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reidsnose · 3 years

Text

doodles

overview: reader doodles on her hands a lot and spencer has to give into the temptation of coloring it in

genre: flufffffff

a/n: sorry ive havent posted a fic in like a week, ive been in quite a slump but i had this idea well after midnight but i just had to write it so lmk what u guys think of this one :)

masterlist

doodling on your hands: a once nervous habit that had seeped into your everyday life and now is just a regular habit. nearly everyday you would come to work with clean hands and get home with a mini art gallery on your non dominant one.

Spencer admired this from the moment he noticed it. at first he thought you had a tattoo but when you came back the next day with it completely gone, he was a tad confused, only to catch you doodling on that very same hand a couple hours later on the jet. he thought maybe it was an occasional thing, a habit you'd quit once you got better situated into the team, but after nearly a year you still left work almost everyday with some cutesy sketches drawn on your hand.

Spencer found himself looking forward to your doodles, imagining in his head what you might draw each day, and thinking of all the colors you would add if you had the time. being the great profiler that he is, he noticed a pattern: you subconsciously correlated your doodles with your mood.

after especially hard cases or just bad days you always drew roses.

when you were very happy you drew all sorts of fruits.

anxiousness bore little swampy creatures and lily pads.

tired days filled your hands with random, intricate designs that you didn't even have to try hard to make.

and content was anything else.

he was so impressed and absolutely adored your little coping mechanism. watching you concentrate on making those teeny pieces of art simply for your own pleasure was definitely a sight to see. the way your eyebrows furrowed and tongue poked out a bit was absolutely positively adorable. and soon he had noticed that he was looking forward less to the doodles and more to watching you draw them. and after that he began looking forward to just you.

you were sat on the jet with your back to the corner of the last seat on the plane, creating a pattern of roses on the back of your hand. Spencer plopped down in the seat next to you, growing tired of watching from so far away.

"that bad, huh?" he asked, noticing the type of flower you were gracing your hand with.

"hm?" you looked up, confused.

"you only doodle roses on bad days." he explained, pointing to your hand.

"what? no i don't!" you defended, " i just think roses are neat."

to be fair, you were having a bad day but he could've profiled that without the doodle. he cant be right, can he? there was no way you had a mood system for your doodles! unless there was.

"repetitive strokes are therapeutic, so roses being rough days make sense. the spiral in the middle followed by however many layered petals you want is a perfectly repetitive while still interesting enough to doodle."

"if i didn't know any better i'd say you've been spying on me, Dr. Reid," you teased, enjoying the slight rouge that appeared on his cheeks.

"what! no! i'm- i'm a profiler i notice patterns! i just- spying sounds creepy." he stammered.

"ok. how about admiring." you jabbed, turning a little red yourself.

"fine. but you know coloring helps too." he flipped back to the old topic of conversation.

"unfortunately i only have the standard blue, black and red ink."

"roses are red." he chuckled.

"interesting point," you bent down and reached into your bag, pulling out a red pen and handing it to him, "knock yourself out."

"what?" he looked at you slightly bewildered.

"coloring is therapeutic, you said it yourself. and you and i both know that you need something to relax you after a case like that. we all do." you explained, trying to be as nonchalant as you could knowing his skin would touch yours.

he grabbed the pen and clicked it open, coloring smoothly and slowly inside the lines you had already made in black, careful not to go over them and smudge the ink. you and him both tried your best to ignore the warmth shooting through your bodies from every place your hands touched. his fingertips lightly grazing your knuckles as he worked.you worked your way up your arm, giving you both space to work and by the time you landed, you had a half sleeve garden of surprisingly well colored (and somehow shaded) red roses.

you went home that night and bought a pack of colorful (washable) pens, hoping this little rose garden with him wasn't a one time thing. and even if it was, you would want to add your own pop of color to your doodles.

thankfully it wasn't.

you and Spencer found yourselves drawing and coloring on your hand a lot. he would catch you doing it and pop in over your shoulder just to add a touch of color where he thought it fit. and you began to feel sad washing off what the two of you had created that day, feeling nostalgic for time that has hardly passed.

and sometimes on the jet you would get tired of your own skin, so you would draw little doodles on his hand, often times leaving a little heart at the base of his thumb. these little hearts he avoided washing off for as long as he possibly could because they felt like a part of you was always with him. he started doing the same thing to your hand, a sort of signature the two of you shared.

most days, the doodles on your hands were pretty much fully colored in.

but now Spencer began to worry. what if you get ink poisoning because of his coloring? sure, the risk was statistically low, improbable even; but never zero. so one night after work he went out and bought a little sketchbook and on the front he scrawled,

"y/n's super duper special sketchbook"

upon receiving it, after giving him a hug he never wanted to let go of, you took a sharpie and started editing the title he had given it. so it now read:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook"

the two of you used up a whole page that day, front and back filled with all types of fruits. Spencer smiled to himself, knowing this had made you very happy. you took a second to take a step back and admire him doing the very thing he admired you for. and you understood why; he just looked so precious and you suddenly realized you craved the feeling of his hand touching yours. so you leaned over and drew a little black heart at the base of his thumb. he looked up at you, smiling widely before returning a red heart to the base of your thumb.

and you guys tore through that book, using a page a day and filling it cover to cover in no time. your own personal handmade coloring book. it turned out to be both of your most prized possessions, a pang of sadness filling your chests as you finished the last page.

you felt bad taking it home with you that night, wondering if maybe Spencer wanted to keep it. maybe you should keep it at work so you can both have it. thats the fair thing to do. you looked down, smiling sadly at the little red heart on your hand.

he did want to keep it. but he had a better idea in mind. he looked down, smiling excitedly at the little black heart on his hand.

the next day when you arrived to work all your worries were solved. on your desk laid a new sketch book entitled:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook: volume ii"

you laughed as you read a small lilac post it note that said, "i want to keep this one please" signed with a little red heart in the corner.

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@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

#criminal minds #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #david rossi #luke alvez #tara lewis #matt simmons #bau #bau x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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missorgana · 4 years

Text

some kind of love story

pairing: finn/poe dameron

fandom: star wars (sequel trilogy)

rating: general

word count: 2282

summary: Finn might have met a real life Disney prince. And he forgot his jacket. (coffee shop AU)

(it’s midnight so,, technically day 5 BUT this is my fic for day 4 of my finnpoe week uwu. this is not beta read and kind of stupid but i was having cinderella thoughts for some reason?? hope yall enjoy this!)

read on ao3

Out of all things that could happen on Finn’s part time job, meeting a cute guy wasn’t one he anticipated.

Of course, he meets people here all the time. There’s a steady stream of new students coming and going, working for a few months and quitting because of stress, or because they quit their studies altogether.

Finn’s been here for almost half a year now, though, and found it a comforting place, as sleep deprived as he may be on his shifts.

He mostly works alongside Rey, who became his best friend in less than a week of the two meeting, and Rose, who was more quiet but utterly charming once they opened up to each other.

So work can’t be that bad with them around, is his point.

But when it comes to the customers, it’s unusual that he’ll talk this much to any of them, even fellow students, really.

Obvious pleasantries are always exchanged when his classmates happen to stop by, but again, when Finn’s working, his mind usually stays behind the counter.

He can’t possibly pinpoint the reason why this guy is special.

Well, okay, that’s a lie, because the curly haired stranger who walks in that morning looks like a Disney prince, thick brows and calloused knuckles once he grabs the cappuccino Finn made him.

That’s probably why. Truth be told, this person also seemed interested in much more conversation than the usual lot, and his subjects of conversation are probably also a factor in what drew him towards him.

It’s when Finn writes his order down on the cup, as one does, and the handsome man on the other side of the counter says, “Woah, buddy! You drew that?”

Typical of him to leave his notepad laying around for everyone to see.

Finn blushed, because it’s such a rare, personal thing for him to show his art, pretty much the only ones outside his teacher and fellow art students who’s seen it is Rey. And even that took a lot of begging on her part.

But he nods, the other man having to move aside for customers, but soon enough, this stranger approaches him when he’s finally free, at least for five minutes, and they may accidently longer than allowed when Finn is, you know, working.

“You study art?” is what he asks next, and suddenly, he’s complimenting him on the way he drew the features on the face of Taylor Swift, and telling Finn about music, the one he’s studying himself.

Of course, he looks taken out of an indie band, Finn ponders.

Also, yes, he likes Taylor Swift. The stranger laughs warmly, which might’ve been a bad sign, only he’s asking for his favorite album.

This conversation takes him out of everything he was thinking about.

Finn comes back to that thought when Rey calls him a nerd and urges him to help her out with the machine, so sadly, he’ll excuse himself.

Something inside his head makes him watch whoever this man is. Small peeks.

He’s typing away, headphones in, wearing bracelets on the right hand, tapping his chin, presumably when he’s thinking.

Alright, maybe that’s quite enough observation.

He’s wearing a red scarf, though, and a jacket that has definitely seen better days, and Finn might feel funny about all the times this guy fixes his hair, blowing strands out of his face.

He finds himself hoping he never gets a haircut, because God, there’s something about it.

The man almost looks golden in the morning light.

And he even catches Finn glancing over one time, which, embarrassing, if he didn’t wink back at him.

Okay, that definitely sparked something under his skin. In his brain, or his heart, or something.

Finn is far from a poet, clearly.

