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sopebubbles · 1 year

Text

Two

Masterlist

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: the boys try to find your pack and face some painful truths.

Warnings: I feel like I should warn you that mc does not appear on screen at all for this whole chapter, language, honestly it's just pretty fuckin angsty.

Wc: 4k

The ride through the kaleidoscope of traffic lights and street lamps passed in near silence as they got closer to your address. Jungkook didn't notice, as caught up as he was in his own head, but for Yoongi the tension was excruciating. With one hand still on the wheel he stretched the other out to grip Jungkook's arm.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Jungkook turned slowly to look at the other. "Talk about what?"

With a knowing smile that wasn't truly happy at all, Yoongi slid his hand down to grasp Jungkook's fist, which had been clenched to trembling on his thigh.

"Whatever is bothering you."

Jungkook rubbed his forehead and sighed, consciously unclenching his fist to let his fingers slot between Yoongi's and take the comfort the alpha's large, warm hands offered. He wouldn't really know where to begin. He'd seen so much shit today, the worst parts of society, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. When he first became a cop less than a year ago, he thought he could make a difference, make this world a safer place for everyone in it. But he'd quickly learned that more often than not he was merely a witness, someone who gathered the pieces to say this is what happened when something terrible occurred and to pray for justice that would likely never come. Sometimes it was just a bit too much to handle or to speak of.

Yoongi knew that all too well. And Jungkook knew the offer to talk was just that, an offer, not a demand. Like Jungkook and Jimin, Yoongi saw horror on a daily basis, and he knew there were times that there weren't words to speak. All the pack knew there was an overwhelming amount of injustice all around them. Jin saw so much evidence of it in his office where he worked within the legal system to try and make a difference. But none of them saw it as viscerally each and every day the way the three of them did.

"I can't stop thinking about the phone call with that woman. The way she sounded…not just disgusted but shocked. She really had no idea that Y/N isn't Sap. How is that even possible?"

Yoongi shrugged. "It's not uncommon for Lykos to try to pass for Sapiens in the workplace. It's usually only betas who can get away with it but," he shrugged again. "You said it was a bar right? Between scent blockers and so many other people, maybe it's easy to hide. She gets better wages, better tips. Even though lots of professions aren't required to disclose a second gender, there are plenty of assholes out there that won't hire an omega. Or an alpha for that matter," Yoongi added.

Jungkook sneered. "I still can't believe there are betas out there who honestly think it's better for them to pretend to be Saps. I could never imagine doing that. To just disown your entire heritage like that?" He shook his head and stared out the window.

Yoongi just pursed his lips. He didn't think he could explain it to Jungkook, nor did he think it would matter at the moment. It was good that Jungkook was a proud Lykos, that he was proud of his family and his pack. But Yoongi knew from experience that it wasn't so easy for everyone. Passing for Sapien was, in most cases, a uniquely beta privilege. It was probably even harder for alphas than omegas in Yoongi's opinion. If Yoongi could have passed for Sapien or if alphas weren't so strongly discriminated against, he might have gone to med school and become a doctor. Not that Yoongi was complaining. He was proud to do his job most of the time, even if it wasn't everything he had once dreamed. Luckily, Yoongi didn't have to continue the conversation because the GPS on his phone told them they had arrived.

The building they were looking at was a dingy, dilapidated brown that hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint in several decades. Just as well. The building would probably be better off torn down than renovated.

"Jesus," Yoongi muttered under his breath. Jungkook unbuckled his seat belt. "Wait, let's have a plan. You wanna do good cop, bad cop?" Yoongi asked, gesturing first to his partner and then to himself.

Jungkook shook his head but there was a smile on his lips. "How about a cop and a concerned citizen."

Yoongi sighed. "Sounds lame, but okay."

The pair exited the vehicle and walked briskly up to the front door. The external entrance to the building didn't appear to have any functional lock, and Yoongi's alpha growled in his head at the lack of security as they walked right in the door. Inside, they could hear several TVs playing loudly, probably trying and failing to drown out the sound of the couple fighting on the second floor who they heard as Jungkook navigated them to the unit printed on your license. The mixture of scents in the building was just as loud. Everyone living in the building must be Lykos. When they arrived at #23–only the gold 2 was still present on the door while the 3 was outlined by peeling brown paint–Jungkook rapped on the door with three firm, decisive knocks. Yoongi could practically hear every asshole in the building clench at the sound of what could only be a cop's knock. He had to suppress a chuckle.

After a few seconds, they heard the sound of a chain and several deadbolts make way so that a young Lykos could open the door a few inches. By the smell of her, Yoongi would guess she was a beta.

"Good evening, ma'am. We're sorry to bother you. We're looking for the home of a woman named Y/N Y/L/N. Does she live here?"

"No, sir. She doesn't live here." The woman replied mechanically. Jungkook couldn't read her expression from behind the door.

"Please, we need to get in touch with her family. If you have any information about her," Jungkook pressed.

The woman hesitated a moment before speaking again. "Wait just a moment."

She closed the door on them and Jungkook and Yoongi shared a look of raised eyebrows. The former hoped to hear the slide of the last chain, but seconds ticked by and when she returned the door remained blocked. The woman passed several envelopes through the small space.

"I think she must have been that sad omega that lived here before me. I've been collecting these. Meant to take them to be returned to sender but I keep forgetting. Maybe you can get them to her."

Jungkook took the envelopes, not knowing what else he could do. He cleared his throat. "Thanks."

The beta closed the door once again without another word.

Jungkook heaved a defeated sigh and turned back to Yoongi. He flipped through the various envelopes he had been given. Past dues and final notices in among the junk. Just as they were about to walk toward the exit, a door on the opposite side of the hall opened, and a man stood against the door jam with his arms crossed.

"You looking for that little omega girl?" The tall man asked. Yoongi didn't need to smell him to know he was an alpha. He didn't want to smell him.

"Maybe. You know anything about her?" Jungkook replied vaguely.

"Y/N, right?" Jungkook gave a curt nod. "She lived across the hall for a year and a half. Three weeks ago she was evicted," the alpha informed him. Jungkook looked down at the late bills in his hand. That made sense.

"Any idea where she lives now? Or how to get in touch with her pack?" Yoongi chimed in.

