#he also regularly requests that i 'take care of him' (his words) when mom has to leave before dad is home | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yesimwriting · 3 years

Note

Would you write a Kaz Brekker request where the reader is a bookworm and a crow and basically Kaz asks the reader to read to him as his way of apologizing after a argument that was his fault?

it a/n i did something kinda similar in a 'promise of rain' blurb,, but this concept is so cute to me:)) love it sm i moved it up my request cue lol

also IM IN COLLEGE NOW!! WHAT?? AND IVE BEEN TO A PARTY! AND IM JOINING A SORORITY AND I DID DRAMA AUDITIONS AND AHH !! SO DIFFERENT! I MISS MY MOM AND SISTER AND DOG AND EVEN MY DAD BUT IM HAPPY HERE!!

also im a little worried this might not portray kaz superrrrr accurately bc it's been awhile so just let me know,, feedback leads to improvement:)) also kinda set this up for a part 2 bc...well youll see

They've always said a lot of things about him, and I've always heard them. But I've never quite believed them. Sure, I get why the dark things that have flourished in the poisoned soil that is Ketterdam consider Kaz Brekker the darkest thing of all. I understand the nickname 'Dirtyhands' for the gloved criminal who has fooled each crime boss at least once. I understand each terrible thing they've said about him.

But I've never agreed with them. I've never even considered agreeing with them. Until today.

The thought that maybe everything people say about him is correct in a simple context struck me worse than the silence after our argument. It made me feel like both a fool and hypocrite. Kaz and I have had our fair share of spats over the relatively short time we've known each other, but never like this. Never so badly he stormed out of the room before I could. I squeeze the book in my lap even harder, desperate to focus on the words on the pages.

You didn't hurt him. He walked away because he decided you weren't worth the cost of his expensive time. I repeat those thoughts in my mind over and over again, letting them bitter me further. It's a lot easier to be mad than hurt. A lot easier to fuel your pain than try to understand your mistakes. Besides, tiredness is already dredging around in my chest and if I don't calm down a little I won't be able to fall asleep.

I had escalated the fight more than I should have. Knowing Kaz is like performing in a tightrope act. One must always be aware of where they're going. Watching what's in front of them without ever thinking too much about what's beneath or behind them. Today though, when I needed my balance most I chose to fall. I chose to dive, and apparently there was no net.

"Oh, you're doing that thing."

I roll my eyes at Jesper's voice as I fight down a yawn. I wipe my face with the back of my palm before turning. The burning behind my eyes never resulted in full tears, but I feel better after doing so. "What thing?"

"That terribly noble thing where you find it in yourself to take full blame for every single conflict you and boss man fall into." The slight humor in his voice is enough for me to roll my eyes again. "Between you and me, I'm sure the reason he's so angry now is because you didn't do that for once."

I press my lips together as my chin angles itself upwards slightly. "I never do that." He raises an eyebrow. The slight sympathy that colors the look is more offensive than his accusation. "If I pick and choose my battles, it's for good reason."

"Clearly."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs once before further entering my room. I say nothing when he sits at the foot of my bed. "Oh, you know," Jesper stretches back casually, resting his back against the wall and extending his legs, "You and Kaz--Kaz and you."

Has he been drinking? Perhaps he's not here because of my unusual absence from downstairs after my fight with Kaz but because he's already too tipsy to think right. "What?"

At my confused look he grins, flashing all of his teeth with an arrogance that outshines the whiteness of them. He taps the still open book in my lap. "Let me put it in terms you'll understand." Jesper sits up a little further, amusement clear in his features. "You two make a shameful Elizabeth and Darcy--"

"Oh, shut up," I groan, glaring at him, "This isn't Pride and Prejudice. And Kaz and I," Jesper's smugness returns when I can't quite think of what I want to say, "We're barely friends--we're barely anything, let alone what you're implying."

Jesper pulls his legs up and shoves me gently. "Dearest, y/n," he ignores my glare, "You should know better than anyone that 'barely friends, barely anything' with Kaz is more than it is with anyone else?"

"That doesn't mea--"

"You two say goodnight to each other." Once. Kaz and I said good night to each other in front of Jesper once. How dare he assume it happens regularly? He's right, but that doesn't mean I'm okay with it. "You play cards with him. Not for money, not for skill--"

"It's for practice." The look Jesper gives me is enough to tell me that my defense didn't land.

Damn him for ever finding Kaz and I on one of those strange nights. One of those nights in which he lurks at the stairwell...the one that divides my room and his attic. One of those nights in which it feels like he's a phantom and I'm the only one that can really see him. A night in which we both silently find each other.

I couldn't quite believe it the first time it happened. I'm not exactly a Crow--I don't feel enough a connection to the Dregs to join them without some kind of guarantee--but I was needed for some obscure job. but I was needed for some obscure job. The Crows needed an insider who could blend into high society, and I needed a place to stay away from my father.

It worked. I worked. And with each passing day I found myself enjoying the Crows more and more. That's why I stayed. That's why I started checking the stairwell practically every night, a set of playing cards in my hand.

The first time had been awkward. I couldn't sleep and my room felt too quiet, but the rambunctious club felt too loud and a little unsafe considering the hour. So I settled for the only space in between. When Kaz found me sitting on the steps and playing a solitary card game I had been so stunned by embarrassment I just offered to deal him in. I had been more shocked when he silently accepted my offer.

"Practice?" Jesper repeats. "You were laughing, I heard you."

"That was one time--how do you know we didn't just happen to play cards together the one time you saw it?"

"Because you laughed about a play you considered 'predictable'."

Sighing, I sit up a little straighter. "I'm not having this conversation. Occasionally saying 'goodnight' to someone who lives in the same space I live in and sometimes playing cards with said person because we both happen to be up at a certain time doesn't mean anything."

"And the way he looked at the contact that was flirting with you?"

Oh...this conversation again. "For the last time, the contact wasn't flirting with me. We had to dance to blend in and when he leaned towards me to whisper in my ear...it was to tell me the intel Kaz just had to have."

"And when he tucked that strand of hair behind your ear?"

"He just wanted to sell our cove--"

"Y/n, he kissed your cheek and I'm fairly certain he would have kissed you if Kaz and I hadn't made it to the corridor at that second."

Why is everyone so obsessed with what would have never happened? The contact had been attractive, tall with fair eyes and hair. But it's not like I feel anything for him, nor would I have been so foolish during a job. A fact that Kaz refuses to believe. I'm tired of this argument...I'm just tired. This job required me to start getting ready early in the morning and lasted long into the night.

"I wouldn't have kissed him and even if I had, the fact that Kaz is so mad about feels...sexist." A stupid argument, considering that Kaz couldn't care less if the person he's working with is female, male, or anything in between because the only thing he cares about is profit. "It's a stupid thing to be mad about, but you hit on anything with a pulse at any time and--"

"I resent that--"

"For the first two weeks I was here I thought you might've been a prostitute."

I can feel him holding in a laugh. "Did you at least think I was a good prostitute?" When I glare again, he finally actually laughs. "Not the point--got it."

"Then what is the point? You're bored and obsessed with gossip so now you're shaking me for information you don't need."

"The point is you're oblivious." Rude...I move my leg in a weak attempt to push him off my bed. Jesper catches my ankle easily, ignoring my attempt at a fight. "You thought the contact was only doing his job and you don't know the real reason that Kaz blew up at you for the first time the way he blows up at everyone."

"Okay, well since you know everything, tell me why he's mad."

He lets out a sigh like he can't believe I even needed to ask that. "It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy."

...Maybe he is drunk? "Don't be so cryptic. I don't like you enough to put up with that."

Jesper half-sighs again before pushing himself off my bed. "I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that."

"Asshole," I mumble instinctually as he walks towards my door. "Are you not telling me because I tried to push you off the bed?"

He turns when he reaches my door in order to lean against my door frame. "It's not not because of that." I should throw my book at his head. "In all seriousness, think about it. If you don't you'll either kill each other or kill me."

Ugh...he's so confusing. This time, I let him go. He leaves he door open, which is beyond annoying. I stand up to close it, promising myself I will focus on my book the second it's in my hands again. As I walk back towards my bed, my eyes land on the deck of cards on my nightstand.

Does it send a signal I don't want to send if I don't go the stairwell tonight? Do I want to send a signal? I don't know...actually, the only thing I know is that I don't want to think about this a second longer. I don't ease as I read, but my eyelids become heavier with each word they cross. I feel the weight of them as my focus slips, farther and farther away until I can no longer focus. When my eyes fall shut I can't bring myself to think or force them open.

I notice my surprised before I register that I've just woken up. Falling asleep feels so far and yet the crick in my neck confirms the obvious. Rubbing the eyes with the back of my hand, I push my book from my lap and sit up. The only indication of how much time has passed is how much my bedside candle has melted.

How long have I been asleep? How did I manage to fall asleep? I thought I was too mad at Kaz to manage anything but pouting in my room. I hadn't even decided if I wanted to talk to him.

I stand even though I haven't decided anything. I should at least change if I want to go to bed. But is leaving this alone for even longer a bad idea? I think Jesper thought so...though my conversation with him is far from clear. It's not the best look that the first time you let him pick a fight with you happens to be about some guy. I'm going to pretend I think you're smart enough to piece things together from that. What does he want me to do with that?

Maybe he was partially intoxicated and felt the need to play the role of a good friend. Or maybe this is his idea of a joke.

Whatever--regardless of Jesper, I have a choice to make. A tiny part of me hopes it's insignificant, but I know Kaz enough to know that nothing is insignificant to him. He holds onto things the way he holds onto his kruge. Perhaps I'll seek out Inej, she seems to be the best at rationalizing. Though she might be asleep by now, or on a job or...I don't even know.

How late is it? Is it late enough to be one of the few hours Kaz claims to reserve for sleep? Maybe my bad luck is still around and he's already in bed for once. Does that mean his anger will extend to tomorrow?

I shouldn't care. It's not like I'm in the wrong. Did I escalate things? Maybe a little...but I won't apologize for defending myself. Even though that makes everything a little easier. I feel stuck, like in some kind of place of half sleep. A single knock at my door is enough to make me want to jump. I rub my eyes a little more firmly in hopes of waking up more before someone sees me.

I approach the door without worry. Maybe it's not as late as I assumed. Or maybe it's really early? I open the door while still fighting against my slight disorientation. I'm so focused on acting normal, I almost don’t register the person standing at my door.

I don’t know who I expected, or what--maybe Jesper, much more tipsy than he was before, slumped against the doorframe, only knocking because he’s too tired to push the door open. Maybe even Inej, on her way here to deliver some kind of job or notice of dismissal. But it’s nothing I could expect. It’s...Kaz.

The Dirtyhands stands at my door, expression as hard as ever yet something behind his eyes that burns the sleep away from me. “Uh--hi.” I bite my tongue to avoid cringing at that very awkward beginning. “Are you here to kick me out yourself?” The only response I get is the slightest shift of his gaze off of my face. “No? Well then I think I’m going to bed. It’s late.”

My tone and words are clear. Get out of my doorway, I’m in no mood to go back to arguing. When he still doesn’t say anything, I’m emboldened by my nerves. I push the door between us without breaking eye contact.

Before the wood can meet the doorframe, he moves his cane, wedging it between us. “Y/n.” I don’t understand the way he says my name, but I’m certain he’s never said it like that. “I...” When he’s not prompted by the uncomfortableness of silence, I raise an eyebrow, my grip on the door tightening. “What I said shouldn’t have been said.” Wait--is he admitting fault? I’m so thrown I almost melt entirely. “Not to you.”

The addition leaves him so lowly a part of me wonders if I’ve imagined it. I’m so thrown by it I don’t even think to reply until a long second has passed. “You seemed to believe the opposite a few hours ago.”

His lips press together for a moment. “You didn’t ask me to play cards tonight.” He took that as intentional? At least that got me some kind of apology? I keep my mouth shut, greed making me want more information. I guess he must sense my silent tugging because he head inclines slightly. “Don’t push.”

I fight down a grin. “Push what?” His only response to stiffen further. “I’m going to tell you something as a peace offering.” That seems to intrigue him in some way. I can’t tell if it’s a good kind of interested, but I note the slight raise of his eyebrows and his intentional silence. “I didn’t chose not to ask you to play cards.” He gives me no indication of anything, which is fair...considering my vagueness. “I was mad, obviously, and in the middle of deciding on a course of action...and then I fell asleep.”

A long pause of silence. “You fell asleep?”

I’m not sure if his incredulous tone should offend me or not. If I wanted to lie, I’d like to think he knows me well enough to know that I’d have thought of a better excuse than that. Or at least a less embarrassing one. “Yes, it’s not that difficult to believe. Today had been long and all I wanted to do was read, but then Jesper came in to say the oddest things and then leave me to...”

Oh--oh. I guess there’s a reason people say to ‘sleep on’ something. Because now, actively remembering Jesper’s words for the first time since I fell asleep...I understand what Jesper was implying in the oddest way possible. He meant that Kaz and I...that perhaps there is a Kaz and I in a context that’s more than just grammatical. Wow. I really had to realize this with Kaz right in front of me.

My face feels warmer than it did before, an irrational bout of anxiety forcing me to consider that me might be able to read impossible, embarrassing thoughts from my expression alone.