This chance encounter can’t possibly stir up something like a crush in him, he tells himself, someone he’s met for approximately half an hour, and yet, his attention keeps going back to him.

He’s captivating, and not just because Finn thinks he could definitely be a heartthrob folksinger if he wanted to. Maybe he’s already working on that, who knows.

So imagine the halt when he turns his gaze towards this mystery, who he definitely felt the eyes of when his back was turn, not that he can confirm it or anything, and finds an ever so empty chair staring back.

Oh well, business as usual.

Rey’s rants of her history professor, and discussions of their visit to Han and Leia’s next week easily take his mind off it.

Maybe he just imagined this too beautiful to be true stranger, Finn reasons, although Rey definitely told him to “Quit staring at the customers!”

He’s got a suspicion she definitely knows there was only one customer, in this scenario, she laughs at him like it, anyway.

It’s by 4pm, end of Finn’s shift and time for him to press some sketching in before a late dinner, his usual Sunday night, that he finds it.

A remnant of whatever happened this morning, and proof that no, he definitely didn’t imagine a dreamy customer admiring a simple doodle he left unsupervised.

Red patches on lapels and sleeves practically points the jacket out for him, still placed neatly over the back of the dark leather armchair.

The mystery man forgot his jacket.

Well, Finn can’t just leave it here, can he?

So maybe he reluctantly places it in their shit yall forgot box, title proudly credited to Rey, strangely hoping he’ll be there when it gets picked up.

Rose’s obsession with romantic novels might be rubbing off on him, he assumes.

Only explanation.

…

Finn solely drinks iced latte, but for some reason, he surprises Rose and himself by trying out that cappuccino they sell so many of.

It’s alright. He’s been accustomed to cold coffee for forever, now.

The stranger who was here last week is not a cause of this random change, of course. It’s not wrong to expand your horizons, after all, like his professor’s told them.

But speaking of that stranger, his jacket’s still in the box.

He would find it strange, someone not urging to get their stuff back, but at the same time, Finn doesn’t know if he’s studying at the same university, or area.

Probably not.

He’s got to admit to himself that he would have noticed. Or he thinks so, at least.

Thinking of this guy somehow makes him fidget with his notes, and furrow his brow, just slightly, when thinking about their meeting.

Not something repeated to Rose, albeit she’ll love a story like this.

It’s like this, Finn thinks, some love stories start. He’s being kind of cheesy right now. But they have that intimacy of the other seeing his art already, not on purpose, but he can’t find the annoyance he’d usually feel.

Instead, the compliments rack up everything else inside his brain.

Rey will definitely bug him about this if he tells her. Demand an extended version of the tale, or possibly sigh at the tragedy of her girlfriend and best friend both being hopeless romantics.

Might as well call it what it is.

The Disney prince, that’s what he names him in his head, he doesn’t return this weekend.

It’s a stupid thing to focus on, Finn knows.

But the jacket’s still lying there, which is honestly too bad. He’s got a feeling about those patches, the thread, the rainbow pin on the chest pocket.

Some kind of secret history.

Maybe he’s hyperfixating, but he’d like to know more.

Or maybe Finn just wants the damn jacket to be picked up.

…

Another week passes by until Finn lets his thoughts slip to Rey.

She’s amused and thrilled, which is just about what he expected. Told him to “Check the damn jacket for a label of ownership, a phone number, something.” but he’s almost scared to break his fantasy if he touches it.

Very similar observation he’s doing to when they met.

Rose asks him about it, of course, it was only a matter of time.

“Weird he hasn’t come back for it?”

Echoing his thoughts. This prince Charming figure he has in head keeps expanding, Finn making up theories of what he could be doing.

Is this fantasizing normal?

Rey just laughs when he asks, Rose wholeheartedly approves, exactly like it’s done in Hollywood films, Han mumbles about something about the youth.

Leia tells him Han was exactly the same, so that’s some relief.

Finn’s thinks he’s got whatever this streak of thought is under control, figuring it’ll pass, figuring he’ll find the jacket gone one morning, that this obsession doesn’t mean anything. Couldn’t mean anything.

Only he decides to sketch a new face, one he recognizes as a man he’s only met once, and Finn just has to finish it once he started.

Okay, now it might be getting embarrassing.

Also, hot coffee might not be too bad, he confirms. Rey’s shocked, to say the least, even the boss bats an eye.

It’s significantly less sweet than his usual, which is huge minus in his mind, but somehow, there’s still a charm about it.

Finn is scared he might be consumed with the idea of this guy. He’s really not a damsel in distress, as much as he feels like one.

He wonders what the man’s voice sounds like, when he sings that is.

And why he doesn’t get his jacket back, already.

Is Finn getting impatient?

Rey even asks him, after three weeks with no sign, “Your eye candy’s still not back?”

He can’t quite glare at her, but a pout she should see, it’s what she deserves, because he can’t really help it.

Finn doesn’t dare to touch the jacket, no, because it’s personal property, and he’ll feel gross about it.

Is this anticipation the same as in those fairytales? Like, did Cinderella feel this after meeting a prince? Prickling hands, a knot in the stomach, biting the bottom lip?

What a silly thing. But he can’t pretend he doesn’t enjoy it, a little bit. This isn’t like the first date he was on, in any way, weirdly.

A tad more magical.

The drawing is almost finished, though.

It doesn’t have a name. That’s another thing Finn’s missing, a name.

…

And suddenly, Finn’s fantasy gets thrown out the window, for something more real.

That is, after those three weeks without a clue, his thoughts straying towards things he’s never thought of before, mind buzzing for almost anything, the proclaimed Disney prince finally shows up.

Thoroughly unexpected, by now, he was starting to make peace with the scenario of the jacket being forgotten.

Yet, here the perfect stranger with the perfect hair is.

Okay, perfect might be a strong word, he’s only seen him twice, after all. But Finn’s running out of words.

The guy’s standing there in all his glory, seemingly recognizing him, with eyebrows shooting up and a smile spreading on his features.

That made him feel something too, because of course it did.

This is why Rose nudges his shoulder, telling him she’ll handle the next couple of orders. That’s just a lot.

Finn doesn’t get time to think it over, because cute guy’s here, and before he can even ask for it, the jacket’s handed to him.

He laughs. Almost a glorious sound, Finn scolds himself since it’s just a laugh, but somehow, he’s feeling deprived of this sound.

Whatever this total stranger did to him, it’s clearly not going away anytime soon.

Good thing cute guy seems just as hesitant to leave as Finn feels about turning his back to this.

He thanks him, sincerely, and he replies with no problem, because it really wasn’t a problem, except this new thing in his mind that won’t go away is kind of a problem.

Now, he gets a name. Poe.

Finn doesn’t really know how he imagined the name to sound, but this is, also, perfect. He didn’t make up any names prior, because not many seemed to fit.

To be honest, the words glide off the tongue of real life Disney prince in front of him, telling Finn he was out of state and would have picked it up sooner.

That explains it.

Doesn’t explain Finn’s, uh, pining, as Rose called it. Seems irrational to himself.

This new acquaintance, Poe, does ask about that drawing he saw, if he’s finished it.

Well that’s embarrassing, because he’s worked on that portrait of a certain someone, instead.

Finn hates his brain.

That is, until, “I’ve kind of been thinking about you, so.”

He swears to his heart, to his whole body not to blush. He probably does, anyway.

They don’t really know what to do with each other, at this point, least of all since Rose calls for his help, but her voice sounds like she probably wants him to hurry and make a move, like they do in the movies.

Finn’s not a Disney princess, he’s never tried this before.

Not in this way, where he feels like this is once in a lifetime, a crush, he knows now, that might grow inside him to something more.

Poe does get the last word, telling him he has a concert coming up this Friday. Just as surprising as their previous encounter.

“I can play some Taylor Swift, if you wanna come?”

Okay, how can he turn that down, though?

That’s maybe going to settle this warm feeling in gut. The words in his throat. Who knows.

Rose makes him promise to tell him everything, and she wants to come to the concert for support, and Rey too, and the giddiness is all over her face.

You know what? Finn’s pretty excited, too.

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hiccanna-tidbits · 4 years

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OTP Questionaire #1 - Hiccanna

I saved one of those “OTP Questionaire” memes AGES ago, and now that I actually have a tumblr, i.e. someplace to put it...fuck it, I’m doing it for Hiccanna. Here we goooooo! Questions are not mine, it’s been so long I genuinely don’t remember where I saved them from D:

ANYWAYS

· Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa: Anna, every time. She gets really pissed too and starts cursing out the stupid door before Hiccup just calmly points to the sign like “…Anna you push” and Anna’s like “RIGHT OF COURSE I KNEW THAT, I WAS JUST BEING DRAMATIC FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES”

· Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them: Anna 100% would do this half-subconsciously before she and Hiccup start dating and she has a planet-sized crush on him. One time she gets caught and just about dies of embarrassment. Luckily Hiccup doesn’t find out about this little habit until after they become a couple XD

· Who starts the tickle fights: Upon finding out Hiccup is ticklish, Anna gets the biggest shit-eating grin on her face and proceeds to troll him endlessly with merciless tickling. He does eventually get his revenge when he finds her ticklish spots and takes to sneaking up on her and pouncing in with tickle attacks when she least expects it. There’s probably an ongoing war occurring centered around this, and Hiccup is probably currently winning.

