enjoy your break by yourself as you do with everything else. See you soon.”

The line went dead, the buzzing the only sound being made. The others looked to each other in confusion and concern. Dexter still said nothing. Picking up his phone he walked away, ignoring the calls directed at him from his friends.

Dexter didn’t mean to interrupt the moment or kill the mood, but he had to leave. He could allow his negativity to affect the rest of them.

His parents were always skeptical of him becoming a writer and tried to discourage him from doing so. It wasn’t because they weren’t sure he’d be successful, even they could see his talent for it, but rather because they were scared of his mind’s creation. His parents have always been frightened of the things he enjoyed, of the things he’d imagine, of him. They were worried that his writing would influence others to be like him, that they’d no longer be able to keep his existence in the dark.

But when Dexter came here, it was because he convinced them that he’d only use his skills to write non-fiction. He’d lied about it, but it was the only way to gain their support. However, if he failed a single class, or if they got a word from his professors about his writing, they’d take him out of school and he’d be forced to work in his dad’s shop.

In the back, stacking and unloading, hidden from the world so that no one could see the monster they had brought into the world.

Gosh I once again was getting emotional over my own freaking story. Love Prinxiety.

Y’all are going to be meeting Dexter’s parents soon, to be warned, they’re cynical assholes.

Tag List:

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#sanders sides #prinxiety #princiety #logicality #platonic dlamp #deceit sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides fic #speech impediment #thomas sanders

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