“What did Jesper say?” I’m too lost in my own spiral of confusion and panic and some feeling I can’t recognize to register how Kaz asks his question. There’s an edge to it, an odd one, but that could easily just be Kaz.

This is most definitely the last conversation we need to be having. I’m still mad at him for his earlier dramatics. So I just shake my head, feigning an exhaustion I could lose myself in. “Nothing and everything all at once.” I resist the urge to rub my eyes again. “I’m pretty sure he was drinking, and I wasn’t really listening. I was just trying to read.”

Kaz’s expression hardens briefly as he takes in my words, and then he exhales, nodding once with the breath. “What were you reading?”

My lips part instinctually, ready to spew off details about the latest novel that’s captured my attention. But before I can let myself take off, the reality of the situation strikes me directly in the chest. This is not Nina, or Inej, or even Jesper after what he considers a ‘good night’. This is Kaz Brekker, the man believed to not have a soul. I’ve spoken to him before about casual things, though most of the nights in which we end up playing cards or just sitting near each other are spent in silence. But he’s never prompted me before. Not in the one topic he knows is guaranteed to turn me into an overenthusiastic, gushing fountain of poor summaries and character analysis.

I guess this is his peace offering. This shouldn’t warm the way it does. He was still unbelievably dramatic and treated me like I’m some kind of unreliable fool. “It’s late, and you know how I can be. I’d hate to keep you for nothing more than a poor summary and honestly, an embarrassing rant about plot or characters, because there’s just nothing as frustrating as when two people so clearly care about each other and both are too stubborn and oblivious to acknowledge it.”

Kaz’s eyebrows draw together just enough for me to be able to make out a shift of expression in the poor light. Perhaps his lingering irritation is preparing to rear its ugly head. The corner of his mouth seems to threaten to tilt upwards as Kaz angles his head to the side slightly. “I can’t imagine that position.”

No kidding. I bite my tongue to keep the sarcastic comment and awkward laugh that would sure follow it away. “Who can? That’s like half the point of reading.”

How can interaction feel so over and just at its beginning all at once? I press my lips together to avoid filling the silence with things I’d no doubt instantly regret. It’s easy to be mad at Kaz in the moment. Too easy. But to stay mad at him when his temper has passed and he returns with some kind of begrudging and admittedly awkward and uncertain truce is another task entirely.

“I’ve never understood your attachment to written words.”

“It’s not about understanding, it’s about everything else.”

“And you say I’m cryptic.” Is he...kinda almost joking? I straighten my spine, too tired to fight and too wounded to forgive. “There’s understanding in everything, nothing can survive on sentiment alone.”

“If you read the way I did, you’d understand.”

His lips press together as his expression remains unwavering in its hardness. “Read to me.”

...Interacting with Kaz in any way often leaves me feeling like I’m wandering through unknown territory. But this, this is undeniably different. So different I can’t even think of a way to react. I watch his expression as cautiously as possible. He’s purely reserved, no distinction from the look he wears during business propositions. Except there’s a tightness I can’t quite understand.

Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fight anymore. Maybe it’s because exhaustion is leaving me partially delirious. Or maybe it’s the weird feeling in my chest that I can’t quite place. That I don’t want to place. “Okay.” I shift carefully. “If for no other reason then to prove you wrong.”

Never did I think I’d end up in the position of sitting in my bed, book in hand, with Kaz Brekker sitting next to me. But here we are. I’m so tired, I almost let out a nervous laugh when he first walked in. So brooding and tall, gripping the head of his head cane as he sits at the foot of my bed, on my pastel quilt.

I’m glad for the excuse to keep my gaze away from him and on the words in front of me. I read out loud, feeling more and more comfortable with each page I finish. But as my inhibitions slip away, so dos my hold on consciousness. My eyelids seem to grow heavier with each word that I read.

“You’re falling asleep.”

I straighten my spine on instinct. “Am not.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to deny something so simple.

“You’re impossible.”

From him, that statement is laugh worthy. “I’m impossible? Do you not remember earlier today?”

From the way his jaw locks, I realize that he’s in no mood to be light about this topic. I don’t understand why. It’s not like I’m the one that wronged him. “I remember your lack of focus.”

Keeping my hands at my side to avoid rubbing my eyes, I frown. “If you want to have this argument again, fine. Jesper is more ‘distracted’ than me half the time and you’re much more lenient on him. It’s not like I was flirting with someone or gambling or doing anything but having a two second conversation. One that I needed to have to get information that you wanted.”

The last time we fought, I had more energy to restrain myself. This could be atomic. I hold my breath, waiting for Kaz’s retaliation. He exhales, eyes not meeting mine. “Arguing with you when you’re present is exhausting enough. It’s not worth it when you’re half asleep.”

This angers me further. I hate that he’s right. “I’m not half asleep.” He leaves it at that. I glare even harder at him, slumping further into my bed. “But for the sake of argument, I’ll drop it. Something you’re incapable of doing.”

At that, his eyes meet mine. I try to hold his gaze, but the harder I think about not seeming tired the more exhaustion slips in. A yawn escapes me before he looks away. Great. “I know when to lie in the grass in wait.”

Rolling my eyes, I shift back slightly. He’s incapable of being less dramatic than this. Still, I can’t imagine the effort it’s taking on his part to not start an argument. Maybe this is why Jesper spent so long implying that there may be a Kaz and I in any capacity beyond a vague kind of friendship. “I’ll admit you’re tactful.”

“Resourceful people recognize that trait in other people.”

Blinking twice, I lower my book slightly. Am I truly exhausted, or did he just compliment me in a way? “Careful, I may start to think you find me tolerable.”

“Let’s not exaggerate.” Okay, now I know I’m exhausted because I think he might have just attempted a joke. Rolling my eyes, I decide not to acknowledge this lightness in fear that I’ll scare it away. “Y/n?”

I press my lips together, worried about the destruction of our peace. “Yes?”

“What did Jesper say to you? Earlier?” I pause, slightly unsure why we’re moving backwards.

We’re in a decent place now, and I’d hate to ruin it. I’m too half asleep to lie eloquently. And it’s not like he’s an easily convinced man. “Oh, he said it so cryptically it took me longer than it should have to understand. And it didn’t help that it was something so...well, you might find it funny. As funny as you find anything, anyways.” Wow...I’ve spent such a long time talking. Rubbing the back of my eyes, I avoid his gaze. Exhaustion and awkwardness mix in my stomach oddly. “It seemed like he was trying to imply that you and I...me and you...” Why is this a difficult thing to say? It’s not like I was implying it and Jesper’s known for his oddness. “I think Jesper was implying that there was a you and I, or at least that there could be.” I’m too lost in a haze of almost sleep to watch his reaction. I let my head rest against my headboard even further. “Isn’t that odd?”

He’s quiet for a long second, and then he finally speaks again. “Odd, even for Jesper.” The response doesn’t satiate me...what’s that about? I exhale, deciding that feeling is tomorrow’s problem. When I blink, I decide to let my eyes stay closed. Just for a moment. The sound of something shifting is what makes my eyes squint open. Kaz is standing, his expression unreadable as he straightens. “Goodnight, y/n.”

At that, I sit up slightly, ignoring the exhaustion behind my eyes. “I haven’t finished the chapter.”

“You’ve convinced me of enough.” A concession? How exhausted do I seem? My lips press together as I think of my next argument. Before I can get it out, Kaz leans forward. He grabs the quilt at the end of my bed and tosses it onto my legs casually. “Goodnight, y/n.” The meaning of his repetition is clear. His word is final.

I find enough energy to manage a glare, but I pull the quilt over my legs anyways. “Goodnight, Kaz.”

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone imagines #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows show #shadow and bone show #six of crows netflix

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 3 years

Text

my mom loves you

Haechan x Reader

summary: Haechan’s family loves you almost (maybe more) than he does and he loves it (maybe first I love yous too? can be read as that I guess)

word count: ~1.3k

A/N: Reader is gender neutral (I think but please let me know if I made any mistakes) Thank you for reading, requests are open!

Haechan was right on the brink of falling asleep when he felt your phone suddenly start to buzz and your fingers stopped combing through his hair. He whined at the interruption and groaned when he felt you leave the couch, leaving him to cuddle himself to sleep. But how was he supposed to sleep now that you were gone? You had been putting him to sleep with your comforting actions and overall peaceful presence, but now that was gone.

He rolled over angrily, mad that you had left him right as he was about to fall asleep. Who was calling that was so important and why couldn’t you take the call with him there? He sat up ran a hand down his face, giving himself a minute to feel less tired before he got up to find out where you had gone.

“He fell asleep on the couch, I figured I would just leave him there because you know how he gets when he’s tired and grumpy.” He heard you laugh. Who was it? Could it have been Mark or even Johnny wondering what their most favorite dongsaeng was up to? No, they knew not to bother him when he was with you when they had no schedules.

He was not going to let you talk about him behind his back no matter who it was, so he walked in and threw himself into your arms and into the view of the person you were facetiming with a loud whine and a huge, wet kiss on your cheek.

“Yah! You’re going to kill someone of you keep throwing yourself at people like that! Sit properly!” He heard a strict voice yell.

“Eomma?” Haechan questioned, looking between you and the screen in confusion.

“Did I wake you?” You asked him sweetly.

“Who cares? It’s nearly dinner time anyways just wait for bed. I can’t believe how lazy you are.” He heard his sister nag.

His eyes became even wider in the realization that the love of his life and his family were just casually talking on the phone. Without him!

He allowed you to carry on with your conversation with his family, chiming in every now and then. He mostly just sat beside you and let his thoughts do as they pleased while he laid his head on your shoulder. He loved how close you were with his family. He loved that both you and his family were comfortable enough with each other to just call and catch up at any time. His heart felt so full.

“It was so nice talking to you guys! Please call again soon. Let me know how that cake you guys make turns out and send me the recipe. Bye!” You smiled and waved at the screen.

“That was a surprise. Since when do you talk to my mom and satan’s spawn so casually?”

“I talk to satan’s spawn all the time! I’m talking to you now!” You joked as you poked his cheek.

“Ha ha, stop. You are so funny. Where do you even get this stuff?” He deadpanned.

“I would say I talk to your mom maybe once or twice a week and your sister and I actually text a lot, it’s like she’s my best friend sometimes.”

The two of you continued talking, he had a lot of questions about this “weird” little relationship and you had answers for him. However, most of his questions were about whether or not you all just called each other to complain about him, to which you assured he came up less often than he thought.

What did you guys talk about? Mostly life updates and recipes tried in those few days or anything that you thought might spark the other’s interest.

How do you not find his sister annoying? She’s really not, she actually reminded you a lot of him.

When did you all start speaking to his family regularly? After about the third time you all met, his mother had asked for your number after one of his concerts.

Which Lee family member was your favorite? His mom was always in the first place but second or third could be a tie between Mark’s brother and Haechan’s sister, sometimes even Taeyong’s sister. He did not laugh at that.

Do you guys ever really not talk about him? Well of course you do, but it’s mostly about his schedules, how proud you all are, and sometimes how much you all miss him when he’s busy.

“Maybe if you miss me you can just call me instead of my mom and sister.” He huffed jokingly.

“I know baby, you just get tired and your mom is close enough for me.” You smiled, running your hands through his hair gently before you lightly pressed a kiss to his lips.

Days later Haechan was at the dorm it was his turn to call his mom, but the line happened to be busy, it wasn’t until about an hour later that his mom returned his call.

“Eomma! I didn’t know you were so popular.” Haechan joked.

“I was on a call with y/n, how are you? Have you been eating? How long did you sleep?” She began to question, causing Haechan to laugh before he and his mom were able to catch up like normal.

“And don’t forget to call y/n and say goodnight to them too. I love you, goodnight.” His mom reminded him before she hung up.

There go the butterflies again, they were fluttering around his stomach like crazy and he felt his face flush with heat. Knowing his mom loved you as much as she did made his heart soar, even if it was just a reminder to call you and tell you goodnight. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face.

“What’s up with you?” Johnny asked.

“Nothing,” Haechan answered quickly, the smile falling from his face but struggling to stay down.

Johnny eyed him suspiciously for a second before he carried on with whatever he was doing, “You know you can talk to me right?”

“I know,” Haechan started, should he tell Johnny? “I just… I got off the phone with my mom and she just reminded me to call y/n and say goodnight. I don’t know- it just makes me happy that my mom loves y/n too.”

“We love you guys together too, y/n is an amazing person.” Johnny smiled at the younger softly. This, however, did not help Hyuck calm down, his heart began beating faster and he could not stop the huge smile from spreading across his face before he fell face-first into his pillow.

“Awww! Hyuck is in love!” Johnny teased.

In response, Hyuck only groaned and burrowed further into the pillow which only made Johnny laugh harder before he gave the younger a break.

When the coast was clear, aka Johnny left the room, Haechan pulled out his phone and called you as quickly as he could.

“Hi baby,” he heard your voice.

“I just wanted to tell you that I love you, and I know I don’t tell you enough but I really do love you so much. You mean the world to me, and I also really love that my mom loves you so much, and even Johnny hyung just told me how amazing you are. And I also have to tell you goodnight because my mom told me too, but I mostly just really wanted to call you and tell you that I love you so much more than I can put into words.”

“Hyuck! Don’t make me cry. I love you too, so so much. I can’t wait to see you again and hug you and kiss you, you are so cute!” You exclaimed.

