#and probably more banana bread haha
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and so the holiday baking begins! my dear old dad asked me to make banana bread for him to give to his friends at his church for christmas. so i made eight loaves today haha
#food#bread#banana bread#good way to kick off the holiday baking fest lol#will also be making a few hundred oreo truffles to give out as gifts to fam & friends#and a few dozen oatmeal date cookies#and a few dozen chocolate chip cookies#and probably more banana bread haha
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her heart isn't gone
A/N: this is literally just a bunch of drabbles put into one post :') and yes, maybe i was listening to his car isn't yours on repeat as i worked on this. i haven't written in awhile so i'm a little rusty but i can't keep editing this so sorry for any inconsistencies.
Words: 8.6k (haha whoops!)
Emily briskly makes her way toward the cafe near the hotel, hoping to get a chance at a pastry. She could feel the sun warming her back and she regrets the blazer thrown over her longsleeve. It was peak summer and the team arrived in Carmel late last night so the heat hadn’t set in yet. Now that she feels the heat early this morning, she wonders how much warmer it can get.
She tugs on the cafe door, the smell of freshly baked goods surrounding her. Her mouth waters and her stomach rumbles as she considers the different options.
Lemon blueberry muffin, almond croissant, cheese strudel, banana bread…
She decides on the lemon blueberry muffin but just as she’s about to ask for it, she watches as they take the last one and place it into a bag. Her eyes follow, seeing them hand it over to a woman at the register and sighs.
Emily makes her way to the front and glances at the coffee menu. “Hi, one salted cream vanilla latte and an almond croissant, please.”
Once she pays, she steps off to the side and pulls out her phone to check for any messages.
JJ (5:53 AM):
Is anyone up for a run?
Morgan (6:03 AM):
Sorry, some of us have already finished our workout ;)
Garcia (8:48 AM):
Do you people ever sleep???
Emily huffs a small laugh. She goes to reply but hears her name called for her order and puts her phone away. She grabs her drink and croissant and goes to throw a ‘thanks!’ over her shoulder as she heads out. As excited as she is about her drink, it’s short-lived when she feels herself bump into someone else. She only loses her breath from the impact but the coffee in her hand falls from her grip and spills.
She glances down and her eyes meet yours, the one who took the last lemon blueberry muffin. Emily can admit she finds you pretty, even with the dazed look on your face as you look up at Emily. She can feel the heat rush to her face when she realizes she’s just been staring and offers her hand to help you up.
“Are you alright?” Emily asks, giving a gentle tug. Her eyes scan your clothes. “Did the coffee spill on you?”
You shake your head, cheeks going pink. “I’m okay, thank you. No coffee stains either.”
Emily’s chest flutters at the flush on your cheeks, keeping her smile small. “As long as you’re not hurt.”
You wave your hand. “Really, I’m okay. Just embarrassed. Here.” You hold out the white paper bag, and Emily realizes it’s the muffin she wanted.
“Oh, no. I can’t.”
“I insist! Please. You spilled your coffee. Or I could buy you another?”
Emily glances at her watch and winces. “I don’t think I have enough time to wait for another one. It’s okay.”
You push the bag into Emily’s free hand. “Take it. It’s delicious. They’re known for these muffins here.”
“Oh, okay. Thank you, then. I’m still really sorry about bumping into you. I guess I wasn’t paying much attention.”
“No worries. I could say the same for myself.” You rub the back of your neck. “I’m kinda known for being clumsy around town. Anyway, I better go before I embarrass myself even more. If you see me here again, let me know and I’ll buy you your coffee!” You give Emily a small wave and head out.
*
Emily leans back in her seat, glancing out of the cafe window. She arrived earlier than expected, and the cafe was still quiet. She was able to grab two of the lemon blueberry muffins right as they came out of the oven, two resting on the table. She could feel the chill in the air, but her iced latte probably didn’t help.
She hears the bell over the door ring, her eyes glancing over. Her eyes meet yours, a small smile on her lips.
“You’re here early.” You sit across from her and reach for one of the muffins.
“More like late night. I haven’t exactly slept yet, but I didn’t want to risk sleeping through the morning.”
You grin and bat your eyelashes. “Aw, you didn’t want to miss our morning munchies?”
Emily lets out a huff. “Please don’t call it that.”
“But that’s what we do.” You take a bite of the muffin, glancing at the iced coffee Emily held onto. “Is that your salted cream latte?”
Emily’s eyes narrow, pulling the drink a bit closer to her. “Maybe. Why?”
Your eyes go wide and your lips pull into a small pout. “Can I have a sip?”
“What? Why? You don’t even like the cream on top! You’ve tried this latte multiple times and each time, you say you don’t like it.”
“What if I change my mind this time?”
Emily laughs. “You won’t.”
*
“Are you following me?”
Emily rolls her eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Well, I live here so I should be asking you that question.” You bump your shoulder into Emily, a smile on your face. “Who told you about my secret getaway?”
Emily laughs. “Secret getaway? It’s the beach.”
“Yeah, but this spot in particular. It’s away from the main boardwalk and it’s hidden.”
Emily grins, leaning into you. “I have my ways.”
“Uh-huh. So you are stalking me.”
“Stalking? Please, you flatter yourself.”
You let out a small laugh, enjoying the warmth from Emily’s body. “I’m surprised you’re not working. How did you get a Saturday night off?”
“Told ‘em I had a hot date.”
*
“Hey, I wanted to tell you something.” Emily rubs at the inside of her wrist, just below her watch. She tries to look at you but can’t bring herself to, focusing on the empty plate between them.
“What’s up?” You wipe at the table with a napkin, gathering the crumbs into a single spot.
“Well, we caught the guy last night so I’ll be leaving soon.”
“Oh.” You pause and look at Emily. “How soon?”
“Two hours?” Emily winces at the look on your face. “I’m sorry. We’re very… we move around, and fast.”
You can only nod.
“It’s not like I haven’t been enjoying our… us. I just can’t stay.”
“No, I understand. I mean, I knew that from the start. I just wasn’t expecting you to leave so fast after you caught him. I thought you might get like, a day or two off.”
“As nice as that sounds, that rarely happens. You know what they say.”
“...What?”
Emily sits up straight and clears her throat, her voice lowering. “Crime never sleeps.”
You groan. “Ew, don’t ever say that again, please.”
*
“Hey, are you up for drinks tonight?”
Emily glances up from her computer screen, finding JJ leaning against her desk.
“Ah, not tonight. I’ve… got plans.” Emily hopes JJ doesn’t push but this is the third time she’s missed out on drinks with the team. “Next time?”
JJ’s eyes narrow, staring at Emily.
“Stop trying to profile me.”
“Only if you tell me why you haven’t been out with us for the past three Friday nights. The first time, fine, we get it. The second time, it’s a little suspicious. But the third time? You are not getting out of it without an explanation. I will tell Garcia on you.”
Emily huffs, leaning back into her chair. “I have plans.” She holds a finger up. “That I cannot cancel or reschedule.”
“Uh-huh. And does it, by any chance, have anything to do with a certain woman from a certain beach town we may have been in recently?” JJ’s smirking now, arms crossed. “And it wouldn’t be because she’s been visiting every weekend since then, would it?”
Emily only gapes at her. “How— who told you that? How do you even know about her?”
JJ shrugs. “I went on a run every morning there that no one ever showed up for. I ran through the whole town eventually and may have seen you at the same cafe around the same time with the same woman.”
“If you know, then why are you asking?”
“I didn’t but you just confirmed it for me.” JJ taps her desk with her knuckles before heading out. “Well, maybe next week you’ll bring her along. Goodnight, Emily!”
Emily only groans, dropping her head into her hands.
*
You step out onto the sidewalk, waving to the doorman. It was almost 8 and Emily was on her way. Your heart flutters in anticipation and you rock back and forth on your feet as you wait.
The sight of headlights coming down the street catches your attention, and you follow with your eyes as it approaches. You recognize the Jeep and get in, eyes meeting Emily’s.
“Hi,” you breathe out, hand brushing against the one resting the gear shift.
Emily gives you a small kiss on the edge of your lips, letting out a quiet hello before leaning back into her seat. “Ready?”
Your seatbelt clicks into place. “Uh-huh. Where are we going on this exhilarating Friday night?”
“Exhilarating? I was thinking of taking you to my place to crochet.”
“Emily.”
“What? You don’t want to spend quality time with me? Not to mention Sergio is just dying to meet you.” She pulls away from the curb, eyes focused.
“Oh, are you ready to introduce me to your family?” You tease, leaning close enough for her to feel your breath on her cheek. “Are we taking that next step so soon? You haven’t even taken me to bed yet.”
Emily’s hand immediately falls onto your thigh, her grip tight. “Don’t start.” She hesitates, before coming to a stop in a parking lot. “But… what do you think about it?”
You abruptly pull away from her, eyebrows raised. “What do I think about meeting your family? Emily, we haven’t even… it’s only been–”
“No! No, I don’t mean my family. Well, I mean I do but I don’t mean my parents. I meant more like my team.” Emily grabs your hand, pulling it close to her lips. “I haven’t told them anything but they have their suspicions.”
“God, Em, don’t scare me like that.” You let out a shuddered breath, closing your eyes. “Why do you want me to meet them suddenly?”
“Just… it would be nice, I think, if I could spend time with the people I care most altogether?” She glances at you, eyes wide.
“Oh, you’re good.”
*
You felt a paw lightly pat your face, the fur tickling your nose.
“Sergio, please. Five more minutes,” you groan. You turn over in bed, trying to bury your face in the pillow that still smells like Emily’s shampoo.
You hear a laugh from the other side of the room. “You should know better than that.”
“He’s your son, why isn’t he bothering you instead?”
“Because he knows that I have to get ready for work.” You hear Emily shuffling in her closet. “Hey, have you seen that blue button-up of mine, by chance?”
You pause, looking down at your body wearing that exact button-up. You pull the blanket up higher. “Uh, no, I haven’t. Might be in the dirty laundry pile? I can start it today while you’re at work.”
“Yeah, that’d be great.” She grunts, putting her shoes on. “Also, what do you think we should have for dinner?”
“Whatever you want, babe.” You sigh, realizing sleep is no longer coming.
Emily chuckles, sitting next to you. “I’ll see you later, okay? It’s supposed to be quick.” She presses a kiss onto your forehead. “And maybe we can…”
You smack her with her pillow. “Let you in my pants one time and now it’s all you think about. Get outta here.”
She laughs, resting her body on top of yours.
“Em! Please, I can’t breathe.” You push at her shoulders, laughing.
“You seem to be breathing just fine.” She relaxes her body even more, letting her full weight rest on you. “And I’ll have you know that you seduced me!”
“That’s not true! You’re the one who wined and dined me, showing off your fancy wine knowledge and your fancy French.”
“Fancy French?” Emily chuckles, rolling her eyes. “It’s just French, babe.”
She pushes herself up, adjusting her shirt before her eyes land on you. “Hey, that’s my shirt!”
“Oops?”
“You’re lucky I think you’re so cute.”
*
It starts with a small itch on your cheek during dinner that you brushed off. As you lean back into your seat as Emily drives, eyes drooping, you think it might be a stray hair tickling your face. Emily’s talking about possibly going out for drinks tomorrow night with her team but you’ve started to rub at your eyes.
“Hey, you okay?” Emily’s brows furrow, watching you unable to keep your hands from your face.
“I’m okay, my face just feels a little funny.” The skin of your face actually feels so tight, especially when you try to smile. “Hey, Em…”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Was there, by any chance, Thai eggplant in any of our dishes tonight?”
“I think the curry did. Why?”
You huff out a laugh. “Oh no.”
“Oh no, what? Should I be taking you to the ER?” Her voice is rising in pitch, eyes darting to try and think of the nearest ER. “Baby, you’re allergic? Why didn’t you tell me before? Oh God, do you need me to grab an EpiPen? Do you even have one?”
“Relax, Emily, I’m fine, and no need for an EpiPen. I’ll be okay, it’ll go away on its own. I’ll pop a Claritin and I should be okay.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re allergic? Are you allergic to anything else?” Emily’s biting onto her lower lip, eyes glancing over to you every few minutes. “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the ER?”
“I’m sure, but thank you for caring. And no, as far as I’m aware, I’m not allergic to anything else. I do try to stay away from fava beans though. Not allergic but it does make me feel nauseous.”
“Fava beans? What the hell are those?”
“It’s usually in like hummus and falafel, but I think you can make them into a dish itself? Not sure, but again, I stay away from it in general.”
“So hummus and falafel are banned from my house, got it.”
“Emily, don’t be ridiculous. You can have those in your house, they’re not going to kill me.” You pat her thigh. “Thank you for your concern though.”
“What if you accidentally eat it?”
“Emily,” you chuckle. “What’s the hummus going to do, open its container, scoop itself onto a spoon, and force its way into my hand?”
*
You spin yourself around in Emily’s chair, staring at the ceiling and wondering what movie to watch tonight. It’d been a long day for you, your flight being delayed stranding you at the airport for a few hours. By the time your plane landed, it was late, and there weren’t many cabs around. It felt like every part of your trip was a challenge, and you were just glad to finally be near Emily.
You glance at the meeting room she’s in and can only wonder what she’s discussing with Hotch that has her looking so troubled.
“Oh, Y/N, you’re here! How was the flight?” Penelope leans against Emily’s desk. “I saw it was delayed.”
“You saw?” You shake your head. “Wait, don’t answer that.”
Penelope grins, sending you a wink. “You should know better.”
“The flight was okay, definitely felt longer than usual. Then when I get here, there’s like no cabs at the airport. Which, fine, I get it, it’s late but seriously? And then when I try to get an Uber, the price is like triple the usual rate!” You roll your eyes, leaning back in the chair. “I should’ve just rented a car.”
“Well, at least you made it. Are we seeing you at all this weekend or is Emily hogging you for the whole time?”
“Ah, well, I guess that’s up to Emily. I’m up for a girl’s night this weekend.” You tap at your chin. “There is a cocktail lounge I’ve been wanting to try but I think they’re only accepting reservations.”
“Hm, interesting. I’m not making any promises but I’m gonna try and work some magic and see if I can get us on the list.” Penelope wiggles her eyebrows. “All you have to do is convince your big, bad girlfriend to say yes to sharing you.”
“Not a chance, Garcia.” Emily’s standing behind her, arms crossed.
“Aw, but Emily! We haven’t seen Y/N in so long and you always keep her to yourself every weekend.”
“Yeah, Emily, stop hogging me,” you tease, leaning forward onto her desk.
She throws her hands up. “Fine, we can do a girl's night. Pick a place and time, Pen, but tonight, we’re busy.” Emily tugs at your arm, pulling you to the exit.
“Goodnight, Penelope! Let me know about the cocktail lounge!” You wave, happy to be dragged away.
Once you get into Emily’s car, you can’t help but look at her and grin. “You don’t have to be so jealous, you know.”
She scoffs. “Jealous? Why would I be jealous? You’re not secretly dating Penelope or JJ.” She pauses. “Are you?”
“I don’t know, am I?”
Emily pinches your cheek. “Don’t be a smartass.”
“You love that about me.” You freeze, heat rushing to your face and the tips of your ears going pink. “Emily, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking–”
“I do. Love you, I mean. Granted, I didn’t think this was when I would tell you this. Maybe at a nice dinner or home but… I do.”
“Home?” You stare at her, heart stuttering. “You love me?”
“So much,” Emily breathes out.
You can only smile, reaching out to stroke her cheek. “You’re something else, Emily Prentiss, but I love you too.”
*
“So… what are your thoughts on being neighbors?” You focus on the book in your hands, refusing to look at Emily beside you on the couch.
“Excuse me?” She lays her book down and turns to face you. “Neighbors?”
You hesitate before looking at her. “My contract in Carmel is ending and I’ve been offered an analyst position with the city. Here. I haven’t accepted yet because I wanted to talk to you about it first.”
She frowns, grabbing your hand. “Y/N… if it’s a great opportunity, you should take it regardless of my opinion.”
“I know but I don’t want to make it seem like I’m… being pushy? Or rushing you? It’s one thing to date someone long distance, it’s another to be in the same city.”
“Shouldn’t I be happy that I get to see you more often than just weekends?” She tilts her head. “Not only that, but if you don’t accept this position, doesn’t that mean you won’t have a job?”
“That’s not my point, Em. I just mean that maybe you might feel… suffocated. With me, here. Yes, we love each other but–”
“No buts.” She presses her finger against your lips. “But I’m hurt that you’re planning to be my neighbor.”
“What do you mean? You want me to live on the other side of town or something?” You grab her hand and move it to your lap. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
“No, I mean, why wouldn’t you just be my roommate?”
You splutter. “Excuse me? You want me to move in?”
“Well, it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? If you got a place, we’d just be going back and forth between the two. Not to mention paying an unnecessarily ridiculous price for a place.” Emily begins to list the reasons on her fingers. “We have dinner together every night you’re here, you currently don’t have a car, this house is decently close to the city office, and I have the room for you. Obviously.” She leans back against the couch, letting out a relaxed sigh, and closes her eyes. “Any other concerns?”
You can only gape at her, at a loss for words.
“Now the real question is this: how much are they offering you to take the job with the city?” She opens her eyes to look at you. “Baby?”
You shake your head. “Their initial offer is for $175,000.”
“Christ, for maps?!”
“Hey! You use maps at your job all the time so you’re welcome. And I said it’s their initial offer. I’d technically be considered a senior analyst, so it’s closer to $200,000.”
Emily’s eyes roll back. “God, keep talking dirty to me.”
“Em!” You tug at her ear gently. “You’re so annoying.”
*
You can barely hear the knock over the music you have playing, but you’ve been expecting it. Swinging the door open, you find JJ and Henry standing with bags over their shoulders.
“Ah, my royal guests have arrived for the night.” You step aside to let them in, locking the door behind them. “Are we hungry yet?”
JJ groans. “Please tell me you made what I think you made.”
You turn the volume down on the sound system low enough to not have to yell. “That depends. What are you hoping I made?”
Henry wraps himself around your legs. “Pasta chicken, please.”
You gasp. “How did you know I made pesto chicken? Do you have superpowers?” You look up at JJ. “You can put your stuff in the guest room if you’d like. Or we can set up in the living room?”
“No, the guest room is great. I’ll be right back.” She grabs Henry’s bag from the floor and heads down the hallway.
“Alright, my dude, let’s check on the food. And I made brownies for dessert.” You guide Henry toward the kitchen, stomach grumbling. “Emily also better get her butt here sooner than later, or else.”
“Or else what?”
You jump, hand flying to your chest. “JJ, please, not everyone is an FBI agent!”
She lets out a laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you. Habit, I guess. Did you need any help?”
You wave her off. “Nah, I got it. I have drinks in the fridge if you want some. There’s beer, wine, soda, and j-u-i-c-e.”
“Sounds good. Want me to grab you anything?” JJ tugs the fridge open, pursing her lips. “How’s the wine?”
“Don’t know, it’s Emily’s.” You let out a small laugh. “Feel free to open it.”
She shakes her head, pulling the bottle of wine out and a juice for Henry. “Her loss, I guess.”
“Whose loss?”
You both jump this time. “Christ, Emily!” You rub your temples. “I’m not going to survive like this. I feel like my heart’s restarted so many times since moving in.”
“Well, maybe if you listened to me about the music volume, you wouldn’t be so jumpy.” She tugs you close. “Sorry, I’m a bit late.”
You roll your eyes. “You know how I feel about music.”
“You have it on so you don’t feel lonely when you’re home alone,” Emily and JJ both recite.
“Wow.” You scoff. “I don’t say it that often!”
JJ leans down to hand Henry his juice, wiping the condensation on her pants. “You don’t have to. It’s always on when we come over.”
“And it’s always on when I come home from work.”
“Well, it’s better than just sitting here in silence by myself.”
Emily smiles, heading to the fridge. “I know you don’t like when it’s too quiet. It’s okay.”
*
Emily’s chin drops down to her chest and lets out a heavy sigh. She was late, much later than she told you. She rubs at the ridges of her house key feeling like a stone sat in her stomach. Things have been somewhat tense the past few weeks and she knows she hasn’t made it better. This is the fifth Friday night she’s missed, and it doesn’t help that it was your anniversary tomorrow.
She’d promised you she’d be home early but the team caught a case right after lunch. She tried to keep you updated throughout the day but by the time it hit midnight, you stopped replying. Emily pushes her way in, instantly rearming the alarm. Setting her bags down on the small side table, she heads further in, ears straining to hear for any movement.
She notes the lack of music and wonders how long it’s been off. By the time she makes it to the bedroom, she’s shed her shoes and blazer. Emily sighs once more when she sees you asleep in bed, Sergio curled onto the pillow beside you.
She makes her way to the closet, shuffling through to grab some pajamas. She can shower tomorrow morning, and maybe she can make it up to you and have you join her.
“When did you get in?”
Emily’s heart jumps as she turns to look at the bed. You’re still curled beneath the blankets but your eyes are staring straight at her.
“I’m just getting in,” she breathes out. Emily pulls her button-up and bra off, exchanging them for a large t-shirt. “Did I wake you?”
“No, Sergio did.” You glance over to the cat that’s now made himself comfortable halfway onto your forehead. “Everything at work okay?”
“Yeah, just got unlucky. We caught a case right after lunch.” She tugs her slacks off and settles into bed beside you. “Didn’t make much progress either, but the amount of bodies we kept finding were… a lot.”
You let out a quiet hum. “Make a profile yet?”
Emily shakes her head, rolling over to face you. “No, not yet. We’re missing something but we just haven’t found it yet.” She stares at you, hesitating just a bit. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
“It’s okay, Em, it’s work.”