· Who starts the pillow fights: Anna, for sure. Hiccup always groans and pretends to be annoyed, but he secretly finds it adorable. He also gets WAY too into pillow fights once Anna eggs him on enough XD

· Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile: Anna, mainly because I headcanon her as having insomnia and generally having a hard time getting to sleep (that’s why getting up early is so hard for her—she doesn’t usually get to sleep at a decent hour!). Meanwhile Hiccup can usually just konk out as soon as his head hits the pillow if he’s tired enough, and Anna loves to watch him sleep because he’s adorable—he does these tiny little snores that just make her whole heart melt. When her insomnia is really bad and she’s up super late, she likes to kinda pretend to be Hiccup’s own personal sentry and “guard” him while he sleeps. She can’t help it—every time she looks at freckly sleeping Hiccup she feels an unstoppable wave of “I will protect this boy with My Entire Being.”

· Who mistakes salt for sugar: Anna, definitely. Hiccup is not above roasting her for this.

· Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning: I imagine Hiccup jerking awake in the dead of night and just letting out a long sigh as he realizes Anna is making midnight pizza rolls again. He then hears a string of faint, whispered curse words, as Anna most definitely tried to get the food out early to avoid the beep and not wake him and also definitely failed.

· Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines: Hiccup starts doing this ironically to make fun of bad pickup lines in general. Before he knows it, he’s doing it unironically. One day, he has a long moment of horrified realization about this, and whispers brokenly to himself “what have I become, I turned into the very monster I swore to fight.” Witnessing this whole process is some of the funniest shit Anna has ever seen.

· Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order: Hiccup might, if he got really bored and just wanted to be able to find books faster. For the most part, though, I imagine he has better things to do. Anna absolutely does not care.

· Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies: Anna does this shamelessly, and would probably rather eat the brownie batter than the finished brownies. At a certain point, she stops even trying to be discreet. Hiccup mildly worries about her getting salmonella eventually, but doesn’t ultimately stop her.

· Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion: I imagine Anna lowkey has a scented candle addiction and just comes home from Bath and Body Works hauling the motherload sometimes. One time she tried to arrange a bunch of her best ones for a romantic dinner, and naturally ended up setting the entire table on fire. Hiccup still wonders how she managed to do it.

· Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen: Being the Artsy OneTM, Hiccup would definitely doodle on Anna with pens. She loves his pictures—he mostly draws her dragons and flowers, and sometimes just random cute animals if Anna’s having a really rough day. She will sometimes put off showering just because she doesn’t want to wash the pictures off. Hiccup is secretly super flattered someone likes his art that much, but is also like “Anna take a damn shower, I can always draw you more ducklings” XD

· Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation: Anna has SO MANY of these that Hiccup sometimes worries they’re running out of space on their fridge for the important stuff, such as lizard-themed calendars and grocery lists.

· Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines: Anna is always nagging Hiccup to do these, in part to remind herself that they actually ARE dating and she’s not just hopelessly trying to claw her way out of the friendzone any longer XD

#hiccanna #hiccup x anna #anna x hiccup #otp questions #anna #hiccup #hiccupxanna #annaxhiccup #rotbtfd #httyd #frozen #crossover

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your-highnessmarvel · 4 years

Text

Alias

Summary: Bucky starts to remember a certain redhead. The past becomes a reason to connect and a reason to delve back into his treacherous mind.

Pairing: Bucky x Natasha (WinterWidow)

Warnings: Violence

AN: in the light of the post i reblogged of bucky and nat and my small rant, i decided to feed my imagination and console myself over the fact that nat is dead and we never got to see nat/bucky love onscreen. And also, my requests are empty. I’ll be making a masterlist of this soon.

CHAPTER ONE

The first time Bucky ever took notice of Natasha Romanoff, he was watching Steve doodle in the kitchen. The compound was half empty, silent, somber, and Steve had taken to doodling by the light of the moon, and Bucky had always found it especially relaxing to watch his oldest friend do the most mundane thing. And if it hadn’t been for the soft pitter-patter of footsteps on the hardwood floor, Bucky would have watched Steve draw for hours. But the light in the kitchen came on, and both Steve and Bucky looked up and saw a redhead waltzing in unabashedly.

The rest of the team were out for the night. Usually, Nat was the first to climb into Tony’s sleek car and go to some bar, but tonight, she stayed in. Bucky had never really taken notice in her, besides, well, that time he choked her and slammed her against a metal table. And now she was there, absently rummaging through the fridge, wearing thick leggings and woolen socks, her bright red hair a curled mess.

Steve went right back to his drawing, neck bent, unbothered by the normal appearance of Natasha. Bucky heard the scratch of Steve’s pencil, but he was unable to bring his eyes back to the paper.

Ever since Bucky had lived and survived his brainwash, all he’d wanted to do was live in a moderately stimulating world. He’d wanted to rekindle his friendship with Steve, something that had been ripped away from him so harshly. He’d wanted to mend his mind, to bring himself some sort of comfort and solace for the things he’d done.

He had not thought of striking up a romance.

Steve smiled, noticing just how intently his best friend was following the redhead with his eyes. “You can talk to her, you know,” Steve muttered, not leaving his drawing with his eyes.

Bucky frowned, turning his glare abruptly onto his friend. “What?”

They were far enough that Nat could not hear them as she was preparing herself a midnight snack.

“She’s a nice woman,” Steve continued. “Well, she can be harsh, but I’ve seen her be sweet.”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hm.”

But Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about her. Because there was something familiar. He’d seen her before. He knew her. His mind was a tricky place to venture in, and he preferred leaving his past with the Soviet Union where it belonged; in the dark confines of his thoughts. But he wanted to know exactly how Natasha fit into that puzzle.

He did his own digging. She was ex-KGB. Black Widow program. Red room. She could be placed with the Russians in the exact timeline where he’d been their perfect weapon, their ideal asset. The more he read, the more he felt like he lived it. The more he felt like he knew all of this already. But just like the Soviet’s had erased Bucky to implant the Winter Soldier, Bucky had done his best to erase the Winter Soldier.

One thing he kept telling himself was that if Nat knew him, wouldn’t she have come to him already? For answers. For unfinished business. For clarity. Whatever he’d done, to her or with her or despite of her, wouldn’t she have come clean?

Those were too many questions for Bucky’s fragile psyche to endure. For nights, he stirred awake in his bed, wondering if the redhead he couldn’t stop thinking about was afflicted with the same insomnia. He never dared talk to anyone about it, not even Steve. There was too much darkness Bucky did not want to relive.

But one day, Natasha stumbled upon his search history. She knew immediately that the memories had come to visit, had come knocking on the careful, intricate, and fragile door of Bucky’s mind.

She went to him then, careful in her approach. He was fresh off the running course, breathless and sweaty. She waited for him by the door, examining his posture. Defensive, when he saw her. She let her arms fall to her sides, open, harmless.

“Do you remember me?” she asked him carefully. He looked her over slowly, his blue eyes like two different doors to two different times.

“I think.”

She gulped. “What exactly?”

He shook his head, standing arms length away from her. “I don’t really know.”

Carefully, she stepped forward. Immediately, he stepped back. He’d grown a fear of proximity since his return to his normal self. And not because he was afraid of others, but because he was afraid of himself and the uncontrollable and unpredictability of his mind.

“I can tell you, if you want,” she offered, tensing at the sound of his metallic arm whizzing as the plates rearranged themselves.

He bit his lip, eyes cast down, pondering if he’d like to rehash his horrible past.

“It’s not...” she trailed off, gulping, and Bucky didn’t miss the slight redness of her cheeks. Oh, god, he thought, what did I do to her? “It’s not that bad, actually.” He felt a little bit better.

“I...” He looked at her; rosy cheeks, wide eyes, mouth parted. “I’d like to shower.”

She smiled. “I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”

After his shower, Bucky dressed in jeans and a sweater, and found Nat in the kitchen. She’d made coffee, and two mugs were sitting on the table. His was lightened with milk. She knew how he took his coffee?

When she saw him examining his mug, she cleared her throat. “I guess that’s a good place to start.” They both sat at the table, facing each other. “We were very... close, you and I.”

Bucky nodded. “I had a feeling.”

She rolled her eyes. “Why, because you’re such a ladies man?”

For the first time in a long time, Nat saw him smile. “I just figured that if you knew how I take my coffee, you knew me fairly well.”

Her eyes snapped down to his coffee mug, to where his fingers wrapped around the cup, flesh and metal. “You’re right.” This time, her tone was less playful. “I guess I should have told you all of this sooner. But when you didn’t recognize me, I was hurt. And then, when you came back, you were so... fragile.”

He winced.

She continued. “I’m sorry. I owed you this way sooner.”

“I don’t think I was ready,” he offered, examining the cut of her jaw, the wild curls of her hair. Something in his gut shifted. Reconnaissance. Familiarity. Warmth spread in his chest, the kind you get when you are on known ground, when you know you are safe.

She smiled tenderly.

Russia, 1998, Red Room. Black Widow Program. Class of ‘84.

Eleven girls, fourteen in age, stood as stiff as metal rods under the green artificial lights of the gymnasium. A series of glistening blue mattresses were spread out behind them, fighting equipment lying vagabond. Gloves. Helmets. Mushy batons.

Mistress Galina had ordered them all to change into their training uniforms at the the crack of dawn. Natalia stood rigid at the epicenter, watching with vivid eyes as her Mistress stalked into the room.