You heard a whisper, “I’ll sneak out right now, just give me like 2 hours and-”

“Cute, but no.”

“Gotta go, babe, Taeyong hyung caught me. I’ll see you later.”

“Later as in tomorrow Donghyuck, and I mean tomorrow tomorrow, not minutes or a few hours after midnight.” Taeyong called out.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop reactions #haechan scenarios #donghyuck scenarios #haechan fic #donghyuck fic #haechan imagines #donghyuck imagines #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #NCT 127 #NCT #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct oneshot #nct scenarios #nct au

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psychadelickate · 3 years

Text

NCIS: Gibbs - Stakeout

Title: Stakeout Word Count: 1154| Fandom: NCIS Pairing: Gibbs x Reader Rating: K Gif: Not Mine Requested: @ilovemark1951 Prompt: Hello, I would love if you could write something with Gibbs. He is following a suspect, when they look around so Gibbs grabs Reader and kisses them so he doesn't get caught. Hopefully you like this idea.

You didn’t think this was how you were going to be spending your Friday night. You cussed under your breath, not for the first time this evening. Of all the things you could’ve been doing, your mom has asked you to go shopping for a family get together. While that in itself hadn’t been an issue, the fact that you had to tag along with two of your least favorite cousins was. It’s not that you hated them, but given a choice, you would’ve opted to watch paint dry. It would’ve been less painful for you.

The topic once again focused on how your biological clock was ticking and that soon you wouldn’t be viable for marriage and… you drowned out the rest of the conversation, knowing how it was going to go.

As you placed another jar of pasta sauce into the cart you cursed at your long-time friend, Timothy McGee, for cancelling at the last minute. Granted, you knew work was always the priority, but you couldn’t help it. You were in hell, for the last half hour. Friday evenings usually meant dinners with the NCIS Agents; if you could weren’t working on a case. That you weren’t NCIS but rather FBI didn’t matter to any of them, it was more than a decade of friendship with them and you were sure when it came down to the nitty-gritty of stuff, the NCIS agents would always have your back.

Even if the FBI only existed to annoy NCIS. Tony regularly reminded you of that, often repeating his Boss’ words. It was fortunate for DiNozzo that Gibbs rarely joined the group at these dinners, preferring to spend time in his basement building a boat.

The first time Kate had mentioned the boat-building in the basement, you’d thought she was kidding but, months later, when DiNozzo and McGee confirmed Gibbs was actually building a boat there, you had no choice but to believe them. You have yet to see the boat, or the basement…

You hadn’t had much interaction with Special Agent Gibbs, even when agencies were forced to work together. He was wary of ‘head doctors’ and profilers and Behavioural Analysts’ and preferred to go with his ‘gut’ feelings on things. The most you’d shared with Agent Gibbs was maybe a quick ‘hello’ in the hallways of NCIS or wherever the meet was. Even at the dinners, Gibbs was not much of a talker, preferring to listen more. He was always polite, though.

Thinking of the man, you’re somewhat surprised when you see Agents Bishop and DiNozzo who are grocery shopping. That makes you somewhat suspicious. Why would Tony and Eleanor be shopping, together? And that’s when you notice their body language. They seem more alert than they should be for just shopping, and then you note that their attention is focused on a man closer to you in the same aisle. The man in question seems nervous, but there’s something else that troubles you about him, something that raises the hairs on the back of your neck.

It takes a second before you recognise the man – he’s the lead suspect in the case Team Gibbs is working on. McGee had asked your opinion on this Mr Donnelly and what you found scared you – just enough to warn McGee to be careful with this one.

Neither of the agents acknowledge you but you do see Eleanor say something into her sleeve. Probably updating McGee on the new development of you being present in the store.

And then your attention is diverted by your nagging cousins.

“(Y/N), Are you even listening to me? It’s not as though your Mr Knight in Shining Armour, is just going to show up. You need to put some effort into dating, looking for him,” your cousin Myrtle tells you.

“Did it ever occur to you, that I don’t put any effort into dating, because I don’t want to date anyone?” you ask, your tone acerbic. You’re still trying to figure out a plan if Donnelly catches on to the fact that he’s under surveillance and what he’ll do when he does figure it out.

“Then you’re going to remain a spinster…” you miss the rest of her sentence because your attention is diverted when you feel a hand gently close around your upper arm and spin you around.

To say you’re surprised when you come face to face with one Special Agent Gibbs is an understatement of the year.

You try to keep your expression neutral; it’s a monumental task, but there’s also no need to alert Donnelly of anything just yet. Also Gibbs doesn’t give you time to process anything.

The only thing you’re aware of is Gibbs’ mouth slanting over yours, his lips pressing softly against yours. You feel his hands on your waist, gently pulling you into him and you can’t stop the moan that escapes you.

He pulls back, slowly, eyes pinned to yours. It’s a three second reprieve before he melds his mouth to yours once again, but not before whispering “Rule 27” in your ear. You try to remember if you’d heard DiNozzo or any of the other agents talking about Rule 27 but you can’t think straight because this time, when he kisses you, he’s not gently at all, fusing his mouth to yours, his tongue asking for entrance. You’re caught so off guard but you don’t deny him, granting him entrance. The kiss is hot and frenzied, and nothing like you’ve ever experienced before. When people had told you Gibbs could be intense, they certainly weren’t lying.

Gibbs only breaks the kiss when the need for oxygen overrides everything else. He pulls away, reluctantly, but doesn’t let go of your waist. By the time you get your bearings back, DiNozzo and Bishop have already cuffed Donnelly and DiNozzo is leading him to a group of other NCIS agents to be taken back to NCIS to be interrogated.

“Hi,” he offers you a shy smile and you can’t help but return it.

“Guess not all FBI Agents exist to annoy him,” you hear Tony stage whisper and a laugh escapes you without your permission.

“Don’t let Fornell know,” Gibbs growls and more laughter follows.

“Wait, you’re an FBI Agent?” Myrtle asks you. “I thought you’re an Analyst.”

“She is. A Behavioural Analyst, for the FBI,” Tony says, the annoyance prevalent in his tone.

“Look, we’d love to stay and chat, but there’s still a suspect in custody and right now Agent (Y/L/N) has to be debriefed, so if you don’t mind, we’ll be leaving,” Eleanor adds.

She and DiNozzo don’t wait for your response and turn to leave with the rest of the Agents.

“How about a literal debrief after interrogation?” Gibbs asks you and you can’t help the blush that rises in your neck and cheeks.

“Only if you do the debrief,” you respond once your face stops flaming.

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#ncis #ncis fic #leroy jethro gibbs #special agent gibbs #gibbs x reader #reader ask #reader request

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years

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Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader

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blueprint-han · 3 years

Text

ex.

↪ so many what if’s. who would give you those answers?

— where in you stumble into your ex at a friend’s wedding, and the subsequent conversation leads to new hope blooming in your relationship.

pairing: chan x reader

genre: ex au; angst with a fluffy ending.

⇥ warnings: themes/mentions of break up/make up, mentions of alcohol, please let me know if I miss a warning. please note that i, by no means condone any toxic relationships. this fic here with bang chan and Y/N is NOT an example of a toxic relationship or an implication of bang chan’s actions in real life. please take it as fiction.

word count: 3.3 K

type: one shot.

⇥ disclaimer: this fiction does not represent the activities of the real Bang Chan, nor is associated with JYPE in any form. Events are pure fiction. ♡

↯ note: I decided to merge your request with the prompt because it’s angst and guess who’s the queen of angst? You !! 😌 This was picked up from ex, as you can see and again your url ~vibes~ so uwu hope you enjoy it, this is my first time writing angst tho so please go easy on me. <3 Love you mom <333 ⇥ dawn.☀️

The dance hall’s fairly crowded when you take another shot of your martini, drowning in its essence as you make a desperate attempt to disconnect yourself from your vicinity. You wanna believe you’re drunk, though it’s not true in the slightest — you can still feel, hear, see everything around you clearly — the alcohol’s clearly not having its effect today. You wish, oh so dearly wish it did, because the man standing about two tables away from you really doesn’t deserve the attention you’re giving him right now.

The last thing you’d expected when you entered the hall to attend your friend’s wedding was to stumble right into the one man you’d been trying to avoid for the past two months. At that very moment, you cursed all the odds for making you face the man of your nightmares, the one who broke your heart.

Bang Chan.

Sure enough, just like when he’d dropped the news on you, all the butterflies in your stomach drop dead one by one, gloom and desolation taking over. The mere sight of him is enough to send you into a frenzy of confusion — you feel the flutter in your heart to know that he’s doing okay, but you can also feel that pit of sadness, anger and heartbreak mixed to wash over as one of the most conflicting feelings ever.

“O-oh, hi there, Y/N.” Chan had waved a hand and bowed down, but you shakily nodded your head, not bothering to give him any words of acknowledgement as you stumbled into the hall. How is it that you didn’t notice him until half the wedding was over? How could you forget that he was supposed to attend, because he was the bride’s friend alike?

Was it wrong that part of you still wished that you could be standing next to him, watching him as he introduced you to his friends, calling you “his girlfriend”?

You wondered what the look on Chan’s face would’ve been when you left his greeting hanging in the cold air like that. Was he broken on the inside too? Or did he simply not care? He’d been the one to end it, after all. He looks smart right now — adorning a luxurious black suit, his brownish hair slicked neatly to the side and parted. The delicate silver chain you’d given him on his birthday is oddly still on his neck — you promise yourself to not think about it much, because you know it’ll give you hope — and hope’s a dangerous feeling, at least for you.

When the music starts blaring through the speakers and the couple start dancing together, you sigh, straightening your posture from where you’re leaning against the shot table. Your friend has the prettiest smile plastered onto her face — it comes naturally to her, you figure, seeming as to how she’s married to the love of her life right now. They both seem lost — almost peaceful — as they stare into each other’s eyes. Soon, more and more couples join, until the whole hall is filled with everyone dancing on their heels, twirling and smiling and dancing gracefully. Everyone except you, of course.

You sigh, fixing the hem of your swan-white dress. Way to go for your mood to be ruined — all because you happened to stumble upon your ex boyfriend, and thoughts consumed you as a whole. Was it so wrong of you to wish that you could go back in time and change his decision? You’d moved on from this — you’d told yourself you’d moved on a month ago. You wiped him out of your memory — all the things that reminded you of him — but what if you’d only patched up the wound, not healed it in the slightest? What if the person who held the key to repair your broken heart was held by a person who you’d let go, and by all means, couldn’t reach out now?

So many what if’s. Who would give you those answers? He surely hadn’t, when all he did was just break it out to you over a meeting at the park that he’d fallen out of love with you.

You never understood what happened. It just started with the less frequent messages and meet ups, the excuse of always being busy, and that slowly morphed into him ignoring you for days, until one day he broke the news and ended it, on good terms. Or at least you thought so.

You sigh again, asking the bartender to lend you one bottle of the drink — which he does without question — before you walk over to the staircase that seems to lead to the terrace. Away from the risk of your eyes landing on him and your thoughts going all over the place again. If only you could walk away from the pit of emotions in your heart the same way. If only.

When you kick the almost rusted door open, the fresh blast of cold air that hits you makes you sigh in relief. You tuck several strands of hair neatly behind your ear, walking to the edge as you glance at the view. Leaning against the concrete, you let the lights coming from the night cityscape blur your vision, along with the faint, distant echoing of horns coming from the roads fill your ears. It’s a distraction, after all.

You pop open the cork of the bottle, letting the fizz bubble down before pressing your lips against the rim. One gulp, two, you then gaze up at the night sky. Rinse and repeat, until the whole bottle is almost finished. You ignore the void in your heart, filling it with the essence of alcohol and ignoring the feelings bubbling in it right now.

Chan was like a drug — so addicting and so hard to get rid of once you got into the habit of consuming it regularly. You wanted to reach out and hold onto those memories you shared with him — he was the first person where you let your heart do the talking, and all it took was a look at another person to change lanes, leave you alone in the dust of your crushed heart — only to come to the disappointing note that you’d lost those memories forever. They existed merely in a place you couldn’t reach, couldn’t see, but could only recall. It was pure torture to you, but you’d ignored it all for so long, certainly you could ignore it again.

“Need a refill?”

Your head snaps back in the direction of the voice. A familiar, one soothing voice that now brings pain to your heart, now threatens to bring back the wave of emotions you’d kept at bay.

Your eyes meet the hazel brown orbs, and not diverting from their strong, fierce gaze; you scoff, turning back around to stare off into the distance.

Chan frowns, tilting his chin as he tries to soothe the burn from your two reactions. He doesn’t back away though, because now he maybe understands what you felt like when it all fell apart, when he wrote your ending with a shaky hand.

He walks front to where you’re leaning against the concrete, silently drinking out of the glass he holds in his hand.

Should I say something? He thinks. He should, right? When you ended it, you did end on peaceful terms, even though your reaction felt like you were more affected by it. Even after three months, he still feels the warmth that flowed through him whenever he looks at you — you who clearly don’t want to speak to him. He feels crazy now, for wanting to let you go.

You hadn’t even bothered to curse at him that day — just looked at him with eyes that honestly pierced through his soul, and hurt him more than any of your words could’ve. But maybe that was what he deserved, right?

“Why did you come here?” You ask, swirling the almost empty bottle in your hand. Oddly enough, you don’t feel like walking away, feet frozen in position. You’d ended it on good terms, didn’t you? You’d promised to each other you’d be good friends.