The man gave an amused smile and shook his head. "This is not a place for people with packs," he answered with a gesture toward the general state of the place. "People in this building are usually lone wolves," he added. "Not that I didn't offer to help her with her heats, you know? I'm a helpful guy, especially for a pretty little omega like that."

Jungkook swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat while Yoongi merely stared the man down with a stoney look usually reserved for people who walked a little too close to Hoseok.

"Yeah, thanks for your help," Jungkook muttered as he walked past the man's door and down the hall toward the exit. Yoongi held his stance until Jungkook was a few paces ahead and then fell in line.

The drive back home was even more silent than before, and when they finally arrived they were surprised to find the house just as quiet. All five of their pack members were still awake, but no one spoke as Hoseok sat at the entrance to the hallway and stared down Namjoon and Taehyung. Jin cradled Jimin in his lap with his face buried in Jimin's scent gland. Or maybe it was Jimin that was holding him down.

"What's going on here?" Yoongi chuckled as he dropped his keys into the communal dish.

"These spoiled little alpha fucks have forgotten what the word no means," Hoseok replied, arms flexing as the crossed tightly over his chest.

"Is that so?" Yoongi asked with a raised brow.

"Yes, and just in case you've forgotten too: it means you cannot mount strange omegas without their consent, and consent cannot be given in the middle of heat," Hoseok said tightly.

"Jesus, did you jump her?" Jungkook asked, looking at his mates.

"No. We did not jump her!" Namjoon insisted just a little too forcefully.

"But you would have!" Hoseok fired back. "Alpha scum."

"You're acting like we're pigs or something," Taehyung grumbled.

"You are pigs," Jimin offered from behind him.

"You guys don't get it," Jin finally broke in, showing his face for the first time. "It's not like we want to fuck her. It's just a need. We are alphas, it's our duty to breed an omega in heat."

Yoongi shook his head as he joined his fellow alphas on the couch, squeezing in between Jin and Taehyung before pulling Jimin half-way into his lap to get a sniff because yeah, your scent had saturated every molecule of air inside the house. "Yeah, I don't think that's gonna fly this time, Jin."

"Look, we are doing our best to control ourselves here. Can you give us some credit?" Namjoon asked, but he only met with Hoseok's stony glare.

"Do you think her actual alphas will be thanking you for your bare minimum decency?" He turned his head to Jungkook. "Speaking of which, did you find them?"

Jungkook sat down near Hoseok and for once made an effort not to let his scent spread out, not until he could level himself out. The omega was on high alert, and didn't miss the pungent edge of mildew coming from him. Hoseok grabbed his sleeve and tugged until the beta scooted closer.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He urged as he ran fingers through Jungkook's hair.

The youngest sighed. "She doesn't live there but she used to. An old neighbor said she got evicted a few weeks back."

"No forwarding address?" Jin asked, fighting to keep his clarity.

"Neighbor said she was a 'lone wolf,'" Yoongi added, voice muffled by Jimin.

"Alone?" Someone echoed as Jungkook rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"That place…it was awful. Even though I see it all the time—I don't think. I come home every night and I let myself forget that there are people out there with no pack, who are struggling just to survive."

"Kookie," Hoseok cooed, rubbing a hand up and down his mate's back.

"We're very lucky," Jin agreed.

"There are so many loners these days. We're trying so hard to get kids into good packs, but it can be tough to find the right fit. And so many of them have trust issues or have never had a pack…they don't know what they're getting into at all. It scares me to think that could have been me," Jimin reflected. It was only a handful of years ago that a chance meeting with Yoongi had led him to his home. Jimin's light scent and lack of a family history often excluded him from groups and from forming proper bonds with other Lykos. He was the last to join their pack, but it was always a blessing.

The sadness filling the room and his mates caused panic to rise in Hoseok's chest. His fingers curled into Jungkook's shirt. "Maybe the neighbor was wrong. Maybe she moved out to move in with a pack!" He suggested with forced cheerfulness. "Did you find any other leads in her bag?"

Jungkook shook his head. "I didn't have a chance."

Hoseok popped to his feet. "I'll go get it from the room!" He paused as he turned. "Keep your eyes on those four," he added before padding to your door and closing it behind him in a futile attempt to keep your heavy scent inside.

"I was just reading an article today about how pack life is healthier for people. Omegas live 8 years longer on average as part of a pack than alone," Namjoon told them just to fill the silence. He was one of the lucky ones, like Jin, Hoseok, Tae and Jungkook, who had only ever known pack life. For them any other way seemed inconceivable. They'd gone from pups to their own mature pack without ever living one night on their own, but even the thought of it ached with unbearable loneliness. Lykos were not meant to be alone.

Hoseok returned a moment later, large black purse in hand.

"How is she?" Yoongi asked.

Hoseok gave a dramatic eye roll. "She's fine."

"Hyung," Tae whined.

"She's so fucking out of it she doesn't know where she is right now, Taehyung."

That did not soothe any of the alphas fraying nerves.

"Maybe we could just cuddle–"

"No." Hoseok cut Namjoon off. "You are not going in there for anything. End of discussion."

He dropped the bag on the floor in front of Jungkook, who opened it and began to carefully sort through your belongings. At the top of the bag was a change of clothes that he couldn't stop himself from taking a sniff of, catching your normal crisp apple scent instead of the gooey apple pie you were giving off tonight. The trace on the shirt was so faint it was almost drowned out among the other smells in the house.

"Let me smell it," Namjoon chirped before he could stop himself.

"Don't you feel embarrassed?" Hoseok returned quickly and harshly, and Namjoon cowed his head because he did.

Jungkook merely set the clothes to the side and continued to search. Next he pulled out two boxes of extra strength scent blockers, the kind that go inside your nose so you don't smell anyone around you, and then a bottle of scent spray that you bought at a Sap store. It smelled similar to your apple, but more artificial and layered with other scents.

"I guess this is how she passes," Jungkook mumbled as he set the items in front of Hoseok, who picked up the bottle and sniffed its top, wrinkling his nose at the chemical smell. Your scent was much nicer than that.

The pack's attention was drawn to a rattling sound before Jungkook pulled out a large plastic medicine bottle. He looked briefly at the label before shaking the bottle and then handed it to Hoseok.

"If she had a full bottle of heat suppressants, why did she go down like that?" Jungkook wondered aloud.