“It’s not though. This isn’t the first one I’ve missed, and I’m sorry. I know it might feel like I’m not trying but I promise that I am.” She reaches for your waist, pulling you close. “And I don’t want you to think that I’m avoiding you or anything like that.”
“Emily, I mean it. I know how your job works. I’m not mad at you. Am I a little sad and disappointed? Anyone would be, but I’m not going to hold something like this over you. That’s like if you held a grudge against me every time I lose track of time when I’m working.” You tuck your face into her neck, breathing her in. “Just glad you’re okay.”
She squeezes you tight, letting her body relax. “I’m going to make it up to you.”
You let out a small laugh. “Oh yeah? What’d you have in mind?”
“I don’t know yet but I’ll figure it out. Maybe…” Emily bites her lip, thinking. “Maybe after the case though?”
“Of course, babe. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” You try to hold in your yawn, but Emily can feel it against her skin.
“Go to bed. I’ll wake you up before I leave tomorrow.”
“Mm, tell me about your case. Not too many details though.”
Emily smiles, letting her eyes close. “You don’t wanna hear about what they did to the bodies and where we found them?”
You shudder. “God, no. Just wanna hear your voice.”
*
“Emily, hey. I’m glad you answered.” You stuff as many shirts as you can into the small luggage, holding your cell phone between your ear and shoulder. “Listen, something’s come up and I’m on my way to the airport.”
Emily ducks into an empty conference room, leaning against the door. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you want me to meet you at the airport?”
“No, that’s not necessary. My mom called me and– it’s nothing. Not anything bad but I just have to help her sort some stuff out.” You zipped the luggage up, doing a quick scan to make sure the windows were shut and Sergio’s water bowl was filled.
“You sure I can’t do anything?” Emily turns to look out the window, unaware that she’s started to bite the nail of her thumb. “We don’t have any pressing cases right now, I can meet you–”
“It’s okay, I promise. Stay.” You set the alarm and lock the door behind you. “Just… it’s my brother. He’s always had a tough time once he finished high school. He’s been doing good, but my mom is worried. I just need to see what’s happening and have it sorted. I should be back in a few days.”
“Y/N–”
“I’m sorry, Em, my mom’s calling. I’ll call you when I get there, okay?”
Emily sighs when the call disconnects, shoulders slumping. It’s been a good few weeks since your anniversary and things have been getting better, but it just feels like something’s been off. She makes her way back to her desk and opens a new window on her computer.
This is wrong. You shouldn’t be looking him up. If she wanted you to know about him, she’d have told you by now. It can’t be that bad.
Emily groans, closing the window.
“What’s wrong, my dark fairy?” Penelope perches herself on the edge of Emily’s desk. “Trouble in paradise? Don’t tell me Y/N’s still mad at you. Haven’t you been taking any of my advice? Groveling, presents, and ravishing her every chance you get?”
“Penelope, please, not so loud.” Emily shakes her head. “It’s not that. She said she had to fly home to handle some stuff that’s come up and she mentioned her brother. I don’t really know much about him and I was gonna…” Emily wiggles her fingers and points to the computer. “But I can’t bring myself to do it. That’s– I shouldn’t do that, right? It’s wrong?”
“Oh-ho-ho. The good ol’ dilemma of wanting to find out what’s going on vs. not betraying someone’s trust.” Penelope leans in, lowering her voice. “As a hacker, I say do it. As a friend…”
“As a friend, don’t?”
Penelope darts her eyes to the computer. “I’d still do it, especially if I think it’s for someone’s safety or well-being!”
“Pen!” Emily drops her face into her hands. “I don’t know if I can.”
“Want me to?”
Emily thinks about it for a few minutes, worrying what your reaction might be. “Just… If you do it and you don’t find anything pressing, don’t tell me that you did it. But if it’s something bad, then tell me. I need to know if I need to be there too.”
“You got it, goth queen.”
*
“Happy birthday, Emily!” You lift Sergio from the floor and press his face against her cheek. “Welcome home. I hope you’re ready to celebrate.”
Emily smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of Sergio’s head. “If that means relaxing on the couch with my two favorites, then I’m so ready.”
“Not just that but I also have some extra surprises in store for you.” You set Sergio into her arms and give her a quick peck. “I just need to grab them. You go get comfy and I’ll meet you in the living room?”
“It’s a date.” Emily watches you head to her office, shaking her head in disbelief. “Can’t believe that’s where she’s kept them hidden and I didn’t even think to look in there, Serg.”
Emily places Sergio onto her bed as she goes to change into pajamas. She glances at the box at the top of her closet, wondering if today would be the day.
“Em? You almost done?”
She lets out a breath, shaking her head. Not today. “Yeah, I’m just about finished. Be there in a sec.”
Lowering herself down to her knees beside the bed, she brings her face close to the cat and lowers her voice. “Listen here, buddy. I’m going to need you to put in some work and be extra cute and irresistible. I’m going to need all the help I can get.” He only stares and blinks at her.
“Oh my god, I’m losing it,” Emily mumbles, scooping Sergio back into her arms to head back to the living room. Her eyes widen when she sees the gifts on the small table. “Uh, Y/N? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “That’s rich, coming from the woman who paid for a month-long trip for my birthday and didn’t let me chip in. We also flew first class, Em, first class.”
She scoffs, plopping down onto the couch. “That trust fund isn’t gonna use itself, so what better way than to spend it on you?”
You push her shoulder, settling in beside her. “I could say the same for myself, minus the trust fund. Do you wanna open gifts first or later?”
“Mm, later. I just wanna lay here with you.”
“Any movie suggestions?”
“You pick.” She buries her face into your neck, closing her eyes. “It’s been a long day so nothing too heavy or intense, please.”
“Taxi?”
“Again?”
“You said I could pick!” You poke at her side, scrolling through movies. “Do you wanna do a TV show instead?”
Emily only mumbles.
“Ah, yes. Thank you for that detailed and clear answer. That narrows down my search immensely. I have a top 3 for selection.”
“Stop being a smartass.”
You laugh, selecting Taxi anyway. The movie starts and as you both sit there, you can feel Emily’s body going lax. “Happy birthday, Emily,” you whisper.
*
“No, Emily, absolutely not. You can’t drive like this!” You argue, holding her car keys close to your chest. “Hotch said you can take the rest of the week off, so why don’t you?”
Emily only gives you a look.
“Uhg, I know. Can’t you just, I don’t know, get a ride from someone? I can call JJ and she can swing by?”
“I’m already up later than usual, Y/N. It’s 10. The day’s already started for the team a long time ago.”
You bite your lip, glancing at your computer. You don’t have any pressing deadlines coming up so you could technically take an early day. The real dilemma is getting Emily to agree.
“I’ll make a deal with you.” You straighten your shoulders and clear your throat. “And if you don’t agree, you’re going to have to think of another way to get to work.”
“I’m listening.”
“You let me drive you to work. I can take you now and pick you up later.”
Silence.
You can feel the heat spreading on your cheeks as you wait for Emily to say something, anything. “Em?”
“Nobody drives my Jeep but me.”
“Emily Prentiss, you literally got shot yesterday. If you think for one second I’m going to let you drive with an injury, you are out of your mind.”
She grits her teeth. “Y/N…”
“Emily.” You stare at her head-on. “If you love me as much as you say you do, you’ll let me do this for you.”
She dips her head, closing her eyes. “Fine, you can drive my Jeep but if you get a scratch on her, I’m putting my cold feet on you for a month!” Emily turns around with a huff, going to grab her work bag.
*
You can’t help but admire the new ring that sits on your finger as you sit at your computer. It’s been two hours since you clocked in but you can’t concentrate. The butterflies in your stomach haven’t gone away since you woke up and Emily smiled at you. Biting your lip, you try and focus on the map in front of you.
Your phone buzzes on the desk and you sigh.
Emily ❣️(9:53 AM):
Get to work.
You startle, looking around the office and debating on whether you should turn the music down or not. There’s no way she’d have cameras set up without telling you, would she?
You (9:55 AM):
I don’t know what you mean 🙂
Emily ❣️ (9:59 AM):
I know you. Now get to work. We can celebrate again when I get home 😜
You can feel the tips of your ears go pink, locking your phone and setting it face down on the desk. Instead of getting back to work, you open a new browsing window instead and immediately search for rings. You’ve yet to find one that would fit Emily, and it’s starting to feel like you’re going to have to make a custom piece.
Your phone buzzes against the desk, causing you to jump. There’s no way you were getting anything done today.
*
When you swing the door open to a red-eyed JJ, your stomach drops. The way she’s looking at you is something you’ve never wanted to experience.
“JJ… don’t.” You shake your head, the ring on your finger feeling so, so heavy.
She takes in a deep breath, her voice shaky. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. She– they said she didn’t make it off the table.”
The only thing you can hear is the music you’ve been playing all day and the sound of your breathing. JJ is speaking to you, hands moving, but it’s like no words are coming out. You can’t process anything she’s saying and you can only stare into her eyes.
JJ would never lie to you and she would never put you through this if she knew there wasn’t a possibility of Emily surviving. She’s guiding you back inside, her face tight.
“Y/N?”
You look at her, finally taking her in. The tip of her nose was pink, her ponytail was a mess, and her shirt was rumpled.
“Sorry, could you repeat that? I’m–” You’re at a loss for words, uncertain.
“I asked if you wanted to stay with me.” JJ grabs onto your hands, her eyes roaming your face. “You don’t have to be alone tonight, or any night. I’m sure Henry would love to have you and Sergio over.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. You don’t need to take care of one more person.”
“Y/N, it’s okay, really.” JJ glances around, wincing. “I think it would be best. At least for one night? And then we can go from there, okay? If not for you, then for me.”
You sigh, nodding. “Okay.”
“Okay. You stay right here. I’ll grab you a few things and then we can go, okay?”
As JJ makes her way into the bedroom, her eyes water. This is not how she wanted to find out the two of you got engaged over the weekend. Taking a deep breath, JJ is quick to grab a change of clothes and Sergio. She finds you still sitting on the couch, the music turned off.
“Come on, let’s head out.” She squeezes your shoulder before handing you Sergio.
You slowly stand, looking down at the black cat, realizing that he won’t understand why Emily will no longer be coming around. You take in a breath and blink back the tears as you move to turn the alarm on. “Are you sure, JJ? I can stay, really. I’m sure you’d like to be alone too–”
“I want you to come, Y/N. Please. I’d like to keep you close tonight.” JJ frowns, the indecision clear on her face. “I can’t tell you everything yet, but once things are settled, I promise I will. I just need to make sure you’re safe.”
The drive to JJ’s is a blur. It felt like it went by in the blink of an eye but at the same time, it felt like hours. As you both make your way to the front door, it feels like you’ve been awake for hours. Wasn’t it just this morning that you were making plans with Emily for Friday? You have a dentist appointment tomorrow, your mom wanted you to call her back, and there’s a deadline coming up–
Your head throbs.
JJ pushes the door open, the lights off and the house is silent. “Well, looks like everyone’s asleep. Here.” She guides you to the guest room you frequented every girl’s night, not bothering to turn the light on.
As you sit, you look at her once more. “JJ…”
“I know. I’m so sorry.” She presses a kiss to your forehead. “Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we’ll figure things out, okay? And if you need me for anything, don’t hesitate to wake me.”
All you can do is nod as you lay down, tugging the blanket over you. “This is real, isn’t it, JJ?”
She pauses at the doorway. “Yeah, Y/N, it’s real.”
You swallow the lump in your throat. “And she’s not coming back.”
“No,” she whispers.
You can feel the adrenaline and nerves finally hit, and somehow your eyes close.
*
“I don’t know how that makes me feel! Isn’t that why I’m here?” You raise your eyes to Dr. Crane, the psychologist that JJ has been forcing you to go to. “I told you from the start that I didn’t think that this would help.”
Dr. Crane leans forward, setting her notebook aside. “Y/N, in the past two months, do you want to know what I’ve noticed about you?”
You throw your hands up, defeated. “Sure, why not?”
“You insist that being here wouldn’t help you but you come to every appointment. That’s three times a week, by the way. You start the session calmly, and as the questions progress, so does your anger.” She taps her desk with her pen. “Not only that, but you’ve been unable to say Emily’s name once in any session, you refuse to answer questions you don’t like the answer to, and you frequently try to change the subject when I ask about your engagement.”
You wince, glancing at the ring on your finger. “Not much to talk about. It didn’t last very long.”
Oh, that one hurt.
“Look, people grieve differently, right? This is how I’m doing it.”
“And do you think that’s healthy? Being unable to say a name? Wearing a ring that you seem to resent whenever you talk about it?”
You can feel yourself clenching your jaw as you look at your hands. “Are we finished for today?” You don’t wait for an answer, but stand and grab your things.
“Y/N, a loss is something so many people experience but very little know how to process. If you continue this way, how long do you think you’ll last before you’re forced to confront it?”
You say nothing as you storm out of the office, the frustration building. JJ stands from the waiting room, a frown on her face as she sees your haste to leave. She looks back toward the office before following you with a sigh.
“Y/N, you said you’d try–”
“This is me trying, JJ! I’m just– I’m not ready.” You stand on the sidewalk, staring at her. “I’m not ready to accept she’s gone. Every day I wake up, thinking that I had a bad dream. I look down at my finger and I see this ring and I wonder how much longer it’ll be until I can take it off without feeling like I’m trying to forget her.”
JJ shakes her head, hand reaching for you. “We can find you another psychologist if you want. If you think Dr. Crane isn’t helping, then we can–”
You shake your head, taking a few steps back. “No, I know. I just– I need to be alone for a little while, okay? You’ve done a lot for me these past few weeks, JJ, and I appreciate that but I just need to think.”
“Let me drop you off, then. Where are you going?”
“No, it’s fine. I can walk. Please, JJ. Just let me be alone for a little while. I promise I’ll be okay. I’ll call you?” You take a few more steps back before turning away.
“Y/N! You call me if you need a ride, okay?”
You throw your hand up in acknowledgment as you briskly walk away from JJ, your head pounding.
*
They’re everywhere. No matter where you are or what you’re doing, it’s like they follow you all day long. You know it’s not true, but that’s what it feels like. Just how many people actually drive Jeeps? Maybe you’ll look at some data later.
It’s like the car itself was following you, trying to force you to acknowledge it. None of them are her’s though. That one’s sitting in the parking garage, untouched. Over the past few months, you’ve thought about selling it but can’t bring yourself to actually do it. It’s not like you drive it, but it’s just one more thing to hold onto.
You tap at your keyboard, the posting halfway finished. This is the fourth time you’ve tried to sell this Jeep but every time, something stops you. The first time, the wifi disconnected. The second time, Sergio jumped onto the desk and stepped onto the keyboard which caused the window to close. The third time, you kept getting interrupted by phone calls from work so you just gave up. But now? Now you don’t think you should sell it at all.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” You buckle your seatbelt before looking at Emily.
“Yeah, what’s up?” She pulls away from the curb, the engine rumbling as she made her way to the highway.
“Why’d you get a Jeep?”
Emily grins. “What’s wrong with my Jeep?”
“Nothing! Just… it’s not what I would expect from someone who works for the FBI. I feel like you’d have something more, I don’t know, practical? Discrete?”
“How much more discrete could this be? It’s all black, even the rims!”
“Yeah, but I imagined you having like an SUV or something. All blacked out, reinforced, or bullet-proof, you know? Not a Jeep.”
“How do you know it’s not reinforced or bullet-proof?” Emily speeds up now that she’s on the highway. “Besides, if I ever had to, I could go off-road in this baby. Wanna see?” She jerks the steering wheel slightly, causing you to let out a yelp.
“Emily, don’t you dare! If we’re late to our reservation again–”
“Baby, on our Friday night? I would never.”
You sigh, turning your computer off. You can try again tomorrow.
*
“Do you think I should do it, JJ?” You gaze out of her car window, recognizing her neighborhood. “Or is it too soon?”
JJ takes in a deep breath. “I– I think you should do it if you think you’re ready. And if you’re not, that’s okay too.”
“I should try though, shouldn’t I?” You begin to twist the ring on your finger, hesitant. “It hasn’t been that long but it feels like it’s been years. I feel like I’ve been living without her for so long now, but…”
“Y/N, if you want to try, you can. And if you change your mind, you can always cancel or leave. Whoever it is that you’re thinking of is hopefully a good person and can understand where you’re coming from.” JJ pulls into her driveway and turns her car off. “Look, it can be a group outing if you want. No expectations.”
You take in a deep breath, chin dropping to your chest. “My coworker. She’s been… very persistent. She knows but I can’t tell if she’s genuine or if she’s just trying to–”
“Get into your pants?”
You huff. “Yeah.”
JJ nods, getting out of the car. You follow her up through the front door, the sound of the TV on and the washing machine running.
“Then we do a group outing. You can see for yourself and we can tell you if anything feels off, okay? Or if you want, we can ask Penelope to do a quick check on her beforehand.”
“I’ll think about it, okay?”
“Whenever you’re ready.”
*
JJ (7:51 PM):
You sure you don’t want one of us to pick you up instead?
You (7:53 PM):
It’s a little too late to be asking me, JJ. She’s supposed to be here at 8.
JJ (7:54 PM):
And if she’s as understanding as she says she is, she wouldn’t mind.
You sigh, shaking your head. The windows light up from a car’s headlights and you make your way to the door.
As you lock the door behind you, your eyes find your coworker, Lucy, standing at the passenger door. As you approach, she opens the door.
“Hi.”
“Hello. You look beautiful.” She tilts her head. “Shall we?”
“Thank you. You, too.” You slide into her car and it feels all wrong. The height of the car, the way you fit in the seat, the windows, even the smell. You shake your head.
I have to try. I just want a good night out, whether that’s with Lucy or with my friends.
Letting out a breath, you try to relax in your seat as Lucy maneuvers her way through the city. Your eyes are playing tricks on you because you keep thinking that you see Jeeps in every parking lot you pass. You’re grateful when you arrive at the sports bar.
Once you’re settled in and made introductions, you find yourself sandwiched between Lucy and JJ in the booth. Thankfully JJ is on the inside, and you instinctively sit closer to her. It’s an easy night thanks to the group and you’re able to avoid any awkward conversations with Lucy because of them.
JJ leans in close, lowering her voice. “Doing okay?”
You nod, patting her thigh. “Yes, thank you.”
Lucy stands from the booth, shooting you a smile. “Would you like a refill?”
You didn’t even realize you had finished your drink. “Sure, yes, that’d be great. A whiskey sour, please?”
“You got it.” She makes her way to the bar, disappearing.
“Thoughts?” You murmur, fingers tracing the rim of your glass.
Penelope rests her chin in her palm. “She’s not bad, my sweet, but there’s no sparks if that’s what you’re asking. Something feels a little off too, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“She’s nice, Y/N, just…” JJ pauses, trying to choose her words carefully. “It just doesn’t feel right yet.”
*
It’s 2AM and Lucy insisted on walking you up to your door. She’d gotten tickets for a concert and you figured you could try being with just her without a group.
“Thanks for inviting me tonight.” You rub the house key in your hand, trying to maintain a distance. Although her company is nice, you don’t think you could handle anything physical with her.
“Of course.” She pauses, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I know it’s late but–”
“Actually, Lucy–”
“Ah.” She nods her head, taking a small step back. “Sorry, too forward? Did I do something wrong?”
“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. I know, so cliche, but it’s true. I thought I was ready to try again but I don’t think I am.” You try to smile, but it falls. “Everything feels so wrong right now. Not just you but just… every part of my life. I thought that if I put myself out there, it might be what I needed to get things going but, as you can see, it’s not working.”
“I figured.” Lucy pats your shoulder, giving you a small smile. “I didn’t think you’d say yes in the first place, but you did, so I think I ignored all the signs too. I’m really sorry, Y/N. If you ever want to talk, you can text or call me anytime, okay?”
“Okay. And I’m really sorry, Lucy.”
“Don’t apologize. I knew what I was doing, too. I’ll see you later.”
You turn away and let yourself in, leaning against the door. Your chest feels so heavy and you wonder how long you’ll continue to feel this way. All you want is for things to go back to the way they were.
#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x you#also this is my first time posting on tumblr so sorry if the formatting is weird#still learning tbh#lol also not me writing this after stopping for like 4 years#:')#mine
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Like my predictions for s19 are so lame compared to everyone who already sent me theirs but like
- grimmons duh
- docnut open your hearts (the BANANA BREAD COME ON THAT'S SO GAY-)
- caboose is most likely going to be killed off cause of Joel / because caboose would do what church did and be like "oh well church did it and if he'd do it for me I'd do it for him"
- tex comeback probably in flashback but bring her back </3
- Grif and or Simmons might die. Which infucking hope not but they may rather kill one of them than have a ship be canonical
- I really hope they fucking retcon all of s16 because what was thattttt (and not like it was a simulation I want them to call it the fuck out and be like haha what)
- I know gray doesn't work there but locus crumb please I'm begging I need more of him and the reds
- I hope the ending is open ended and leaves us with our own interpretation of like where the story goes like don't fucking kill everyone like that onne fucking video I will actually burn down a forest if they so some rouge one bullshit
-this ones obvs stupid and won't like happen but "we don't have to wonder why we are here we know why we're are" MAYBE MAYBE DON'T FIRESQUAD ME BUT I'M JUST SAYIN
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Visualize this as everybody you've asked the Oc Sweets ask to playing a paddel game with the ask as the paddel ball. The ask has gone from person to person, and now it's arrived back to you!
If your OCs were sweets/candy, which ones would they be? Especially MewMew and Evilicus!!!