“I noticed you were alone.” The man feels himself say.

“Didn’t you bring your girlfriend along? Isn’t she alone right now?” You counter, taking another sip of your drink. Again, the alcohol is having no effect on you. Why did your tolerance have to be so high when you needed it to be low?

“I-” He takes a deep breath, tilting his head to either side to relieve the tension in his neck. “Broke up with her. About three weeks ago.”

You only chuckle. Somehow, your feelings are strong when he’s away, but when the cause is right in front of you, somehow they fail to make an appearance.

“Did you come here so you could win me back?” You ask, straightening up as you avoid Chan’s firm gaze on you, and his face goes gloomier and gloomier with every statement you spew at him. But then again, who could blame you for being angry? You had every right to.

“No.” He shook his head, fixing his position so his shoulders are about an inch away from yours. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m alright.” You say, softening at the edges at his concerned tone. You don’t know why you’re listening to him and not going back into the hall, but your legs are still frozen in place, something in you, your heart, doesn’t let you move.

Why do you feel like it’s your first time meeting him all over again?

He’s your ex, a part of your life you’re supposed to forget. Instead, you’re here, reminiscing it with the very person who left you in the first place. The situation you’re bound in is so weird — you almost don’t know what to do — but nonetheless, you just stand there, ignoring the slight flutter in your heart — just like the first time again.

“How are you doing?” You give yourself the liberty to ask him that question — just to know how he’s doing. Just another way for you to answer your countless what if’s, another method to try and fill the void in your heart.

Chan sighs, straightening up himself before looking at you. “I missed you.”

At the simple admission, you soften around the edges some more. It was wrong, so wrong that you were giving him to permission to get into your heart again — but what if you never wanted him to leave in the first place?

Hope — the dangerous feeling — starts resonating through your chest. It’s the tiniest emotion, one you can’t quite sense, but still feel. You can feel yourself grow warm, feel his gaze burn into the side of your face as he awaits a reaction.

“I-I don’t know what to say to that.” You reply, tucking some of your hair behind your ear again, before curling it with your index finger. You don’t look into his eyes yet — you’re not so brave to do so — focusing your bored, almost sad gaze as you count all the lights flashing at you on a skyscraper. Anything to distract you from this feeling.

Chan notices your stare, and sighs again. He’s battling himself too, right now. Should I say it? He thinks.

“I-I’ll be honest and confess to you, okay?” Chan turns to face you properly, while you bite your lip, waiting for his next words. Oddly enough, you feel more nervous now than you felt that day when Chan ended it with you. It’s so weird to feel it all over again.

“I’ve missed you and… I truly regret what I did that day.” He runs his hands through his chocolate brown hair, which seems to look particularly soft today. It reminds you of when you’d casually back hug him when he was working, pecking the back of his neck as you’d comb your fingers through his hair.

“Chan, no.” You feel your voice crack, the sadness overflowing out of its cup, spreading to all your senses as you close your eyes, letting out a single tear.

“Y/N…” Chan places his hand on your shoulder. You don’t flinch.

“Y-You l-left me.” You feel your brain cloud over, having no control over yourself as the words start spilling out of your mouth, piercing Chan’s heart bit by bit. “Y-You l-left me when I thought you’d stay… And you left me alone.” You feel his thumb rub against the bare skin of your shoulder, and this time, you stare up, looking straight into his eyes.

“I loved you,” You stammer, inhaling deeply as you take note of Chan’s expression. Surprisingly, he’s crying too. The rims of his eyes are filled with tears, his whole face goes red as he tries not to violently sob. “I love you.” You correct yourself.

“But you left me. You left me when I thought all I had was you and - and, what? Three months later, you tell me you miss me? Is this because your girlfriend broke up with you? You wanna win me back?” You spew, slamming your hand against his chest as you shake in his arms.

He wordlessly pulls you into his embrace, and you don’t complain — you don’t know if it’s because of your brain being cloudy and your eyes being all itchy from crying, or if it was because you missed his hugs, but you feel yourself clutch onto the material of your shirt as you cry, cry and cry until you feel like your tears don’t remain.

“I’m so sorry…” Is all he can say, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he tries to comfort you.

“I hate you, Chan. I hate you so much.”

Something in him shatters when he hears your words. He wordlessly mouths “Alright.” and doesn’t bother controlling his tears anymore, letting them flow down his cheeks and settle into your hair, not bothering to hold back the sounds of brokenness he makes either.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He pulls away, holding your chin to force your gaze into his eyes. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, it was so wrong of me. I regret it now, so much.” He curls his lips inwards, and watching him cry is soul-crushing. You should be hating him for leaving you, screaming, crying, but you hate yourself for reaching up to rake through his hair, sliding your hand down to his soft cheek before gently swiping your thumb against it. Wiping off his tears.

“We’ve already forgiven each other, right? It’s okay.” You take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Leaving him behind seems hard enough, but seeing him cry in front of you seems impossible. Are you still in love with him?

“I’m still sorry.” He mutters softly, gazing into your eyes as he takes hold of the hand that rests on his cheek. “I was so horrible to not know that I had you beside me all along, and instead I turned my back at you and left you. It was so wrong of me.” he breaks into tears again, and this time, before you can pull him into a hug, he grabs both your hands in his own. Holding them in between each other.

Yep, you’re still in love with him.

You look at him, absorbing all his features, and suddenly you’re thrown back to the first time he ever asked you out. It seems all too familiar — all too real. You find yourself holding your breath once again, waiting for what he has to say. He rests his forehead against your grasped hands, sighing brokenly as he speaks up.

“I won’t ask you to accept me again, Y/N.” He says as a matter of fact. He understands that the things that happened may not allow you to let him into your heart again. “I won’t ask you to date me either, because I know what I did isn’t that simple to forgive.”

Chan feels so stupid now. You were there for him all the time, yet he left you for someone else. You were beside him to help him when he felt desolated, but somehow he became a cause for your desolation. It shocks, confuses him and makes him seethe in turmoil.

“But,” he begins, holding his breath. “I still want to try. I wanna try being the person I couldn’t be when I was with you. I-I wanna change and win you back, b-but…”

“But?” You ask mindlessly, totally overwhelmed and dazed out by his honest words, the newfound emotion thrums to your chest. It’s love, for sure. But it isn’t that special kind of love, at least not yet.

“But I wanna do that only if you let me. It’s your choice, Y/N.”

Your eyes widen as you try to grasp his words, noticing how his warm hands holding onto yours still, only grow warmer and tighter.

“I r-really love you Y/N, a lot. And… well, I know you may not be able to make this decision soon. But please, just give it a thought?”

You shake your head, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you look up into his eyes again. They’re red and puffy by now, but they’re still gorgeous, they still remind you of the time you’d gently kiss over his eyelids whenever he cried like that.

You roll your eyes to the back of your head in deep thought, before tucking your bottom lip under your teeth and nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay…?” He asks, hopeful. You can almost feel his nervousness in the way his palms sweat, but you simply smile.

“We won’t date yet.” You said. “But I’ll allow you into my heart one last time. Don’t break it.”

And at your acceptance, Chan beams, feeling more tears roll down his eyes as he pulls you into a hug. This time, you don’t spare any restraint, wrapping your arms around your waist as you press your cheek against his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Chan keeps mumbling and repeating, to which you only shush him gently, telling him it’s okay and he doesn’t have to thank him.

He still does. You only smile to yourself, and for the first time in three months, you feel somewhat at peace. There’s a long way to go — you have to adapt to this relationship, let your heart join back bit by bit and build each other’s confidence again. But you’re certain you can do it together. This story deserved a happy ending, and you were going to give it one, no matter how hard you’d have to try.

“Hey guys!” You hear someone walk through the door, immediately parting away and clearing your throats.

“Yes?” The both of you say at the same time, tensing up and then laughing at each other. If Chan’s tears were crushing, Chan’s giggles were truly healing. The way his eyes would scrunch up into the cutest crescents and his dimples would make an appearance always made you want to peck his cheeks. Now wasn’t the time though.

“Dinner’s being served, so Y/F/N told you to come downstairs.” The person at the door says, immediately running downstairs, as if to not interrupt your moment any further.

“Alright.” You laugh, taking Chan’s hands in yours as you intertwine your nimble fingers with his long, slender ones. “Let’s go shall we?” You don’t bother picking up the alcohol bottles, because you’ll be coming back here with your friends later anyways — they can be tended to later.

“Of course,” Chan pulls you along with him, running to the door — both the ones that lead to the diner and the ones that signified your new start.

Curse at me all you want, as long as you let it all out, and we can go back to how we were.

*:･ﾟ✧ find the other fics here !

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writersrealmbts · 3 years

Text

Light of Christmas Morn

Description: You are woken up on Christmas morning...hopefully to share the happiness of the holiday with your hybrids.

“Ooo for another Christmas request, can I please request an Poly!OT7!Hybrid!BTS x human!fem!reader where the boys all wake her up excitedly on Christmas morning?🥰🎄”

Warnings: Fluff and stuff

Posted: 01/01/2021

Tags: ot7 x reader, hybrid au, hybrid ot7

2,694 words

A/N: For @kpopgirlbtssvt, sorry it’s late! Also! First story of 2021!

“Y/n! Wake up! It’s Christmas!” Taehyung shouted as he bounced on you.

You groaned and shoved him off, then noticed the clock as more bodies hopped onto the bed to try and bounce you awake.

“It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas!” Taehyung was practically singing, Jungkook and Jimin joining in when you made no move to get up.

“Santa came,” Jimin breathed reverently.

“It’s five a.m.,�� You said carefully, evenly.

The bouncing slowly ceased.

“But…but Santa came….” Jin whispered.

You propped yourself up to sort of glare at them. “So that gives you permission to be naughty?”

Taehyung nodded in his excitement while the others quickly shook their heads and Jungkook just looked frozen.

“You better hope your presents didn’t magically turn into coal,” You muttered, dropping back onto the bed. “Teeth brushed. You can go through your stockings. Someone make me coffee.”

The bed bounced a lot as they rushed to do as you said.

Only one didn’t move.

You rolled over and held out your hand for Yoongi.

He slunk up and curled up with you. “What is Christmas like? I mean…what was it like for you?”

You understood his meaning. It was his, and the other boys’, first Christmas. They’d never celebrated it before, they knew it existed, but to them it was just a season that meant a lot of hybrids were taken to homes—and a few weeks later a lot of hybrids were returned with broken hearts.

These seven, your boys, were adopted by you about four months prior—all special cases. No one was willing to take all seven, and removing one made all of them go feral. So they’d spent far too long in the shelter, locked away from the world.

Not you’d been acquainting them with all that they’d missed—Christmas being the biggest of them.

“I would wake up, and me and my siblings would get my parents up if they weren’t already up. We would go to the living room, and we would open our stockings while waiting for my parents to get their coffee or for my older sister to drag herself out of bed. Sometimes until my mom got breakfast in the oven. Then once we were all together, we would start opening presents. We didn’t take turns or anything, just…opened presents and thanked people and it was a happy sort of chaos. All you need to do, is open presents and enjoy what you’ve received. That’s more than enough for me. I’ll task Taehyung to pass out presents, which should keep him a little busier and reign in some of the chaos.” You nudged his cheek with your nose. “Think you can handle that?”

He nodded, sighing a little as he tried to force himself to relax.

You regularly squeezed his hand and relaxed it, guiding his breathing as the two of you had practiced. He found new things hard since they all had been unexposed to many things, but he and Seokjin had been the least exposed to new things and locked up the longest. Jungkook came in after them for length of time locked up, followed by Namjoon, Hoseok and Jimin, and finally, Taehyung—and their ability to adjust to new things sort of followed the length of time they’d been locked away as well. Jin was the exception, he had been adjusting surprisingly well, in fact, he seemed better adjusted than you were most of the time.

You smiled as you heard Yoongi purr softly, letting you know he was ready to go downstairs.

Jimin practically tackled you when you finally reached the living room. “I love it, I love it, I love it!”

“I’m glad,” You replied gently, stroking his back.

He pulled away and gently grasped the necklace. “It’s so pretty. Thank you.”

You smiled at cupped his cheek. “It looks good on you, Jimin. Bring Yoongi his stocking after we sit down?”

He nodded and bounced away.

You took Yoongi’s hand again and led him through the chaos and sat him in an armchair. “Don’t worry about anything but enjoying what you’ve received, and seeing how the others react to what you’ve gotten for them.”

“Right. I’m excited to see if they like what I got for them,” He murmured, blinking and furtively glancing at the others.

Jimin brought over Yoongi’s stocking, as well as your own.

“Taehyung, don’t eat all of your candy right away!” You called, standing up.

He quickly shut his mouth and shoved the rest of the candy in his stocking. He was already wearing the earrings you had gotten him. He liked earrings.

Jungkook was hugging his stocking with a small smile.

Jin was still studying the earrings you had purchased for him.

Namjoon had his ring on and was investigating his candy.

Hoseok had all seven bracelets on and was gleefully counting them over and over again while playing with the charms.

You knew what was in your stocking, since you’d filled it. You were more interested in watching them open presents.

Jimin brought you a mug of coffee. “Not grumpy anymore?”

“Not grumpy anymore,” You agreed, smiling up at him. “Time to open presents. Tae? You want to pass out presents?”