The omega beside him unscrewed the cap and shook a single pill into his hand. "Holy fuck! I didn't know they were this big! How does anyone swallow that?"

"Let me see?" Jimin asked. He was probably more familiar with heat suppressants than any other pack member because they were required in order to stay in pretty much any mixed-gender shelter, and even in many single-gender ones. Hoseok replaced the cap and tossed the bottle across the room. Jimin picked it out of the air with one hand and brought it down in front of him and Yoongi. "Where the fuck did she get these?" Jimin asked after reading the label.

"What is it?" Jungkook asked. It wasn't something he was particularly well-versed in since Hobi had never taken any. And he'd never had any other omega.

"I've only ever heard about these," Yoongi said, taking the bottle from Jimin. "Some omega activists are trying to get these banned. They have mega doses of hormones to stop heats, but they can cause permanent damage to an omega's reproductive system. I've also heard that most omegas don't like to take them unless they have to because the side effects are really harsh."

"I've heard rumors that some of the shelters give them out to omegas who want to stay," Jimin added.

"Is this one of them?" Jungkook asked when he found a crumpled flier in your bag. The paper showed a posed group of people wearing smiles outside a generic looking building in the downtown area. It also stated the hours of operation and contact information. Jimin held out a hand and Jungkook passed it through the alphas to him.

Jimin gasped quietly. "This is the worst shelter in town. The people who run this are fundamentalists who think that Lykos are abominations. They preach that we are unnatural and against god. Kids sometimes come to us from there and have said they were prevented from nesting or sharing beds with others. I'm sure they gave her these before letting her in but-" That didn't answer how you had ended up in your current state.

Jungkook thought he was going to be sick, and he wasn't alone.

"Why would anyone go to an organization like that?" Taehyung wondered, his hand sliding into Namjoon's.

"Some people don't have any choice," Jimin answered.

Everyone sat in quiet thought for a moment until the sound of Jungkook's sob broke from his chest. Six heads snapped in his direction, but only one spoke up.

"Jungkook, come here, baby," Jin said with arms held open. Jimin moved down to sit over Namjoon and Taehyung while Yoongi squeezed to make room for Jungkook. In spite of being a beta, Jungkook was just a little too large to sit comfortably in the pack alpha's lap, but he sat down and let Jin pull his legs over his lap and snuggled into his chest. "Tell alpha what's going on," Jin cooed.

Jungkook tried to calm his sobs, which got easier when Yoongi pressed himself against the beta's back. It took a minute before he was able to speak, but no one rushed him.

"I saw an omega get killed today," he finally said in a watery voice. "He was just a couple years younger than Y/N. He was alone and he was shot by some hateful Sap, for no reason. And all I could think at the time was where is his pack? Why didn't they protect him? But he didn't have a pack. There wasn't anyone to call. And then we found Y/N. And I just…why isn't there anyone to call?"

Jin hugged the man tighter to his chest and let him cry. "It's okay, Kook. Let it out. It's okay. There are four good alphas here and no one is going to get hurt," he assured in a soft voice.

Jungkook sucked in the deepest breath he could before he pulled away and leaned into Yoongi. "Sorry, it was kind of a fucked up day," he said as he wiped his eyes.

Yoongi gave his arm a squeeze, one that said he was sorry there were so many fucked up days, because Yoongi always knew more about them than the others, because sometimes Yoongi and Jungkook would lay in the nest in the spare room and whisper the things that haunted them before they could go to sleep.

"You should have told me before we went out, Kookie. We didn't have to go." Jimin reached a hand out across the alphas and Jungkook took it.

"I'm glad we did though." He didn't want to think what it would be like otherwise.

"Pup, you need to tell us when things are weighing on you like that," Hoseok chided, still rooted to his spot on the floor.

"I honestly can't bring that to you all the time," Jungkook admitted.

"We’re your pack, Jungkook-ah," Jin reminded him. "It's our job to share your burden, especially when it's too hard."

"I'll try."

Hoseok sighed. "It's late. Everyone, go to bed. We can decide what to do next in the morning."

No one argued with the omega. The tone of the conversation had dampened their yearning for you in the other room.

"Are you coming, my love?" Jin asked with an arm outstretched to pull him up.

Hoseok shook his head. "You all go on."

"Honey, you can't sit here all night."

"I'll get some things settled for her and then I'll sleep on the couch. No one will get past me."

Jin pouted. "But it won't be the same in the nest without you. You haven't even gotten a chance to build it up yet. How can we sleep there?" Seokjin always became so codependent when he was sleepy.

Hoseok's resolve cracked just a little.

"Hobi, you go up. I'll stay down here. I think I'd be more relaxed that way anyway," Jungkook suggested. It would be easier to rest if he knew you were safe from danger. Is this what it felt like to be an alpha all the time?

Hoseok grumbled but he was already giving in. "I can't let you go to sleep smelling like that."

With a wave of the omega's hand, all of his packmates gathered around Jungkook and marked wherever they could reach until he smelled like the unique blend of scents that to him smelled like home. When they finally backed away, Jungkook wore a dopey, scent-high smile, and Hoseok could go upstairs to his nest with one fewer worry.

Once they had all gone up to bed, Jungkook took a thick blanket from the hall closet that was too thick to use this time of year and laid it out on the floor in front of your door along with a pillow from the couch. He thought briefly about going in to check on you, but he honestly wasn't sure he would be able to stop himself from climbing in the nest to cuddle you. He couldn't stop thinking about the way they wouldn't let you sleep with others in the shelter, or how you had probably slept alone for at least a year and a half prior to that. But Hoseok was right about boundaries and consent, and he could be good if he just stayed on this side of the door. If you couldn't be comforted, you could at least be safe.

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#bts a/b/o #bts omegaverse au #bts ot7 #bts poly au #bts series #bts fic #bts fan fiction #bts yoongi #bts jungkook #bts hobi #bts namjoon #bts jimin #bts jin #bts taehyung #bts x reader #bts angst #lone wolf #sopebubbles 🧼

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 10 months

Note

so I just read Doodles (and adored it!!) and now I can't stop thinking abt Miguel trying to sketch the reader, but having no artistic abilities and therefore failling miserably. a sequel perhaps??