Ooh and as an extra question, what's their favourite candy?
Oooooogghhhhhh me when. That which I put forth comes back to meee yahoo heehe (the fact that this is the second ask about this topic haha). I am bonked on the head by the ball. Kiitos :)
I think Mewmew would likely be marshmallows due to the immaculate softness and sugary sweetness. Just the whole vibe. I personally can't stomach marshmallows bc they're wayyy to sweet for me hahah... Mew could also easily be like a smores! Crunchy (the tech parts) with soft and melty stuff (bio parts and fuel). Doesn't that just sound yummy :) lol
The marshmallow (or s'more) would also be fitting bc of how.. Heavy? It is. Like. So much fat and you can't eat too many before you have to stop. At least that's it for me so. That adds to the Mewmew vibe (bc m is nothing if not Heavy Class and tanky!)
Though, I could also make the argument for Mewmew being like, fruit gummies? I have this specific zoo animal gummy type in mind
Bc haahaa artificial thing resembling a real animal :) but still!
Evilicus... Hmmm... I really wanted to say some Halloween candy here bc of the vibes.. Ev is so edgy. But I feel like something else would represent them better..
Let's say. Cake. Let me paint the picture for you. It's at least two tiered. It's got sharp and detailed frosting. It's got hard meringue spikes. It's got decorations and maybe a surface sculpted of almond paste. It's got plums and other dried fruits in the batter. Chocolate sauce. Raspberry sauce - red as blood. The raspberry sauce has the faintest hint of chili. The whole thing is in purple and black. Tadah! Evilicus.
.. Or, after being defeated it's a little fruitcake with chocolate ganache and berry sauce thrown on top. Still relatively fancy but definitely comprised of less.
As for what those two would like, it's gonna be very different from what treats they would be!
Mewmew -..... Cat treats. But if you asked about human candies the answer is probably cookies or candied fruit. More likely cookies but Mewmew likes fruits and veggies in general.
Evilicus - Hard to say, they don't eat much.. 🤔 I think rock candy would be fun for them though! Just like those nefarious power crystals they used to acquire in their glory days. I could also say lollipops and then like, banana bread and tiger cake, and other less sweet but still desert baked goods.
#Ask#THANK YOUUUUU:)#I would've talked about more characters but I didn't want this to get too long#I am a person incapable of being brief in anything#This was fun though I really appreciate!!!#I'M WORKING ON THE OTHER ASK RN BTW#This one was just easier for me to figure out is all#But fear not other asker you've not been forgotten<3#Also Rusty hope you're having a nice one. It's lovely to hear from you again :)
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🍂Weekly Tag Wednesday🍂
Thank you for the tag, @ohkate ! I wasn't expecting this — been a while since I’ve done a tag game.
Suppose this is as good as a time as any to kind of introduce myself to this fandom I've ducked into, too, haha
Name: crest (not my actual name but that's all you get folks)
Age: mid twenties
Favorite color: dark or silvery green
What emoji best describes your current mood? 😌 it's the end of a long week, but it's been a nice evening thus far.
What season is it where you are right now? Autumn, a bit rainy where I'm at. It’s nice.
Were you up before or after the sun this morning? Before. It stays dark late, but I was also up early.
Are you currently in possession of a pumpkin? No.
Do prefer to carve or paint your jack-o-lanterns? I've carved them, and I enjoy that, and I love having a candle flicker inside. However, I think I'm a better painter, and it's less mess, so probably paint.
Do you have a favorite pumpkin-spice flavored treat? If so, what is it? I actually do like a pumpkin spice latte, no whip though. it's just a nice cozy drink.
What's your favorite season and what's your favorite pie that you associate with it? I used to say autumn, but I think it might be winter -- what I would call true winter. Frozen lakes and blistering wind chill. I understand to most people this sounds fucking awful, but it makes you feel alive when you step out onto a frozen day and get hit by that cold, where you can walk on dark water because it's frozen solid, and the air itself is crisp and makes your fingertips red, and the world is so quiet but echoes the most smallest of sounds, and the wind hums a tune with its chilly air. I adore true winter.
We're having a pot-luck, what are you going to bring? If you need an entree, then I'll make jambalaya, it can feed an army. More of a side? Either pączki bread or chocolate chip banana bread.
It's chilly outside and you need a hot drink in your hands, what are you drinking? either a cup of coffee with a tsp of brown sugar, or earl grey tea with a touch of milk.
Will you be wearing a costume for Halloween? Is it ready? Probably not. I have earrings I've made, I'll wear those, but I also have a job where dressing for halloween would be entirely inappropriate, so.
Finally, what's something you've made or done recently that you're proud of? Um, I joined my community band, and I’m excited to get to playing an instrument again. It’s been a few years, and I was nervous I’d be terrible, but it’s coming back!
Also know I’m late for Wednesday, but hope it’s okay.
I'll tag a few people, but it's an open tag for anyone who wants to participate, and no one has to participate! enjoy your weekend everybody--
@its-tea-time-darling , @hamartian-cathexis , @qlala , @blue-summers , @michellemisfit
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Some thoughts on TokRev and Ken Wakui (before reading the ending)
I want to clarify that this is my point of view and that if you have a different one, that's fine (even if you don't agree)! So let's move on.
Let's see, although everyone has a fairly well-argued point about why they don't like the ending, I think that the fact of saying: "these are not my characters" is as true as it is uncertain. I mean, there are things that WILL happen anyway and shape our characters as we know them...
...except for a few incidents that did traumatize them for life (like this: Draken never got over Emma's death and in all futures he lived extremely DEPRESSED; that is, he lived just to live. In fact, I've always had a theory that just like Ash Lynx, in Banana Fish, Draken allowed himself to die protecting Takemichi knowing what would happen to him, and at least now they both have a chance).
For example:
Kazutora will continue to have to survive the mistreatment of her father and the bullying and blackmail of her classmates until he runs into Baji, which is most likely, or another character, and he will have to start to evolve as a person from there (as we saw in several of the extras).
Emma and Draken will continue to be abandoned by their mothers. In fact, when Takemichi arrives in the past, Emma is already with the Sano and, finally, has had to "overcome" that abandonment (I put it in quotes because it doesn't seem like the right word, but now I can't think of another).
In addition, Draken will continue to live in "the massage room" and will see how the girls are prostituted and discarded. That is, he will have to learn to live in that environment and the "little" slavery he suffered from older gang members before becoming Mikey's friend.
Mitsuya and Shiba will meet in the same way and will live exactly the same. However, I want to take a little break here, because NO, I don't think Shiba family life is as good as some people think. In fact, in the color panel of the wedding you can see that Taiju is still quite far from his two little brothers. We will have to read the chapter to draw a little more conclusions, but I think that Taiju will never be able to completely redeem himself from what he did as we saw in the manga.
Izana will continue to be abandoned by all the adults around him, which will mold him as a person until Shinichiro finds him. I think this is the most difficult character to read because of the kind of life he has led, but we will have to wait for the little explanation.
Kakucho will also lose his parents in a car accident (see the scar) and the Sano will lose their father in another, and their mother due to an "illness" (which could be a hidden depression in the play, from my point of view).
And etc etc etc.
I mean, of course, Takemichi and Mikey STILL THE SAME (they are the same characters from the beginning, I mean) and it seems that thanks to that knowledge of the facts they have been able to help the vast majority of the characters (if not all, hahahaha), but they will not be able to control all the incidents in the lives of the characters. Probably, they will have spent many battles with Taiju and Izana, before achieving their objective, which, after all, WAS THE OBJECTIVE OF THEM BOTH. Especially Takemichi, our protagonist.
Actually, this ending can be as counterproductive (because of the rush, more than anything, I have already said it on another occasion), as it is appropriate for what Tokyo Revengers is, since it closes the two conflicts that arose from the beginning: "the loneliness" and "save them all" (and the penultimate chapter finally makes sense of the title and makes the best revenge of all: THE REVENGE OF TRYING TO BE HAPPY!). However, he has done it at the cost of MANY UNSOLVED THINGS (and leaving Shinichiro like the unsalted bread he has been from the beginning, haha). However, this seems to me the least serious of all. Let me explain: AN AUTHOR DOES NOT OWE YOU AN EXPLANATION OF EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS. Especially IF EVEN THE MAIN CHARACTERS DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW TIME TRAVEL WORKS OR THEY DOESN'T REALIZE THE THINGS THAT, MAYBE, THE SPECTATOR DOES REALIZE.
Also, Takemichi is our main narrator most of the time, and I already said that he's not a smart enough person to notice this "nonsense", or give it due importance, which makes it much easier for the author leave those "loose ends" without endangering the coherence of the work, or the main character.
It is true that doing something like this is a risk and that ignorance works much better in horror works. I also would have liked it to fix some specific points (like, who was spying on Takemichi in the Bonten arc?), but if not, I DON'T DIE EITHER, TRUTH. Because, if you think about it, what the author has done with this part of the story is to make sure that people like me CHECK THE MANGA INFINITELY, hahaha. It's a great tactic, no doubt.
Or those are my conclusions, before reading the ending, of course.
PS: I see a lot of people saying that that wasn't the ending that Wakui wanted to do or that TokRev should have been a seinen... I honestly have no idea how the manga industry works in Japan. I only know that the publisher itself asked Wakui for a story and he created Tokyo Revengers from there. The first shônen of him. There is nothing wrong with TokRev being shônen, in fact, it is thanks to this work and the genre that Wakui has become known worldwide and if you want to read something about gang members and seinen, you can read Shinjuku Swan, one of his earlier works. I don't see a problem with that, really.
What I would worry about is that Wakui hadn't made the ending he wanted. I guess we'll see that over time. But if he really has made the ending he wanted (and had in mind since Bloody Halloween, as he said in an interview), THEN THERE IS NOTHING WE CAN SAY TO HIM IN THAT SENSE (Not that you can't criticize the ending, but insult him, try to convince him day and night to change the ending, send him pictures of them burning his manga for the ending, and generally harass him for the ending he finished picking out.
I'm not surprised by this attitude, unfortunately, but it's still CRAZY and a huge lack of respect for the artist). Because, as John Katzenbach said in an interview:
"Do what you want to do. The story you tell should be YOUR STORY. Because a lot of people will come to you and say: You know, if you turn this 16-year-old boy into a 20-year-old girl, the story will be much better. ... No. Tell the story you want to tell and have faith in that. It may or may not work... But you'll be happy in the long run, if you stay true to your own vision."
#tokyo revengers#tokrev#tr 278#tr finale#tokyo revengers spoilers#my opinion#ken wakui#tokrev 278#tr ending
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4 9 13 26 32 35! Also not asking you to answer these but the asks about will you play Layton 7 and if you want more games or for the series to end....I'm so sorry to whoever wrote this post years ago
4) What’s your favourite puzzle?
ohh wow this is a tough one! HM! well I have to say puzzle 74 from Diabolical Box PU! is an old favourite, I love a puzzle with a cheeky answer afterall haha - close in second are the banana slip (UF) or skating (DB) puzzles I think, I just find those fun to work out!... puzzle 70 from UF The Third Youngest ALSO is one I adore ... AND DB puzzle 8 Luke's Big Dinner! fdjkshfsd.. ok maybe I have a lot of favourtie puzzles...;;
9) What’s your favourite minigame?
Y'know its gotta be the tea set mini game in diabolical box - you could solve it just playing around with the ingredients BUT luke and hershel's little interactions were a big highlight for me. AND it was fun and a bit stressful trying to brew the right tea for Folsense residents
13) If you could meet any character’s voice actor and have them say something to you as their character, who would you choose and what would you have them say?
MAN oh man... ok so it'd have to be Hershel's voice actor - Christopher robin miller specifically. RLY hard to think of one thing to say. I mean lets go super self indulgent here but I'd adore just a simple "My name is Professor Hershel Layton and this here is my son Luke," *eats that up*
26) How did you discover the series?
I was gifted curious village by my parents! my siblings r big into video games but I struggle with fighting, MMO or strategy games that they seem to enjoy - but really enjoyed visual novels and puzzle point and click games. and so it seemed like a decent gift - and the rest is history i was rly taken with them
32) What was the saddest moment/s in the games for you?
aughg man.. man. I mean. Unwound Future is gut wrenching. The entire end sequence tears my apart everytime. Luke and Hershel's conversation at the statue destroys me. But probably their final scene at the docks rips me up the most... weuguhguh....
35) What Layton meme did you enjoy the most? (Clive and the snails? Desmond’s bread hair?)
HAH! well ok. probably clive and snails fdskfbsdkj its the most innocuous (.... MOSTLY.) and its just funny. Ew a snail. he's such a little priss lol
THANKS FOR ALL THE QUESTIOns fbsdajkhfsad - AND I KNOOWW I KNOOWWWW ITS SUCH an old ask meme hahahha rly dates itself. Op i would LOVE to have played layton 7 IF THEY MADE IT... i would LOVE more games of the MAIN OG CHARACTERS > : ''' ((( dbfajhskdbf
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I will answer your ask today when I get off work!!!!
I wanted to wait until I was in a bit of a better mental state since yesterday I was frantic/angry all day.
In the meantime..... How about this....
Today is a special day for you and your man of choice. Maybe not necessarily like an anniversary of marriage but a different kind of special (maybe even just a shared day off). What do you guys do for your special days? Do you go anywhere?
Hello! Well, you sent me this days ago LOL so I hope you're feeling better by now <3
So, if it's anything like today, I woke up at 8am, scrolled through my phone for half and hour, and went back to bed until about 11am. Slowly got out of bed, ate breakfast around 1145am, and it's almost 1230pm now and I'm thinking about lunch. (It'll be later when I finish writing and then I'm getting lunch!)
I'm gonna guess most days I can't get away with that with Levi? LOL this is rare for me I'm just go sleepy.
ANYway, maybe we go out for breakfast instead of having it in because we're headed out and we don't have to cook and do dishes this way. So Levi explains to the waitress how EXACTLY he likes his tea and it's 'not terrible' according to him which is as good as anyone is going to get haha. We get pancakes and fruit and oatmeal and juice and some banana bread to take with us to snack on in the car.
We're driving about an hour and a half away to go to a blueberry festival! There's some smaller carnival like rides, which we probably skip, but we are not passing by the farm animals! Levi says their dirty but after begging and washing my hands he buys me an overpriced bag of carrots to feed them. He doesn't join in but snaps a picture because it's kind of cute that a goat is making me so happy. Hands are washed three times afterwards until I start complaining.
There's things for kids like tractor rides and bounce houses, and games for adults, like the one where Levi shows off his strength and skills wins me stuffed animals :D At midday there's also a couple shows indoors, like a renaissance one and also a dog show, and a talent contest! We stick around a little bit but keep moving.
There's vendors selling handmade items that are very lovely like purses and dresses and hats, coasters and painting and jewelry, and we admire but don't get too much, except for one large purchase of two wooden rocking chairs for our front porch that we have saved for us.
Then, the food vendors?! Ooohhhh man! We leave with a blueberry pie, jam and a couple other things. We eat up some blueberry ice cream while we're there because it's getting warm and it's really yummy!
There's contests too, and I talk Levi into letting me enter the pie eating contest. Am I going to win? No. But I'll have fun coming in third! I'm a complete mess afterwards and Levi threatens to leave me here when I run around trying to kiss him before cleaning up (he wouldn't though, I don't think lol)
And you can buy pounds of blueberries but why do that when you can pick your own? So we grab a bucket and get out there! Some has been picked through already but we manage to almost fill the bucket and get 7 pounds! Most of it's going in the freezer for future use but some stays out for snacking and smoothies and stuff.
Eventually the sun is going down so we lug all our stuff to the car and have another trip to get the rocking chairs in somehow.
It's been a good day but lots of sun has us sleepy so we splurge one more time and order out on the way home and eat after we put it away and are in bed early. It's been a nice day together :)
In the morning we have the new rocking chairs out on the front porch with a pot of tea just the way we like it, and a bowl of blueberry oatmeal. Sunrise is in a few minutes and this is our new favorite way to spend the morning. We can always nap later :)
Okay well thank you for letting me be self indulgent! That's the first thing that popped into my mind. Maybe next week we're head somewhere different hehe
#moots#moots housecat#leviza#going to a fruit festival is always a yes from me#it's a full day affair and lots of fun!#who wants to come? Let's go!
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Don't worry about the slow reply! The questions are really hard to think of, I've been thinking all week and haven't really come up with anything! ❤️
My top artist this year will probably be Harry, honestly that man has such a hold on me. I can't listen to Kiwi without starting it over again immediately to sing even louder.
I do know your orange cat! Orange cats are notorious for only having one brain cell though, and you are definitely much more intelligent than that ☺️
Middle child is a weird thing, but my older sister didn't live with us, but with her mum, so I think I'm more of an older sibling stereotype!
My big sister hates bananas too, she refused to feed them to my niece when she was a baby because she wouldn't have them in the house 😂 I'm not a massive fan myself but will eat banana bread providing it has chocolate chips in it!
I've only got two questions, you can pick one or both, or none!
What would your perfect date be?
If you could pick one song which represents you as a person, what would you pick?
Yeah, and my imagination this week has been low 🥲
Harry will be on my top 5 but I’m not sure he’ll be my top artist (it’ll be One Direction as always). And kiwi is a song to be listened to multiple times!
Thank you for the compliment haha, and if you really know Nala irl you’ll see she has more than one brain cell, she’s quite intelligent hahah
I don’t know anything about older siblings stereotypes, I don’t even know about only child stereotypes hahah
I don’t think I’ll have children but if I do, I’ll be like your sister, I have to leave the room if someone’s eating a banana! My dad loved them and he had to hide to eat them in the kitchen so I didn’t smell it hahah No to the banana bread 🤢 hahaha
You really think I can pick just one song? Nope hahah I don’t think this song represent me as a person, I can’t think of one now, but this song represents me somehow (not as a person but I won’t elaborate more haha): Comfort by Nicholas Galitzine (which is my top song of the year and I first listened to it on August 🙃)
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May 23rd- Bruges to Antwerp
Woke up, had our coffee, and got all packed and put our luggage in the storage room so we could do some last minute exploration of Finally made it to the churches we wanted to go to from the day before! St Salvatorskathedral and then Onze Lieve Vrouwekerk. St Salvatorkathedral Was very, very opulent. Dark wood, a ton of gold and silver decorations, and for some reason, three organs! One of them looked very new but I have no idea why a church would need so many organs. Probably the fanciest church we have been in this trip.
According to our tour boat driver from the day before, the other church (Onze Lady Vrouwekerk) has the third highest brickwork tower in all Europe, behind only two in Germany. You could not go up in the tower part though, and we went in the beautiful church part but didn’t pay for the museum part to see a Michelangelo sculpture. I didn’t realize that’s what was in the paid part, might have considered it but I thought it was just a museum about the church.
Then we had a moment I’ve been looking forward to all trip! A Belgian waffle! There are two types of waffles commonly sold throughout Belgium, Brussels style and Liege style. They are shaped differently (Brussels looking more like what Americans think of as Belgian waffles) and also the batter is different. I’m pretty sure that Belgians eat their waffles plain, but mom and I got some toppings- mom got whipped cream and strawberries, I got bananas, whipped cream, and chocolate syrup which was an extremely delicious choice even if not authentic haha. (We both got Liege waffles- Wikipedia says the dough is based off a brioche bread dough). They serve them to go and so we did some window shopping while eating, and then went to one more church, the Basilica of the Holy Blood. This church claims to have some of Jesus blood on-site, which was very interesting.
With great reluctance to leave Bruges, we headed back to grab our suitcases and head out of Bruges for Antwerp. Had to roll our suitcases back 20 minutes over cobblestones- tried to go a different route for a hopefully smoother sidewalk, no luck- and then bought a ticket and hopped on the next train to Antwerp! This train took 1.5 hours, had a few stops along the way (backtracked us beside Ghent again and I saw the Belfry and St Baafs and St Nicholas again! Fun!)
Took a quick nap on the train and got off in Antwerp. Antwerp Central Station is the most beautiful train station I have ever been in. We took a bunch of photos, and then headed to our air b n b. We stayed in hotels the rest of the trip, but in Antwerp we are here on a Tuesday and Wednesday night which aren’t as popular travel destinations so we got a good price on an apartment style air b n b. We have so much space- including a kitchen, and Also, there is a private rooftop with a view over the Stadspark! Our air b n b host came and greeted us and gave us an overview of the city and made some recommendations of things to do while we are here. He told us two nights weren’t enough and was so proud to welcome us to his city and his apartment.