“Ladies!” Her voice echoed off the walls sending the renown chill down Nat’s spine. Behind Mistress Galina were two of the trainers and one medic, per usual.

“Mistress,” came the drawling tone of fourteen young recruits. Galina smiled tightly, standing before the row of girls. Her dark brown hair was pulled back tightly into a knot at the base of her head. She wore the black suit of high-ranking spies of the KGB, outlined with dark red. A Widow suit.

“Ladies, let me present to you one of your new trainers and our best new asset.” Mistress Galina stepped aside, gesturing tightly to the door. Fourteen pairs of eyes watched as a man walked in.

Natalia observed him with discreet indifference. She knew what interest got her, and so she schooled her features to remain stoic.

He was the most frightening man she had ever seen. His hair was chin length, the color of chocolate, obscuring his face, keeping him in the shadows. She could understand why, if he was a new asset. One important and redundant feature that she was taught was anonymity.

He was of average height for a man, not that she’d seen many. She knew Henrich the medic and two of the fifteen trainers were men. But this man was built different. He walked like shadows, silent and smooth, and Natalia could almost smell the training off of him. But what was more alarming wasn’t the width of his shoulders or the size of his hands or just how impenetrable his chest looked. It was his metal arm.

It glistened under the lights, whizzing as the metallic plates rearranged themselves. As he came to stand dutifully next to Mistress Galina, he eyes remained trained forward, and his metal digits closed into a fist.

He looked inhumane.

“I assume you are ready to move forward in your training?” Mistress Galina asked.

The response came quickly. “Yes, Mistress!”

Their training to this day had consisted of fighting dummies or one another. Marksmanship was four times a week, and they had already graduated to sniper rifles. Six hours of school per day.

“Good.” Mistress Galina examined the row of girls before her with a somber expression. Natalia’s eyes kept finding their way over to the man with the metallic arm. His expression was void, jaw clenched, shadow of a beard on his chin. It was almost as if he didn’t even know where he was.

“Natalia!”

Nat’s eyes found Mistress and she straightened, chin up as she was taught to respond to her superiors. “Yes, Mistress.”

“Come forward.”

Natalia knew what hesitation got her. She knew the pain; it still echoed in her bones, in her muscles. She stepped forward two steps, hands behind her back. Braid of red hair feeling especially tight at the bottom of her skull.

“Show me and your trainers what you’ve learned.”

Natalia frowned. “I beg your pardon, Mistress?”

Mistress Galina smiled tightly again. “Show me and your trainers what you’ve learned in combat training, will you?”

Natalia gulped. She had no selected partner. Was she being given leave to pick her own adversary? She turned her head to her left, examining the row of young girls standing straighter than rods, eyes forward, chests out. Learned, indoctrinated postures.

She was about to make her choice when a shadow moved in her periphery. Nat’s head snapped forward, eyes sharp, her senses on high alert. She’d been trained well to react to any stimuli.

The man, moving like a ghost, now stood directly in front of her. He was much taller than her, and much wider. He didn’t seem to care that she was a fourteen year old girl and he was a grown man. He didn’t seem to care that his expression was blank, almost dead. He didn’t seem to care that his metallic hand was twice the size of her wrist as he clamped it around her neck.

Natalia reacted quickly. Her training had beaten it into her that it was now second nature, instinct, to defend herself. Her feet left the ground, leg wrapping around his arm. Her hands gripped his metal wrist.

But he was twice her size in weight, and her featherweight did nothing to deter her.

“You will face off opponents twice your size!” Mistress Galina exclaimed, and the man brought Natalia to the floor with a deafening thud. Nat’s ears started to ring, but she didn’t let her body distract her. He had her in a choke hold, one knee on the ground, her on her back. “You will face off men able to break you like a straw!”

Nat’s lungs burned, but she ignored it as she looped a leg around his neck. The only sign of life he gave was a low huff before he picked her up and slammed her so hard against the ground that her vision went dark and her body went limp.

“You will have to fight twice as hard as they will!”

Nat’s breathing echoed in her ears. She felt this man, this ghost with a metal arm who moved like a shadow, pick her up. She was like a doll in his arms, her back against the sturdiness of his chest. Natalia had only seen one doll in her life.

When her vision began to return, she saw the thirteen pairs of feet still standing, witnessing her weakness, her loss. Something akin to shame filled her from head to toe, burning bright on her cheeks, and the rage that followed was worse for her training than pride.

She threw her head back and heard the satisfying crack of bone, the loosening of the Ghost’s arms around her. Seeing her opportunity, she used her slimness to slip through his grasp and send her heel into his booted foot.

She twist and kicked him in the gut.

His nose was bleeding when he faced her, but unlike her, he wasn’t seething with rage or coiling with shame. He was as void and as blank as a machine.

They stood a few feet apart, enough space between them to breathe, to asses. Natalia looked to her Mistress, not surprised to see the total carelessness on her features as she assessed the young girl. Natalia wasn’t done fighting.

He came back at her with the same expressionless eyes. Natalia dodged all of his punches, receiving a few kicks and shoves, but managed to survive. She could not, however, land any offensive blows.

“You cannot go on like this, Natalia!” Mistress Galina hollered. “Strike!”

Natalia’s labored breathing left her lungs, but she obeyed her Mistress. The Ghost and her had danced around the training mats a few paces. Natalia decided to strike, using her ingrained tactics. Her knuckles hurt and bruised from the blows she was able to land, but he was remarkably fast, and he returned her punches tenfold.

He didn’t seem to be tired. He didn’t even seem out of breath. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for him to avoid her legs as she attempted a wrestling hold and pressed her flush against his chest again. Her arms pinned to her sides.

“Do not hesitate, Soldat!” Mistress ordered, and Nat wasn’t sure if it was an order to her or to the Ghost.

She soon got her answer.

He picked her up as if she was a doll, slamming her body against the floor with such force that a piercing crack echoed in the room.

Natalia screamed and everything went black and red. Pain blinded her senses, the breath leaving her lungs until her mouth was open in a silent, suffocating scream. Feet shuffled around her, but no one touched her. No one came to her rescue. No one helped her.

She rolled onto her back and gasped loudly, squeezing her eyes shut. Praying that the Ghost would not continue his assault on her. That Mistress Galina would order him to stop.

But over the buzzing in her head and the throbbing of her heart and the breath in her throat, she heard Mistress Galina yell, “The pain must not stop you from fighting! The mission, ladies, the mission is more important than something as trivial as pain!”

Natalia was sure that her collarbone was broken. She’d broken a few bones in the past; fingers mostly, her left ankle, and her wrist. But this sort of pain was different.

Things were yelled around her but she couldn’t hear.

Someone grabbed her by the arm, and Natalia screamed as she was picked up, brought to her feet. Opening her eyes, she was met with the shadow of the man, his metal fingers clinging to her bicep. She was unconsciously leaning against him.

Mistress Galina stood in the wavering line of sight of Nat. “You will fight, Natalia.”

“Yes, Mistress,” she whispered breathless, the pain scattering along her shoulder. She held it in, her left side rigid with pain, as she turned and faced off the Ghost again.

He didn’t seem bothered by the pain he’d caused her. He was too effectively trained to let such things affect him.

She brought her arms before her face, wincing and clenching a scream behind her teeth.

A fourteen-year-old girl against a twenty something man.

He came at her and this time, the fist he rammed into her ribs was enough to unravel her. She fell to her side, yelling, the world swimming in and out of consciousness. She was vaguely aware of the hand in her bright red hair. As if she was out of her body, she was lifted from the ground and slammed right back into the floor, her head splitting open. There was red on the floor, but Natalia wasn’t sure if it was her hair out of it’s braid or blood.

She didn’t care. She let the darkness take her.

#bucky #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #bucky x natasha #buckynat #buckyxnat #buckyxnatasha #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky imagine #imagine bucky #winter soldier #the winder soldier #winter soldier x black widow #winterwidow #angst

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twelvesignsrp · 7 years

Photo

congratulations sav, aries is now kieran campbell with the faceclaim dudley o’shaughnessy !

APPLICATION

Character Sign: Aries

Character name: Kieran Campbell Birthday: 04/02/1997 Sexuality: Homosexual Gender: Cisgender Male Moon Sign: Capricorn Faceclaim: Dudley O’Shaugnessy Power: Fire Manipulation – He can only manipulate fire, not create it, so he carries a lighter with him in order to spark a flame when needed. He’s still not the best at controlling this ability yet, so it takes an intense amount of concentration on his part to keep the fire from going haywire. This, as you might imagine, takes a considerable toll on him. Usually after only a few minutes of continuous use his knees get wobbly and his head starts to spin.

Secondary ability (from the sudden power up): Enhanced charisma. Fire signs have incredibly large personalities and, just like the element they represent, can be very charming and magnetic, drawing people into their area of influence. This added ability allows Kieran to subtly persuade others to see his opinion/take his side. It’s not an exact science, and some people seem to be more susceptible than others. Of course, he can’t persuade someone to jump out of a window or hand him a million dollars. His natural born charisma is only slightly heightened, giving him a mild edge when it comes to things like: suggesting that the librarian allow him to check out more books/research materials than is usually allowed, convincing the chef at his favorite restaurant that an item that’s no longer on the menu should be reintroduced, etc.