((not sure if you're still taking requests tho. love ur work anyway!!)

hii!! AW that’s so kind, thank you! I absolutely loved writing this, thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

doodles (part 2)

Miguel O’hara x f reader

wc || 881

warnings || none just fluff

part 1 -> doodles

masterlist + rules

Miguel has many talents, but drawing is not one of them. He has an indispensable need for perfectionism, so anything he was automatically good at frustrated him massively.

Since you've shared your knack for drawing with him, things have somewhat progressed between you both. Your relationship wasn't definite as of yet, but it was like the wedge between you two dissipated, like there was no longer a divide. You both spoke more freely with each other as if there was now a common understanding, like there were no secrets, well, still some secrets.

So now, when you'd hang out, you kept your doodle pad away, preferring to immerse yourself in conversation with Miguel rather than sketch your time away. He noticed how you were more present, more attentive while you were with him, and though he'd never admit it aloud, it made his heart feel full for you to want to spend time with him.

"You got your uh- notepad?" he asks, changing the subject of today's events at HQ.

"Always," you smile, head tilting to the side as if to understand him better. "Why'd you ask?"

"I want to try something," he sheepishly grins, his demeanour coltish as he avoids your gaze. "Can I borrow it?"

You playfully squint your eyes as you watch his expression soften. "I suppose,"

"And a pencil?" he adds, his tone sweet and juvenile as he extends a hand.

You weren't completely certain about what he had planned, but you had an idea.

"Okay, turn around a bit... no, towards me... now, put your arm up... yeah, on the table... no, your elbow. Mierda," (shit) he chuckles, shaking his head. "Put that there," he grins, adjusting you, moving you around in your chair. "Now, relax," his smile widens as he gazes at you across the table. "Hermosa," (beautiful) muttering under his breath.

His grin slowly fades as the lead touches the paper, looking stumped as he peeks at you over the notepad. He softly sighs as he begins to sketch you, glancing up at you every few seconds, sometimes looking at you more than necessary.

"How's it looking?" you sweetly ask, trying not to move too much.

"It's uh- it's," he pauses, masking the unsatisfied look on his face. "Good," he shrugs, his tone unconvincing as he continues to draw you.

He didn't have to say anything for you to know what he was thinking. His expressions were clear enough, even if he thought he hid them well.

"Can't wait to see it," you reassure, your eyes soften as they meet his.

He sighs heavily as he guides the pencil over the paper, flick-like strokes around the page as if he's sketching your hair. "It's terrible, cariño," (honey) he huffs, visibly frustrated as he drops the pad to the table. "Sorry,"

"No, no, don't be," you grin, standing from your seat, joining him on his side of the table. "Can I?" you ask, reaching for the pencil tightly gripped within his fist.

He nods, extending it towards you with a wry smile.

"Why you being so hard on yourself? It looks good," you partially lie.

It wasn't an awful drawing. It just wasn't great. You hated the idea of lying to Miguel, but surely this one time would be okay, a small white lie to avoid hurting his feelings. For someone who doesn't often do anything artistic and creative, it was actually a pretty solid effort. And although he wasn't one to care for art, you could tell this meant a lot to him, like he was trying to impress you or show another side to himself, a softer side even.

You could tell that he was frustrated in his attempts, so you reassured him, placing your warm palm over his forearm. "I think it looks great, Miguel," you smile. "Would it be okay if I help you?" you question, being careful with your wording to avoid the possibility of upsetting him.

"Go ahead," he nods, scooting his chair closer to you, resting the side of his head in his hand like he was getting comfortable to watch you. "I'm sure," he says, answering the question you had in mind, noticing the quizzical look in your eyes.

"Okay, so," you grin, looking at him. "I think it's the angle. It makes the proportions look funny, and it makes my nose look enormous," you playfully scold, earning you a soft laugh from Miguel. "But, you did the eyes well- wait a second, why are my lips so detailed?" you coyly smile, slowly turning to face him.

He doesn't answer. He shrugs, avoiding your gaze.

"Okay, okay, I'll drop it," you say, hiding your smile behind your hair, shielding the side of your face with it.

"Don't hide it," he mumbles, extending a hand, reaching for your hair and brushing it behind your ear. He smiles, noticing the blush form over your cheeks. "Show me how to improve it,"

So you did. You sat close together, inches apart as you made minor adjustments to the sketch, adding shading and highlights as Miguel admired the process, watching the drawing come to life. His eyes dart between you and the finished sketch of you on the page, a sweet, sincere smile spreading across his lips. "Hermosa," (beautiful) he whispers. "I'm gonna frame it."

@sunshiines-stuff @queerponcho @selfryed

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel atsv

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morallyinept · 2 months

Text

Lie To Me - A Javier Peña GIFLET

Uh, Jett, what the heck is a GIFLET?

Just a short 500 words or less drabble, based on inspiration that I got from a GIF. Simples.

Pairing: Javier Peña x GN!Reader (No name, physical description or confirmed sex of reader. It's you, bub.)

Word Count: 500

Scoville Smut Rating: None, you're safe. A lil' angsty, mentions of death.

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

GIFLET MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

This GIFLET was inspired by the below GIF 👇🏻

He kills the ignition outside your apartment.

Kills.

Killer.

That’s what you are now.

This is what it feels like. You look at your hands. They look different. You should have stayed behind a desk.

He was right when he said you weren’t cut out for field work. Your stubbornness got in the way of practicality. He said he wanted to protect you. You said you didn’t need protection.

Fuck, you were so wrong about that.

But he still protected you, his voice bringing you back out of that sinking din. His hands either side of your face yelling at you to breathe, to drop the gun. That you’re okay.

The two of you are sitting there in the dark silence of the car, the orange glow of the lamplight outside casting bleak shadows.

“Are you okay?” It’s soft, his voice has less bite now, less noise.

You shake your head.

“Yeah. Stupid question.” He murmurs. “Shit.”

“Are you alright?” You ask.

“Don’t worry about me.” He says it like it’s easy. It’s anything but.

You look at your hands again and wipe them on your pants even though there’s nothing physically on them. He stops you when you rub a bit too incessantly.

“Hey.” His hand clasps over yours. It’s warm, strangely soft when you could swear they’re calloused and blunt.

“Lie to me.” You say to him.

“Por que?” (What?)