However, The trade off of such a cool apartment is that we are farther from the action here. We have another city pass here and for the first time I think we will be taking more advantage of the trams and buses to get around! we walked about 20-30 minutes to get to Antwerps tourist center, which is located in an old castle/ fortress on the river, and bought our city pass. In Ghent the pass was a physical card; in Antwerp it’s a website you can scan QR codes to redeem. how modern haha. The goal for tomorrow is to go to enough museums to make the pass worth the money! we talked about the pass and decided even if we didn’t quite spend enough to make it worth it, it’s really nice to have the flexibility for unlimited public transport since we are further away (side note as I wrote this we learned that this city card includes a brewery tour with two free beers included. That line item puts us over the top with the city card, so it side end up saving us a few bucks 😂)
After two such cute towns/ cities in Ghent and Bruges, Antwerp was a bit of a shock to the system. Much bigger city and some parts are pretty dirty, and then you walk around the next corner and see a beautiful cathedral or some really cool architecture which is kind of jarring. Even some of the pretty buildings look like they could use a good power washing… we had time for one museum before dinner so chose our museum based on the only thing Mom knew about Antwerp before coming here- they are famous for their diamond industry. (Before this trip I knew about the fancy train station but did not know they were famous for diamonds) We went to Diva, which was a diamond museum! Again had a little audio guide, and there were exhibits on the current and past state of diamond mining and cutting in Antwerp (80% of the worlds raw diamonds get processed/ cut in Antwerp) they had Some exhibits of diamond jewelry but really not enough in my opinion. then they had a little side exhibit of fancy cutlery and plates and I wasn’t impressed. the diamond museum needs more diamonds 💎
Mom and I were famished by the end of the diamond museum and quickly made it to the Grote Markt or main square of Antwerp, and enjoyed dinner at a Random place while taking in the square (mom had a pasta dish and a Brugs Wit beer- the one we had yesterday at 2Be. I had a chicken pot pie type dish and a beer from a local brewery in Antwerp. we then went for a walk near the Scheldt river and went to admire the evening view from the top of the MAS museum! We may go back tomorrow to actually go to the museum, but you can get a nice view of the city from the top which is always my goal in a new European city. This view was on the 10th floor, and luckily, while there was no elevator, we did not have to take the stairs: wound around the building taking the escalators to the top! And the view was great!
then we took advantage of our city card by taking the bus back to our apartment instead of walking. Finished the evening grabbing some hummus, cheese, crackers, truffles, and a bottle of wine which we enjoyed out on our patio overlooking the park while watching the sun set. another lovely day in Europe 🙂
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What’s *really* wrong with Secretary Kim? - chapter 4
Secretary!Mingyu x fem!reader / 3.5k
Sum: Mingyu models for you again and you can’t help yourself. (ft bestie Jeonghan).
chapter warnings: swearing, food mentions, suggestive, lil angst, fluff, mentions of alcohol
Song rec (for this chapter) - I Want You To Want Me - Letters to Cleo
A/N: am I crazy or did one of the members call him Mango once? Still a fresh carat here so if anyone knows please share with the class haha. Penultimate chapter. Also support Ruby by Woozi, it’s insane!
Links to ch 1 / ch 2 / ch 3 / ch 5
Taglist: @lavendersvt , @fav9yu
Chapter 4
Turns out your next bad decision came not too long after the previous one. Your phone rang the next day, Mingyu announcing that he had baked banana bread with caramel glazing (was that even a thing, you wondered) and informed you that he was going to drop some off for you in an hour. That’s when you decided to ask him for another round of modelling.
You’d wanted another photography session and you’d found yesterday’s to be too lonely as you just took close up pictures of your back garden; a leaf here, a mushroom there. Cute but snore. You had been bored, the few friends you had all busy and/or unavailable so you’d been alone pretty much the whole time. Save for hanging out with Soonyoung whilst cleaning and photographing Mingyu.
You took a quick shower and thew on a pair of grey sweats and a plum coloured vest with spaghetti straps, omitting a bra last minute as you felt like experimenting with Mingyu’s reactions and patience. Yet another rendition of your slightly unhinged, bored self making impulsive decisions. What could you say? At work you had to always be put together but your vacation had been an opportunity to do whatever you wanted.
It wasn’t long until Mingyu showed up, loose-fitting indigo button up shirt with the first couple buttons undone, Tupperware full of banana bread in hand and sparkling smile equipped. You let him in and he followed you to the kitchen, depositing the banana bread on the counter and moving to grab some plates and cutlery. The scene didn’t even seem odd as you were more used to Mingyu cooking in your kitchen than you cooking in your own kitchen. He enjoyed how spacious it was and you liked seeing him have a good time.
“What have you been up to lately?” He asked as he cut the bread. As soon as he had opened the box, the gorgeous smell had wafted up to your nose and took you by storm. By the time Mingyu sunk the knife into the loaf, you were positively salivating.
“Nothing much; taking photos, romancing myself and giving zero fucks.” You listed and you added an exaggerated stretch, knowing exactly how your top became snug, hugging your curves as you lifted your arms. The desired effect was achieved as you noticed Mingyu’s eyes lingered for a split second but he carried on apportioning the banana bread as if he hadn’t noticed.
“That sounds good, better than sinking into a serious existential crisis.”
“Don’t remind me, I haven’t given it much thought because I just needed to clear my head.” You watched Mingyu as he placed two slices of banana bread on a plate each and push one towards you. “Thanks.” He was silent for a second, picking at his own slice.
“You’re not actually going to quit are you?” His voice was almost at a whisper, eyes firmly planted on the plate, pout accompanying. You stopped, loaded fork mere inches from your mouth and looked at Mingyu. He looked a little miserable and you inferred it was from the topic of conversation. You hadn’t thought what he’d do if you quit; probably become the next CEO’s secretary, and it would probably be Jeonghan, at least at first. Then, you had no idea.
“‘Gyu,” you started softly. “I don’t know yet-” you confessed.
“It’s okay, let’s not talk about it then, go on, try the bread.” He put on a smile and gestured to your uneaten forkful. You agreed and took a bite. It was like your mind expanded in a matter of seconds to accommodate the galaxy of flavours that were produced in the bread - and it blew up. You half-moaned, half-hummed at the taste, eyes wide and glaring at Mingyu.
“You are making that again, I don’t care when, but I’m reserving a slice from now. Tell everyone else to get in line.” You gushed and hurried for another bite, savouring the mouthful as you chewed in delight. Mingyu was quiet, watching you, his own plate untouched, the look on his face difficult to pinpoint, but if you wanted to hazard a guess, it was an expression of fulfilment. Satisfaction. It unnerved you how affectionate it seemed but you tried not to read too much into it as you enjoyed the rest of the slice.
As soon as you mentioned another session, Mingyu practically jumped at the opportunity. You speculated that he liked the attention, after all if he ever got any attention at work or events (you could spot his handsomeness from a mile away if you had eyes) from people mistaking him as the CEO and you as the secretary, he happily relinquished it by correcting them, and they turned their backs to him and started trying to rub shoulders with you instead. You always hated the way they would push past Mingyu to get to you, making you feel like Mingyu was your abandoned puppy.
You were more than happy to give Mingyu the attention he deserved from behind your camera. You’d decided to have a photoshoot in the garden since it was a lovely day. There was a very gentle breeze but it was still super hot outside, the promise of a blistering summer hanging in the air. You asked him to pose in various places, snapping photos fairly quickly and precisely now that you were getting used to it again.
After a few minutes you asked him to pose next to a tree, its low hanging branches not much taller than Mingyu himself, indeed some of them were just below his height. You captured a particularly well timed photo before a bee interrupted the serenity between you two, circling Mingyu until he was practically dancing on his tip toes trying to get away from the bee, not watching where he was going and walking into a branch. You were pretty sure the leaves probably entered his mouth, before he yelped and jumped back, falling to the ground.
“Mingyu!” You exclaimed and rushed to him, laugh bubbling up in your chest when you saw he was absolutely fine. He was lying there, dazed, this giant man K.O.ed by a tiny bee and a couple of leaves. You couldn’t help laughing at how cutely he lay there, shrivelled up on the grass. A tiny laugh escaped his lips, joining you in laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“You’re such a coward,” you teased him as you helped him get up, words lacking bite. Mingyu pouted for a second.
“M’not a coward. That leaf came out of nowhere.” He mumbled. You didn’t give him time to sulk.
“Okay, okay, let’s keep going.” You got back on task, still smiling. Mingyu turned away and walked back to the tree. When he turned around in position, you stopped short, finger hovering above the camera button. He had unbuttoned his shirt and was standing there, suddenly cool, perfect posture showing off his toned abs and bulky chest.
You weren’t sure what you were doing, but the click of the camera told you that you’d carried on, playing along with Mingyu’s antics. You didn’t miss a beat, continuing as if he hadn’t done anything. He posed a few more times, and you snapped each new pose silently.
You paused for a while, monitoring the photos, turning your head away from Mingyu and shielding the camera screen from the sun so you could see the photos. They had come out pretty good, only one or two weren’t quite up to par but it wasn’t fatal.
You turned back to Mingyu and were completely dumbfounded. He lay in the grass propped up on one elbow, about seven feet away from you, shirtless under the sweltering sun, a large hand draped dramatically over his eyes drooping half-closed, triceps on show for the camera. You remained stone faced to the best of your ability, unaffected as far as Mingyu could see. You couldn’t help but sigh and ask.
“Mango, what are you doing?” The nickname rolled off your tongue without warning.
“Paint me like one of your French girls.” He replied with no hesitation and completely unfazed. Dork. You burst out laughing, working up your volume into an ugly cackle that you were sure Soonyoung could probably hear on his land. Mingyu was shaking with silent laughter but adamantly held his pose until you raised you camera again. Humour him, you thought, he was pretty cute, and well - pretty and cute.
You only took a few photos for fun and went to inspect the finished product. You were so concentrated that you didn’t notice Mingyu creep up behind you until he suddenly rested his chin on your bare shoulder, attempting to peer at the photos. You stiffened at the contact for a split second but didn’t jerk away. You held the camera so he could get a better view. You made the mistake of turning your head to catch a glimpse of his face only to find yourself nose to nose with him.
The two of you were still for a heartbeat, breathing the same air, his eyes boring into yours, and you swear you didn’t know what it was, but you felt yourself being pulled toward Mingyu, some invisible hand pushing you as you closed the space between you and tentatively brushed your lips against his. There was no hesitation as he kissed you back, lips moulding onto yours as he bought a hand to cradle your face whilst he straightened up a tad. His other hand came to land on your shoulder, the strap of your top being knocked to the side in the movement as his hand touched the warm flesh there.
You barely breathed, coming apart only a few millimetres for air, lest one of you would disappear and you deepened the kiss, bringing a hand to the back of his neck to keep his mouth glued to yours. His hands made their way to grip your hips tenderly, sliding up until his wrists brushed the swell of your breasts, a slight shiver threatening to wash over you at the unexpected contact. You sighed into the kiss, but only a moment later, Mingyu pulled away, deer in the headlights and speechless.
“I-” he gulped. “I’m sorry.” He breathed out and rushed to find his discarded shirt before practically sprinting away from you and back into the house. You were frozen, a life size statute in your little garden, unable to process what just happened, the emotions swirling in your brain and the tingles left buzzing on your lips and heart thumping in your chest. You were aware of the camera still in your hand and the breeze caressing your exposed shoulder.
How were you supposed to move on from that?
***
You moved as if you were possessed for days, unsure of what you were doing or what you weren’t doing. It resulted in you almost setting your kitchen on fire via frying pan and almost tripping on a stray sock in your laundry room. You weren’t usually that clumsy, but you realised it must just be the ‘Mingyu effect’.
You’d thought a lot about what happened.
The scene was etched into your mind, a reel stuck on replay without any sign of ending. You still recalled the feeling of his lips against yours, his warm hand resting on your shoulder, skin to skin, and the way you felt dizzy after you realised he had run out.
“Coward,” you whispered to yourself in your empty kitchen. Which one of you was the bigger coward was beyond you right now. You could have tried to hold on to him, you lamented. You weren’t sure what to do or say, so you didn’t. You didn’t contact him and he didn’t contact you. It was truly radio silence between you two, for the first time ever. You hated it.
You called Jeonghan to catch up with him instead and ask how the week had gone in the office. He came around Friday night, sweats and sweater clad, the epitome of anti-corporate attire. You worried for a second that he’d set a surprise casual Friday without consulting you. Again.
(Jeonghan, the pathological prankster, had done it as a prank on Mingyu but it had turned to be a joke on you and Mingyu since you didn’t get the memo either. The two of you showed up to work as a set in your formal clothes. It was strange being the prankee rather than the pranker, but since being around Mingyu, it was becoming a regular occurrence.)
Jeonghan bought you some carbonara from a restaurant you two had often gone to to catch up, back before you had your company. He knew how much you liked it and he got himself some lobster stuffed ravioli ‘because now I make big bucks’ and was fulfilling a personal vendetta since he hadn’t been able to afford it all those years ago.
You were hesitant to tell him exactly what had gone on between you and Mingyu so you listened to his report on the office first, ‘hmm’-ing and ‘ahh’-ing as you tucked into your pasta. Jeonghan had managed to do everything that you’d left for him and then some, not surprisingly since he was Yoon Jeonghan (full name use necessary) and he was brilliant.
“You know, Wonwoo? Silent dude, phantom type, don’t see him in the daylight much?” He inquired after a while, spearing a ravioli on his fork. You nodded.
“Sure.”
“Well, he came by my office.” uh-oh.
“So? What about it?” You chewed, attempting to avoid Jeonghan’s suspicion-filled gaze.
“‘So?’ So, he asked me how it was going.” He said, baffled. “He never asks anyone how it’s going. There’s never been a sighting of him in other offices either.” You shrugged and kept chewing. “It was just odd. You don’t know anything about it, do you? It’s almost as if someone had asked him to check up on me.” You felt Jeonghan’s inquiring eyes on you.
So you did what anyone with a shred of self-preservation instinct would.
“I kissed Mingyu.” You blurted out. Jeonghan’s fork clattered to the floor.
“You did what, with who?”
“You heard me, Hannie, don’t make me repeat myself.” You used your CEO voice on him, but it came out a little shaky.
“You know, I’m shocked but not surprised.” He said finally, retrieving his fork.
“What does that mean?” You asked a little too defensively.
“I see the way you look at him, sweetie, I know you better than you think. You haven’t looked at anyone like that since Jihoon.” Jeonghan knew exactly how to make a point.
Jihoon had been your boyfriend in college for almost two years and the only person you’d ever had a meaningful romantic relationship with. It had been great, you really had loved him and he you, but you had to grow up and join the real world and in the real world you worked forty plus hour weeks when you started at the bottom of the food chain. His job hours were unusual and yours drained you beyond recognition, so you’d amicably called it quits.
You’d seen him once since you’d let him go at an art gallery where his company, a music label, held some album launch party and he’d invited you one last time. That was years ago and since then you hadn’t committed to anyone, thinking that it was just nice to see people casually, without getting attached. It had worked just fine and suited your social recluse tendencies well.
It dawned on you that you’d been too busy working with him to notice how Mingyu had carved himself into your heart, one smile, one clumsy move, and one baked good at a time. He was the person you wanted to thank, to apologise to, the one you missed even if you’d just seen him.
“Op, there it is. About time.” Jeonghan smirked knowingly at the dazed expression on your face. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you changed the subject. We’re not done talking.”
***
Saturday night came and you allowed yourself to burry yourself in blankets and binge a TV show. Whilst the floodgates were open you allowed yourself to dump a frozen pizza in your oven and ate it with vigour once it was done. It was pretty nice, doing nothing in particular.
You spent a couple of hours doing that, then a few more until it was two in the morning and you wanted to crash hard. You turned the TV off and started towards the staircase but nearly jumped out of your skin when your doorbell rang. At this hour, who could it be beside a serial killer, you thought but checked your security camera to find a couple of familiar figures on your doorstep.
You rushed immediately to the door and flung it open to reveal a very laboured Seokmin (in charge of your floor’s reception desk) and slumped against him, a clearly drunk Mingyu. The image was rather alarming, if not slightly comical, your usually bright sunshine of a secretary totally out of commission.
“What the fuck?” You yelped before Seokmin could even say ‘hi’. You ushered them in and made Seokmin bring Mingyu to the couch so he could explain.
“Is he okay?” You asked Seokmin.
“Define ‘okay’?”
“Seokmin!”
“Okay, okay, he’s fine, just fucked up into the stratosphere that’s all. We went drinking, a few friends of ours and Mingyu decided he wanted to get smashed. Then we got to his place and he couldn’t remember the passcode and he kept saying ‘go to YN’s house’ and ‘I wanna see YN’. So here, a present for ya.” Seokmin grinned.
“Oh my god.” You said under your breath. “Okay, bring him to the guest bedroom.”
The only person ever to use your guest bedroom was indeed Mingyu, and he’d stayed there a few times during emergencies, such as the Night of the Plunging Stocks, legendary Duck Momo shirt on in all its glory.
You got Mingyu a glass of water and some painkillers as Seokmin tried to reverse Cinderella his shoes off for him. Soon he was lying down in the bed, trashcan beside it in case the poison decided to leave him, and Seokmin huffing and puffing about how heavy Mingyu was. You sat down on the side of the bed, careful not to wake him as it dipped slightly, but then you realised he’s already out of it.
“How much did he drink?” You asked.
“Hah! How much didn’t he drink, is the question.” Seokmin laughed in disbelief. “I don’t actually know, that’s why I bought him here.”
“Thanks, I so very wanted an overgrown puppy to nurse over the weekend.” You paused. “Thanks for looking out for him.” You said to Seokmin. He shook his head.
“No, thank you for letting him crash here. Dummy forgot his passcode then chewed my ear off to come here.”
“Let it slide, he’s totally pissed. I’d forget my own name if I was that drunk.” You replied.
“Well, I should go. Thanks anyways. Goodnight, Boss.”
“Night, Seokmin.” You stayed a little while longer with Mingyu as Seokmin let himself out. He seemed so still, eyes closed and off to slumberland. You hadn’t seen him or spoken to him since he ran away that day. You decided to get up from the bed only to hear Mingyu’s objecting ‘hmm’. His eyes opened slightly but didn’t hold up.
“Don’t go,” he mumbled, but it sounded more like ‘dun g-’
“Okay, I’m here.” You conceded. He shifted at the sound of your voice, as if trying to echolocate you before his hand landed in your lap. Then out of nowhere:
“Kiss my forehead, please.” He was mumbling into the pillow but your ears weren’t ones to deceive you for the most part. “Please.” He breathed. You had half the mind to want to laugh at his adorableness but also found yourself leaning in to deposit a soft peck on his temple.
“Stroke my hair, please.” You reached out automatically but hesitated. Then you thought you’d already given in once, so you obliged him again, gently running your fingertips over his soft locks. The corners of Mingyu’s mouth twitched into the ghost of smile.
“You’re so cute,” he whispered. It caught you by surprise. So he was a whiny, affectionate, clingy drunk. “S’cool an’ badass ‘nd sexy.” He continued. It was all muffled but you were amazed by the diversity of his drunk vocabulary. Truly impressive.
“I liove you.” He mumbled. Your fingers froze. You processed the words; it’s as if he tried to say ‘like’ and ‘love’ at the same time and it just came out all slurred together. You knew he was basically blackout drunk but you let the words wash over you and it made your heart clench when the desire to reciprocate bubbled up in your chest.
Instead you brushed your thumb over his knuckles, the non-offending offending hand in your lap, and whispered:
“You’re gonna regret this in the morning.” But you realised your words fell on deaf ears as this time, Mingyu was actually lights out. And you left him there, sleeping peacefully whilst you allowed those few little words to cause a great turmoil inside your being.
You didn’t sleep for a while but lay under the covers of your own bed, staring up the the ceiling, wondering and wondering into the depths of the night …
***
*copyright 2021 © momobani
#seventeen#kim mingyu#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#kim mingyu scenarios#kim mingyu imagines#seventeen x reader#kim mingyu x reader#seventeen fluff#kim mingyu fluff#seventeen angst#kim mingyu angst#momobani.writes
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Hi! Can I request a bucky Barnes one shot with the line “I think that you’re not as dark as you want people to believe” please?
a/n: yup yup !! i hope you enjoy <333 I kinda went overboard on this one hehe,, feel free to send in some bucky requests !! pls tell me what u guys think !!
word count: 5.1k ,,, i said it was long,,
minor faws spoilers ?
bucky paints himself as a villain, someone to avoid at all costs. you think he’s too scared to admit how soft he really is.
masterlist
A groan escaped your lips as you mindlessly moved your hand around, trying to find where your phone was in order to turn off your alarm. You sighed as you finally found it quickly shutting it off and closing your eyes again. You lay there with an empty mind, sleep about to over come you again, thoughts of soft sheets and cozy couch- ding! ding! ding!
You jumped up in surprise, heart racing as your second alarm went off. Rubbing your eyes you tumbled out of bed, shuffling to the restroom to change and get your morning started. You headed out the door of your apartment, locking it quickly before going to work, taking notice of the uhaul truck parked outside.
As the day went by you went through the motions of your day, you were itching to get back home, eager to see if you had new neighbors or not. The last time you had neighbors it was a sweet old man, he brought you banana bread when he first moved in, telling you he hoped to be a good neighbor to you.
You had grown close to him, Stan, soon thinking of him like your own grandpa, but he moved away to live with one of her children. He had taught you to be more level headed and less stubborn and always treat other with kindness.
The thought of him warmed your heart, deciding then that if you had a new neighbor you would bake them some banana bread as a welcome gift, you hoped they were around your age since you didn’t have many friends and most of them were too busy half the time to hang out with you.
As you returned home, the door for the apartment next door was wide open and you could hear voices talking while boxes were moved around.
“Steve i can move it on my own youll break your back trying” a deep voice spoke, another one followed, this one lighter and raspier.
“you and i are the same age shut up” the other man spoke. You smiled as the two bickered, probably a son and his dad or grandfather you guessed.
You changed quickly, taking note of missing ingredients for your banana bread and headed to the store, giddy to meet your new neighbors. You had never been outgoing, throughout college you barely made any friends because you were too scared to talk to strangers, but you were trying to turn a new leaf now.
After paying and heading back to your apartment you quickly got to work, mashing bananas and singing along to your music. Finally popping the bread into the over and sitting on your couch, it was already 8 pm so you hoped your new neighbors would still be up, or else you would have to wait until tomorrow and you didn’t want to give them cold bread.
As the oven dinged and you made sure the bread was perfectly cooked you grinned ear to ear, taking it out and placing it on a plate you had bought earlier, the sides were adorned with a simple but cute floral design and you hoped they liked it.