What do they study?: Kieran is a law student

Biography:

T H E N

Kieran Campbell grew up in Edinburgh, Scotland. His father was a respected incumbent member of the Scottish Parliament, his mother a devoted homemaker and caregiver. From a young age, his parents impressed upon him three essential traits that, they believed, were the key to success: Ambition, Excellence, Dominance.

[First, ambition. Do nothing without enthusiasm, charisma, and innovation. Do not drag your feet. Motivate yourself. Be an example. A leader. Do not wait to be asked. Anticipate. Outrun, outgun, and outperform those around you. Do not settle for average, because in this world, average is a death sentence. Averagewon’t get you noticed. Average won’t pay your bills. Average won’t get you anywhere.

Next, excellence. Do not attempt something unless you’re aiming to be the best – anything less is wasting your time. Do not accept participation trophies or consolation prizes: they’re symbols of your defeat, your inability to be number one. “Trying” is only an excuse created by those who cannot do. Who cannot achieve. “Trying” means nothing. Winning means everything.

Last, dominance. Do not pity those below you. Do not give charity or handouts. The only thing separating them from you is that you made it and they did not. You’re on top because you deserve to be, so show no mercy. Take what you want. Take what is owed. Lead. Delegate. Do not apologize. Do not offer excuses or justifications for your greatness.]

Kieran was a model son. Top of his class every year, head of every committee or club he could join, and an exceptional athlete. His parents took him out to society dinners and exclusive functions and paraded him around, singing his praises to anyone who would listen. He lived for it. The attention. The recognition. It became an addiction, a fix that he craved. To be applauded and told “Yes. Yes, this is life and you are doing it right. You’re going to go places young man, I already know it. You’re such a smart boy. Such a winner.”

By the time he was halfway through secondary school, there wasn’t a soul in his school that didn’t know his name. The faculty, the staff, the students: they all watched him walk by with the same look – equal parts awe and fear. He was a rising football star, the best player in his league. He carried his club team with ease, winning every match. He practiced on the pitch for hours each day after class, honing his skills. Perfecting his form. He was guaranteed a scholarship at this point to any school of his choosing. He was going to be able to take his pick: a feat not even his father had boasted.

Things were perfect.

He was perfect.

But a house of cards can only be stacked so high before its own weight becomes too much to bear.

His last year of school before applying to university, he met a boy. A boy who didn’t care who his father was. A boy who wasn’t impressed by his grades or his skills or his good looks. A boy who saw through the arrogance. The confidence. A boy who drank whiskey out of water bottles and doodled on his bare, white skin with permanent marker. A boy who called him late at night to ask questions he couldn’t answer and spin pipe dreams he could never have (dreams he couldn’t hope to want, no matter how badly he ached for them). A boy with dark hair and green eyes who kissed him one day on the train and shattered every little piece of him.

His grades started to slip. He started lying to his parents, sneaking out at night for midnight rendezvous. People began to notice, especially after he started skipping football practice. To stave off suspicion, he started dating a petite little blonde who smiled when he opened doors for her and put a napkin in her lap when she ate. Her face would crumple every time he told her he was too busy to hang out after school, but he never felt bad.

Three months after he met the boy, the two of them drove Kieran’s father’s luxury sedan over a median and straight into a light pole.

Kieran doesn’t remember much, after that, except pain and, even more agonizing: regret.

There’s two surgeries to repair his left leg. Metal plates and screws and physical therapy. He finishes out the rest of the year from home, his parents… disinclined to let him anywhere near that school again. The house is like a prison, silent and sharp with disappointment. His father won’t speak to him. His mother cries every time he hobbles by her on his crutches.

Climbing his way back to the top is exhausting, but he throws himself at it with renewed drive. He studies for hours. Does extra credit. His phone rings and rings and rings, some days, and he locks it away in his sock drawer because he can’t look at the caller ID without feeling like he’s back in that car again, hot blood running down his cheek and pain searing white hot through his lower body. Eventually, he takes out his SIM card and throws it away in the trash bin out back.

He graduates. But he’s not number one. And it stings, even though he’s expecting it. Without a chance for a sports scholarship and with his lackluster finish to the year, only a handful of universities contact him back, and none of them are up to his family’s standards.

His father pays for a spot at Durham.

N O W

Kieran knows what’s at stake, now. He’s already screwed up once: there won’t be any second chances. After the scandal (“Unlicensed Teen Son of Prominent Scottish Parliament Leader and Friend Collide with Light Pole After Drunk Driving Escapade, No Causalities”) his chances of following in his father’s footsteps were all but destroyed, but a career in law is just as respectable, and he really doesn’t mind the subject all that much. Durham is his only hope to salvage his reputation and his strained relationship with his father, and he’s not going to let anything distract him.

(Not even magic, he tells himself as the flame from the candle on his desk flickers and grows with a wave of his hand.)

Five interesting facts about your character:

Kieran is stressed, repressed, and overdressed like, always. He appreciates good fashion.

He loves pickles.

He still watches football matches, even if it’s a painful reminder of the future he could have had.

He doesn’t talk to anyone from Edinburgh anymore besides his parents, preferring to bury his past and move on rather than dwell on his mistakes.

While he’s still as determined and stubborn as ever, his drive is largely born out of desperation, now. He’s secretly terrified of making another mistake.

Character Quote: “Cause I fuck with myself more than anybody else.” – BANKS (“Fuck With Myself”)

If your character had a patronus what would it be? and why?: Komodo Dragon. These dragons have been around for centuries. Just like Kieran, they know the value of staying power. They’re patient and meticulous hunters and doggedly pursue their prey, sometimes for hundreds of miles, until their stubbornness is rewarded. Komodo dragons are often associated with fire, as many believe they can secretly breathe flames.

WRITING SAMPLE

He’s got one hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle of whiskey and the other is gripping your thigh, squeezing so hard he’s sure to leave bruises. You take your eyes off the road to look at him. He’s slouched down in the passenger seat, an unlit cigarette hanging between his lips. His eyes catch the light of neon shop signs as you pass and you can’t help but wonder how something so beautiful, so mysterious, looked at you and saw anything but a fraud. An empty, hollow vessel that’d been stuffed full to the brim with the thoughts and expectations of others.

“C’mon. Lemme drive.”

You pull over onto the shoulder and the two of you swap spots, shimming one at a time over the middle console so you don’t have to get out in the cold and circle around to the other side of the car. You take the bottle and he starts the engine. He slams his foot down on the accelerator, merging back onto the highway as you take a swig of whiskey, grimacing at the burn. He looks over at you and smiles, amused, and you smile back, helpless.

He turns his attention to the speedometer, eyes alight with chaos and exhilaration as it steadily climbs higher, and you lean over to turn on the radio.

“Oh, shit!”

You don’t even have time to blink. Your outstretched hand, frozen halfway between your body and the dash, is the last thing you remember. (The image lives beneath your eyelids, now, and every time you close your eyes you see it.)

You wake up, briefly, after the dust has settled, but all you recognize is pain, white hot agony tracing its way down your spin. Something hot and sticky drips from your nose. Your lips.

You hear him, screaming himself hoarse beside you, but you don’t know what he wants, so you close your eyes.

(You find out, later, that it was a dog. A dog, crossing the road.)

ANYTHING ELSE?

My favorite color is green! Thank ya’ll again for the generous reserve!!! (Also, just so there’s no confusion, the football I refer to here is the European football – so, soccer!)

#aries #accepted #we got a full set!!! ahhh!!!!!

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thedarkrose17 · 7 years

Text

Finally updated accidental parents so you can read it here or on the link. I'm nervous about tagging it so I'm not gonna :(

Like I've not been doing great so I'm nervous this is a shit update.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10040831/chapters/26478633

You can read it under the cut

Keith woke up first, glancing at Lance before carefully climbing out of bed with their son in his arms.

He yawned and headed out of the room, waking Liam up as he did.

“Daddy?” the small child muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Where are we?”

Keith gently brushed some of the little boy’s raven bedhead from his face.

Keith switched Galra and scratched at one of his purple ears.

“Outside our room. We have something really important to do ok?”

“...Too early daddy.” Liam whined, gripping onto Keith and burying his face against Keith’s chest.

“I know it is. But the quicker we do this, the quicker we can go back to bed ok?” Keith said with a yawn.

It was dark aboard the ship, save for a few dim lights in the hallway. It had to be around midnight if he was guessing.

“It's an important day today.” Keith muttered.

“It is?” Liam asked, glancing up at him.

“It's papa’s birthday.” Keith replied with a smile. “I figured we should start on the surprise.”

He notice Liam smile in the darkness, noticing that he'd switched too.

“So are you helping daddy?” he asked, earning a nod from Liam. * * * They made their way to the kitchen,their ears twitching as they heard someone in there.

Keith slowly turned the corner, peeking into the room hearing a gasp as he did.

“Quiznak...It's just you, Galra Keith.”

“Hunk?” Keith headed into the kitchen,Liam yawning in his arms. “What are-” he paused and yawned, showing fangs as he did. “...You doing here?”

“Making a cake for Lance...I couldn't relax.” Hunk replied. “You two?”

“We were gonna help decorate.”

“Shiro got some party supplies at the space mall...Well craft stuff from one of the stores.” Hunk stretched.

“Where-”

“Dining room table.” Hunk said with smile. “Just careful of Pidge there. She's programming some lights in there.”

“Lights?”

“Yeah. She didn't say what she's making them do.” Hunk shrugged. “We'll find out soon enough.