“Lie to me. Tell me it’s gonna be alright.”

Javi looks at you, deep eyes almost as dark as the night outside, lips pursed under the familiar moustache.

He leans back against the headrest letting go of your hand. Eyes glassy and fixed on your own.

“It’s gonna be alright.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Javi.” You shake your head, the tiniest slip of a smile threatening the corners of your mouth, but it never breaks free.

You can’t ever allow yourself to ever be happy again, not after what you did today. You can still smell it, the gun. Still hear it going off in your ears, even now.

You close your eyes, fearing you'll never hear the sound of silence again.

“Try again.” You prompt.

You hear him breathe in and out again quickly, a small puff.

“I’m not in love with you...”

Your head turns to him, his eyes still on you, still protecting you. Failing now.

“I said, lie to me.”

“I can’t, querida. Not after today…” His eyes are glistening now and you can feel yours pricking in the corners.

“I don’t expect anything from you. It’s the wrong time, I know. I just needed you to know.” Javi whispers.

He reaches for your hand again and gives it a squeeze. You squeeze back until your fingers go numb.

You watch him close his eyes, his Adam’s apple somersaulting in his throat as he swallows thickly and sighs out.

“Javi.”

“Mm.”

“I’m not in love with you either.”

He opens his eyes, finding yours in the dark and squeezes your hand again.

“Liar.” He smirks.

🖤

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x gn!reader #javi p #jett's writing #jett's giflets

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scientia-rex · 8 days

Text

I got home from work today sneezing my head off with a right eye that won’t stop watering, took a hot shower, climbed into bed, and I haven’t climbed out since. I’m grumpy and I have a headache and if I’m not testing positive for COVID or debilitated by symptoms tomorrow I’ll still need to go to work because that’s twenty patient visits that would need to be rescheduled, usually with someone else, and that’s twenty people I’m letting down. Today I did one of my patented 45-second Pap smears (if it takes longer than that, your doctor needs to get better!) for someone with vaginal atrophy from menopause (it is both very common and very treatable) and she was in disbelief. (This time it was more like 30 seconds.) I saw a suicidally depressed patient who’s clinging to life with both hands and I changed their meds last week and I am not making them wait to see me. I cleaned a wound no one else gave a shit about and I saw a bitter pissy Republican Party bigwig who has terrible anxiety and depression she doesn’t tell anyone about, who’s alienated everyone but who I can still convince to try treatment.

I do my job on hard mode on purpose. I like being important—who doesn’t? I like being legendary, I like that when people move to town and ask for doctor recommendations on Facebook so many people mention me that other patients feel compelled to tell me about it. I got nominated for best doctor in our local region last year. (I didn’t win, out of 5 nominees.) But when I’m sick, when I’m the kind of sick that can be hidden easily, the kind of sick I was always expected to go to school and rotations and residency with, it’s so hard. I hate exposing patients, even to a cold, but the benefits of receiving care are probably enough to outweigh the chance of transmission. I wrestle with myself: if I call in, it starts a ripple effect. Can they get a per diem from their “pool” (of three) to come in? Can they reschedule my patients with me? I don’t have any open spots for five weeks. Can they open same days? None available for three weeks. Can they open blocked spots? That’s going to make my life hell when I come back from being sick. That’s clinic staff calling twenty patients, trying to reach them. That’s twenty patients who feel abandoned. They can know intellectually that doctors get sick too, but they don’t believe it. They take it personally. I have seen this over and over again, until I had to believe it.

It is so EASY for people who don’t do this job to tell me how I’m doing it wrong. “Just stay home!” Oh, okay, you want to tell the person whose chronic opioids I’m supposed to write for that I can’t? You want to put the nurses through getting the on-call to write a bridge prescription? I write more ADHD meds than most of my peers—usually a lot more. You want to tell my colleagues to write meds they’re uncomfortable with? How about tell my suicidal patients (which is a lot of them!) that the provider they know and trust after months or years will be replaced today by a 70-year-old white man who still thinks they should pull themselves up by their bootstraps? Tell my queer patients that they have to wait until I’m better and back to get their hormones and their STI screenings, reschedule a Pap someone was dreading. Every day is a kaleidoscope of opportunities to make a real connection with “difficult” patients. I’m good at it. I may be the best at it at my clinic.

I don’t hate calling in sick just because the clinic manager is a judgy bitch, though that doesn’t help. I hate it because of what it does to my patients. And it’s not simple. Pretending it is does all of us a disservice. I am not a widget. I am not easily replaceable. You can’t plug any of our per diems (all men, 2/3 white, 2/3 old, 1/3 a Bitcoin bro) into my place and call it an equivalent, and my schedule is already so packed that if I call in sick, patients will be guilt-tripping me about it for months. I’m not kidding. That happens every single time.

Christ alive, I wish it was true that doctors never got sick.

#the attending dr. kristophine

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mcytblr-archive · 1 month

Text

Early MCYTblr Interviews: georgeeehd

today's interviewee is reese/georgeeehd/lmanburg/tommyofcolor! dreamlying member, mcytblr og, and the person who discovered that dream wasn't registered to vote. below is a transcript of questions and answers!

Q: What was your experience in wider MCYTblr?

A: I don’t have much experience with wider mcytblr. Maybe I used to reblog Grian stuff on my main blog, before all this DSMP shit. There wasn’t much of a Dream community when I started posting, much less one for DreamNotFound (surprisingly, Dreamnap was the popular ship of the two early on????? so bizarre to me), so I dug out my microcosm immediately. There was never a wider myctblr for me.

Q: What was your experience in critblr/dreamlying specifically?

A: The notion that dreamlying is the spawn of critblr is interesting to me, because I agree with you now, but I wouldn’t have at the time. Critblr was a tumblr community. Dreamlying was a friend group, predating critblr. I considered myself dteamblr for a really long time— I never felt aligned with the critblr movement because that was always Jason’s territory, really. I don’t mention it to nitpick or to scold, but like, I’m into this archiving thing, too, so I wanted to opine on how we label these groups. Maybe there should be a distinction made between what we considered ourselves vs. what we actually were.

My experience in proto-critblr was pretty cushy because it was all mine. Me and my contemporaries had a following, we were respected, we had smart things to say, we were funny, established, etc. Think, “The School of Athens.” I definitely grew a bit of an ego with how popular I was, which I’m sure will come across in this interview, haha.