You were about to head out the door when you took note of your outfit, you but your lip and decided to change clothes quickly, putting on some looser jeans, a white t shirt and a thin sweater.
You grabbed the plate and headed out, listening to see if there was any sound coming from the apartment, luckily you could hear the tv, they were watching a soccer game.
“okay okay, just knock say hello, bread then go easy!” You whispered you yourself, heart racing and palms getting sweaty. You backed away from the door slowly, nerves getting the best of you.
“No i can do this i can do this!” You scolded yourself, in one swift motion you knocked on the door before you could think. You face falling as you realized you had actually knocked, what if it was too loud? What if they thought you were rude now and that you were- oh, wow.
The door opened and there stood none other than Bucky Barnes. You recognized him quickly since he was all over your timeline on Twitter, everyone gushing about how hot he was and how he deserved better. Your mind was blank now that he looked down at you.
“can i help you?” He asked, looking at you and then at the bread, and then back at you. Your eyes widened and you nodded.
“oh yes! bread! I mean heres bread! i made it- here is some bread that i made as a welcome gift, like welcome to your apartment” you rambled, your face was burning and you hoped that somehow he couldn’t tell, maybe girls in the 40’s didn’t blush so he didn’t know what was wrong with your face you thought.
“oh?” was all he said, he could hear your heartbeat racing, he thought you were terrified of him, rushing though your words to get away from him as soon as heavenly possible. Bucky heard you rehearsing outside his door, a small smile on his face as you got the courage to knock, he was excited, maybe he could try to be your friend, his therapist said he needed it, maybe you wouldn’t recognize him and he could start new.
All that was thrown out the window when your eyes widened and your heart began to race faster as you saw him, obviously you knew him, he was the talk of the town at the moment.
“oh my god sorry! I’m y/n, i live right next door” you smiled softly, cocking your head in the direction of your apartment, the plate still in your hands and you wanted to cry because why hasn’t he grabbed the bread yet when i made it just for you.
“I didn’t know if you liked chocolate chip in your banana bread or not so i made it half with and half without i hope that okay” you continued, hoping he would take the hint and grab the plate from you. Thankfully he did and you sighed softly, glad that he took it.
“I uh- don’t really have an opinion” he stated, his lips pressed to a thin line for a second before he cracked a small smile at you, happily returning it.
“well let me know which you preferred” you laughed and he nodded.
“I’m James by the way” he said, placing the plate on a box next to him, “I’ll just got put this on a plate and I’ll give you yours back give me a second” he began and you quickly shook your head at him.
“Oh no! The plate is yours too! you can keep it” you grinned and his mouth opened a bit, no one was this nice to him besides steve. You were too kind, too caring and soft and he didn’t want to taint you or weigh you down with his baggage.
“oh uh, thank you” he cleared his throat, his mind racing and telling him to stop talking to you, leave you alone before he ruins your life like he ruins everything else. “It’s late so you should uh probably go” he started and you felt your stomach drop, part of you upset he didn’t try to talk to you more.
“oh yeah, sorry, have a good night! I hope you like the bread haha, if you need anything I’m right next door” you shot him a grin and he simply closed the door, a frown on your face as you walked to your apartment.
You let out a sigh before your eyes watered a bit. You were never gonna try and make friends again you told yourself, heading to your room to get your pjs and going to the restroom to shower.
Bucky could hear the music from your phone through the walls, they were thin enough to begin with but his super soldier hearing didn’t do him any favors. He could hear the rumble of your voice but he couldn’t make out the words as you sang.
Bucky smiled a little bit, you were so pretty and sweet. No one had even made him banana bread before, let alone make him half with chocolate chips and half without.
Bucky munched on the banana bread, deciding he liked the one with chocolate chips better. A smile on his face as he mindlessly watched his tv, thoughts only of the pretty girl next door.
You finished showering and quickly got changed, sitting on your couch and flipping through channels until settling on reruns of your favorite show. You were bored out of your mind and were about to head to sleep when a knock at the door scared you.
You grabbed your pepper spray from your bag and looked through the peep hole, letting out a sigh when you saw it was just bucky. You put the pepper spray back and rushed to open the door.
“hi bucky” you smiled and he pressed his lips into a thin line.
“I liked the chocolate chip one better” he spoke, looking at floor then at you. There was a smile painted on your face and you nodded.
“Guess I’ll have to make you more with chocolate chips huh” you joked and he smiled a bit before stopping himself.
“I’ll uh see you tomorrow” he spoke before heading back to his apartment and you smiled.
It was a little bit, but it was something.
The first week was pretty stagnant, not much conversation and just small waves from your end. The second week was better, he waved back at you and even gave you music recommendations. By the third week he was coming around more, telling you good morning and goodnight if you bumped into each other in the hall.
He helped you bring a pack of water up after seeing you struggle with the first one.
“I can- i can just help you with that if you want” he spoke from behind you, and you looked at him breathless.
“oh my god please” you sighed, he quickly took the waters from you and lifted them with ease, you stared at him in shock before opening the door to your apartment.
“You can just set it on the counter” you spoke, starting to take everything out of the grocery bags. “I’m uh i was gonna actually cook dinner tonight, if you want to come- not that you have to! I mean i can just give some to you and you don’t have to come over” you reasoned, rambling to the super soldier.
“I’m busy tonight actually” he spoke and you flushed red.
“Oh yeah no! Of course you being a hero in all, that’s fine! thanks for the water help” you smiled, he returned it before exiting and closing the door.
You scolded yourself, obviously he didn’t want to hang out with you god you were trying too hard.
By the time it hit a month and a half of bucky moving in you had given up, he seemed to be stuck in a funk, constantly brooding and avoiding you at all costs.
You baked some banana bread, adding extra chocolate chips and deciding to give him it and try to cheer him up, making get him out of his funk.
You knocked on his door and he opened it quickly. You smiled at the man and shoved the banana bread into his chest.
“I noticed you were upset and so i thought this would help, extra chocolate chips” you grinned as his face broke into a smile.
You turned to leave but Bucky grabbed your wrist, turning you around to face him.
“i- uh do you wanna come in?” He spoke, his voice wavering.
“I’d love to” you replied, following him into his apartment, a smile on your face as your eyes wandered.
“i know it’s not the best, your place is a lot more furnished” he spoke, setting the banana bread down on the kitchen counter.
“that’s okay, as long as you feel at home is all that matters” you said, smiling at him while he sliced the bread.
“I shouldn’t be doing this” he mumbled, “maybe you should go” he spoke, setting the knife down and looking at him.
“oh” was all you said, not knowing what to do.
“I’m just- fuck, look it’s not you i just” he cut himself off, sighing and squeezing his eyes shut for a second before opening them again.
“bucky it’s fine i can go” you whispered, setting a reassuring hand on his metal one.
He expected you to flinch, turn away at the cold feeling. But you didn’t. You kept your focus on him.
“I don’t want you to” he spoke softly, eyes locking on yours.
“i don’t want you to but you should, because I’m always ruining things, I’m always messing something up. Everyone i love or care about gets hurt- it’s like I’m some dark force that ruins anything good. I cant do that to you y/n” he finished, pulling away.
You debated on giving him space or wrapping your arms around him, you could tell what he needed more.
“I think you’re not as dark as you want people to believe” you spoke simply. Looking at the super soldier square in the eyes.
“You walk around brooding and acting like you hate everyone but in reality i think you’re too scared to let anyone in. You aren’t evil or dark. Youre insecure and scared, you just need someone to show they care but you don’t let anyone do that.”
Bucky looked at you in shock, not even Sam talked to him like that. Your eyes went wide as you realized everything you said.
“I’m sorry i don’t know where that came from- i can leave I’ll go i just- i just want you to know that I’m here, no matter what time it is I’m here” you mumbled, quickly leaving his apartment and going to yours.
Bucky stood there in shock, you were right. Everything you said was right. He was scared, he was terrified of letting someone in only to have them ripped from him. He didn’t want to run after you immediately, he had to think through his feelings.
He showered and changed into some comfy shorts and sitting on the floor next to his couch and turning on a soccer match.
His heart raced, brows furrowing as scenes as the winter soldier played over and over in his head. The sound of a gunshot in his dream made him shoot up. A thin line of sweat on his forehead had formed and he was panting.
He ran to the restroom, washing his face with cool water and listening to the faucet as his breathing steadied.
He checked the clock, 2:25 am. He threw on a cozy black henley and walked next door, he was scared. Knocking softly twice he waited for a second, his advanced hearing picking up on some shuffling inside.
You opened the door, a bat in hand that quickly fell to your side when you saw the state bucky was in.
“oh buck what happened? are you okay?” You asked, instinct taking over as you wrapped your arms around him, leading him to the couch.
“i had a nightmare” he whispered, eyes not leaving the floor.
“do you want to talk about it?” You asked, he shook his head and you nodded. You grabbed a fluffy blanket and handed it to him, giving him the controller to your tv and excusing yourself into the kitchen.
You made two cups of hot chocolate, adding extra marshmallows to his. You carried them carefully to the living room and set them on the table, pushing the one with more marshmallows towards him.
“maybe this’ll help you relax” you smiled and he thanked you, taking a sip. The two of you watching tv in silence, drinking hot chocolate and sitting close together.
By the time it was 3 am you were yawning, tired from your busy day. Guilt rushed over bucky, realizing he had woken you up and you had to be at work early.
“I’m sorry i should go it’s late and-” Bucky started, getting up and you stopped him, pulling him down softly.
“it’s okay, tomorrow’s Saturday” you smiled softly, his mouth forming into an ‘o’ shape.
“You don’t have to leave unless you want to, I’ll stay here for as long as you want” you assured him, placing your hand on his one more time and smiled, eyes soft and heart swelling.
You fell asleep watching tv, Bucky was wide awake, but the steady beat of your heart soon caused him to drift off not long after.
Something changed that night, Bucky became more comfortable around you, inviting you to dinner more and texting you when he didn’t see you. He even had made you banana bread, which he vowed never to do again because it turned out horribly.
You had it bad, you were so whipped for him and he was so whipped for you, both of you harboring a crush and neither of you realized.
It had been three months since bucky moved in, the last month and a half had been a blur. You and Bucky hanging out at any and every chance, going on walks together in the afternoon and even grocery shopping together. You had to museums and taken care of him after mission. You gave him hot chocolate after a nightmare and stayed with him until he fell asleep again.
Bucky helped you de stress, getting you away from paper work when you were too tired and getting you out of the house when you were cooped up during the weekends. He helped you become more confident, complimenting you any chance he got and getting shy around you.
Bucky had another nightmare, and as if instinct he got up, a frown on his face as he knocked twice softly on your door.
“‘M sorry doll” he whispered and you shook your head, holding his hand and leaving him into your room.
You were so tired, you had woke up at 6 am to get to work early after they called you in saying it was urgent. You had spent all day running around getting home later than usual. It was 9 pm by the time you were showered and having dinner.
You had called one of your friends, catching up with them since you missed their call earlier, talking until 2 am when you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer.
By the time your head hit the pillow you were out, you didn’t know how you even heard buckys soft knocking. But sure enough you got up, and let him in, you lead him to your room without second thought.
You gently shoved him on the bed, moving to the other side and snuggling back under your sheets. “gnight” was all you said before passing out again.
Bucky was shocked, did you trust him that much? Did he really mean this much to you? You were exhausted and yet you still took care of him. His heart melted and he quietly took off his shoes, holding them in his hand as he walked to the couch, laying down and covering himself with the blanket you had given him the first time he came.
Morning came and you came out of your room, Bucky sound asleep on your couch, a fond smile on your face. You began to make the two do you breakfast, as quiet as you could so that you didn’t wake him, luckily he slept through it all.
You shook him softly, whispering for him to wake up when you finished, slowly he got up. Rubbing his eyes as you told him to go sit at table to eat his breakfast.
The two of you eating and chatting, both still tired.
“I didn’t sleep in your bed, i know you took me but i don’t know i felt like you were just too tired to think” he told you, your face burned from how hard you were blushing.
“I did what?” You asked, eyes wide. Bucky only laughed and shook his head.
“I figured you were just too tired to think of anything else so i took myself to the couch” he smiled and you giggled.
“did you sleep well at least?” You questioned and he nodded.
“not as well as i do with you by my side” he smirked and you chocked on your water, coughing at his statement.
“oh my god you- it’s 10 am can i please get a warning” you shrieked and he sat there confused.
“I’m sorry?” He said, both amused and confused.
“I’ll wash the plates!” You spoke quickly, getting up and taking his plate and heading towards the sink.
“I have to go, i have a thing with Sam today” he sighed and you nodded, “okay have fun, good luck and be safe buck” you spoke and he smiled, heading out the door, excited to see you again later.
“No sam like i like her” Bucky spoke, walking besides the man as he looked at something on his phone.
“oh you mean like, like like her” Sam teased, keeping a straight face.
“god i hate you” bucky groaned, regretting ever saying anything to the man.
“well if you like her why don’t you cook her some dinner, or take her to a park for a picnic or something” he shrugged.
“woo her with your charming cyborg mind” Sam smirked and Bucky glared at him.
“i cant- i don’t know how to and plus she probably doesn’t even like me” Bucky began and Sam stopped in his tracks.
“she makes you banana bread, hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and sleeps on the couch to keep you company after you have a nightmare” he spoke, looking at Bucky like he was crazy.
“yes” Bucky stated, brows furrowed.
“oh my god you idiot obviously she likes you” was all Sam said before continuing to walk.
Buckys mind kept drifting to you, did you like him too? Maybe he should take you on a date, you talked about ice skating one time maybe he should take you to a rink, or maybe a museum.
You were exhausted by the time you finished washing dishes, you had barely been sleeping this past couple weeks, always trying to stay awake just in case bucky needed you.
You didn’t mind it, you loved that he trusted you enough to seek comfort in you. Watching movies with him at night to help get his mind off things was your favorite thing, sharing popcorn and eventually he would fall asleep. He was finally getting rest and that’s all that mattered to you.
Your phone dinged as you watched some tv, a text from Bucky.
hi y/n
You smiled, heart pounding and stomach doing flips, you replied after a minute. You didn’t want to seem too eager.
hi buck! i hope all is well w you and sam :]
Buckys heart rate sped up at the site of your text, nervous as he typed out the message.
You saw the three bubbles appear, then disappear and then appear again. Was he okay?
“okay read this” Bucky shoved his phone towards Sam, he nodded in approval.
“no no too much right? let me change it” Bucky shook his head, deleting the text before starting a new one.
“Bucky just-” Sam began but was cut off by Bucky shoving his phone in his face once more.
“Yes bucky it’s good now send it” Sam groaned, just wanting his friend to finally go on a (successful) date.
“I’m gonna change th-” Bucky started, but Sam was faster, snatching the phone out of his hand and pressing send.
“there! now please tell me you know what to wear on a date” Sam pleaded, the silence was the only reply Sam needed.
I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date with me. I think you’re amazing and wonderful, please let me know- i would’ve waited to ask you in person but i can’t stop thinking
Your face flushed and a smile broke onto your face. Quickly typing out a response.
I would love you bucky
to**** i would love to
You groaned as you read over your texts, god he was gonna back out now, surely. This is the same man who took a month to wave back at his own neighbor for fucks sakes, now you just accidentally told him you loved him?
I’ll pick you up at 6:30 doll :-)
You bit your lip, smiling and jumping around in glee, you could hardly wait.
“okay if it’s just a museum date how about you wear this, and that” Sam spoke, smiling at how Bucky looked in his outfit.
“I’m gonna take her ice skating instead i think” Bucky spoke, and Sam nodded, looking in his closet.
“I’m not letting you near any of my sweaters” Sam spoke and Bucky rolled his eyes.
“i have something back home to wear, thank you Sam” he smiled, pulling him in for a hug. Sam smiled, happy that Bucky was finally finding peace.
Bucky quickly got ready, hopping in the shower and putting on a t shirt and pulling his black Henley over it along with some nice pants.
He checked his clock, 5:47. Enough time for flowers, he rushed out, grabbing everything he needed and heading for the florist.
He remembered how two weeks ago you told him your favorite flowers, gushing about them in your 3 am sleepy haze.
By the time he arrived at your doorstep and hesitated.
“okay, okay, i can do this. just knock, flowers and ice skating!” He smiled to himself, remembering how you were just as nervous when you first brought him banana bread.
He knocked twice on the door, you opened it with a smile. Buckys eyes went wide and his words got stuck in his throat.
You looked beautiful.
“I didn’t know where we were going so i kinda just put on something somewhat casual, i hope that’s okay! If not i can change” you rambled and Bucky blinked rapidly.
“You look beautiful doll” was all he said you blushed, smiling and nodding.
“i got you some flowers” he spoke, nervous to see your reaction.
“you remembered?” you whispered and he nodded,
“how could i not?” your face was burning as you took the bouquet from him, placing them in a vase with some water quickly.
The two of you left the apartment, nervous and giddy to see where the night would take you.
The ice rink was packed, something neither of you expected, and 30 minutes into the line YPU were yawning.
“I’m sorry doll i didn’t know it would be packed” he mumbled and you shook your head.
“i don’t mind I’m just a bit tired is all” you smiled, yawning one more time and apologizing to Bucky.
“Cmon i know what we can do instead” he smiled and you looked at him confused, but he quickly took your hand in his and pulled you out of line and back to his car.
The drive was silent, soft 40s music coming from the speaker as you headed to wherever bucky was taking you.
Before you knew it you were back your apartments, you were confused to say the least but decided to stay quiet and let Bucky guide you.
“Wait here” Bucky smiled, running to his apartment before coming back out with a backpack and taking your hand once again.
“I like to come up here when i need some time alone or just to think” he spoke, clicking on the top floor in the elevator.
You followed him out of the elevator, around the corner and up some stairs, and then you were on the roof. Bucky smiled at you as you saw the sunset over the buildings around you.
You were so busy taking in the view you didn’t see Bucky setting up the picnic infront of you, gasping at the small setup he managed to make.
“It’s not much but-” he started and you shook your head.
“It’s just enough” you whispered, sitting across from him.
The two of you talked until nightfall, smiling the whole time and giggling at each other’s anecdotes.
You were laying on Buckys chest, listening to him talk about the constellations as pointing them out with his metal hand, his other hand was softly running through your hair.
“-and that one is Ursa Minor, the little bear” he continued, listening to your heartbeat as it steadied. You had fallen asleep. Bucky smiled, happy that he could finally return the favor you had done for him every night.
He moved as quickly and quietly as he could, packing up everything into his backpack again. As he headed to pick you up you moved, opening your eyes slightly.
“did i fall sleep?” You mumbled and Bucky smiled, picking you up swiftly and you giggled.
“love when you treat me like a princess” Bucky smiled at your words.
“good thing I’m gonna treat you like one for as long as your mine” he replied, you blushed, fully waking up.
“yours huh?” You smirked and he blushed.
“You can put me down in awake” you smiled and he set you down gently.
“will you be my girl? I promise I’ll treat you like a princess, even promise to never bake again” Bucky smiled, stepping closer to you.
“you make a tough bargain barnes, i think it’s a yes” you smiled, pulling him by the hem of his shirt and placing your lips on his.
The two of you smiled into the kiss, breaking into a fit of laughter halfway through.
“why are you laughing?” You smiled, and he put his hand up in defense.
“you started laughing first!” He defended, pulling you in for another kiss before you could argue back.
You walked to your apartment hand in hand and in comfortable silence.
“I had a really good time tonight bucky” you smiled, turning to the super soldier.
“I had a great time too doll” he grinned and you turned around, unlocking your door. Bucky was already walking to his door when you stopped him.
“You arent gonna come in?” You questioned and he smiled, nodding and following you in quickly.
The rest of the night was spent cuddled up on the couch, hot chocolates in hand and watching your favorite movies on tv.
The two of you fell asleep before the first movie could even finish, you had never felt more well rested in your life. Bucky didn’t have a single nightmare and was the most relaxed he’d been in 80 years.
#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#soft Bucky Barnes
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So I've been wondering, what IS Marinette's breakfast in the origins episode? It looks like she's adding Choco powder into her bowl?
Hiiii she has a pretty "classic" French breakfast (though more for kids/early teenagers because lots of people switch to tea or coffee when growing up while she's having a hot chocolate).
French breakfasts are usually sweet (of course not everyone takes the same but the sweet ones are the most commonly found); breakfasts with bacon and eggs and all are not really a thing here, though some people do take them but we'll call it a "petit-déjeuner anglais/irlandais" (so a British/Irish breakfast). We usually find a combination of some or (veeeery rarely) all of these:
A hot drink: tea, coffee, hot chocolate...
A fruit juice (orange, apple...)
Bread, toasted or not, with one or a combination of butter (sometimes salted or not depending on people's tastes) / jam. When I say bread it's a baguette (or other types of wholewheat bread) or sometimes what you guys call "French toast"
And/or a pastry (croissant, pain au chocolat, viennoise...), though these are mostly a 'Sunday' thing and not everyone get these cause it would be expensive to have them every day (and calorific lol)
Sometimes a fruit (banana, apple, kiwi...) but not for everyone
Sometimes a yoghurt, but again, not for everyone
Some people have cereals too with (or without) milk, and it can be instead of some of the above, it depends the people's habit really
So yeah basically she's pouring milk in her bowl with chocolate powder; we don't see her heating it though but she probably will because there's not a lot of powders that mix well with cold milk haha.
I annotated the things we see on her table (some you've all guessed but I was like while I'm at it let's write it all down 🤪)
If she's planning on eating everything I annotated she'll have a VERY complete breakfast hahaha (and tbh I'm not sure she'd manage to eat it all but oh well once again it depends each person's appetite when they wake up).