“Anyone else awake?” Keith asked looking down at Liam who was struggling to stay awake.

“Shiro and Allura are making a big birthday card together. They'll come around at some point for us to sign it...And Coran is getting our presents for him. He's the only one who knows where they was hidden.”

Hunk seemed excited which made Keith smile.

“So everyone except Lance is awake?” Keith asked with a small chuckle.

“Pretty much.”

“Will papa like the pwess-ents?” Liam asked sleepily.

“He'll love them.” Hunk replied with a smile, heading over to ruffle the tiny Galra boy’s hair. * * * Keith put Liam down, holding his hand as the pair headed to the dining room.

Keith yawned wide, fangs fully showing. He rubbed an eye moments later.

He wasn't sure how long it had been since he'd talked to Hunk but he was getting more tired by the minute.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?” Keith glanced down at him.

“I gotta go...I'm scared.” Liam said.

“Of the dark?” Keith asked earning a nod from the small boy.

He smiled tiredly, leaning down and picking him up.

“Ok bathroom first. Then we have to get started on a banner for papa ok?”

“Ok.” Liam replied leaning his head against the crook of Keith’s neck as he gripped onto his shirt.

Keith switched directions, heading towards the bathroom with his son. He almost, in his tired state bumped into Coran as he walked past.

Coran smiled at him, noticing how tired Keith and the child looked.

“You look exhausted Keith. Maybe you should both get some rest.”

Keith smiled tiredly, putting Liam down and letting him head off to the nearby bathroom.

“I'll be right here ok? You'll be safe I swear.” Keith muttered to the child as he headed into the bathroom before turning to Coran.

“I'll be fine. I'll take him to bed soon.” Keith stretched. “We're just gonna do the banner and then go….” he trailed off, blinking a few times before rubbing at his eyes.

“I need to finish it and we've not even started yet.” Keith sighed.

“Just remember to actually get some rest.” Coran said. “Falling asleep during the celebration tomorrow probably will concern Lance.”

Keith nodded and leaned against the wall.

“I promise I will.” * * * When they started on the banner it was maybe around an Earth hour later. Honestly he had no idea.

Keith slumped against the banner as he wrote with a red crayon “Happy Birthday Lance.” and Liam hunched over the banner with a purple crayon, lied on the table.

Keith glanced over at Liam and smiled weakly.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked curiously.

“Drawing.”

“And what are you drawing?” Keith paused and watched the little boy, who had his tongue stuck out as he drew.

“Papa and Blue.” Liam replied

“Can I see?”

Liam nodded after a few minutes once he'd finished it and showed off the drawing.

This child was going to be the end of him. It was adorable. He smiled looking at the cute doodle, a small Lance and a giant adorable cat, both coloured outside of the lines but precious either way.

Keith ruffled Liam’s hair.

“It's nice. Really nice.” he said, smiling more as Liam’s eyes lit up.

“Can I draw more?”

“Sure just draw on here ok?”

Keith handed him some paper, watching as the child drew people.

“Who's this gonna be?” Keith asked.

“Papa’s mommy and daddy...I think.” the child looked confused. “I don't know what they look like.”

Keith stared at him, he was sure this child, his son was trying to kill him with cuteness.

“Wait. Hold on. Lance has a photo on his phone of them. I'll go get it. You can draw them on the banner if you want...Just wait until I have the photo ok?”

The boy nodded and Keith headed out of the room tripping over Pidge as he did.

“Ugh…” he grumbled and pushed himself up, looking at the girl who's lap he'd just moments ago fell across.

“Watch it!” she hissed. “You almost ruined the coding.”

“Pidge what the fuck.” he huffed. “I almost smashed my face against the floor…Why are you sat on the fucking floor in the dark?”

“Sorry...It's easier than the table...Since it's cluttered.” she replied, quickly typing. “Are you ok?”

“...Yeah I'm fine.” Keith huffed, standing up. “Least I'm more awake now.”

“What are you doing?” she asked, glancing up at him.

“Getting Lance’s phone. Liam wants to draw his family.”

Pidge smiled, going back to typing.

“Cute.”

“Tell me about it.” Keith muttered. “He's killing me.”

Pidge snorted.

“I never thought you'd be weak when it came to kids. You're basically one of those dads who walk around with everything their kid has done in their wallet and show anyone they can.”

He blushed violet, his fluffy ears drooping slightly in embarrassment.

“You're not denying it.” she teased.

“So...Lights...You're not making it make Nessie right?...I don't think we need to know how desperate you are for her.” he muttered with a smirk.

“Zip it Mothman fucker.” she replied , smirking as he snorted.

She noticed his expression change and him begin to blush.

“I'm kinkshaming you...Cryptid furry.” she muttered.

She noticed his “what the fuck” expression and tried not to laugh.

“You considered it, I could tell by your face and I'm not letting you forget that.” she stated with a smirk.

“I'm leaving.” he replied, folding his arms and heading back to his and Lance’s room. * * * He glanced at Lance as he carefully took his phone, smiling at him weakly.

“I'm just borrowing this okay? I'll bring it back.” he whispered, kissing Lance’s head and practically dashing out of the room with a crimson face.

He groaned and glanced at the phone,fiddling with it until he found the photos.

He headed back to Liam and clicked on photo with the family with Lance and smiled. He'd never experienced a complete family before acquiring a child with Lance. He only had Shiro.

Now he knew how nice it felt having a fuller family, having a family and could imagine now how much Lance missed his.

“Here. That's them all.” Keith muttered placing the phone down and watching as the child began to draw them on the banner.

“Who's that?” Liam asked over and over as he drew, pointing to each family member.

“That's his mom and his dad and your grandparents...I don't know what she's like...I don't know what any of them are like. I've never met them.” he pointed.

“And those two?” Liam asked pointing at a older girl and a man.

“That's his sister and brother.”

Liam pointed at a woman and man.

“It's his aunt and uncle.” Keith replied with a smile.

The child pointed to an old couple.

“That's his grandparents and your great grandparents.” Keith replied.

Liam pointed at a little girl and a little boy, looking at Keith and waiting for his answer.

“His niece and that little boy is Lance.”

Liam paused his drawing for a moment and looked at Keith with his eyes lighting up.

“That's papa?”

Keith nodded and smiled.

“He was older than you on this. He's cute huh?”

Liam giggled and went back to drawing. * * * Once the banner was done Keith put it up, which took longer than he cared to admit.

Then he and Liam signed the card Allura brought around. After that he didn't remember anything. * * * “Keith.” was what woke up him up. He blinked and realised he had somehow made it back to bed with Liam.

Maybe Shiro carried him back.

“Keith. Are you awake?” Lance. It was Lance who was looking at him and poking his arm.

“No.” Keith groaned and rolled over, back to him.

“Aww Kei.” Lance muttered, wrapping his arms around him and nuzzling him.

Keith laughed tiredly and rolled over to face him.

“Five more minutes. I was up late.” he muttered.

Lance kissed his nose.

“Gross. You have really bad morning breath.” Lance muttered.

“Thanks.” Keith huffed, closing his eyes. “You asked me out. Deal with it.” he smirked and nuzzled Lance’s chest slightly. * * * Hunk burst in at...Well Keith didn't know what time it was but he grumbled, burying his face against Lance.

Lance sat up, Liam clinging sleepily to his side looking between the two.

Lance smiled at Hunk.

“You know what day it is today Hunk~?” Lance practically sang.

Hunk nodded and smiled, taking a breath and singing happy birthday making Lance grin.

Keith slowly pulled away from Lance and joined it, making the two boys look at him.

“Stop. You sing like an delicate angel.” he muttered, kissing Keith’s cheek. “You'll make me cry.”

Lance looked over at Hunk and smirked.

“Continue my love.” he joked, making a kiss noise at him making Hunk smirk as he continued to sing.

Liam joined in, an adorable tiny voice which managed to make both Hunk and Lance tear up.

Keith stared and smiled, keeping it together better than Hunk and Lance.

Lance hugged their son and smiled, kissing his head.

“You're so cute.” he muttered,making the little boy giggle.

Hunk came over dragging Lance into a one armed hug, his other hid behind his back.

Lance grinned and hugged him tightly.

“So...What's behind your back big guy?”

Hunk rolled his eyes and smiled as he pulled away, slowly revealing breakfast. Or what Lance assumed was breakfast. It was some new dish he'd never seen Hunk prepare before.

“Breakfast in bed. It's a big enough serving so you can share if you want.” Hunk replied with a grin.

Lance bit his lip trying his hardest not to cry.

“Thank you.”

“Don't thank me yet.” Hunk replied with a smile, turning and leaving. “Enjoy.” * * * Breakfast was shared with Liam. Keith insisting he didn't want any but still stealing from the bowl when he got the chance.

“You said you didn't want any.” Lance muttered, glancing at him.

“I do-” he burped, turning red as Lance looked at him. “...Nt.”

Lance snorted,laughing moments later as Liam began to giggle.

“Aww baby~ You're comfortable around me.” Lance joked.

“Shut up.” Keith replied, face still red.

“Just a burp babe. Not like I've not heard it before.” Lance muttered with a smirk.

The raven haired boy stared at him, turning redder.

“When you was sick.” Lance elaborated. “Threw up on me and later cried. That last part kinda broke me.”

“I don't remember that.” Keith replied, looking confused.