At times I felt a little unchallenged, like people were only agreeing with me not because I was right, but because I was saying anything at all. At the same time, I was incredibly defensive and insecure, so the little pushback I might have gotten would bother me terribly. I was probably overreactive and mean. I was fifteen then, and I’m nineteen now, so there’s lots of things I would’ve handled differently, if I could.

In terms of my experience with dreamlying, I like what Ozzie had to say. We were all just very, very good friends. There’s not much else to it. In my first discord server, “dream lying” was a hidden messaging channel where we could critique Dream Team freely. “Dream lying” was supposed to parody the phrase “dream truthing.” So we were basically this tiny little secret society, at the start. There was no way we wouldn’t have hit it off.

Q: Are there any events that stand out to you?

A: A lot. Too many. Some are more personally relevant than historically relevant, and I don’t really know where to draw the line. The voter registration fiasco was a big one, but there were other smaller things… I was always in some fuckin’ controversy or another! The magic 8 ball says, Ask again later.

Q: Was being in MCYTblr an overall positive or negative experience for you?

A: Undoubtedly positive! I don’t even know where to start with this question. I met a lot of wonderful people that I still keep in contact with today, right? But beyond that, I feel like being in this community helped me grow a lot, like, personally. I was thinking and writing a lot. I learned so, so much, about people, about the internet, about fandom, about myself. It was such an expansive experience.

I guess I should mention that my time with mcytblr was incredibly stressful. My involvement in the fandom weighed heavily on my mental health. I felt very watched, and I still do. At my worst, I was hospitalized. (I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t mention my mcyt-induced mental hospital stint in my mcyt interview.) None of that really moves me, though, ‘cause it was all just part of the experience, and I find it all pretty funny, looking back.

Q: A few people have mentioned the account mcyttruth in relation to you, specifically around a callout post. What happened there? [I had misremembered-- I meant to ask this to Jason lmanburg, not Reese lmanburg.]

A: The mcyttruth callout wasn’t about me, but my discord server, dteamblr 2. I was not as involved here— at this point, critblr was in full bloom, and this server was like a rendezvous for people who liked dreamlying and modcord blogs (modcord was another friend group, like dreamlying, but critblr-based).

Regarding that callout specifically, I don’t know. Probably, there were too many r-slurs, too many jokes about hating Ranboo, the usual. There were a lot of callouts (for me or for people I was friends with), and I never really took them seriously. I mean, honestly, the url “mcyttruth” alone is derivative. Do you know how many times I’ve read the words “mcyt” and “truth”? Everything about this is a blur to me.

Q: I suppose I would ask-- given the current events surrounding many of the creators who were popular in 2020/2021, do you feel that dreamlying has been vindicated in their criticisms of creators?

A: Yes, but I would have said yes in 2020, because who these people are was as obvious to me then as it is now. Our criticisms weren’t like, headcanons that we made up to be mean, they were plain old observations. Wilbur was openly mentally ill, creepy, and generally dismissive of other people. Not to say that there aren’t good things about him either, but, of course this is the kind of guy to make his girlfriend clean up after him. There’s a million cautionary tales about guitar stringers with floppy hair under a beanie, whiny song lyrics, and a masturbatory approach to self-loathing.

Dream’s not this person anymore, so that’s not why I bring it up, but think back to when his old Reddit account was exposed for being active on r/The_Donald. That was everything we were ever talking about! That was Dream being exactly who he was— a young white man from Florida. I love Dream, always have, always will. Acknowledging that he is/was a whole person with flaws and unsavory politics, I think, is truer fanhood than the idolization everyone puts him through.

You use the word “vindicated” to acknowledge that we were heavily criticized ourselves. Most of that was on the basis of privacy— you know, whether or not it’s okay to speculate on people’s personal lives. It doesn’t matter that we were “right” so often, that we still are, and always will be, because people will focus more on the original sin of having speculated in the first place.

I used to love vindication because it made me feel smart, like I could see things that no one else could. Now it just makes me sad. I don’t think it has anything to do with smarts, nor would I care if it did. I think people just don’t let themselves think that far. You know, “I don’t want to make assumptions,” “It’s none of my business,” “It’s not that deep,” etc. Maybe there’s no instinct to look deeper at all. It really just makes me sad.

Q: Is there anything else you'd like to add/have archived?

A: I’d like to ask everybody to stay critical. The hivemind response to recent events have shown me that this fandom remains as shallow, unthinking, conformative, elementary… as it was four years ago.

Thank you for conducting these interviews in the first place. It's nice hearing everyone’s voices again.

#early mcytblr interviews #Volume 13 #georgeeehd

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sunnyie-eve · 7 months

Text

2 | Proud of You

Series: Significant

Paring: Colby Brock x Original female character

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.6k

| MASTERLIST |

"Sam! Sam! Sam!" Penelope rushes down her stairs since he was over at her house getting a snack in the kitchen at the moment.

"What?" He freaks out as she rushes in.

"So I've been keeping a secret from you and Colby but I can now tell you because I made it through the prosses and shit. Look!" She shows him her phone which was on an Instagram modeling account.

"Glad to announce our beautiful newest model to the family, Penelope Lane Hill." Sam reads the caption then looks at her, "Wait? What?" He makes her laugh.

"Yeah, umm last few months when I've said I was too busy. This lady reached out to me so I took her offer. Actually modeling kind of helps me with how I see myself." She lets him know.

"I can't believe this... Congratulations, Pen!" He hugs her then looks back at her phone, "That's a really good pic of you. You surprisingly pull off blue lipstick." He hands her phone back. "Also today is a filming day." He lets her know.

"And I still have to go?" She pouts.

"Yep." He takes her hand dragging her out of her house to the car.

When they get to the house Colby was outside waiting for them with his arms crossed, "You're late."

"How can we be late if there was no set time? Also, I have some news to share." She hands him her phone and her looks over it before looking at her.

"No fucking why! My bestie is a model now! Look at you!" He squeezes her picking her up a bit. "I'm so proud of you!" He lets go of her.

"Thank you. I told Sam it helps me a bit feel better." She smiles.

"Are there any others we can see?" He asks as they go inside.

"Yeah, I'll post them to my Instagram later."