Hope this helps! 😄
#ask#anon#ml French culture#marinette#I'm so glad she's having hot chocolate though#i'm 27 and I'm still team hot chocolate aqjkeedfkjs
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Sleepyhead
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: Peter will try just about anything to help out the very pretty insomniac from his math class.
Work Count: 11.2k
Warnings: Just some sweet, pure fluff with a few curse words every now and then.
A/N: Either the tags aren’t working for me or you guys just didn’t like it, but the final part of “Even If It’s a Lie” has been out for a few days now if anyone’s interested in reading it 🥺 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this super long piece I’ve been working on to help me get through finals <3
“Touch you softly
I call you up late at night
No doubt it isn't right
But you could be my one and only”
-Softly, Clairo
Peter had seen you around campus a few times, but it wasn’t until you started sitting two rows ahead of him in his linear algebra class that he really started to notice you.
He thought you were really pretty, and he liked how cozy you always looked in the puffy winter coat you kept on in the perpetually freezing lecture hall. You took a lot of notes, which told him that you cared about the class, and never showed up without a giant cup of iced coffee.
You’re being a creep, Peter told himself. He had thought about switching seats to somewhere in front of you, so he could actually listen to his professor discuss permutations instead of staring at how you chewed on the end of your pen when you were thinking.
It was even worse when you started sleeping in class, your soft hair falling around your shoulders as you leaned your head against your desk. It seemed like all the coffee in the world couldn’t keep you awake, and Peter wondered if he should ask if you wanted to borrow his notes or something. But that would mean him admitting to looking at you way more than he needed to, and that was weird, so he quickly dropped the idea.
Still, he was worried about you. So when he came back from patrol in the middle of the night and bumped into you outside of the dorm kitchen, he figured it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and maybe even find out why you were so tired all the time.
The only problem was that he had accidentally knocked your pan of banana bread out of your hands, and you were currently staring at it laying on the floor with your sleepy eyes, not saying anything.
“Shit, uh, I’m so sorry,” he told you, crouching down to scoop up the remnants of your late-night snack into the pan. “Were you really up baking at 3 a.m?”
You blushed a little, starstruck that the cute guy from your math class was talking to you. “Um, yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come down to the kitchen while nobody else was here and make something. Baking always helps me calm down, and so here I am. And here we are. And there’s my bread, all covered in whatever kind of dust the custodians refuse to sweep down here.”
He offered a soft smile, and it made you feel better about the fact that you were rambling way more than you wanted to.
“I’m Y/N,” you continued, gently taking the pan from his hands. “You’re in linear algebra with Professor Meyers, right?”
“Yeah, you, um, you sit right in front of me. Well, not right in front of me. Two rows in front of me. Shit. I’m not creepy, I promise. It’s just… uh… My name is Peter and I’m going to stop talking now.”
That couldn’t have possibly gone any worse, he thought. You were probably thinking he was a serial killer or something.
“It’s okay. I know you sit behind me,” you reassured him. “You answer a lot of questions.” He was cute and smart, and you hoped he couldn’t notice how flustered you were to be this close to him.
“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, which made you laugh at how ironic his concerns were, considering he was also wandering around the dorm basement at this hour.
“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, sitting on one of the benches that jutted out of the walls of the corridor. “I mean, you’re here too. At least I was baking. What’s up with you?”
You had a point. “I had an emergency… with my internship. I work for Stark Industries, and Mr. Stark rang me in the middle of the night to come to the lab immediately for something, so, yeah. That’s why I’m awake right now.”
“Okay,” you said, not buying his story. “So that’s why you have a black eye and you’re lurking in the basement hallway? Did Tony Stark punch you?”
Fuck. Did he really have a black eye and not notice? He didn’t think that Doc Oc’s stupid mechanical arm had punched him that hard, but apparently, he was wrong. And now he had to come up with some reason as to where it came from, although he could already tell that you were about to call his bluff.
The only solution he could think of was to change the subject. “Why are you always asleep during class?” he blurted out, causing you to give him a funny look before frowning down at your slippers.
“Isn’t it obvious,” you yawned, stretching your arms out in front of you. “I’m an insomniac. It’s actually kind of funny. I never really had any problems with falling asleep until I moved here. Maybe it’s the cold weather or the constant pressure to get good grades, but I just can’t sleep anymore. It sucks.”
Normally, you’d never tell this much about yourself to somebody, let alone a complete stranger. But somehow, you felt really comfortable around Peter. There was just something about him that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Peter caught himself staring at you again, your baby pink pajamas a far departure from how put together your usual outfits were. Even without your makeup or hair done, you were still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. For some reason, even the dark circles under your eyes were really cute to him.
“You never answered my question,” you reminded him, hoping that he’d say something to fill the awkward silence. “What’s with the black eye and wandering around in the middle of the night? Are you some kind of superhero?”
“What? No! That’s crazy. Me, a superhero,” he laughed awkwardly, wondering if you had somehow figured out his secret identity. Had you spotted him that one time he made sure that you and your friends got home safely from a late-night study session? Even so, you totally couldn’t have known it was him, right?
“Relax, I’m just joking,” you giggled, thinking about how cute he looked when he was flustered. “Although my friend did tell me she thought she saw Spider-Man a few weeks ago on her way back from a party.”
“Haha, yeah,” he breathed out, a wave of relief washing over him. It was times like these that he really started to appreciate how well-hidden his muscles were underneath all of his oversized sweaters.
“Does that hurt?” you asked, bringing your hand up to lightly brush his lip, which was bleeding. He flinched instinctively before settling under your touch, your eyes focused on the small cut. “I have a first aid kit in my room if you want some help cleaning it up.”
“Oh, no, it’s cool. I wouldn’t want to bother your roommate,” Peter told you, scooting further away on the bench, nearly falling off the edge of it. Ned hated it when he stumbled in at some ungodly hour after patrol and woke him up.
“Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and gesturing for him to follow you. “I have a single.”
Peter looked at you in awe. Freshmen never got rooms to themselves, and yet somehow you had one. “Okay, fine. But only because I’ve never actually seen a single in this building before.”
“That’s cool with me,” you smiled, reaching for his hand so he could keep up with your pace. He noticed that you were chewing some of the banana bread, which he really hoped was from the part that didn’t fall on the floor. To be fair though, it did smell really good.
Not only did you have a single, but you lived on the first floor. Peter couldn’t believe how lucky you were, considering the building that the two of you lived in didn’t have any elevators to traverse its seven floors.
He was even more shocked when you opened your door, revealing the coziest dorm room he had ever seen. How on earth did you transform the glorified prison cell into something that felt so... comforting? From the twinkling lights that were wrapped around everything and the soft rug under his feet, Peter found it really hard to believe that you had trouble sleeping here.
“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you apologized, piling your many throw pillows and blankets into a basket to clear up some space on your bed. “You can sit here.”
If this was messy, then Peter and Ned’s room needed some serious help. “No worries,” he said, watching as you rummaged around your drawers in search of your first aid kit.
Eventually, you found it hidden under a bunch of graph paper and colored pencils, untouched ever since your overprotective grandparents had helped you move in. “Here we go,” you mused, now looking inside it for alcohol wipes and band-aids.
He winced as you rubbed the little cloth against his lips, and you made sure to be more gentle as you cleaned up the other cuts on his face. Thankfully, nothing was bad enough to require stitches, something you were seriously under-qualified to do.
All Peter could focus on the entire time was how close you were and what it would be like to just kiss you right then and there, but he knew that was way too forward of him. Plus, he didn’t even know if you liked him like that. Surely you were just being nice.
Still, the way he caught you staring into his brown eyes after smoothing a band-aid on his forehead made him think otherwise.
“You’re going to have to tell me eventually who beat you up,” you sighed, gathering up wrappers to throw away and tucking the first aid kit back into its place in your drawers.
“It’s a long story,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your stare.
“I’ve got time,” you replied, climbing onto your lofted bed to sit next to him, innocently brushing your bare leg against his jeans, which made his breath hitch. “Tell me about it.”
“Uh, how about another time?” he stammered, hopping off the bed and running his hand through his hair. “After class tomorrow, or something. It’s getting pretty late. We should, um, go to sleep.”
“You can stay here if you want,” you offered, his eyes widening at your invitation. “On the bean bag, I mean. It’s actually really comfortable. You mentioned something about bothering your roommate and I figured that maybe you’d like to avoid the trouble tonight.”
“Oh…” Peter hesitated, looking for a reason to say no. He knew he’d never be able to sleep knowing that you were in the same room as him. “I don’t have any pajamas.”
“True,” you agreed, a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in sticking around.
“I don’t actually even wear pajamas to sleep,” he continued, making you look back up at him instead of playing with the hem of your shirt. “It’s just… I sleep in my boxers.”
“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you sighed, your face hot with embarrassment.
“It’s not that! I mean, I do want to stay here. But, uh, you… well, you make me really nervous, Y/N,” he muttered, his glance bouncing around the room.
“Why?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “Did I do something?”
“No, no! Nothing at all. I promise, okay?”
“Okay. You can, um, get ready for bed, I guess. I promise not to look,” you assured him, turning on your side to face the wall.
“Thanks. Yeah, alright.” You heard him fumbling with his clothes, his sneakers making a soft thud on your floor. You did your best to resist the urge to glance back at him.
“Can I just use any of these?” he asked, although you had no idea what he was talking about.
“Peter, I’m not looking, remember? You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”
“The blankets. Do I just pick one, or are you particular about them?”
“Oh. You can use whichever one you want to. But the coral one’s the softest and my personal favorite.” Peter stared at the basket in confusion. To him, they were all just pink. But based on touch alone, he pulled one out that he figured was a little more orange than the others.
He walked over to the light switch and flipped off the overhead fluorescents, letting the room be illuminated by the warm glow of your fairy lights, which weren’t too bright, but still twinkly and beautiful.
“Goodnight, Peter,” you whispered, snuggling into your comforter in the hopes that your heartbeat would slow down and let you fall asleep for once.
“Goodnight, Y/N.” In a matter of minutes, you could hear his soft snoring, and you figured that it would be okay just to take a quick peek since he’d probably be bundled up in one of your blankets.
His hair was perfectly messy, and he looked so cozy wrapped up in the blanket you had recommended. Still, as much as you could stare at his adorable face all night, you were exhausted. Burying your face under the covers, you did your best to calm your nerves and get some rest before class tomorrow.
----------------
“Peter,” you whispered, jostling him lightly by the shoulders in the hopes of waking him up. “Uh, we have an hour before class. I was thinking that it would be enough time for you to go shower and change, and then we could go get coffee or something.”
He blinked back up at you, amazed at how well he slept on your bean bag. You had already gotten ready for the day, doing your makeup and picking out one of your many fluffy sweaters to keep you warm in the New York snow.
“Thanks, that sounds awesome,” he yawned, accepting the hand you held out to help him up. The blanket fell, and you stared at each other in shock, having forgotten that Peter was in nothing but his underwear.
You dropped his hand as fast as you could, covering your eyes. “Oh my god! I’m sorry. Shit, I completely forgot, Peter. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get dressed.”
Peter watched as you stumbled around the room, your eyes squeezed tightly as your hands attempted to guide you away from him.
“Y/N,” he started, catching your attention as you nearly ran into your bed frame. “You can open your eyes. Really, I don’t care if you see me like this if it means I can keep you from breaking your nose.”
You hesitantly opened your eyes, relieved that Peter had already managed to pull his pants back on. Still, he was completely shirtless, and you found yourself staring at the abs you would have never expected to be hiding underneath his clothes.
Moments later, you averted your gaze, although you knew that he probably noticed you looking at where was now covered by his plaid button-down and dark blue sweater.
“I’ll, um, be right back,” he muttered, before practically sprinting out of your room and up the stairs. You groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in a pillow before attempting to take a quick twenty-minute power nap.
Peter couldn’t believe it. Sure, he had thought one time about you seeing him without clothes on, but this wasn’t how he thought it would go at all. Still, the image of you staring at him shirtless, your face flushed, made him feel like he was going to have a heart attack.
“Dude! There you are,” Ned screamed, startled at his roommate’s unexpected entrance. Peter panted, having run up four flights of stairs as fast as he could. “Wait a second. Did you finally get laid? Is this a walk of shame?”
Before Ned could praise him any further, Peter was grabbing a change of clothes and sprinting towards the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he begged himself.
The memory of your leg touching his last night immediately came to mind, and Peter was so angry at himself for being this starved for physical intimacy. To be fair, though, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and so he cut himself some slack.
Shit, he told himself, making sure the water was set to cold. He needed to calm down, but instead, his thoughts were stuck on how good you looked in your pajamas, but also how good you would look without them and—fuck it.
Peter liked you a lot, and if thinking about you like this in private kept him from being a complete weirdo in person, then maybe he just needed to get his feelings of desperation over with.
When he came back down to your room about thirty minutes later, you were still super tired. You trudged your way towards the door, your hair now noticeably messier than earlier, but at least that meant your nap had been a success.
His hair was still damp and this time he was wearing yet another blue sweater, which made you wonder if he ever wore any other color. He had his backpack slung over one of his shoulders and a nervous smile on his face as he locked eyes with you.
“Hey,” he said, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “Are you ready to go?”
You leaned against the doorway a little bit, letting out a yawn that was literally the cutest noise Peter had ever heard in his life. “Yeah, let me get my backpack.”
“It’s so heavy,” you continued, rightfully complaining as the weight of all its contents practically pulled you downwards. “I think it’s so stupid how almost every professor bans computers from class. Like, it’s not fair that I have to lug around three textbooks every day. I don’t have time to run back to my dorm in between classes like some people!”
Peter frowned. Three textbooks were nothing to him, but he knew that you didn’t have spidey-strength and that you were also pretty tiny compared to him. It must’ve been hell on your back to be carrying all that stuff around every day.
“I can carry it for you,” he offered, holding out his hand to switch with you. “Here, you can take my backpack if it’ll make you feel better. I have a lot of programming classes today, so I’ve only got my laptop and a notebook in there.”
You gave him a look of gratitude as he traded bags with you, literally taking the weight off your shoulders. He was right. His backpack was much more manageable for you, even if the dark grey contrasted with the light colors you always wore.
In contrast, it looked kind of odd for him to be walking around with a backpack that was covered in a soft pink floral pattern, much like everything else you owned, but the sight of him carrying your books brought a smile to your face.
It was one of the sweetest things a guy had ever done for you, and Peter wasn’t even your boyfriend. He probably didn’t even think of you in that way.
“Uh, where do you usually get coffee?” he asked, slowing his pace so you could keep up. He felt bad seeing how tired you were, no doubt due to the lack of sleep you got last night.
“The Starbucks next to Hendrie Hall,” you replied, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “You?”
“I don’t drink coffee,” he admitted. “I’m actually more of a tea person.”
“Oh,” you hesitated, wondering if it was worth it to walk all the way across campus just for a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino. “We could go somewhere closer then.”
“It’s okay,” Peter reassured you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to your destination. “I like walking.”
----------------
You hadn’t really talked to Peter since that morning before class, but sometimes you would peek behind you and catch him stealing glances at you. Eventually, he had started to feel brave enough to give you a little wave whenever you caught him looking at you. Well, at least the times when you were awake.
One day, not even the loud shuffling and growing chatter of your classmates exiting the lecture hall could wake you up, and Peter figured he better do something before you got chewed out by one of the TAs.
“Y/N?” he said, leaning closer so that you could hopefully hear him. “Y/N. You gotta wake up. Class ended three minutes ago.”
He shook you a little bit, nervously hoping that you wouldn’t mind him touching you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled softly as soon as you realized it was Peter.
“Oh. Thanks,” you said, standing up to slide your empty notebook into your backpack. Your hand brushed the side of your mouth, making sure you hadn’t drooled onto yourself.
“You can borrow my notes,” he offered, glancing at you sheepishly as you gathered up your coat and fixed your hair. “If you want to.”
“That’d be great,” you sighed, wondering whether you should skip your next class and just go take a nap. At this point, you weren’t even bothering to put on makeup and you basically wore whatever clothes you had that weren’t already sprawled across your room.
“Are you alright?” Peter asked, walking close to you to make sure you didn’t fall over. He knew you were an insomniac, but you looked seriously sleep-deprived today. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?”
“Nope,” you huffed, lugging your perpetually heavy backpack along. “But I’m skipping the rest of my classes today. I’d rather lie that I’m sick through an e-mail than have to explain to my professors why I was sleeping during their classes.”
“Fair enough,” he agreed, stopping you in your tracks to take your backpack from you. “I’ve actually got some time before my next class. I can walk you back to your room and give you my notebook if that’s okay with you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you told him, reaching to take your bag back from him, although he didn’t let you.
“Y/N. Come on, you’re exhausted. At least let me carry your stuff, alright?” He had such a kind look in his eyes, and you certainly didn’t have the energy to keep arguing for no reason.
“Okay.” You crossed your arms, the cold air slowly waking you up as the wind hit your face. Your ears were super cold, but you were glad you had pulled your hair into a quick braid to keep it from flying everywhere.
It wasn’t long before you were kicking your boots off in your dorm room, your teeth chattering as you wrapped yourself in a blanket.
“Do you want some tea?” you asked Peter, inviting him to sit down wherever.
“Sure, but I thought you drank coffee,” he reminded you, watching as you pulled an assortment of tea bags for him to choose from.
“I do,” you said, handing him the box and running to your bathroom to fill up the electric kettle. “But you drink tea.”
Peter’s ears suddenly felt hot. You had gotten tea just for him. Or maybe you were just a really good hostess and kept some around for all of your visitors. Probably the second option, he thought.
“Are you even allowed to have one of those?” he asked as the two of you waited for the water to boil.
“No,” you laughed, sitting next to him on your bed. For someone with so much space to themselves, you really needed to invest in more places to sit. “But you can’t have candles or fairy lights either, so I guess I’m just a rule breaker.”
“Guess I’ll just have to report you to the RA,” Peter teased, getting up to make himself a cup of earl grey. “Do you have any sugar?”
“Top drawer on the right,” you replied. “Do you have a sweet tooth?”
“Yes.” You watched as his lips blew on the tea to cool it down before remembering that it was weird to stare.
“You should let me bake something for you. What’s your favorite dessert?” You were kicking your dangling legs, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than this morning.
“Chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting,” he said in between sips, walking back over to you. With you on the tall bed and him standing, your faces were level with each other.
“I’ll have to make you one to thank you,” you smiled, peering into his eyes. Peter felt your heartbeat quicken, and the grin on your face as you stared at each other made him weak in the knees.
“Can I get those notes?” you asked, making him remember that people don’t just look at each other and say nothing like that.
“Oh! Yeah, definitely.” He quickly set the mug down on your nightstand to rummage through his backpack, flipping one of his notebooks open before handing it to you. “There are the ones from today, but all of the ones I’ve taken this semester are in there too.”
“Wow,” you laughed, making a worried expression form on his face.
“What’s wrong? Are they not good?”
“No, it’s not that. They’re just, uh, very thorough.” He had basically transcribed your professor’s lectures onto the pages. “You must write really fast. But thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.”
Peter nodded before nervously gulping down the rest of his tea, not even noticing how hot the liquid still was as it nearly burned his throat.
“I should go now,” he started, looking around the room for his things. “I want you to get some rest, Y/N. Please.”
He had this look in his eyes that was so genuine—so full of care and concern—that it made you want to do whatever he asked you to.
“I’ll try,” you told him, awkwardly rubbing the top of your arm in the hopes that you could actually fall asleep after he left. “Have a nice day, Peter.”
“Bye, Y/N. I’ll stop by later,” he said, already halfway out the door. “For the notes, I mean! Uh, bye. Again. Okay. I’m going to go now.”
You giggled, giving him one last wave before he left. Like magic, the more you thought about how Peter was worried about you, the easier it was for you to drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.
----------------
You woke up later that day to Peter knocking on your door, this time standing next to some guy in a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt.
“Hi, Y/N,” Peter greeted you. You looked a lot less tired than when he saw you this morning, which relieved him. “This is my roommate, Ned. He just wanted to know who I’ve been hanging out with, so I hope it’s okay that I brought him here to prove you’re real and not a figment of my imagination.”
Ned leaned closer to you, your hair still a little messy from your nap. “Blink twice if he’s paying you,” he whispered, causing you to giggle. Peter looked on nervously, unsure of what his best friend had just said to you.
“What did you say!?” he asked, lightly pushing Ned on the arm, knowing that it was probably something meant to embarrass him.
“Ow! Okay, now I’m really not telling you,” Ned replied, rubbing the spot where Peter had just hit him.
“Y/N, what did Ned say to you?” He turned to you, a worried look on his face as you and Ned held back your laughter. Peter’s face turned as red as a tomato, making you instantly feel a little bit bad.
“It was nothing, Peter. Really,” you said, pulling him into the room with you. “It was nice to meet you, Ned. I’ll make sure he’s back before curfew.”
Ned laughed, offering a quick thumbs up and mouthing “I like her” to Peter before you shut the door on him.
“I knew that was a mistake,” Peter sighed, his back against the door. You were still a bit giddy from the exchange, giggling softly as he slowed his breathing.
“You don’t need to be embarrassed around me,” you reassured him. “We’re friends, right?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s just that…”
“What?” You could barely hear him as his voice trailed off.
“Well, uh, not all of my friends are, you know…”
“Spit it out, Peter,” you said, leaning closer so that you could hear him better.
“They’re not as pretty as you,” he muttered, making you blush at his words. Did he really think you were pretty?