“You had a fever. Probably a really bad one.”

Keith looked down, blush dying down.

“Seriously though. Don't feel embarrassed around me. You don't need to be.” Lance smiled and kissed his cheek, blushing as he did.

Keith groaned and covered his face.

Lance changed the subject quickly.

“Maybe just stop sleeping in this. It's gross.” Lance muttered, tugging on the black shirt. “You train in this.”

“Fine. I'll stop.” Keith muttered, leaning against Lance.

“Papa?”

“Yeah kiddo?” Lance glanced at him.

“I saw a light.”

“Light?” Lance asked, noticing the door closing and seeing someone small run before it did.

“Pidge.” Keith muttered. “She took photo huh?”

“That gremlin.” Lance muttered, scowling. * * * It took a little longer to get up, due to the fact they'd fell back asleep.

The young couple, curled up together.

Lance with his chin against Keith’s thick raven hair and his arms around his waist.

Keith with his face mushed against Lance's chest, mouth wide open. He'd abandoned his shirt and rested his fists against Lance's collarbone.

Liam was mushed between the pair, slowly waking up.

“Daddy?”he asked sleepily, poking Keith in the arm.

Keith stirred and yawned, rolling onto his back to give Liam some freedom to crawl out from in between them.

“Yeah?” Keith replied , waking Lance in the process.

“Do you have a mommy and daddy?”

“I don't know my birth mom. I was adopted.” Keith said, yawning.

“You were?” Lance asked.

“Yeah...Shiro’s my older brother.”

Lance stared at him and Liam looked confused.

“What's adop-ted?” the child asked.

“You're Shiro’s little brother?!” Lance almost yelled. “Why did you never say?”

“Never came up.” Keith replied. “And adopted is like when someone kinda makes you a permanent member of their family.”

“I had a crush on him.” Lance whined,blushing. “...Like a celebrity dumb one that fizzles out.”

“Why?...He was kind of a dork.” Keith rolled his eyes, sitting up on the bed.

Lance shrugged.

“I don't wanna talk about it.” Lance muttered, clearly embarrassed.

Keith smirked and tried to muffle a laugh against his fist.

“You do realise now I know Shiro is your brother I can get all sorts of embarrassing stories from him.” Lance said with a smirk.

“You wouldn't.”

“Try me~” Lance said, quickly dashing out of bed and rushing out of the room.

“Lance do-” Keith sighed, turning red. * * * Lance headed towards the dining room, Keith catching up to him and holding Liam’s hand as the child sleepily followed.

“Do you think everyone else forgot?” Lance sounded upset.

Keith looked at him, biting his lip as he did.

“Why would you think that?”

“Cause no one except you and Hunk has said about my birth-”

Lance paused as he entered the dining room, having a “Surprise!” shouted at him by all of his team.

He jumped, looking around the room, noticing a large banner and blue balloons put up. He actually full on sobbed, hiccuping a “Thank you.” over and over. * * * After that they'd all given him a big group hug and Coran had given him his presents.

He'd still been crying at this point, a huge smile on his face as he opened each present.

Lance headed to the banner, choking up again as he did.

“We did the banner together.” Keith stated, holding Liam up.

“I drew you and Blue.” Liam said happily.

“And my family.” Lance muttered, touching the drawings before quickly turning around and tightly hugging Liam and Keith.

Tears dripped onto Keith as Lance hugged him, making Keith concerned for a second.

“They're happy tears, mullet. Don't freak out.” Lance muttered causing Keith to huff. * * * Afterwards Hunk brought in a cake with Blue on it with an unusual what Lance thought was a candle sticking out of it.

It seemed to be the alien equivalent of a sparkler.

Lance grinned, tears dripping down his face as everyone sang “happy birthday.” Allura and Coran looking a little confused as they did. * * * Keith hadn't seen the cake iced and honestly he'd been staring at it for what felt like hours after Lance had blown it out until it was cut.

When he'd been handed a slice he almost felt bad for eating it. It looked too nice to eat. Well that had been his mindset before he and Lance had ate too much.

Currently he was with Lance on the couch, lying down with his head against Lance’s lap.

He glanced at Liam who was playing with Cuddles the plush bat on the floor.

Lance was slumped back into the couch, occasionally complaining about feeling sick.

Hunk and Pidge was on the other couch, Pidge on her laptop and Hunk trying to distract Keith and Lance from their situation.

It seemed hopeless as Keith was almost fighting to stay awake.

Shiro, Allura and Coran was nearby, the alteans seeming to litter Shiro with questions about human celebrations.

Keith had one ear rested against Lance’s stomach, grimacing as he heard it whine. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily,trying to ignore it. * * * He must have dozed off because something woke him up. Scratching.

Lance had been scratching a lavender ear. He wasn't sure when he'd switched Galra. But he didn't mind. It was nice.

He leaned in closer to Lance’s stomach, letting out a sleepy purr as he did. The other ear flicked wildly and he smiled, still keeping his eyes closed.

Keith nuzzled his face against Lance’s stomach. Too sleepy to take note of what he was doing. Mostly he was trying to sleep off the sickly full feeling he was experiencing.

But unfortunately as he was half asleep something jolted him awake.

He practically gagged when he heard a surprisingly loud belch, covering his sensitive Galra ears and slowly sitting up.

Lance glanced at him and winced in sympathy.

Liam giggled, Pidge and Hunk looked at Lance in surprise.

“Sorry for waking you up, Kei.” he muttered as Keith flopped back down on Lance’s lap.

“S’alright.” Keith muttered, rubbing an eye.

“You was kinda rubbing your head against my stomach...I-”

“It's fine Lance.”

He was going to go back to stroking Keith’s hair until something stopped him.

A sort of high pitched squeaking sound. He looked around looking confused. He noticed Hunk and Pidge do the same thing.

“Maybe it's one of the mice in the vents.” Pidge muttered.

Hunk shrugged.

“Are you sure that's a mouse?”

Lance opened his mouth to speak but paused as the sound stopped. He noticed a certain someone tense against his lap and glanced down.

He snorted at the other teenager's bright red face and wide eyes, which stared up at him in horror. Moments later Lance burst out laughing.

Liam looked up at his papa with confusion. Even Pidge and Hunk looked confused.

“The barrier….Has been….Broken.” Lance announced between laughing.

“Lance!” Keith hissed, covering his face.

“Gross.” Pidge groaned and went back to her laptop.

Hunk laughed slightly as he watched the pair.

“You feel comfortable enough to-”

Keith reached up and covered his mouth.

“Don't fucking announce it to everyone.” he hissed quietly, face bright red.

“It's not really announcing when everyone heard.” Lance muttered with a snort. His voice muffled by Keith’s hand.

The paladin groaned and let go of him, burying his face against Lance's chest.

Lance chuckled and gently patted Keith’s head.

“Aww Kei.” he kissed his head and smirked. “And just when I was thinking you was some sort of alien robot.”

“I'm gonna kill you.” Keith muttered, gripping onto Lance’s shirt. His voice was muffled but held no edge to it and looking down Lance could spot a small part of a smile against Keith’s red face.

“Daddy isn't a robot.” Liam spoke up. “He just waits until you get up papa.”

Lance looked down and snorted, noticing Keith had tensed again.

“That so?” Lance muttered.

“He looks like he wants the ground to absorb him.” Pidge said, gesturing to Keith.

Hunk agreed noticing Lance lie down and practically dragging the galra teen down with him. Keith seemed startled at first but quickly relaxed and sighed against his chest.

Lance smiled and kissed his head gesturing Liam over.

The small child climbed onto the couch, climbing over to Lance’s side. He gripped onto Lance’s shirt and smiled when he received a kiss on the head.

“Thanks guys. I...I didn't expect you all to do this.” Lance spoke up.

“You didn't expect a birthday party?” Hunk asked, looking upset. “Lance we'd throw you one wherever we were.”

“Yeah totally!” Pidge said with a cat like grin. “We wouldn't forget about it.”

“We all care about you. Don't forget that.” Keith muttered.

“We love you papa.” Liam smiled and gave Lance a hug.

Keith looked up at Lance, leaning up and kissing his cheek quickly.

“Nuh uh mullet. I need a little more than that.”

Keith looked confused until Lance pulled him up into a kiss. He froze, his eyes wide and his face scarlet for a few moments before he finally closed his eyes and kissed back.

The couple heard a cheer from Pidge and Hunk. Finally the boys had their first kiss, successfully.

Lance pulled away a few moments later, smiling down at their son and giving Keith a gentle squeeze.

“About time that happened huh kiddo?” Lance asked, Liam giggled and nodded.

“Should I make a cake for this?” Hunk asked with a smirk.

Keith switched back human and turned green.

“Don't mention cake for a few days.” he muttered, Lance agreeing.

“Not our fault you both ate too much.” Pidge spoke up.

“It was cute. They was practically feeding each other.” Hunk said with a smile.

Lance blushed and looked at Keith, who gave him a quick nervous kiss.

“Love you.” he muttered, smiling at him.

“Love you too gassy.” Lance replied with a snort, making Keith sit up, move away to the furthest of the couch and scowl.

Liam giggled.

“Kei no. Come back!” Lance whined. “You're warm and I love you.”

Keith huffed and folded his arms.

“I'm sorry...Don't be mad at me on my birthday.” Lance sat up and crawled over to him, smirking slightly.