"Ok, are you gonna hang alone or watch us?" He asks her. "We're doing dares people sent us on Twitter."

"Maybe both. Depends." She laughs taking a seat.

"Okay." They leave her alone just to see one dare say to have her take part in one video. "PENNY!" They yell for her so she comes in huffing what.

"Our first date is to have you be in one full video." Sam shows her the tweet.

"It's dares for Sam and Colby. Not Sam and Colby and Penelope."

"Come on." Colby pulls her into the frame.

"Fine. I'll do it." She makes them cheer and the first dare was to put ice in their front pants pockets.

"We're just gonna keep it here the whole entire video. Oh! It's already cold!" Colby complains.

"This is easy for me." Penelope laughs at them.

"Of course it is." Colby playfully glares at her.

The next dare was a one-handed handstand and the guys couldn't do it but Penelope did it for a few seconds. "How?" Sam asks surprised.

"She was in gymnastics from four to seventeen." Colby answers for her.

"Yeah, I hated it but my mom wanted me to be like Harper." Penelope tells the camera. "Luckily, she stopped taking me one day." She winks.

"I dare you guys to eat a tablespoon of mustard with ketchup." Sam reads the next one making Penelope make a face shaking her head no.

"Penelope will not do this one. Even if it was for all the money in the world. She hates mustard with a passion." Colby says leaving to go get the things while she stays with Sam.

"Why do you hate it so much?"

"Because it's terrible. I'd rather kiss a snake than eat mustard." She says making him crack up.

"You're terrified of snakes though."

"Exactly!" She laughs with him as Colby comes back.

She watches the two and wants to puke just imagining it as they do it. They both make noises at how disgusting it was.

"Want a kiss? I think I got some on my lips." Colby jokes with Penelope and it wasn't odd for them to joke like that.

"Eww and EWW!" She moves Sam closer to him.

"I dare y'all to switch shirts in under 20 seconds." Sam reads the next one.

Penelope didn't care since she was in a sports bra so she took Colby's shirt, Sam took her shirt, and Colby took Sam's shirt.

"That was easy and this shirt is so soft on the inside." Sam says touching her shirt.

"I know, right. I love that shirt. You're mom actually bought it for me." She tells him.

"Really?" He says surprised.

"Yeah, birthday gift." She laughs.

While the guys wall twerk for a minute, Penelope keeps track of the time for them. "Colby, I love that you peed yourself." Penelope laughs at him and he sees how the ice melted.

"Is y'all's not cold yet?" Colby asks them and they say it's cold for them.

For the next dare, Penelope gets her lipstick out of her bag for the dare, "I'm gonna need to get a new one now." She watches Sam ruin it a bit.

"It's fine. Here put it on me." Sam hands it to her so she does it to him almost perfectly till Colby nudges her arm on purpose.

"You ass." She glares at him.

"Okay, now let me put it on you." He turns her to face him.

"I'm gonna look like a clown." She tilts her head up a tad.

"Pucker your lips so I can do this."

"You don't pucker your lips to put on lipstick." They both bicker so she stops for him to just do it and she ends up having a long line on her bottom lip. "I can't." She wipes it off so she doesn't look stupid.

Colby and Sam look at each other as if they could communicate with their minds so they grab her both kissing her cheeks so their lipstick was on her face.

She just stands there shaking her head annoyed with them, "I quit." She laughs leaving the room.

"Keep that on till we're done!" They shout at her.

"Whatever!" She shouts back.

Sitting around on her phone messages a friend of hers the boys tell her there's a dare to slap Colby in the face with hot sauce. "I'm not excited for this." Colby groans heading outside and Penelope follows wanting to watch.

"Just be careful with it going in his ear." She tells Sam as he sets the camera up.

"I can't help where it goes."

"You sorta can since you're slapping him." She laughs.

"Why can't we see your ice cubes melting? Did you take them out?" Colby touches where her pockets are and can feel the cold melted water. "How is that not bugging you?"

"Sometimes I take super cold baths when I don't take super hot ones." She explains to him.

"Alright, guys. What's up? We're out here. You got about to be slapped with some hot sauce." Sam claps his hands.

"I'm not excited for this." Colby says again, "I'm gonna take off my beanie. Here, hold this for me." He puts it on Penelope's head.

"What am I a coat rack?" She giggles.

"A beautiful coat rack." He pats the top of her head.

"It's in my ear! She even said to be careful." Colby complains.

"Sam, you barely even slapped him in the face. That was all ear." Penelope pulls Colby's head towards her to see how bad it was.

"Why is it burning?!" He walks away.

"Come on. I'll help you clean it." Penelope helps him take off Sam's long sleeves and holds it by his ear so it doesn't get on the carpet as they walk to the sink. "This is gonna be difficult not to wash it down in there more." She huffs.

"You always clean us up after stupid shit so you got this. You're the mom of the group." Colby laughs as she carefully cleans his ear up.

"I'm the mom yet you two ignore me?" She tugs on his hair.

"Exactly. Plus you're still younger than us."

"You're two months older than me so shut up." She finishes up.

"What would I do without you?" He stands up smiling at her.

"Clean the hot sauce out of your own ear for starters." She smiles back, "I texted Harper to come pick me up so she should be here soon. I have to meet with some people tomorrow so." She lets him know.

"I still can't believe you're a model now. I'm happy that it helps you. You needed this because me telling you isn't enough apparently."

"It's just nice hearing from people who don't know me personally saying it. Trust me, it means a lot coming from you. It shows you care about me but still." She explains to him as her sister honks for her. "I would give you your shirt back but Sam is still wearing mine." She looks down at herself.

"It's fine. It's not the first one you've taken and never gave back. But this I want still." He takes his beanie back.

"I didn't want it in the first place." She shoves him as she leaves the room, "Bye Sam!"

Jumping in her sister's car, Harper has Taylor Swift blaring making Penelope laugh. "Sing it with me, baby sis!" Harper starts to drive.