“Oh. Thanks,” you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Peter lifted his head up, relieved that you didn’t think he was a creep or something.
“Your notebook’s on my desk,” you continued, stepping back a little to give him some space. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the distance between you and him grew. “I just took a bunch of pictures, so I can look at them on my computer whenever.”
“Alright, awesome,” he said, walking over to collect it before turning back to you. “How’d you sleep?”
“Pretty well, actually. The best I’ve slept in a while. I think you’re some kind of good luck charm.”
“Really?” he asked, a little surprised that he had been helpful.
“Really. You know, I’ve been thinking…”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe it’d be nice if we hung out somewhere that wasn’t my room all the time,” you said, a hopeful look in your eyes. “If you want.”
Peter had never noticed it before, but the two of you really did spend most of your time together in your room. It really was a nice room, but it made sense that you’d want to get out of it every once and a while.
“I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” Play it cool, Parker, he told himself. You can freak out with Ned later.
“How about ice cream on Friday?” you suggested, which came as a bit of a surprise to him.
“In the middle of winter?” As far as Peter could remember, you were always cold.
“Yeah. I really love ice cream,” you added, smiling up at him.
“Okay, then. Ice cream it is,” he agreed. There was absolutely no way he could ever say no to you when you looked at him like that.
----------------
“May! No, it’s not a date. She’s just a friend. Yeah, I got it. Open the door, pay for her, don’t be an idiot!” Peter sighed into his phone, hoping his aunt’s unwarranted crash course on first dates would be over soon. “Yes, I’m wearing the green sweater. Thanks, love you. Bye!”
“I have no idea who told her I had a date tonight,” he groaned, slumping down onto the couch next to his best friend.
“I texted her,” Ned replied nonchalantly, not even looking away from whatever video game he was playing. “Knew you’d need some kind of pointers. Y/N is way out of your league.”
“Hey!” Was he right? Yes. Did Peter need to be reminded of it right before his not-a-date date with you? Definitely not.
“Come on, you know I’m right. It’s Liz Allan all over again. I have no idea how you keep pulling all of these pretty girls, but hey, credit where credit is due.”
“You’re so mean.”
“I keep it real and you love it. Good luck, man.”
“Bye,” Peter grumbled, slipping on his coat and walking out of their room. Four flights of stairs later, he was at your door.
“Hi!” you squeaked, wrapping your arms around him. This was the first time the two of you had ever hugged and Peter was not going to forget about it anytime soon. “Come in. I have a surprise for you!”
“Here,” you continued, holding out a blue and white beanie for him. “I made it for you. To match all those blue sweaters you wear all the time.” Except this time, he was wearing a forest green one, which brought out the slight hazel tinge in his eyes.
“You made this for me?” he asked, eyeing the different stitches you had used and fiddling with the pom-pom on top. It looked store-bought.
“Well, yeah, silly. I just said that,” you replied, hoping that he liked it. With all the time you didn’t sleep, you were knitting anyway, but this was a special present for him. “Try it on.”
“I didn’t get you anything,” he sighed, pulling the hat onto his head. He looked really cute, the ends of his wavy hair peeking out from underneath the brim.
“Don’t worry about it,” you said, pulling him out of your room and towards the front of the dorm building. “Getting to hang out with you is good enough for me.”
“Where’d you learn how to knit?” Peter questioned, walking alongside you on the snow-lined sidewalks. With how cold it was, and considering he didn’t have a hood on his coat, it seemed like perfect timing that you had given him a hat.
“My grandma taught me,” you shared, taking in the twinkling of the streetlamps and how they bounced against the snow. In New York, that was practically the closest you could get to stargazing. “My, uh, grandparents actually raised me.”
“Oh. I was raised by my aunt and uncle,” Peter confided. It made you feel not so alone to find out that he didn’t grow up with his parents either, even though you knew firsthand just how hard it was.
“Do they live around here?” you asked, stealing glances at him and how rosy his cheeks were in the cold air.
“Yeah, my aunt lives in Queens,” he told you, staring at his feet to both avoid eye contact and make sure neither of you accidentally slipped. Not that he wouldn’t catch you, but he wanted to be safe. “My uncle actually passed away a couple of years ago.”
You stopped walking, immediately feeling a sense of regret. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s okay, Y/N. There was no way for you to have known that,” Peter reassured you, his warm breath coming out in clouds, and he reached for your hand to run his thumb across your knuckles. He gently pulled you along, keeping you from dying of embarrassment in the middle of campus.
“What about you? Are you from around here?” he asked, hoping to break the silence and make you feel a little bit better.
“No, I just moved up here for college. I grew up in Texas but moved to North Carolina when I was 13, so I finished school down there,” you explained, Peter suddenly noticing a slight Southern twang to your voice. “I just really wanted to go to school in a big city and not next to a farm for once in my life.”
“That makes sense,” he laughed, wondering what it would be like to live somewhere else. “I’ve only ever lived in New York City.”
“Do you like it here?”
“I love it. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, to be honest.”
“Me either,” you sighed, squeezing his hand tighter as the two of you enjoyed your walk in the snow.
It seemed like forever before you reached the ice cream shop, but you didn’t mind. That just gave you and Peter more time to get to know each other better. Turns out you both competed in academic decathlons, although you were more of a math person and he preferred science.
“Okay, you’re wrong. Night at the Museum 2 is so much better than the first one. I mean that kiss between Ben Stiller and Amy Adams? The Jonas Brothers as little cherub angels? Name one thing from the original that tops that,” you ranted in between spoonfuls of peppermint ice cream.
“I just really like when the little cowboy and gladiator are driving that toy car around,” he reasoned, subtly admitting defeat.
“Don’t even get me started on why the second Shrek movie—”
You were interrupted by the sound of Peter’s phone ringing, and you immediately recognized his ringtone as the Coconut Mall theme from Mario Kart. He peered down at his phone screen, sighing and mouthing an apology to you as he accepted the call.
“Uh, hey, Mr. Stark. Did you need something?” Well, at least you knew he wasn’t lying about his internship at Stark Industries. “Toronto? Tonight? I’m kind of busy.”
There was a long pause as Peter mentally kicked himself for talking back to Tony, resulting in an earful about how being an Avenger should always be at the top of his priorities.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be right over… but I need a favor. Could you send Happy to pick my friend up? Yeah, it’s the ice cream shop on 1st. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. Bye.” He frowned at you, and you could tell from what you had heard that he had to go.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just, something came up last minute and Mr. Stark really needs me to go on this business trip with him,” he apologized, pulling his coat on. “But, uh, he’s sending a car for you. So don’t worry about walking back alone, alright? I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay? Bye!”
“Oh, okay. Bye!” you managed to call out before he was running out the doors and down the street. Lots of customers were staring as you awkwardly gathered your things and went to go wait on the sidewalk.
A few minutes later, a shiny black car had pulled up to the curb in front of you, a man rolling down the window.
“Miss Y/N? I’m Happy Hogan. Mr. Stark sent me to drive you home,” he called from the driver’s seat, before getting out to open your door for you. You stepped in, a little starstruck at how nice the car was. You had never been in anything this expensive before.
The two of you were sitting in silence until you finally got the courage to speak up.
“Mr. Hogan,” you started, causing him to turn down the smooth jazz that had been playing on the radio. “Do you know why Peter has to go to Toronto?”
“Yes,” he replied, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “But I can’t tell you that.”
“Oh, okay,” you accepted, shifting to look out the window at all of the places in the city that you hadn’t yet gotten the chance to explore.
Eventually, he was dropping you off in front of your dorm, and you were trudging inside to your room to sulk about how your not-a-date date with Peter had gotten interrupted. You stared at your ceiling all night, wondering when the next time you’d see each other would be, and whether or not he’d come back with the same cuts and bruises as when you had first met.
----------------
Peter had been gone for six days and counting, and you were starting to worry that he might never come back. You had already started missing him the night he left, and now it was just some agonizing waiting game for him to return.
You must have spent hours in the basement kitchen before deciding to visit the fourth floor where Peter lived. You knocked on the door and was quickly met with Ned’s shocked expression.
“Uh, hi, Y/N. Peter’s not here right now. Did you need something?”
“I know,” you acknowledged, holding up the plate in your hand. “It’s just, well, I’ve been baking a lot and I didn’t really know who to give all of these cookies to, so I was wondering if you wanted any.”
“Oh, in that case, sign me up!” You watched as his face lit up as he noticed the assortment of chocolate chip, sugar, and snickerdoodle cookies all still warm from the oven. He offered his hands out to take the plate from you, which you happily relinquished.
“These are really good,” he complimented, his mouth full of a sugar cookie. “Can I keep the rest of them?”
“Yeah, of course,” you answered, doing your best to smile despite how much you wished it had been Peter opening the door. “I’ll see you around, Ned.”
“Hey, Y/N,” he called out to you, making you turn around on the stairwell. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s going to be back any day now.” You nodded, offering him a wave and walking back down to your room.
Turns out Ned had been right. The strange noises outside of your window were masked by how loud you were jamming out to We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel, jumping around and listing off the lyrics that had never made much sense to you. Peter knocked louder on the glass, startling you as you quickly switched off the music to investigate.
“Holy shit,” you whispered, squinting your eyes to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Spider-Man? Is that really you?”
You fumbled to push up your window, extremely confused as to why one of the Avengers was outside your bedroom this late at night.
“It’s me, Y/N,” he explained, his voice suddenly becoming extremely familiar. Your eyes widened as you realized who was behind the mask.
“Oh my god! PETER?” you screamed as he slipped through the window, pulling off his mask and clapping a hand over your mouth.
“Don’t freak out. It’s okay. It’s just me, okay?” he stammered in an attempt to get you to calm down before an RA heard. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really wanted to tell you, but we were in public when I left, and I couldn’t risk it. And I didn’t want to text it or do it over the phone because it’s kind of a big deal, so I figured I’d just come to see you as soon as I got back and Mr. Stark said that you have to promise—”
“It’s okay, Peter,” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into the very weird material of his spider-suit. “I won’t tell anybody.”
He softened under your touch, resting his head on top of yours. “I like your dance moves,” he whispered, making you glare up at him, your face suddenly very red.
“How long were you watching?” you groaned, dramatically throwing yourself onto your bean bag, your face covered by your hands.
“Only for about a minute,” he answered, pulling your hands down so you could see him grinning at you. “I especially liked how you used your hairbrush as a microphone. Plus, I thought we agreed to stop being embarrassed around each other?”
“Well, that was before I knew you were freaking Spider-Man!”
“Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, nudging you to scoot over and make room for him.
“So, that’s what that whole Toronto thing was?” you asked as he sat next to you, your knee touching his.
“Yep. There was this thing about aliens and these guys that could shapeshift. It’s a lot to explain.”
“Are you going to keep that thing on all night?” you asked, gesturing at his outfit, which was very tight and very distracting from whatever alien story he had to tell.
“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything on underneath it.”
“How scandalous,” you teased. “Not so family-friendly after all, huh, Spidey?”
“Oh, shut up,” he quipped, rolling his eyes as you let out a long yawn.
“Have you been sleeping much?” he continued, suddenly remembering the issue that had brought the two of you together in the first place.
“Of course not. I’ve been too busy worrying about my classes and, oh, just some idiot I know that abandoned me in the middle of an ice cream shop. Pretty sure he said he’d make that up to me, by the way.”
“Okay, okay. Message received. What would you like?” Please say a kiss. Please say a kiss. Please say a—
“Can I meet them? The Avengers, I mean. It’s not like anyone else really has a secret identity except for you.”
“Oh. I mean, I’d have to ask Mr. Stark and the rest of the team and see if they’re cool with it, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Awesome! You’re the best,” you chimed, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek.
It was then that Peter decided he would just never be able to wash that side of his face again, his heart nearly skipping a beat.
“Peter,” you said, breaking the silence he had left the two of you in. “I’m tired.”
“Me too,” he sighed. “I should head up to my room. Gotta make sure Ned knows I’m still alive.”
“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, standing up to see him out. “Aren’t you worried somebody will see you, though?”
“Y/N, it’s 4 a.m. I’m pretty sure that you and I are the only people on campus that are awake right now.”
“Oh, right. Still, be careful, okay?” you told him, slightly worried at his secret identity being found out by some college kid that just couldn’t stay off Twitter.
“Will do,” he said, smiling and giving you a little salute before leaving.
----------------
A few days later, before you could even greet him, Peter was already walking into your room. It was 10 p.m., a little earlier than when he usually came over, but by now you were used to him showing up at your door unannounced.
He was already wearing his pajamas, a t-shirt with a science pun and some flannel pants that he had invested in to avoid any more awkward moments between the two of you. You were dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, the clothes you usually threw on after class just in case you fell asleep on accident. There had been more times where you had woken up sweaty with your jeans stuck to your legs than you were willing to admit.
“Okay, so I asked Mr. Stark about your request and he told me he doesn’t think now is a good time, but…” he grinned, holding out a giant cardboard box with some kind of minimalist home appliance on the front for you to look at.
“Am I supposed to know what that is?” you blinked back, trying to figure out what the hell you were staring at, considering that all of the text written on it was in a language you didn’t know how to read.
“It’s some fancy white noise machine from Japan. If I remember correctly, Mr. Stark said he made Pepper order it because I wouldn’t shut up about you, and it would be in everybody’s best interest if you got some sleep, so I could stop annoying him and the rest of the team.”
“Oh. That’s pretty thoughtful, I guess,” you said, gathering things off your floor to make space for it.
He set the box down on your rug and got to work opening it. Meanwhile, you were busy translating what exactly Tony Stark had so generously gifted to you.
“Peter, wait. This thing is like $300. Doesn’t he know that you can just look up whale noises on YouTube for free?”
“Yeah, but this one adjusts its volume based on the noises around it, has a light that simulates the sun rising, and has an alarm noise that’s supposed to support healthy cortisol levels.”
Peter peered up to see your arms crossed and brows furrowed, it suddenly becoming clear to him that the things he had just listed meant very little to you.
“Plus, he’s a literal billionaire, so I don’t think it was that big of a loss for him,” he added.
“Fine. Let’s just hope this thing works,” you sighed, watching as Peter leafed through the instruction manual before tossing it behind him. “It’s a little early to go to sleep, though.”
“Y/N, plenty of people go to sleep at 10. Not everybody is nocturnal like you.”
“I guess you have a point,” you agreed, kneeling down beside him as he fiddled with all the settings.
“I know,” he said with a smirk as you rested your chin on his shoulder to get a better look at what he was doing. “What time do you want to wake up? 7 a.m. would give us time to go get breakfast before class, but we could do 8 if you wanted to sleep in.”
“We?” you mused, liking the sound of that. “I guess that means you’re staying here tonight?”
“Well, yeah. I’m not letting you have all these overpriced rainforest noises to yourself.”
“Do 7. We can go get those blueberry muffins that you like,” you decided, standing up to get Peter’s makeshift bed on your bean bag ready. “Do you actually like sleeping on this thing, or were you just trying to be polite the first time I asked?”
“Dude, that thing is awesome. It’s like I’m on this little cuddly cloud, and then you add all those warm blankets and the twinkly lights and it’s the perfect recipe for me to fall asleep.”
“Wow,” you nodded, looking around your room to see all of the things that Peter was talking about. “I wish it worked that way for me.”
“Maybe it will, tonight.”
It didn’t. You were tossing and turning for nearly an hour to the agonizing sounds of birds cawing and the occasional monkey chatter, all set against the backdrop of a heavy thunderstorm. To be honest, it was something that would’ve given you nightmares when you were little.
“Y/N?” Peter whispered from the floor. “Are you sleeping?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
“Could you turn that thing off? It’s really distracting me.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said, leaning over to switch the noise machine off. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
He hesitated, not really sure if he should ask the question that he had been thinking about for a while now. “How old were you when your parents died?”
You had to think for a moment, not really sure about the answer. For as long as you could remember, you just lived with your grandparents. “Um, well my mom left when I was a baby. And I think my dad passed away when I was four.”
“Oh,” Peter mumbled. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a parent leave you, but he didn’t want to pry just in case it was a sensitive topic. “Are your grandparents from your mom or dad’s side?”
You rolled over to rest your head on the edge of your bed so that you could see him better. He looked so cute bundled up in all of your blankets, his hair already a bit messy. “They’re my mom’s parents. It’s weird. I see a lot of pictures of her from when she was growing up, and I look so much like her, but she’s basically a stranger to me.”
Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but there was a long pause and he decided not to.
“What about you? How old were you when your parents passed away?”
“Five or six. They met while working at the C.I.A. together, but most of my memories are from the stories my aunt and uncle told me when I was growing up.”
For a moment, neither of you could find the right words to say to each other.
“Peter,” you spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m really glad I met you.”
“I’m really glad I met you too.”
----------------
Peter’s next plan of action involved even more advice from his fellow Avengers, and you were not looking forward to trying out any of their suggestions.
“Okay, so, Steve—I mean Captain America—said that when he was little, you know, in the 1940s, all he had to do was drink a glass of warm milk before bed.”
“I’m lactose intolerant,” you groaned, crossing your arms.
“I just saw you eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s in one sitting the other day.”
“Regular milk has almost 15 times more lactose than ice cream. You’d think a science nerd like you would know that.”
“I’m a geek,” he scoffed, clearly a little bit offended. “Not a nerd.”
“Yeah, I can see that now. It’s okay, though. At least you’re pretty,” you said, pinching his cheek.
“Just try it,” he grumbled, handing you the warm glass and waiting impatiently for you to take a sip. If anything, the milk did a better job at keeping you up that night than putting you to sleep. Not even thirty minutes after you had gone to bed, you were feeling sick to your stomach.
“I hate milk,” you gagged, Peter holding your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet bowl. “My grandpa could never get me to drink it as a kid.”
“Is that why you’re so short?” he laughed, helping you up. You glared at him as you moved to the sink to wash the acidic taste out of your mouth.
“Shut up, Parker,” you quipped, tired and grumpy from how terrible you felt. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”
“Alright, munchkin,” he smiled, pulling you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed.
Somehow, the warm milk wasn’t even the worst of Peter’s ideas, because a few days later, he was standing at your door with a bottle of some Asgardian sleep aid from the lightning god himself.
“Are you sure this is safe for me to drink?” you asked, your eyes widening as you stared at the silvery liquid that was almost shimmering.
“Uh, I’m about 87% confident you’ll live,” he said, “But I’m 100% sure that it’ll work.”
“Gee, thanks. Now I really want to drink this weird alien potion,” you sighed, looking at him nervously.
“Just drink a little bit and see if you feel anything,” Peter encouraged, leaning over your shoulder. You nodded, hesitantly bringing the drink up to your lips to take a sip.
“This stuff tastes amazing,” you mused, taking a bigger gulp this time. “Like a blue raspberry slushie.”
“Whoa, that’s enough,” he warned, taking the bottle from your hands before you could drink any more of it. “We don’t want you to go into a coma.”
“I don’t feel anything,” you shrugged, frowning back at him. “Maybe I should—”
You stopped mid-sentence to let out a loud yawn, the potion starting to take effect. Peter caught you as you slumped down in your chair, helping you into bed.
“Okay. I definitely feel it now,” you admitted, already half asleep. Peter tucked you under your blankets, placing a kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered, turning off your lights and softly closing the door behind him.
For a moment, Peter had thought he had finally found a solution to your insomnia. At least before you slept through class the next morning. And then the day after that. But it wasn’t until the third day that he really started to freak out.
“Where’s Thor!?” he panted, having run all the way from his class over to the Avengers Tower. Wanda and Vision stared back at him from the kitchen, very confused at what he was so panicked about.
“He’s in his room,” Bucky called from the couch, his mouth full of popcorn as 13 Going on 30 played on the big screen. “What’s going on, kid?”
“No time to explain. Gotta go!” Peter called, sprinting up the stairs towards Thor’s room. He knocked frantically until the door finally swung open.
“Greetings, young Spiderling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Thor smiled, his long, golden hair shiny as ever.
“I think I killed my almost-girlfriend!” Peter blurted out, practically sweating from how stressed out he was. “She drank that stuff you gave me and she hasn’t woken up in three days now!”
Thor chuckled, patting Peter on the head. “Do not worry, my brother. I’m sure she will wake up given time. It was a very potent drink, after all. Calm yourself.”
“Okay,” he sighed, relieved to know that he hadn’t poisoned you to death. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. She’s fine. Everything’s fine. Thanks, man. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”
“Farewell, Peter. May we meet again soon,” he grinned before closing the door in Peter’s face.
On the way back down the stairs, Peter figured he’d give you a call and see if you were still sleeping.
“Hello?” you groaned, your throat dry from just waking up. “Peter, what the hell happened to me?”
“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” Peter yelled into the phone, making you recoil from the volume of his excitement. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Y/N. I thought you were dead.”
“I am very much alive,” you laughed, slowly feeling the potion wearing off. “Where are you?”
“Uh. I may have run all the way to Midtown to ask Thor if I had killed you,” he admitted, feeling you roll your eyes through the screen. “I was worried, okay?”
“Now you know how I feel whenever you leave for a mission,” you countered, glad that Peter couldn’t see how much you were blushing. “Hurry up and get your butt back over here. I have the weirdest dream to tell you about.”
----------------
Even if you still weren’t getting a full eight hours of rest at night, it was obvious that all of Peter’s efforts had vastly improved your sleep schedule. Over the past few months, you had gone from staring at your ceiling all night to actually being able to stay asleep for small periods of time.
“Your eyelashes are so long,” you mused, playing with Peter’s hair. He was sitting in between your legs and How the Grinch Stole Christmas was playing on your TV.
“Really?” He tilted his head back to look at you, batting his eyelashes and making you giggle.