Taehyung lit up like the tree and hurried toward the tree, tail wagging a mile a minute. “I’ll be extra careful!”

“Don’t forget to make a pile for your own presents. Since we’re all down here, you can start opening once you have a present,” You instructed calmly, watching as Taehyung started carefully pulling presents. Most people would probably have them take turns opening presents but you didn’t think they would do well with the pressure of people watching them open presents. Jin’s ears turned red if two people looked at him, and Yoongi was somewhat uncomfortable with how many people were in the room—even if they were his people (he was very particular in calling all of you his people)—to even consider subjecting him to that sort of attention.

“It has a tail hole!” Hoseok shouted as he clutched the pants. “I don’t have to tear them!”

“Hyung! Look! It was made for cat ears!” Jimin was saying to Yoongi, holding up a hat.

Namjoon was staring in awe at the bonsai you’d gotten him.

Jin was wearing the sweater you had gotten him and was curled up next to Hoseok, watching the younger open his presents, but also discretely watching Yoongi open his presents.

Jungkook was peeling the paper carefully off of the presents instead of ripping it off, but you let him be because he looked happy and that was all you wanted for your precious hybrid babies.

It was all you dared ask for from day to day as you helped them cope with their freedom: that they were happy overall, and that you saw at least half-a-smile a day. You didn’t ask them to be fine all the time, or adventurous—you just asked them to try. Try, and even if you can’t do it that day, try again another day.

Everything looked better in the light of a new day.

And the light of Christmas morn was the most hopeful.

#ot7 #poly!bts #hybrid au #Christmas story madness #christmas story #bts #bts fic #seokjin #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bts x reader #ot7 x reader

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kenganparadise · 3 years

Note

Could you make a relationship&nsfw headcanons for Jun Sekibayashi?🙊 I love that man❤️🙌🏻 thank you!

AHHH THANK YOU!! I love this man so much! I’ve been DYING for someone to request him!! Thank you!!

Sekibayashi-

• I will fully stand by the fact that Seki is one of the best- if not the best- partners in Kengan Ashura/omega. He’s one of the most nontoxic people to be around.

• With Someone he genuinely cares about he’s considerate, loving, honest, and he wears his heart on his sleeve.

• If Seki has a partner that suffers with mental illness- depression, anxiety, PTSD, panic disorder- he is the greatest to be around. When his S/O goes through a depressive episode he’s always there to motivate them. He is the king of motivational speeches.

• He’s always there if his S/O is having a pannic/anxiety attack. “Shh Shhhh. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He whispers to them as he hold them in his arms. Hell rock them back and forth lovingly. He’s got their medication and a water ready to go.

• Seki is good at comforting and motivating people. It’s all apart of his natural charisma.

• He gives his S/O hugs everyday. He can’t go a day without giving his S/O physical affection. It’s a necessity. He’s a really physically affectionate guy. Even if he’s mad at his S/O he’ll always grumpily kiss their forehead.

• Seki tells his S/O exactly how he feels at any given moment even in front of his co-wrestlers. It’s known in SJPW that Seki and his partner are like parents so some of the other wrestlers. Seki is The mom of course

• Especially Haruo. It’s really important to Seki that Haruo and his partner have a good relationship. Haruo is his adopted son after all.

• DON’T let him fool you. Sekibayashi Is a very hairy man. He just shaved his body hair to make himself more aerodynamic and also to avoid chafing while wrestling. If he’s got a break or is out due to an injury you bet your sweet ass that hair is going to be grown out.

• His chest hair is super sexy tho.

• Once wresting is back on its regularly scheduled program he will have to shave it all off again.... this means he might have to ask his S/O for help. His S/O would be minding their own business and “Babe I need help. I can’t reach this one section on my back. Can you help me please?” He’ll timidly peak his head in. “Dammit, Jun, not again.”

• Seki is a major cuddler. Especially at night. It doesn’t matter is it’s 90 F (32 C) outside and the AC isn’t working, Seki will try to cuddle. Even though he sweats up a storm he needs to be holding his S/O. Even if his S/O pushes him away hell still try. He also snores too, super loud.

• He has a mental list of all his S/O’s favorite foods, snacks, drinks, and deserts. He tries to surprise them often. Every time he’s out and spots their favorite treat he’s gotta stop.

• In fact, he memorizes all of their likes and dislikes, he wants to know everything that they enjoy. Everything he’s out shopping or just on an errand he’ll spot something they might like, he can’t help but buy and surprise them with it. His S/O’s favorite things become his favorite things.

• Seki‘s love language is well... everything!! He wants to show his love in as many ways as possible. Through gifts, words of affirmation, quality Time, and so forth. There’s nothing Seki wont do for his beloved, he can never say no, and he can never stay mad.

• He is so incredibly loving. He will remind his S/O every day about how much they mean to him and how much they are loved and appreciated.

🔞WARNING NSFW AHEAD🔞

• Once again Seki is one of the best lovers in the Kenganverse. His ultimate goal is to pleasure his partner, he wants them a sweaty satisfied mess after he’s done with them.

• His kisses are breathtaking. He’s such a good kisser it’s not even funny (he practices on his pillow) He knows exactly how to leave his S/O gasping and breathless. He loves pulling away and seeing their bruised swollen lips.

• He’s sloppy with his tongue, he’s eager to taste and explore his S/O’s mouth.

• This man sucks toes and eats ass. No debate.

• He’s eager to please himself and his S/O. The first time he waits, he’s a patient man. He wants his S/O to make the first move. He doesn’t want to rush them, he wants them to make the first move when they’re ready.

• It’s date night at his place. He made popcorn and bought all of his S/O’s favorite snacks. The couple are on the couch enjoying the movie. He’s got an arm around his S/O and their head is on his chest.

• His beloved puts their hand on his thigh. Seki tenses, their hand is so close to his clothed crotch. His leg bounces. He controls himself and represses his sexual desires.

• Their hand moves up, closer. He gulps and stares down their hand. Their hand moves to the inside of his thigh. They know what their doing. But do they know what they’re doing to him?

• “Seki.” They purr. Hearing them say his name like that is enough to get the blood pumping. “Yes, Y/N?” He says under his breath. They turn to meet his eyes. The lovely eyes he can get lost in are clouded with lust. He licks his lips in anticipation before smashing them to their.

• Once the party has moved to the bedroom he slowly strips his S/O of their clothing. The first time he is going to make sweet love to his beloved.

• He’ll kiss up and down their body- he enjoys giving body worship. He’ll ask permission before removing each piece of clothing. Nipping and sucking up and down till he gets to their underwear.

• He takes them off with his teeth. Then he begins devouring them. He’s so good with his tongue. He’s sloppy and the sounds he makes is enough to make anyone blush.

• He’ll make his S/O cum at least once. But honestly he could go on all night just going down on them.

• “Remember we can stop whenever.” He lets his S/O know, and he holds true to that. If his S/O gets uncomfortable or wants to stop at any given moment he will. He won’t complain, he won’t get offended, but he will ask if they’re alright. He’s understanding and he wants his S/O to enjoy themselves.

• Seki is wearing protection of course. This man practices and preaches safe sex.

• He kisses them hard on the mouth as he uses his hand to lines himself up. He makes eye contact as he pushes himself in slowly.

• His dick is quite the stretch, he makes sure to coat himself up with lube for more comfort. His cock is fat. It’s a little thicker near the middle. He’s got a couple veins on the top, the tip is a nice deep red color. The skin is a little deeper than the skin on the rest of his body. He’s uncut. He manscapes if his S/O wants him too.

• His thrusts are slow at first, he kisses his S/O’s face. “You look so beautiful right now.” He purrs into their ear, he means every word.

• Slowly his thrusts will pick up speed. He cradles His S/O’s head in his hands, he kisses them deeply and swallows every moan. Between kisses he whispers how beautiful his S/O looks, how good they feel, and how hot they are. He gives them nothing but praise and he means every word.

• He makes sure his S/O cums before him. Then buries his face in the crook of their neck, his thrusts pick up speed. He moans their name as he cums. His loads are absolutely massive.

• Seki is wonderfully and out of the bedroom. After the initial first time Seki will pretty much do whatever his S/O wants, he will indulge whatever kink they have. He’s eager to please.

• He does have a katoptronophilia kink. He loves sex in front of mirrors. He wants to watch himself fuck, and he wants to watch his S/O get fucked from every angles. He also really gets his rocks off from watching his S/O’s expression as they watch themselves in the mirror.

• He prefers love making, but he likes to get rough now and again. God he’s so strong. He can basically lift his S/O into any position and throw them around (if they’re into that of course) his hips can be wild as they trust into his S/O. Hell have them screaming in no time at all.

• Aftercare is One of Seki’s favorite moments, he loves cuddling with his S/O in the sticky sweaty afterglow. He thinks they look so beautiful. He’ll kiss their forehead and ask if he can do anything else for them.

#I wish I had him for my panic attacks #sekibayashi jun #nasty

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abuttoncalledsmalls · 3 years

Text

Spring Blooms

Warnings: FLUFF - all of the tooth rotting fluff you can handle

Pairings: Marcus Pike x fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1 K

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing for Marcus. Big ups to @yespolkadotkitty for all of her amazing beta-ing and encouragement.

“Are you nervous..?” You whispered into your fiancé’s ear.

Marcus Pike looked at you with his deep amber eyes and chuckled. “It’s more of a nervous energy,” he confessed.

Your seven year old daughter, Elizabeth, sprinted ahead toward the Sculpture Garden at the National Gallery. Sensing that you were not keeping up with her, she turned around to see you both lagging behind. She exhaled deeply and drudged over to you in the over-exaggerated way that only little girls can.

“C’mon, Mom and Marcus! Don’t you wanna see the statues?”

“Lizzy, the sculptures aren’t going anywhere. I promise,” you assured her.

“Sometimes it’s nice just to stop and smell the roses,” chimed in Marcus.

Lizzy scanned the area looking for any type of flower. When she couldn’t spot any, she shot him a quizzical look. “I don’t see any roses. How can I smell them if they aren’t any?”

“It’s an expression, honey. It means to relax and enjoy life.” You took your hand and ruffled her bright red hair.

She looked at you and nodded. “Oh.”

***

Marcus, Lizzy, and you decided to stop and smell the proverbial roses on that Saturday afternoon. It was a beautiful early spring day in Washington, D.C. Flowers were just beginning to bud and grass was starting to return to its emerald green hue. People were emerging from their homes, eager to shake off any somber remnants of winter.

Your day started with the time old tradition of sleeping in. Thankfully, Lizzy understood that sleeping in was a special treat for you. Instead of waking you up, she fixed herself a bowl of Frosted Flakes and watched cartoons. It was a win-win situation. You got an extra ninety minutes of sleep and she got to eat sugary cereal while watching TV.

After you woke up, Marcus came over to your small apartment. He had wanted you and Lizzy to move in with him for the longest time, but you kept holding off. You wanted to wait until you married to make that transition for yourself and your little girl. Marcus understood, but he regularly reminded you that the offer was always open.

“How are my two favorite girls?” he asked when he walked in the door.

“Marcus!” Lizzy lept from her spot on the couch to rush into his arms. “Guess what? Guess what? GUESS WHAT?”

“What? What? What, my dizzy Miss Lizzy?”

“I lost a baby tooth last night!”

“You did?” he replied with feigned surprise. He looked at you with a knowing smile. You had texted him the night before sharing Lizzy’s excitement.

“Yeah! And - and - Mom told me to leave the tooth under my pillow. I did and guess what? The tooth fairy came to visit me and she left me a whole dollar!”

“Wow! That’s awesome. I think we should go to brunch to celebrate. What do you think, Y/N?”

“Please Mom, can we?”

Two adorable pairs of eyes turned on you. You were powerless.

“I think that is a wonderful idea,” you began. “Give us thirty minutes to get ready?”

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll wait...”

As you went into your bedroom to get dressed, you overheard Lizzy and Marcus sharing a conversation about all of the pancakes they were going to eat. It warmed your heart to see the man that you loved and your little girl get on so well. He treated her as if she were his own - bringing small presents, helping with homework, sharing bedtime stories, and sometimes even cooking dinner. There wasn’t much that Marcus wouldn’t do for Lizzy. The way her face lit up whenever he’d agree on an activity she suggested made him melt.

Watching the two of them together made you fall in love with him even more. If there was any doubt about Marcus being the one you wanted to spend your life with, it was washed away the moment you saw him with Lizzy.

You finished up dressing and walked out into the living room to find your daughter still dressed in her pajamas. She was sprawled out on the couch and watching a rerun of My Little Pony with Marcus. You walked in front of the television.

“Time to get dressed and ready, kiddo.” Lizzy began to whine.

“Elizabeth...”

She continued to pout.

“C’mon, Lizzy. The sooner you get dressed, the sooner we can eat all of those pancakes and drink milkshakes,” Marcus added.

“Strawberry milkshakes with extra whipped cream?”

“Anything for the prettiest girls in the world. But, you have to listen to your mom and get dressed.”

Lizzy jumped up and dashed off to her bedroom. You went over to the couch and settled down to cuddle next to Marcus. He leaned in and the two of you shared a passionate kiss.

“Mmm. That’s way better than any milkshake, Agent Pike.”

“I would agree, but I need one more just to make sure.” You giggled and the two of you shared another tender kiss.