Lance kneeled up and wrapped his arms tightly around Keith. He smiled when the red paladin leaned into them, Lance noticed Keith was smiling at this point.

“Happy birthday sharpshooter.” he muttered, tilting his head back to kiss Lance’s jaw.

#darkrose17writes

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chanzicoup · 7 years

Text

“Little Things” (SVT Dino x Reader Imagine)

A/N: Not requested but I feel guilty for never posting recently so I'm going to try and be more productive on this blog.

Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff

Request Regulations

~Blake

Your boyfriend Dino had just graduated from high school and he was going to have a get together with the other members before spending time with you at your place. You were just a grade below him, meaning your graduation isn't for another year. He had texted you a few minutes ago to tell you that he should be heading to your house at around six, which was only two hours from now.

"I have to let mom know." Your mother approved of Dino, mainly because she was close friends with his mother and knew he was a good person but your father wouldn't admit it, it was just because he saw you as his little girl and thought no one was good enough for you. It took a lot for him to get used to Dino being around and his only condition was that you and Dino couldn't be in your bedroom with the door shut. He trusted you and even trusted Dino thanks to your mother convincing him. You went downstairs to find your mother cooking dinner and your father flipping through the channels on the couch.

"Hi Mom! Hi Daddy!" You gave your father a kiss on the cheek and your mother a side hug. Your father cleared his throat and muted the TV.

"What do you want?" He joked. You rolled your eyes and chuckled before answering.

"Nothing! I just came down here to let you guys know Dino is coming over in a couple hours."

"Ah, that's right. Good thing I made an extra serving. It's his graduation today isn't it?" Your mom asked from the stove.

"Yes, but I don't think you need to make more food. He is having a get together with his band members before coming over so he's probably going to be full." You explained. Your father scoffed from the couch.

"A man needs to eat to be strong! How can he take care of you if he's weak?" There goes your father, he was only poking fun with very little seriousness.

"Dad, I can take care of myself with out a man doing it for me!" HECK YEA TO FEMINISM.

"And that's exactly ho we raised you, isn't that right honey?"

"Ugh I hate it when you guys make a point," laughed your father. You understood that he was lucky to have a good boy be with his daughter, teenagers are usually too irresponsible and inexperienced to hold a happy relationship. That was clearly not Dino, which is why your father hasn't forbidden you two.

"Oh stop, we are just going to watch a movie anyway. I have to grab a quick shower before he comes over, see you guys at dinner!" You went back upstairs and did what you said you were going to do and changed out of your uniform into a pair of leggings and a gray t-shirt. When you came back downstairs to wait for Dino you found dinner in containers and a pink sticky note on the counter.

'Your father had to go back to work and won't be back until midnight. I went to your aunt's house to give Dino and you privacy. Don't do anything you'd regret and if you do something BE SAFE! We trust you! Love, Mom."

"Oh my gosh, Mom!" You exclaimed, you never were interested in... such activities.... and your parents knew that. Maybe they just liked to mess with you? Let's just say it worked because your cheeks were red and goosebumps covered your skin.

Your phone beeped from the counter and you saw it was a message from Dino.

‘I'll be there in 10 ;)’

You used that time to set up the couch and blankets and pillows from the closet. The you took three movies out from your selection, all of which you thought Dino would like to watch. You had set them on your coffee table along with a couple glasses of fruit punch and the dinner your mom had made. Just moments later your door bell rang.

"Perfect timing." You said as you stood to open the door. When you did you felt arms wrap around you and a head burrow into your neck.

"Babe!" You squealed, Dino knew your neck was very sensitive and his hair tickled you when he did this. He loved your laugh, especially when he's the cause of it.

"I missed you!" He pecked your cheek before panicking a bit and stepping off.

"Did your parents see that?" He knew your parents liked him but he still was too shy to do PDA in front of others.

"They went out. My father had work to do and my mother is at my aunts house." He nodded in understanding and looked at the couch.

"Woah, did you do this?"

"Yeah, my mother made us dinner before leaving and I thought it would be nice if we watched a movie before you had to head back to the dorm." You grabbed his hand and sat him down on the couch.

"You didn't have to do all of this, babe." He was shocked at the effort you put into making everything perfect, in fact, it made him feel bad that he wasn't here to do it with you.

"It wasn't much trouble. Now pick a movie so we can start." You handed him the three CD's and he scrolled through them like they were his hand of cards.

"This one." He held up 'A Werewolf Boy' and set the other two back down.

"Ok, I'll put it in." You gotten up to begin the movie when Dino was about to stop you. He wanted to do something for you since you did all of this for him but he had no idea how to work your TV and didn't want to look stupid or possibly mess up your TV completely so he sat back and settled into the couch.

"There." You pressed play and the title screen popped up. Dino opened up his arms for you to rest in and when you made yourself comfortable in his embrace he pulled a blanket over you both to trap the heat your bodies radiated.

You smiled into the hug and placed your hand on his leg, something that was normal of you two. He kissed your forehead and set his chin on the tip of your head. You two stayed like this for almost half of the movie.

Dino couldn't focus. It wasn't because he was nervous or uncomfortable or anything like that. No, it was something more that bothered him. He felt like an awful boyfriend, he rarely made time for you and when you both were together you had always done more than he had. For at least the last couple of months he had been too busy with school and Seventeen to really do something for you.

He even had to postpone your birthday celebrations because they fell during finals week. You didn't mind it at all, after all he was a celebrity. You knew what you were walking into when your started dating him. You knew he meant no harm and would do anything to be with you instead of answering math equations or translating from Korean to English for at least two weeks out of the final semester of high school. He just felt like he wasn't showing you how much you meant to him, he needed to do something.

As you laid in his chest you accidentally fell asleep, giving him a chance to do something he wanted to do for a while. He removed the blanket from your bodies and began rearranging you so your arms wrapped around his neck and he could carry you bridal style, but unfortunately the movement woke you up and you asked him what he was doing.

"I'm bringing you to bed, go back to sleep, babe." He pulled your head into his nape and lucky for him you closed your eyes again and your soft breathing told him you fell asleep again. Then he proceeded to bring you to your bed and closed your door behind him.

Dino took his phone out of his pocket and texted Jun to ask if he could do him a favor.

'Sure, what is it?' Jun responded.

'In my room there is a shoe box under my bed and an empty sketch book on my desk. Can you bring them to Y/N's house for me?'

'Okay, what's in the box?'

'Secret! Please don't look at it, hyung...'

Dino knew Jun would look into it but it wouldn't hurt to ask. He went back into the living room and successfully shut off the TV before cleaning up. He only had a few minutes before Jun would be here since the dorm was only a couple blocks away.

All he needed now was tape, which he thinks he saw in the kitchen on the counter. He gathered different supplies like markers and stickers. When Jun arrived he punched Dino in the arm.

"You sly dog!" Obviously Jun looked into the box and completely ignored Dino's wish. He had pictures from the dates you guys had been on, and not only that there were little mementoes from each one. Movie tickets, dried flowers from your walks in the park, and even some receipts from dinners you guys went on. It was like a time capsule of some sort.

"Whatever, now that you know will you help me?" Dino asked.

"I got your back, what are you planning on doing?" Dino explained his surprise for you and Jun nearly "fanboyed".

"That's so cute! Now I know why you didn't ask Jeonghan to do this, he would've gotten all ooey gooey."

"Exactly, now we have to hurry. I don't know how much longer Y/N will still be asleep."

The two boys began cutting and pasting in the decorations and using their vary limited calligraphy skills to write in messages and draw doodles. Eventually everything came together nicely and the scrapbook was complete just as the clock struck 10:00. There was even a bunch of extra pages to fill up with even more date you and Dino would have.

"Well, that's all the pictures. I have to get back to the dorms now, don't be back too late!" Jun warned as he closed the door behind him. Dino nodded and brought the book upstairs and stood at your door. He got a little nervous to show you what he made, he's never done anything like this before.

"I have to do this. For her." He gained up his courage and quietly opened your bedroom door to find you sleeping still. He went in and sat next to you, pushing the strand of hair out of your eyes. You fidgeted a bit and opened your eyes a little.

"Hey, baby, time to wake up." He cooed, you sat up and looked at him in a daze and leaned you head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You murmured.

"For what, babe?" He questioned.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep, we were hanging out." You pouted. He chuckled and rubbed your back.

"No worries, I am actually kind of glad you fell asleep. It gave me time to make this for you." He put the book in your lap and you traced your fingers over the creased in the leather.

"What's this?" You asked.

"It's a scrapbook I made for you. Look inside." He gestured. You opened the book to read 'Our Memories' in back marker with a pink heart drawn with LC + Y/N in the center along with random drawings in the blanks on the title page.

You flipped through the pages and smiled when you realized they were of everything you two had done together.

The pictures from photo booths you two had used, the flowers from parks, the movie tickets from the films you two just had to see, love notes you left in each others book bags to find when you opened a notebook or your pencil cases. It was all there. Every little thing Dino remembered that was in relation to you. It brought happy tears to your eyes.

"Thank you so much." You set the book to the side and hugged Dino tightly, kissing his cheek.

"I wanted to give you something to let you know I love you." He whispered. Neither of you two had said those words before, it seemed like an adult thing.

You smiled and felt the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

"I love you too."

#kpop #svt #seventeen #lee chan #dino #seventeen imagine #kpop imagine #seventeen scenario #seventeen dino

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