“Yes. It’s not fair that boys get all of the pretty eyelashes,” you pouted, watching as the Grinch explained his plan to steal all of Whoville’s presents to his dog.
“I think yours are pretty,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. “But there’s a rogue one just hanging out on your face right now.”
“Can you get it?” you asked, your eyes still glued on the TV screen. Peter nodded, twisting around to gently brush the eyelash from your cheek.
“Do you want to make a wish?” he laughed, holding the little eyelash on the tip of his finger in front of you.
“Okay,” you agreed, squeezing your eyes shut and blowing it away. When you opened them, Peter’s face was only inches away from yours.
“What did you wish for?” His gaze shifted downwards to look at your lips for a split second, before returning to look into your eyes.
“I can’t tell you, dummy. Then it won’t come true.” You weren’t about to tell your best friend that you wished for him to kiss you. At least not now, while the two of you were stuck in this really weird “not dating, but more than just friends” limbo.
“Fine,” he frowned, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that you recognized had been mimicked after you.
“Don’t make fun of me,” you said, mirroring his stance. Your puppy dog eyes were definitely a lot more convincing than his.
“I’m not.”
“Uh-huh, sure. You smell really good, by the way. Well, your hoodie does. I could just wrap myself up in it and fall asleep.”
“How come you’ve never mentioned that before? You could’ve been out cold every night months ago!”
“Guess I was just too distracted by your dreamy face,” you teased, causing Peter to blush.
“Whatever. Seriously, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t know. I think it took me a while to realize how sleepy I got whenever you were really close to me,” you shrugged. “You’re not mad at me, right?”
“Of course not. But if I had known sooner I would’ve just given you one,” he said, slipping the hoodie over his head and handing it to you. “Here, put it on. You better fall asleep instantly or I’m calling bullshit.”
“You caught me, Peter. This was all some elaborate plan for me to steal one of your hoodies.”
“Just put it on. The suspense is killing me.”
You rolled your eyes and pulled his hoodie on. Just from looking at Peter and how slim he was, you never would have guessed that it would be this oversized on you.
“How do I look?” you asked, striking silly poses in front of him. Peter involuntarily licked his lips and he knew he’d be replaying this image of you in his head for the next few weeks.
“You’re going to have to keep that,” he stammered, doing his best to hide how much he really liked seeing you in his clothes. “It looks a lot better on you. I, um, have to go do my homework. And call my aunt. And walk my roommate.”
Peter stumbled to his feet, staring at his wristwatch to maintain his act that he was late for something before grabbing his things and heading out the door, making sure to hold his backpack in front of him. “Let me know if the hoodie thing works. Bye!”
----------------
Brushing off Peter’s strangely abrupt departure from last night, you nuzzled into your pillow, the warm morning light spilling through your curtains. Last night had probably been your best sleep in months, and you even got to wake up late since it was Saturday. Things probably couldn’t have gone any better.
Before you knew it, you were running up to Peter’s room and banging on his door. He opened the door on your fourth knock, right after Ned had chucked a pillow at him, and you were met with his sleepy eyes and messy hair.
“It worked!” you yelped in excitement, twirling around and still wearing his hoodie. “Well, kind of. I fell asleep after about an hour, and then I slept for maybe three after that. But I had to pee in the middle of the night, and when I got back into bed I couldn’t fall back asleep until 6 a.m.”
“That’s some good progress,” he yawned, stepping out into the hallway to keep your little celebration from bothering Ned too much. “If only we could get you to sleep the entire night.”
“I know right. But I’m so happy!” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him. “We finally did something right!”
“We need to celebrate!” you continued, grabbing Peter’s hand and dragging him down the stairs. “Come on. We’re making you a chocolate cake!”
You stopped by your room on the way to the kitchen, piling a bunch of ingredients into Peter’s arms from your mini-fridge and various shelves.
“Okay, eggs, flour, butter, sugar, chocolate. Damn it. We’re all out of milk.” You side-eyed him, remembering the whole Captain America induced fiasco from a couple weeks ago.
“I think we might have some in our room,” Peter laughed. “Ned drinks a lot of milk mixed with Milo powder. It’s some obsession he picked up when his family took a vacation to Australia. I’ll go get it.”
He set all of the ingredients you had given him on your desk and sprinted back up the stairs to raid Ned’s stash, already thinking of ways to apologize for it later.
A few minutes later he was knocking on your door, out of breath, and dressed to brave the many inches of snow that had fallen overnight.
“We didn’t have any milk,” he panted. “But I can run to the dining hall and get a few cartons.”
“I’ll go with you.” You quickly pulled on your snow boots and layered your puffer coat on top of Peter’s hoodie, wrapping a hand-knit scarf around your neck just to be safe. “All ready.”
Getting the milk was the easy part. Making sure you didn’t die of frostbite was another story. By the time you and Peter got back to your room, your nose was super red and you couldn’t feel your toes.
“Okay,” you said, your teeth chattering. “I thought I was used to the snow by now, but that was something else.” You dropped your coat on the ground and climbed into your bed, burying yourself under your comforter.
“I thought we were making a cake,” he laughed, walking over to see you peeking out of the pile.
“Cake will have to wait,” you whined, your voice slightly muffled by the blanket. “Come here. I need some of your body heat.”
“Okay,” he stuttered, kicking off his sneakers and climbing in beside you. He had sat on your bed a lot since the two of you met, but this was the first time that he was actually laying in it. You snuggled up to him, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.
“This is nice,” you sighed, nuzzling your head into his chest. “Is this one of your superpowers? Spidey-warmth?” Peter let out a soft laugh. It was silly but true. Ever since the bite, he never really noticed how cold it was outside anymore.
“Y/N,” he whispered, tightening his grip around your waist. Your head was nestled underneath his chin, and he could smell the faint citrus scent of your shampoo. “I need to tell you something.”
“What is it, Pete?” you yawned, your eyelids heavy from how comfy Peter’s cuddles were.
“I love you.” He held his breath, nervously waiting for you to respond.
“I know,” you giggled, intertwining your legs. “Sometimes, you talk in your sleep. You’ve probably professed your love for me at least eight times by now.”
“Oh.” Peter had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that.
“Don’t worry. I love you, too,” you assured him, grinning and placing little kisses on his jawline. “I thought that was obvious.”
“Maybe you could make it a little more obvious,” he mumbled, his heartbeat getting quicker as you shifted up to kiss him on the lips, your hand running through his hair.
“I will,” you smiled, your forehead resting against his. “But after we take a nap, okay?”
“Okay,” Peter agreed, snuggling as close as he possibly could to you, never wanting to let go. In no time at all, he watched happily as you fell asleep in his arms, wondering how the two of you hadn’t thought of this sooner.
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#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker fluff#peter parker imagine#peter parker oneshot#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker#spiderman#spiderman x reader#marvel#mcu#tom holland x reader#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fluff
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Soulmates: How John Met Sherlock...Again Chapter 7
Happy Friday, my friends! I'm so sorry for making you all wait so long. It has been a busy week with lots of travel and time with the kids. Parts of me are SO sunburned. Haha! I hope all of you are having as much fun.
This chapter is shorter than some of the others, but it's a good one and I think you'll agree that it moves things in a positive direction. Let me know what you think at the end!
---
The fresh produce aisle at Tesco is far too busy for three o’clock on a Thursday afternoon. John Watson inches his way in between two older women to grab some apples with a minimum of dirty looks. Once he extracts himself again, he glances down the way and debates on how he’s going to get his hands on some oranges. After a moment of seriously considering bananas instead, a hole clears out in front of the display and he hurries to it. John just slips in before a woman speaking loudly on her mobile can take the spot and she glares at him all the while until John has his bag of oranges. He knows her type - can’t be bothered to wait for anyone else or show any consideration - so he makes sure to take his time and gives her a false friendly grin as he turns to walk away.
John heads to dairy and the refrigerated sections for milk, cheese, yogurt and eggs. He takes a jaunt through frozen foods and catches the bread before starting down the coffee and tea aisle. Plucking two of his favorite kinds of tea off the shelf, he makes his way to the coffee. How he and Gracie managed to run out of so many things at once, he has no idea.
The coffee section is as ridiculously full as fruit and veg was, so John waits off to the side a minute or two until it clears out. His eyes are scanning the shelves for his brand when the corner of a basket pokes him in the side. When he turns his head, he is greeted by the face of the loud woman from before. John can’t stop the frown on his face and she must remember him too because she gives him a sour expression before turning her back on him. John turns back to the coffee and tries to tune out her noisy complaints to the poor bastard on the line.
John just has the coffee he wants in his hand when a basket shoves up against his back again. The woman’s shrill voice still in his ear, John rounds on her with every intention of putting her in her place. He has dealt with more than his fair share of pompous idiots over the years and will not put up with it in bloody Tesco.
“Do you mind?” John demands, every inch of him exuding Captain Watson, but he stops before saying anything more. The rude woman is a good six feet away and heading up the aisle, nearly shouting into her mobile. It couldn’t have been she who bumped into him. To John’s surprise, directly in front of him and holding the offending basket is Greg Lestrade. John blinks once, a movement mirrored on Greg’s face as they stare with slackened jaws.
“John? John Watson?” a grin blooms on Greg’s face in an instant. He moves his basket aside and offers his hand, which John shakes without hesitation. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Hello, Greg,” John greets warmly. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a long time.”
“It’s been bloody years,” Greg exclaims as he shifts right to let a shopper pass by. “How have you been?”
“Well, bit of a rough start, but good. Very good,” John tells him, angling left for a passerby.
“Glad to hear it,” Greg remarks with a nod.
“What about you?” John asks before Greg has the chance to continue. “I heard you got a promotion, Chief Detective Inspector.”
“I did at that,” Greg laughs good-naturedly. “I don’t get out into the field quite as much. Paperwork’s a bitch, but it gives me time to take a day off for shopping. It’s good for my DIs to muddle through on their own every once in a while.”
Greg pauses a moment to let a woman with a pram pass and John mirrors his motions. The aisle seems twice as full as when John set foot in it.
“And you?” Greg asks when they have a bit of room again. “You’re back for good?”
“I am,” John puffs up his chest, genuinely pleased. He had wanted to move back to London as soon as Mary left. “Sort of inherited a practice from an old friend, so here we are. My little girl and I. Gracie. She’s eight now.”
“Fantastic. You’ve settled in and all? Been here a little while then?”
Before John can answer Greg, an irritable man pushes past them and they both find themselves a little off balance and cursing.
“Bloody hell,” John says loudly as the bloke hurries on. When he turns back to Greg, the CDI is holding his basket in the space between them to allow more room for people to pass.
“Look, you’re almost finished, yeah?” Greg begins and John nods once. “So am I. No perishables and you can run yours home. We’ll meet for coffee in an hour. D’you know the Division Cafe?”
“I do,” John replies, relieved for the good fortune of Greg’s picking a place he is familiar with. “Sounds great. I’d like to catch up, but what the hell are you going to do for an hour while I drop this lot?”
“Take a leisurely walk to the cafe,” Greg chuckles as they start for the front of the store to cash out. “It’ll give me a chance to check in on the office.”
“Oh no, don’t do that,” John jokes. “No need to spoil your day off. I don’t want to be responsible for that. How will I sleep tonight?”
“All right then,” Greg tells him wryly. “I’ll just tag along with you. We’ll have plenty of time to get back up to speed before we even get there.”
“If you insist,” John is delighted by the suggestion. He has truly missed the CDI over the last ten years and often considered phoning to talk, but never did follow through. Now with Greg in front of him and plenty of time on his hands since Candace is scheduled to watch Gracie after school, he is loath to refuse his friend anything.
“I do insist,” Greg laughs as he places items on the conveyor belt for checkout, “and I’m buying.”
John grins and shrugs.
“Who am I to refuse?”
The next hour passes quickly as they catch a cab to John’s flat and make their way to the cafe. Not a moment is spent in silence. John tells Greg all about Gracie and their flat in Bath. He touches on Mary and Rosie, but quickly jumps ahead to the move back to London. For his part, Greg fills John in on his biggest cases over the years with an emphasis on those that brought about his promotion. By the time they reach Division and sit down with coffees, Greg has just gotten to the cohabitant Sherlock had mentioned in the park. John has the sneaking suspicion that Greg wanted to wait until he was sitting down before mentioning it, so it should be pretty good.
“I heard you were with someone,” John sips from his mug. “Anyone I know from the old days?”
“Uh, yeah,” Greg answers, running his hand up the back of his own neck and wearing a sheepish smile. “Mycroft Holmes.”
“What?” John’s eyes are wide. His lips remain parted in disbelief as the right corner of his mouth quirks up in a half smirk. Greg shrugs in affirmation. “Now that I did not expect.”
“Five years now. Actually,” Greg hesitates and John can tell he is trying to contain a really brilliant smile, “I asked him to marry me only last Sunday.”
“Oh my god. Congratulations,” John declares. “Greg, that’s fantastic news! Tell me, has he mellowed over the years?”
“He has, actually,” Greg answers, reigning in his laughter. He bites the inside of his cheek and looks John over with trepidation in his eyes. His friend eyes him quizzically from behind his mug. Decision made, the CDI picks up his own cup and brings it to his mouth as he says: “Being a doting uncle helps too.”
John swallows and places his coffee cup on the table between them. His brows arch briefly before falling again.
“It’s hard to imagine,” John says ruefully, not meeting Greg’s knowing gaze.
“No more than his baby brother having a child,” he remarks easily, watching John closely. The doctor shoots him a sharp look and chuckles under his breath as he leans back in his seat. With a sardonic smile, John looks down at where his hands rest on the table with his fingers wrapped around the mug of dark liquid.
“That’s the understatement of the year,” John mutters. He raises his eyes to his friend’s face to see Greg’s lips turned up on one side in a crooked and very amused smirk. John doesn’t say a word, giving him ample time to explain.
“Is it?” is all Greg says, his smirk growing more satisfied. John huffs a quick laugh and shakes his head slightly. Straightening up in his seat and leaning his elbows on the table, John fixes Greg with an incredulous face.
“Come on,” he begins and is unable to keep the touch of a plea from his tone. “You can’t say something like that and not fill in the blanks.”
“What? He didn’t tell you?” Greg replies coyly, turning his cup on the table and picking it up by the handle.
“You damn well know he didn’t,” John huffs again. “We ran into each other at the bloody park after ten years of not speaking.”
“Yeah? And whose fault is that?” Greg mutters grimly.
John stills instantly, lips parted with words that die on his tongue. Greg doesn’t look angry exactly, but he certainly isn’t pleased. Of all the people John expected to hold onto any animosity toward him, Greg Lestrade wasn’t even on the list.
John takes a shaky breath and closes his mouth. How can he even explain? It doesn’t even make sense in his own mind anymore. He swallows audibly, the very beginnings of sweat blooming at his temples. Greg is asking him to do what Sherlock could have in the park. What he still could, but probably never will. Not the Sherlock John knows.
“Mary was done,” John’s voice is choked and quiet. “With London and the surgery, but most of all with Sherlock. Revealing her secrets to me was the last nail in the coffin.”
“Funny you should say that,” Greg leans forward, his eyes ablaze and his voice low. “She shot him, John. She killed him. Stubborn bastard brought himself back from the dead and for what? His best friend to run off with his killer.”
“She was my wife,” John croaks barely above a whisper. “She was carrying my child.”
“You were married for all of two months,” Greg’s brown eyes are hard and bore into John’s very being like a hot poker. “She was a liar from the beginning.”
Greg clenches his teeth as if to stop himself from saying something and John has no doubt the words would cut him to the core. The muscles beneath the skin stretched across Greg’s jaw work constantly as he struggles to keep his cool in the crowded cafe. He sits back ever so slightly, pulling his elbows closer to the edge of the table, his intense gaze pinning John to his seat.
“When she left you,” Greg growls, trying to keep his voice even, “you could’ve called him. Hell, you could’ve done it before that. You knew where he was. You knew his number. He had no idea where you were and it nearly destroyed him.”
Silence hangs heavily in the air between them, even with the noise of the milk steamer and patrons all around. As much as John wants to look away in shame, he cannot break away from his friend’s furious glare. The source of Greg’s ire is suddenly crystal clear. Sherlock may have refused to hear Mycroft’s news of John’s life over the years, but Greg obviously hadn’t and it fueled his anger as time went on. John clears his throat, wincing at the sting of its sudden dryness.
“He started using again?” John’s heart sinks to his feet as he asks it. He had hoped against hope that Sherlock wouldn’t fall into oblivion without him. Greg lets out a mirthless laugh.
“No, he didn’t bloody use,” the words are a sneer and his lips curl. “But he was miserable. He disappeared into the flat for months and looked like hell when he resurfaced. He worked cases, but he was on auto-pilot until he met Jessie.”
“Jessie?” John asks, desperately curious. This, this is what he wants most to know. Olive’s mother. Sherlock’s wife? Where is she? Who is she? How did they meet? John has a thousand questions and now he knows for certain that Greg holds all of the answers. John need only ask, or so he thinks.
“No,” the CDI shakes his head and leans all the way back in his chair. He chews on his lip and puffs out an angry breath. “If you want to know, you’ll have to ask him. I’ll be damned if I give you an easy out.”
“You’re right,” John breathes out his shame in a sigh. “Anything I want to know should come from him.”
He raises his troubled eyes to Greg’s face and sees some of the anger on it has dissipated in favor of irritated approval. John straightens his spine and scrubs his hands through his short, silver-blonde hair. Pressing his lips in on each other, he inhales deeply and shakes his head.
“God, how I failed him, Greg,” John murmurs. Words he has thought often and never actually uttered. “I was so tired and felt betrayed and he kept saying I should stay with Mary. That I should forgive her because she’d actually saved his life by shooting him. It’s such bullshit.”
“He wanted you to keep her close for Rosie’s sake,” Greg tells him. His eyes are softer than they have been since they walked in the coffee shop. “And for yours. He knew you would never live in 221B again, but you and Rosie were worth it. I don’t think he realized Mary would convince you to leave.”
“Her final revenge,” John mutters angrily as Greg sighs.
“Just...don’t make the same mistakes twice, John. Don’t shut him out,” Greg advises sagely, finally raising his coffee cup to his lips again and taking a quick sip. “Olive says she and Gracie want to have a playdate at the flat, but you’re holding them up.”
John watches Greg uneasily. Memories of 221B start skipping through his mind and with them, feelings he has left buried for ten years. John shakes them away and wraps his hands around his own mug.
“I don’t know if I can go back there,” John says.
“It won’t be easy,” Greg tells him, placing his cup on the table. He leans in and fixes John with a very serious gaze. “Stop running, John.”
With those three words, John’s mind clears. The simplicity of it is stunning and utterly heartbreaking. How many years would he and Sherlock have been friends again if John had just faced his fears, accepted responsibility for his mistakes and reached out to the detective? What the hell had happened to him and when had he let go of Captain Watson? John had lost half of himself all these years and never seemed to take notice. Sure, he had thought that Sherlock didn’t care anymore, even after Rosie died, but when had the man’s moods ever stopped him from horning in before? He punched him in the face as a cover, fucking wrestled him to the ground because he was angry with the git. He tried to comfort Sherlock when he thought he was in love with Irene Adler, for Christ sake. John Watson...always by his side and ready to kick the shit out of anyone who would touch him.
Filled with a new resolve, John squares his shoulders and meets Greg’s eyes. His own are determined and set, the decision made. He will accept Sherlock’s invitation and take Gracie to his old home. Maybe he’ll even invite himself in for tea and see if the man who was once his best friend will allow him back into his life. Maybe Sherlock will let him try to repair their friendship. God, John hopes so.
---
All I can say is Greg Motherfucking Lestrade, the dark horse in this story. Hell, yeah!
Thank you so much for all the love and support. I definitely wouldn't be here without all of you!
Love, Jane
@johnlock-rocks
#Sherlock Holmes#Sherlock#sherlockholmes#sherlock fanfic#sherlock loves john#john watson#johnwatson#johnlock#Johnlock fanfic#John loves Sherlock#Mystrade
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more isekai fic. specifically, this is (probably) how the first chapter of the ‘original novel’ of mc 1 started off. i really should come up with a proper tag for this one of these days.
“So where were you,” Etta says absentmindedly from her seat at the dining table as Allison flings the door to their apartment open. “Careful with the door, my brother used to kick my door open for funsies and we ended up with a hole in the wall -- you know, where the doorknob hit it? Think about the deposit.”
“I got kidnapped,” Allison says flatly.
“That’s nice,” Etta says, because of course she does, not even looking up from her laptop. “Evan brought over some banana bread, you want any?” She pushes a full tupperware a little closer to Allison.
Allison contemplates actually outlining the details of said kidnapping to Etta -- closing her laptop, and explaining exactly how she was ambushed outside of a coffee shop by some strange magical man with strange magical powers to some strange magical realm -- by the way, yeah, magic is a thing -- only to be broken out by a different strange magical man with strange magical powers, except he didn’t actually take you back to anywhere that you actually recognized so you had to wander around aimlessly with a bunch of other people who had been kidnapped until you found the proper exit.
Haha. She’d sound completely insane.
Allison sighs and makes a grab for the tupperware. “Yeah. You said Evan?” She takes a vicious bite of banana bread. It’s good. It’s so good.
“Evan,” Etta agrees. “I feel a little bad, like you know he’s stress-baking so he probably just failed an exam or project or something, but… he always gives such good stuff when he’s in a bad mood, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Allison shoves the rest of her slice in her mouth, drops her backpack on the floor, and walks over to her bed, where she flops face-first with a wordless groan.
Allison has had a full and exciting day.
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