“Yep - much better than a milkshake,” he said.

A wide smile crossed your lips. His large right hand came over to cover your left hand. The hand where your engagement ring would soon be. You had wanted to wait and wear it after both you and Marcus told Lizzy the news together. Initially you were a little worried that he would be offended at your request. As expected though, he proved himself to be the sweet and supportive man that you loved with all of your being. He understood your reasoning and was completely onboard with the plan. The two of you knew that Lizzy would be excited about the engagement, but you also knew that this would be a big change that she would have to adjust to.

“Do you want to tell her over brunch,” you asked while leaning your head on Marcus’s shoulder.

“I was thinking we’d do it somewhere else, but definitely today.”

“Hmmm. It sounds like my F.B.I. agent has a plan. Care to brief me on that?”

“That’s classified information, I’m afraid.”

“Fine, keep your secrets.” You went in to kiss his full lips again. Luck would have it that as the two of you pulled away, Lizzy came back into the living room.

She scrunched up her face in disgust. “Eww. Kissing.”

Both you and Marcus laughed.

***

Brunch was lovely. The three of you went to a small hole-in-the-wall diner that was a ten minute walk from the National Gallery of Art. Marcus swore that they had the best silver dollar pancakes in all of D.C. As usual - he was correct. The tiny pancakes were delicious and buttery. Lizzy inhaled her portion quickly. She wanted more, but you had to cut her off to make sure that she left room for a fruit cup.

“But Mom…”

“You need to eat some fruit - it will help you grow up strong.”

Lizzy pointed to her milkshake. “My milkshake has strawberries. That’s a fruit.”

Marcus roared with laughter. You gave him a look indicating that he was not helping the situation. He quieted down but still donned a large grin.

“Nice try, but it doesn’t work that way.”

Your daughter sighed, but did finish off her fruit cup without any further complaint.

At the end of the meal, Marcus recommended that you all walk off your pancakes with a visit to the sculpture garden at the National Gallery.

“That sounds awesome!”

“It does,” you told Lizzy. “But before we go, I think you should use the restroom.” She rose from her seat in your booth and skipped off to the facilities.

“I want to tell her about the engagement while we’re at the sculpture garden, if that’s okay with you.”

“Absolutely,” you nodded.

“I have something special planned and I need to ask you to trust me, Y/N. I know I am asking a lot, but -”

You interrupted him assuring him that you completely trusted him and would follow his lead. He hadn’t steered you wrong before and you know he wouldn’t start now. His body relaxed a tiny bit and his warm brown eyes softened.

“Thank you, Y/N. I love you so much.” He brought his lips to yours while holding your face. You started to feel yourself melt. The sweet taste of butter, syrup, coffee, and him were enough to make your head start spinning. You were quickly brought back to your senses when you heard a clumsy, but adorable attempt to clear a throat. The two of you pulled away to see Lizzy sitting back in her seat staring at you.

“I think we should start to head out,” Marcus suggested.

***

The three of you leisurely strolled through the sculpture garden together. Although you all had been to the garden many times, the towering statues still took your breath away. You were particularly fond of Scott Burton’s Six-Part Seating. There was just something about the contrast between the cold, hard geometric lines and the warm, soft red granite that drew you in every single time. You also were moved by the interactivity of the piece - encouraging the audience in social interaction by sitting in these large seats. As you were admiring the work, Marcus wrapped his arm around your waist and planted a small kiss on your cheek. Seeing you admire and fawn over art tended to make him go weak in the knees. There was just something about sharing a passion, like art, that was so intimate and personal.

As you continued through the garden, you noticed that Marcus was increasingly getting more antsy. You didn’t say anything as you figured that it was all part of his plan. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious about what he had in mind. You were. He was a romantic and freely admitted that he liked to make a fuss over those he loved. You also knew that he was a terrible liar and wasn’t exactly the best at keeping non-government secrets.

As you neared the end of the sculpture garden, Marcus asked if you could take a brief moment to pause. The three of you were standing together in front of a Roy Lichtenstein sculpture of a house and admired it in quiet. Lizzy was the first to speak.

“Is this stopping to smell the roses?”

“A bit,” you answered. “We’re taking some time to enjoy this sculpture that looks like a home. I’d say that counts. What do you think, sweetheart?” You looked over to your right, expecting to see Marcus and he wasn’t there. You looked over to your left and he wasn’t there either.

“Mom! Look behind you!!”

You turned around to see Marcus on one knee with an open ring box. Bystanders were stopping and looking on. You felt tears start to well up in your eyes. He had already proposed and you had said yes. However, the fact that he was doing it again and including your little girl meant the world to you.

He gave the exact beautiful speech that made you cry, although you heard it before. You said yes (again) through your tears and brought him up off his knees. As the two of you passionately kissed, he slid the engagement ring onto your finger. The onlookers began to cheer and clap.

“You and Mom are gonna get married,” exclaimed Lizzy. You nodded through your happy tears.

“But, there’s one more thing I need to do,” said Marcus. Lizzy and you shared a confused look.

Marcus descended onto his knee again, but this time in front of Lizzy. He pulled out a small burgundy box from his jacket pocket and opened it. Inside was a gold necklace with a small rose gold pendant in the shape of a rose. Lizzy’s eyes widened and her mouth fell agape.

“My dizzy Miss Lizzy,” began Marcus. “I have adored you from the first time we met. You are just like your mother - smart, beautiful, creative, and funny. I am so lucky to have you in my life. That’s why I want to spend the rest of yours protecting and loving you. Elizabeth, can I be your dad?”

“You really want to be my dad?!?!”

“Yes. One hundred percent. If you’ll have me.”

She jumped into Marcus’s arms. “Yes, yes, yes! I want you to be my dad more than anything ever.”

The small remaining group of onlookers began to aww and a few sniffles were audible. Marcus took the necklace from its box and put it on Lizzy. Happy tears freely fell between the three of you as you tightly embraced. Lizzy was the first to compose herself enough to speak.

“Mom, I think I like stopping to smell the roses.”

Tags: @zannemes

#marcus pike #agent marcus pike #marcus pike fic #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fluff #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #marcus pike x fem!reader

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sirowsky · 3 years

Text

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Warnings: Language, little angst.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: A lot happens in this chapter, and we finally get some real sparks going. Also, Máma Moreno starts butting in.

Chapter 5

Three months later, you were not only back on your feet, but running. You’d never really been a runner before, but now it seemed like such a freedom, you could barely get enough of it. You’d lost a lot of weight during your coma, and you were scrawny to begin with, so the nutritionist had not been happy when you’d started requesting more physical activity. But after making a solemn vow to eat as much as he asked, he’d finally agreed. And you had both been surprised to discover that you had gained weight even quicker as your body converted the fuel into muscles. You were actually heavier now than you ever had been, and you were genuinely proud of that, because you knew it meant that you were not only strong again, but stronger than before. It felt like a visible testament to your victory over evil. Plus – you looked good. You’d even gotten the colour and natural volume back in your hair.

You were still living at the Heroics HQ medical facility, and you were still being tested to the nines every single day, but you didn’t mind. Everyone here were nice to you, and it wasn’t like you were in a cage, you went outside every day. They just didn’t like you to wander off too far, since you hadn’t been discharged yet, which meant you were still their responsibility. You’d been pleasantly surprised to find out that they had taken care of all your bills and payments while you were in a coma and the subsequent rehabilitation, so your house was still very much in order for whenever you’d be heading back there.

Marcus had been instrumental in your recovery. As soon as they discovered that his electromagnetic currents helped you, the science-department had temporarily melded with the medical department to figure out why that was, and what was the optimal way of utilising this fortuitus abnormality. Luckily for you, that had meant many long hours spent with Marcus by your side as he carefully experimented with stimulating your muscles into cooperating with you. It hadn’t been nearly as sexy as it sounded, but it did offer you plenty of time to talk to each other, and you knew a lot more about him now. Or, at least a lot more about Missy. The proud dad had quickly emerged once he got more comfortable with you. Curiously, though, no one had been able to work out just how his current had such a positive influence on your body. They thought that it might have to do with some sort of harmonisation between the tiny electrical impulses in your nerves and the frequency of his current, but they couldn’t say for sure, because so far, all of their tests had been inconclusive.

Today was going to be a special day for you, in terms of the testing, because they wanted to do a full-scale physical exam, complete with endurance- and strength-tests, something you’d actually been looking forward to. You were excited to find out if you were getting close to getting that clean-bill-of-health stamp any time soon. The tests themselves were gruelling. They involved running pretty much as fast as you could, in short intervals, but in the break between each interval you had to do a strength exercise. Weight-lifting, or working with kettle-bells, or just regular push-ups, there were lots of different ones. After that, you were given an hour to rest, before you were going to be put through an obstacle course to check your agility and reflexes, and it was at this point that Marcus joined the small crowd of maybe thirty people, that had gathered to find out how you’d do. And you were slightly concerned to see him exchange a look with his mother, the almighty Anita Moreno, at the back of that crowd. What could she possibly want to see this for? He was in his uniform again, and looked winded, as though he’d hurried to get there in time to see this. He met your eyes and gave you an encouraging nod. You’d been told that this course was one that the Heroics regularly used for training, and that they’d scaled it down a bit for you, but that the aim was still to test your physique quite rigorously, so it wouldn’t be easy. You took your place on the start-line, and waited for the whistle. It really was a tough course. You had to use your whole body to get past practically every single obstacle, and by the end, you were so tired that you collapsed the moment you crossed the finish-line, to the enthusiastic applause of the little crowd. The twins were by your side immediately, taking your vitals to make sure that you were only normally tired, not dangerous-tired. They’d been with you the whole day, and this was the final hurdle before you’d all get to rest. They’d both been sweating almost as much as you, just from worrying about you.

“All good. She’s okay.”

Amaire declared to the supervising physician. He, in turn, looked at his digital pad and tapped a few times, then a smile crept into his features.

“Well, it’s not a course-record, but considering the fact that most humans don’t even finish this course on their first try, I think we can give you your stamp now.”

You sat up and stared wide-eyed at him, while Amaire shoved a water-bottle into your hand and all but pushed it into your mouth.

“I’m officially declaring you completely recovered, and no longer in need of our medical assistance. Congratulations, miss. You really are a miracle.”

Joy bubbled up inside you as you took in his words. You’d made it. You’d actually made it. There was a light-hearted laughter in your throat as you worked on getting your pulse under control.

“Don’t let Miracle Guy hear you say that, Doc, whatever you do.”

“Hah, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Then Marcus was suddenly right in front of you, pulling you to your feet and into a tight hug in one fluid movement. He’d never hugged you before, and you wished that he hadn’t done it now when you were soaking his uniform in your sweat. But, holy crap, his arms felt good around you.

“Felicidades, preciosa! I knew you’d be ready. How do you feel?”

“Thank you, Marcus, I feel amazing. Like I wanna sleep for a week, but still amazing.”

Reluctantly, you pulled back to look at him. As wonderful as it was to be encircled by those arms, you wanted him to see your eyes when you spoke again.

“Really, thank you. I don’t know if I could have recovered this well without you, or if I would’ve even been able to wake my body up, ever again. I was trapped in the most impossible position imaginable, and you set me free. I’ve never thanked you for that. I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough.”

He seemed slightly embarrassed by your gratitude, and his eyes seemed a bit glossier as he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter.

“You have no idea what it means to me to see you like this. Strong and healthy and happy. I’ll never forget those eyes that stared up at me that day in the hospital, and I spent every day after that feeling helpless and useless every time I walked into your med-chamber. You don’t owe me a damned thing, hermosa. The fact that I get to see those eyes smile again, is more than I could ever ask for.”

Someone clearing their throat very loudly and deliberately, made you automatically pull away from one another. And then you nearly choked on your own saliva when you realised that it was his mother.

“Hey, mom. I was wondering what brought you here today.”

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me, hijo? Didn’t I raise you to be polite?”

“It’s polite not to sneak up on people, deliberately trying to make them uncomfortable, máma. She doesn’t need your dramatics today.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. You were never close with your own family, so it always warmed your heart to see people who were. And he’d spoken about his mother during your long conversations in the med-chamber, so you knew that they were extremely close, which was why they could argue quite heatedly without ever getting truly angry with one another.

“That’s okay. A little drama can be very entertaining.”

You looked from Marcus to his mother, and then introduced yourself, with a respectful nod, rather than offering your still sweat-soaked hand. She gave her son a sideways glance.

“Don’t you have some work to attend to, boy?”

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“Do I look like I’m about to leave you alone with a woman that has no idea just how horrid you can be?”

“When have I ever been horrid?!”

“Oh, would you like me the count it out for you? Or would the word ‘ambassador’ suffice?”

“That was just a misunderstanding, and that boy was beyond over-sensitive.”

“He was a war-veteran and you deliberately pushed all of those buttons, until he crashed, just to make a fucking point.”

“Hey, mind your language.”

“Not even a little bit. Now, whatever you want with my friend, you can either start talking, or you can go away.”

You didn’t miss the slightly possessive edge to the way he said ‘my friend’, and you were a tad concerned at just how much you liked it. His mother scoffed and then turned on her heels and walked away.

“Sorry about that. She’s… tricky.”

“I wouldn’t have minded speaking with her, you know.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, but you don’t know her. She’s never once asked about you, even with all the time I’ve spent in the med-section. Never wanted to know how you were doing or even anything about you. So, the fact that she’s approaching you now, when you’ve just been cleared, means she’s up to something.”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t touched by your willingness to protect me from monster Máma.”

He got a sheepish expression on his face and bowed his head to look at his own shoes.

“I’d happily protect you from anyone.”

“Thank you. I’ll remember that if I’m ever in trouble again.”

He looked up at you, and for a moment his face was pained, before he quickly tried to adapt a more neutral expression. It didn’t quite work.

“So… you’re leaving then?”

“Well… I doubt they’ll just let me stay, rent free. Not to mention take up a med-chamber that someone else will undoubtedly need at some point. And I do miss my house, not to mention the cleaning I’m in for. God, I wonder if any of my plants made it? Is it weird that I’m looking forward to cleaning? And cooking, holy crap, do I miss cooking, and sun-bathing in the garden with my favourite music, and curling up on the sofa…”

He smiled a kind of knowing smile, though, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Oh, I’m rambling now, aren’t I?”

“A bit. But I get it. Home is… home. I’m glad you get to go back to yours.”

“Me too. Um… so, I’m sure there’s a bunch of paper-work I’ll have to sign and I most definitely need a long shower and a lot of soap before I go anywhere. But I’d love to see you before I leave.”

“Sure. I’ll most likely be in the control room, or my office. Just ask around.”

“Okay.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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celestialices · 3 years

Text

QUEST!

Greek Mythology x Haikyuu

Haikyuu!Ensemble x Reader

Summary: You were just a perfectly normal student at The University of Tokyo, when suddenly a bunch of 'normal boys', as they call themselves, appeared in your life and started to squeeze themselves into your life. Always saying something like "You're a goddess, we need to take you back to Olympus" (you brushed it off, saying that it was just a silly compliment) and even absurd sentences such as "You got Medusa's eyes" and "You're really Medusa's daughter!"

You really want a peaceful school year, but the universe beg to differ.

007: UNANTICIPATED ENCOUNTERS

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Your family is like a heap of stones, remove one and the entire structure will crumble. Living with your sympathetic mother and doting brother is a dream come true. Along with your only known relatives, Kyoutani Household and Inouka Family, completes the household. It’s small; however, there’s nothing else that could compete over this haven of yours. Moreover, your mother’s friend coming in the picture constantly every 6 months to take care of your family ever since you came into this world is another section of your stable life. He has been doting over you and acted as the father figure of your little family. His visits would always complete your year. Speaking of your acting paternal, he just arrived two days ago and will probably stay over for another five days. It’s amazing how his visits remain unchanging though, always the same month and the same days. It was unvarying, maybe that’s where you grasp some of the mannerism you have currently. Your surroundings has always been permanent. A little changes here and there would arise, but never big ones. That’s why it scares you if something ever happens; owing to the fact that this life you have is already part of you. It has always been you, your mother and Yuki. You’re already comfortable with this, possessing the same old life you had when you were born. A knock on your door snapped you out of your trance, your name was followed shortly after. “Are you almost ready?” Recognizing the voice, you stood up pronto, so swift that it almost ruined your balance. Shaking your head to dismiss the dizziness off, you picked up your school bag and opened the door. “Good morning, Heiji-san.” You greeted with a smile. He ruffled your hair. One of his tendencies whenever he visits. It’s like messing up your hair before you leave for school is a must. “Good morning. Breakfast is prepared, your friend is also there already.” He announced. Friend. He’s probably talking about Hirugami Sachiro, your infamous childhood friend. It’s like a tradition nowadays, he regularly comes over for breakfast, reasoning that your mother cooks the best meals. When the truth is he just dreadfully hates seeing to his older sister and her boyfriend being ‘lovey-dovey.’ You didn’t noticed that Heiji had already dragged you downstairs, startled when you overheard your mother and Hirugami having a chat. It happens so often now, being lost in your own thoughts. You approached them, kissing your mother’s cheek and saying your greetings before nodding at Hirugami. “Let’s eat!” Yuki yelled out, provoking the four of you to come to the dining room. You immediately started to consume the served meal after everyone sat down, since praying wasn’t really necessary. Your mother never pushed beliefs into the both of you, your opinions and own faith will be yours to decide on. Freedom is a fundamental for her ‘How-To-Be-A-Perfect-Mother-101.’ “How about you invite your other friend sometimes?” Your mother, Shibayama Yumie, asked you. “Korai-kun, was it?” Her memory impresses you from time to time; but then again, you only have a few friends. Countable by one hand, howbeit they’re all as good as one’s word. “Hmm, I’ll tell him to come by for breakfast sometimes, mom.” You answered blissfully. Breakfasts are the most important meal of the day, and eating with the whole family are euphoric. Especially with your two best friends and Heiji, aka three of the most important people of your life? That’s like dreaming with one's eyes open. “It’ll be nice to meet your friends.” Heiji said. “And also, invite your relatives. It’s just proper to celebrate our lady’s coming-of-age at once.” Oh, right. You just turned 18 a few days ago, but throwing a party isn’t really obligatory. But because your mother kept pressing you about it, you just excused that Heiji should be there, as he is an important factor in your life after all. “We can party this weekend, a day before Heiji-san leaves.” Yuki suggested. “That’ll be splendid.” Heiji replied while nodding his head. He smiled at Yuki before turning to you, “Request all of your friends to come, okay? It’s a must for me to meet all your acquaintances.” Chuckling at his desire, you just bobbed your head as a sign of agreement. As if you’ll invite a lot of people. “Are you two done?” Yumie asked, looking at you and Hirugami. “You better leave now, or else you’ll be late for school.” “Right, right.” Hirugami stood up from his seat, gathering all his belongings after chugging a glass of water. “Thank you for the toothsome breakfast, Yumie-san! I’ll look forward to more of your cooking.” Hirugami is.. shameless. What’s missing is him calling your mother ‘mom’ too. Who knows, it’ll probably happen sooner or later. “We’ll be going now!” You both said simultaneously before exiting the house. Walking with Hirugami to school is one of the thousands habits you’ve picked up as well since your friendship with him started. Your mother asking for him to “protect” you was the sole reason of it, along with freedom, safety has always been a big deal for her. It is her top priority for you and your brother, it’s honestly admirable. And of course, living in the same neighborhood with the Hirugami family made it a piece of cake. Anyhow, it’s reassuring. As someone who’s not entirely fond of changes, having your fixed routine, that you unconsciously formed while growing up, occur like the usual brings a sense of comfort to you.

”So, about that guy from last night.” Hirugami began the conversation after minutes of silently walking. Ever since bumping into the mysterious man yesterday and witnessing his unexpected reaction, your friends have been getting on your nerves with their constant queries. ”Shut up.” You cut him off pronto. Seriously, was blowing up your notifications up until midnight not enough? “For the last time, I don’t know him, Sachiro.” With an exasperated sigh, you fastened your pace, showing your obvious annoyance. “I won’t tease you anymore, wait up!” Hirugami catched up while bursting with laughter. Him making fun of you was not new, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t irksome. “I just thought you finally found a partner after being single for so long.” You immediately sent a glare to your friend after he said those words. “Hirugami Sachiro, I will end you.” You threatened with your most serious face, but nevertheless, he just laughed. Sometimes, the urge to choke him until he runs out of breath will pop up. “Fine, fine. I’ll shut up.” With one last chuckle coming out his mouth, he finally piped down. Not a moment after when his phone started ringing, making you look up to him. “It’s Korai.” He announced, answering the phone call straight away. You just stared at him while he talked to Hoshiumi, disappointed that you can’t hear what Hoshiumi’s saying on the other line. And your companion is insensitive enough to not put him on speaker. After a few minutes, he ended the call and peeked at you forthwith. “He’s waiting for us by the gates.” “Okay.” It didn’t take long after you reached the gates, already seeing Hoshiumi’s unique white hair from afar. His eyes perked up when you and Hirugami locked eyes with him, smiled when you waved at him. After exchanging greetings with Hoshiumi, the three of you started to walk on your respective classrooms. “Oh, right. I heard a rumor.” Hoshiumi suddenly declared. “What rumor?” Hirugami asked. What even kind of rumors for Hoshiumi to give a damn about it? “Transferees.” “Transferees? In the middle of the second semester?” You questioned.

“Yeah. Two of them are in one of your classes, apparently.” Hoshiumi informed. “Hirugami and I share some of the classes with the other two.” Who could that be? Who in their right mind would transfer in a middle of a semester? You halted, realizing that you already reached your class. “Oh, I’m here. See you later.” “Library.” Hirugami gave you a heads up. The library is one of the places in school where you three meet up to fill up the free time before eating lunch. It’s amazing how your schedules go along with each other. You merely nodded in return before entering your homeroom. You sat in your corresponding seat without interruptions, taking out your phone since no one will talk to you anyways. Plugging your earphones in after bringing out your book, you separated yourself from the world. Music is another element of your life. It makes you forget the real situation in hand, transports you into a state which is not your own. Under the influence of music, it seems like you feel what you never felt before, it makes you understand what you don’t understand, to have powers which you can’t have. Music is powerful, it inspires. It gives you a glimpse of an impossible world. A few songs played before you heard the bell rang, bringing you back to reality. It saddened you, but music will never leave your side no matter what. Your professor entered after a few minutes, two boys after her. “Good morning. An addition of two students will be joining us this semester. Namely, Sakusa Kiyoomi,” The one wearing a mask and has curly hair bowed his head. “And Komori Motoya.” The man who has light-colored hair and thick, round eyebrows waved. The class erupted into whispers, some of them waving back at the seemingly cheerful boy. “Please take care of us!” Komori uttered and inclined his head. “You two can seat behind Shibayama.” You flinched at the sudden call, but raised your hand nonetheless. You forgot that there are two vacant seats behind you, not that it mattered anyway. As the two were seated, your professor instantly started her discussion. And as the good student you are, you quietly listened and took your notes. After three boring hours, the bell finally rang, signalling the end of class. You stood up from your seat as soon as the professor left, not letting anyone approach you like the asocial you are. You started walking towards the library while scrolling through your phone, confident that you won’t bump into someone. Well, surely a person with common sense would avoid you, will they not? Wrong. You’re absolutely wrong. You sighed before glancing at the person you bumped into. You’ve been bumping into people a lot these days, is this your new profound curse? “Sorry.” You hid your astonishment after locking eyes with him. A student with dark-brown hair and grayish-yellow fox-like eyes who looks like he’s eventually on his way to murder someone. You bowed at him and immediately left. It’s the first time you saw his face in the university, so he’s either a transferee or someone who doesn’t like going out in the grounds. Despite being introverted, you’re proud to say you know all the faces in your university. You stood in front the library’s door to let out another deep sigh. Backing away when the door suddenly opened from your side. “Oh, my apologies. That was rude of me.” He uttered, motioning for you to enter first. You peeked at him, and saw that his gunmetal blue eyes staring at you. “Ah, thank you.” Offering him a smile before entering the library, completely unaware of his change of expression. Plopping yourself down beside Hoshiumi, you started to read the book you picked up before approaching them. Unconsciously, you let out another groan, thinking back at today’s events. Interacting with people is truly draining.

A/N: And there goes the second-years from the representative team 👀 Oh, and I just want to say that I may use she/her pronouns/fem!reader but please keep in mind that this is a safe space for everyone :). If it’s confusing, reader is from Shibayama family (consisting of a mother and younger brother). Family relatives [ Kyoutani, Inouka (comprising of a mother + son) ] and her mother’s friend (Heiji-san, standing up as her father figure) visits them from time to time. In conclusion, her family has very few members. Happy Holidays, everyone! May 2021 give us good memories. Always remember to stay safe! And as usual, thank you for tuning in! <3

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schrijverr · 3 years

Text

I Have a Heart Condition, You Dick

Tony lets it slip to Steve that he has a heart condition.

Steve wants to make sure Tony is okay and not needlessly hurting, but Tony thinks Steve is babying him and thinks him incapable of taking care of himself. They talk it out.

On AO3.

Ships: none, could be interpreted as pre-slash Steve/Tony

Warnings: mentions of medical condition

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

It started when Clint dropped out of a vent behind the obviously tired genius, who was waiting for a desperately needed cup of coffee, and said: “Boo.”

Tony jumped in the air as he startled violently and clutched his chest as he exclaimed: “Jesus fucking Christ, Birdbrain, you can’t do that! I have a heart condition, you dick!”

Steve had been enjoying his breakfast when the spectacle occurred and looked up in alarm as he asked: “You have a heart condition?”

“I have a heart condition? I have- are you fucking serious, Steve?” Tony ranted, “What do you think this is, a fancy night light?” he tapped his reactor harshly, then saw the faces of Steve and Clint, with a disbelieving voice he said: “Oh my God, you two didn’t know I have a heart condition.”

“That’s important information, you idiot. I could have killed you,” Clint sounded distressed.

“Blah, blah, it was mostly a hyperbole,” Tony waved his concerns away, “I thought it was in my file, granted I did delete a lot about the arc reactor, so maybe it was unclear. Hmm, that would explain why Agent threatened to tase me.”

“Tony, a heart condition is nothing to joke about,” Steve said, looking at Tony intently in the hope his message got across.

In turn Tony only rolled his eyes: “I am aware, Capsicle. Might surprise you, but I’ve actually been living with it for a few years, I know my limits and I’m not going to be a liability out there. Trust me, geez.”

“That’s not what I-”

“Spare me the lecture, Spangles,” Tony got his coffee and left the two there.

Steve looked at Clint and said: “I swear that’s not what I meant with that.”

“I could have killed him,” Clint merely repeated, still distressed.

“No, you couldn- well, maybe, but I don’t think so. Tony will need more than a small scare to take him out,” Steve assured him.

“How would you know?” it was obvious that Clint didn’t believe him.

“Because I used to have one, Clint,” Steve smirked, “A lot of people seemed to forget I was a little squirt from Brooklyn with a list of medical issues longer than army paperwork.”

Clint looked him up and down with distrust, before seeming to take his word for it. Though he did vow to be more careful around his favorite snark buddy and it seemed Steve had decided to do the same, because after that things were different.

Not bad different.

Not even obviously different.

Just different.

It was mostly Steve, though. Clint only started to announce himself when he entered a room Tony was already in and made sure not to scare the man too much.

Steve on the other hand researched foods that were good and bad for heart conditions and made sure to only cook with the good kind for Tony. He also remembered the unpleasant sensations of when his heart was beating too fast from before the serum and made sure Tony didn’t have to do anything too straining and checked in on him during battle. On top of that he started to nag Tony, that was not what Steve called it of course, Steve called it making sure he didn’t overwork himself and died of stress, but same difference.

And Tony noticed.

Of course, he did he wasn’t stupid. He was the opposite of stupid, actually. Though it did take him a while to add it all up.

It had started with a sandwich, which doesn’t sound that dramatic and it wasn’t either, honestly. Just one day, Steve knocked on his shop’s window and held up a plate. He’d done this before of course, but this particular sandwhich would be the start of getting Tony to eat regularly.

Tony had been down there for nearly three full days, living off granola bars, smoothies and coffee, so he merely appreciated the food as he waved Steve in. Snatching the sandwich up, he asked: “What brings you here, Cap?”

“Nothing much,” Steve shrugged, “Just hadn’t seen you in a while, figured you’d be neglecting to eat down here.”

“All I’m hearing is blah blah blah, Stevie,” Tony grinned, there was usually a lecture attached to food offerings, which he allowed because food, “You’ll be talking differently when you see these fire resistant suits I’m making for the squishy members.”

“Fire resistant?” Steve questioned.

Tony lit up: “See, I knew you’d see my wa-”

“Is that safe?” Steve ruined it.

“Is it- He asks if it’s safe. I’m making it, of course it’ll be safe,” Tony said indignantly.

“No, that’s not- I trust your engineering skills, just not your self preservation,” Steve clarified, “How are testing it? Is that safe?”

Tony blinked a few times, not expecting that response. No one had really cared how safe he was before, if he got the results.Then he laughed and deflected: “Steve, Stevie, Capsicle, Star Spangled Man With A Plan, I’m never safe,” Steve looked like he was about to interrupt, “But – and the buts make it important – but I am also never stupid.”

He was well aware that that was a lie and JARVIS had many tapes to prove it, but Steve didn’t have to know that.

“Are you sure?” Steve checked.

“Yeah, Cap, sure,” Tony assured him, “I’ll be as safe as humanly possible.”

“That sounds fake,” Steve eyed him suspiciously.

“And that is your cue to go, thanks for the food,” Tony shoved him out the workshop with a small wave, leaving him stunned for a second, “JARVIS, lock down, don’t let Mr. Health & Safety back in here.”

“Sir, do you think that is wise?”

“I do think that, I also think that a community college would be happy to have you, buddy,” Tony snarked.

“Tony. Tony,” Steve tapped on the glass when Tony didn’t respond, “Stark.”

“What?”

“Don’t do anything too stupid. And rest.”

“Whatever, Mom,” Tony rolled his eyes and got back to work.

It was little things like that which started to add up. They had already been happening, since Steve was unable to let anyone ruin their health in peace, but now their frequency increased.

Then it happened more overtly during battle, Tony had lost his suit and was running down a street, hoping to not get eaten by mutant rats, which was just iew.

His breathing was coming kind of ragged and it was uncomfortable, but he was managing. He still had a gauntlet and determination since he wasn’t going to admit to anyone that he’d been practically useless by some rats.

“Iron Man, status update,” Steve’s voice crackled over the coms.

“Down- Town- Chased-” Tony heaved, firing his repulsors, “No- Suit- Got- Three- Here- Handling- handling it.”

“Thor, get Iron Man out of there,” Steve ordered.

Tony wanted to protest, but he was too out of breath to do so and a small guilty part of him was glad the God of Thunder was coming his way, because- fuck.

He was nearly being chowed down by a rat when Thor appeared and came down with a mighty swing that decapitated the rat. Tony weakly raised a hand and wheezed: “Thanks, Thunderstruck.”

“No problem, Shieldbrother Stark. Are you alright?” Thor bellowed, dealing with the leftover rats in the alleyway.

“I- I’m fine,” Tony said.

Steve injected over the coms: “Get him to a high place out of the fight, Thor. Then head to the Hulk.”

“Aye, Captain,” Thor said, cutting off Tony’s protest of how he was still able to fight as he dropped Tony on top of a building before flying off.

“I know you’re still able to fight, Tony,” Steve sounded tired, “It’s just not a smart idea and we have it handled. Get started on prep for clean up in you want to help.”

Tony grumbled something, but didn’t comment further. He wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight right now and overall fighting didn’t sound very appealing. Steve wouldn’t lie about needing him and he’d done quite enough today.

It was only after that that Tony began to suspect something was up.

He first realized the visits to make sure he rested and ate had become more common. Then, when Steve asked about his schedule, he realized that had become a thing lately, before he noticed the food and added it to the most recent check up in battle.

Steve was babying him.

Once he had made that conclusion, he started to rewind to when it started to see what on earth he had said to make the other man think he was incapable of handling himself. It hit him when he went to grab some coffee and saw that Steve had left a bag decaf for him last time he was here.

“That motherfucker,” Tony said.

“Sir, I do not th-”

“Mute,” Tony didn’t want to listen to that right now. He had confessed a small weakness once and immediately Steve had jumped on it to treat him like less, he didn’t want to hear excuses for him, least of all from his own AI, his JARVIS.

He let the anger built up, he usually wasn’t one for not poking someone’s buttons when they had pissed him off, but he was smart enough to realize that a big fight between them would be bad for the team.

Because no matter how he spun it, they both kept everyone alive through communicating. Tony could see what needed to be done and Steve could strategatize a plan on the fly that completed that goal.

They needed to work together.

Naturally when Tony was pissed at someone, he didn’t want to communicatewith them, which was a minor detail he had forgotten in his grand master plan of ignoring.

His anger only grew each time he blocked Steve entrance from his workshop, denied his requests for his schedule or sparring or when the man wanted to know how he was doing. JARVIS wasn’t any help either and after too many times of trying to talk to him, Tony had ordered him to stop talking about Steve or his health for that matter.

When after two weeks of ignoring everyone – including his own body – the call to assemble went off, Tony suited up, despite the tension. He wasn’t letting New York be in peril when he could stop it, just because Steve thought he was too weak.

Steve would eat his words, or his motherhenning in this case. Tony wasn’t fragile, nor did he need special treatment.

The battle with the squid-robot-type creatures could be described as a proper disaster.

If Steve said go right, Tony would go left. If asked for imput, Tony would just do what he calculated to be right without saying a thing. If someone talked, Tony blasted music.

Sure, his moves worked and if anyone needed air support, he would show up out of nowhere, but he was being unnecessarily reckless.

He didn’t stay when the battle was over, just shooting off to the Tower on his own, giving everyone the cold shoulder. They walked into the Quinjet as Clint frowned: “What did we even do? Did any of you piss him off?”

“No, he just started shutting me out two weeks ago,” Steve said miserably, “From one day to the next I wasn’t allowed into the ‘shop anymore, I have no clue what I did. I didn’t even think it was this bad until now.”

“Well, you better go talk it out, Captain,” Natasha said, “Because that was a disaster.”

Steve sighed: “I will, but let’s just direct clean up for now. Everyone, you did good, let’s get some rest, alright?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Clint saluted lazily from where he had collapsed onto the Quinjet pilot seat in exhaustion.

Tony naturally avoided all attempts at communication again afterwards, until it came to a head. Steve had ben asking permission to enter the workshop for the past few days, never yielding any success, so he was trying a different method: “Tony, please come out of the ‘shop, I made food. Just come and eat something.”

“JARVIS why am I hearing Captain America in my workshop?” Tony asked icely.

“You stated – and I quote – “I do not wish to see Captain America or anyone unless the world is ending and they’re all on the brink of death” end quote. There was nothing about hearing, Sir,” he replied.

“J, remind me to donate you to the local High School,” Tony huffed.

“Noted, Sir,” JARVIS said, “Though I would advise to take up Steve’s offer on food. You have been here for 71 hours Sir and have not eaten in 21.”

“Blah, blah, I’m sure I have an energy bar somewhere around here,” Tony waved him away, “If I eat that, will you leave me alone?”

“I would, Sir, however, your emergency supplies have run out,” the AI informed him.

Tony cursed, he was kind of hungry now that JARVIS had mentioned it, but he didn’t want to admit weakness and eat Steve’s food.

In the end hunger won out and Tony mopily made his way to the kitchen.

It seemed like the whole team was there, each as surprised as him that he actually heeded their call for food. Tony would never admit it, but the loneliness had been setting in and getting yelled at and belittled sounded better than being by himself. He’d realized that the moment he’d heard Steve’s voice.

Steve smiled and handed him the plate: “Tony!” the smile faded when he took in the engineer’s state, but Tony ignored that in favor of taking the plate.

It was fish with veggies and nuts.

Health food.

Helps-gainst-a-heart-condition-food.

Fuck this.

Tony snapped, he was tired and hungry and had been beating himself up for weeks for allowing himself to show weakness, knowing what could happen. And now here it was, being shoved in his face yet again.

He just didn’t have the energy for this.

“What the fuck is this supposed to mean?” he demanded angrily.

Steve frowned: “I don’t understand.”

“Oh sure, play dumb, Captain Perfect,” Tony spat.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony,” Steve sounded frustrated, “Talk to me about what’s bothering you.”

“Like you’re not perfectly aware of that.”

The rest of the team was watching the argument like a tennis match, no one daring to interrupt the two, but all wanting to know how it ended.

“I am not aware of it, okay,” Steve threw his hands up, “I try to help and all I get is this attitude back. What am I doing wrong?”

“The healthy food, the constant checking up during missions, the benching me during straining stuff, the forcing me to sleep, you knew my goddamn schedule at some point, Rogers,” Tony told him, “I don’t need to be babied, I don’t need your coddling. I tell you one thing – just one – and you jump on it immediately. So, shove off, Mr. Pinnacle of Human Perfection or whatever. Just for once believe that I know what I’m fucking doing.”

Steve connected the dots to Clint scaring Tony all those months ago and sighed. Of course Tony would think that Steve was smothering him unnecessarily.

“Tony, I’m not babying you,” he started, “That was at least not my intention, I just wanted to keep you alive for as long as possible.”

“Because you think I can’t do that on my own,” Tony filled in the nonexistant blank, “Newsflash, I’ve been keeping myself for a long time already.”

“I don’t think you’re incapable, goddammit Tony, just fucking listen to me,” Steve yelled, everyone shocked by the cursing, “I care about you, you’re my teammate, the closest thing to family I have left. I just don’t want you to suffer needlessly, okay. I know how much it sucks and if I can help in the little ways, you can bet your ass that I will.”

Tony opened and closed his mouth while thinking of an answer. People caring for him was a bit new and he didn’t know how to accept that at face value, so instead he grumbled: “How would you even know it sucks.”

Steve smiled, he knew Tony wasn’t trying to be difficult, then answered: “I know for everyone else it is a long while ago, but from my perspective I was running around with countless health problems, including a heart condition, just a few years ago.”

“Oh…” Tony said, remembering the file he’d read on Steve, how stupid to let that slip his mind, “I- uhm, well, I guess that can be a reason.”

“Drop it in the hat of forgive and forget?” Steve held out his hand for Tony to shake.

He shook the hand and shrugged: “Might as well,” he was just glad he hadn’t fucked this up, that they didn’t think him weak.

“I for one am glad mom and dad made up,” Clint commented, finally breaking the silence the rest of the team had held while Steve and Tony made up.

“For that comment, you’re grounded, young man,” Tony said with an eyeroll.

“Resent that statement,” Clint shot back, “Especially coming from someone who’s swaying with hunger and exhaustion. Just eat your damn food and take a nap, Stark, then you can talk about grounding.”

Tony just flipped him the bird as he attacked his food with vigor while the rest started up all sorts of conversations around him.

Later he would get lectured anyway about not taking care of himself, but afterwards he would get pulled into a hug and maybe the next time Steve bothered him with food or sleeping a bit. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be that much of a bother anyway.

~~~~~~~~

DISCLAIMER:

God, I am not a medical person, please for the love of God and everything that is Holy to you: DO NOT and I repeat, DO NOT take anything in this fic as a fact without checking.

#RR writing #MCU #Marvel #Avengers #2012 Avengers #with AA and EMH spice #Tony Stark #Iron Man #Steve Rogers #Captain America #Steve & Tony #Iron Man & Captain America #Arc Reactor

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