This was the very first page Not where the story line ends My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

#sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #katrina stuart #jake webber #corey scherer #elton castee #tara yummy #colby brock imagine #colby brock ff #colby brock fanfic #best friend #friends to lovers #tfil

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misscongeniality18 · 11 months

Note

Okay I have some thoughts for a Peter x reader fic. Peter and reader are officially dating and the reader begins to notice that Peter does kind and thoughtful things that none of her previous romantic partners had done before. Like, Peter buys medicine on the way home and makes soup for the reader when she’s sick, does all the house chores when she’s extra tired, and remembers the little things she says about a book she wanted to read or movie she wanted to go see. One day, the reader’s talking to Peter on the phone on her way home and she tells how she’s had a terrible day and feeling down. When she arrives, Peter cooked her favorite and put on her favorite series to make her feel better. Reader starts to tear up and Peter thinks he did something wrong, but reader tells him that it’s just no other guy had loved and cared for her as much he does, and how lucky she is to have him in her life

This! Ugh, perfection, because we all know Peter would 100% do this. (I'm also so sorry that it took me so long to get this out, Memorial Day weekend was my only time where I didn't have to do anything, so I took the opportunity to rest my mind before I start summer classes. You're amazing, I love you. <;3)

I Do - Peter Sutherland

Synopsis ! Peter knows finds out you've had a hard day, so he decides to make you feel better. Pairing ! Peter Sutherland x fem!reader Genre ! Tooth-rotting fluff Warnings ! language, depression, kissing, Peter being such a good boyfriend if that counts, I also made this way too cheesy Word Count - 1079

" Never understood why People always say, love chooses you Now I do Now I do " - I Do, Aloe Blacc & LeAnn Rhimes

Masterlist Request Guide

As you slid into your car, the tightness in your chest didn’t leave. Your job was stressful, to say the least, and it didn’t help that your boss was a first-class demon from hell, not to mention a total bitch. She asks you to come in on your days off and stay at least an hour after your shift is supposed to end without being paid overtime, and while on that subject, you were severely underpaid. You were practically doing your boss’s job for her because she spends ninety-percent of her time scrolling on her phone.

With your hands on the steering wheel, you rest your head against the cool leather, trying to catch your breath. Today had been particularly difficult. You had your own shit to do, but you couldn’t do it because you were taking over your boss’s workload, and when she found out that you didn’t get your own work done, she blew up at you, practically calling you worthless.

Before you pulled out of the parking lot, you called the only person who could make you feel better—your boyfriend.

Peter’s voice came from the car’s speakers, filling the small space with your favorite sound in the world. “Hey, babe, you on your way home?”

You could already feel the tension begin to melt from your shoulders at his clear, upbeat tone. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“What’s wrong?”

Damn, he could hear how stressed and exhausted you were.

“It’s been, uh, it’s been a hard day,” you said, trying to hold in your tears.

“Oh, babe, I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, so I won’t ask.”

Peter knew you so well, it made you want to cry. You still refused to, though. “I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“I’ll be here. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hung up, and it took everything within you not to speed.

Peter was an angel from above. He was kind and thoughtful and attentive and loving, unlike your past partners, and he would do things just to make you happy. One time, Peter remembered how you wanted to see the movie adaptation of one of your favorite books, so he surprised you with tickets. You thanked him with endless kisses.

He also takes care of you even when you can’t. Last week, when you dared to be sick, Peter picked up medicine on the way home from work and made you chicken soup because you couldn’t keep anything else down. And during that time, he even cleaned up the apartment because you didn’t have time to do your regular chores.

In your mind, Peter was perfect.

You arrived at the apartment, and your feet felt so heavy that you worried you wouldn’t make it down the hallway. When you opened your door, the smell of garlic and bacon and absolute heaven greeted you. “Peter?” You called out, peeking your head around the corner to the kitchen.

There Peter stood, spoon in hand, stirring something on the stove. He turned when he heard your voice, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. “Hey! I made your favorite for dinner; carbonara. Well,” he sighed. “I tried. It’s not going to be like Mariano’s, but it’ll be close.”

You blinked up at him when he mentioned your favorite Italian restaurant located just down the street, a place you could eat at for every meal.

Peter saw the expression on your face, and he quickly put the spoon down and rushed to the television. “I thought we could watch Bridgerton, too! I know how you love that show, and with the new season coming out later this year, I thought…”

He trailed off as he noticed the tears welling up in your eyes, a few streaking down your cheeks.

“Oh, babe, what is it? What did I do wrong?” Peter asked, panic in his voice, and he strode over to you, placing his hands on your cheeks and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “Baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I wanted you to feel better, and I thought I’d make your favorite dinner and put on your favorite show—“

“Peter,” you interrupted him, putting your hands over his and holding them to your chest. “You are making me feel better. Even if you didn’t do all this, you still would. With everything going on at work, you are my only stress reliever. You did everything right. You always do.”

You closed your eyes, the feel of his skin against yours calming and cool. Pressing a kiss to his palm, you whispered, “God, I don’t deserve you.”

“Hey,” Peter murmured, swooping down to wrap his arms around you, his face level with yours. “Do you trust me?”

Sputtering in confusion, you nodded. “Wha-what does—Yes, I do.”

“Then trust me when I say that you deserve everything. You are everything. You are on my mind when I’m awake and when I’m dreaming; you are my everything, and I love you.”

You met his eyes, seeing the sincerity and love within the depths of them, and you couldn’t believe how you had managed to find each other. “I love you, too,” you whispered.

His lips pressed to yours, soft and sweet and soothing. When Peter kissed you, it was as if the world faded away, and you existed only in this moment.

You drew him closer, pressing your body to his, one hand moving to the back of his neck, and then your stomach started to growl. Peter pulled away, chuckling and grinning that wide, toothy grin that always made your heart flutter. “Sorry,” you mumbled.

Peter shook his head. “We have time for that later. You’re hungry, so we’ll eat. Here, come taste my attempt at cooking.”

Leading you by the hand to the stove, Peter pulled out a fork and twirled some noodles for you to take a bite. You moaned as you chewed, nodding in approval.

“You like it?”

“I do,” you replied, mouth full.

Hearing those two words made Peter’s heart skip, and he leaned forward, kissing your cheek still full with food. He enjoyed those words not only because they told him he did a good job at cooking, but because he knew you would be saying them at an altar one day with him in front of you.

The only thing left was to get the ring out of his bedside table and ask you.

Tonight.

#peter sutherland #the night agent #peter sutherland fanfic #peter sutherland x reader #peter sutherland x you #gabriel basso #fanfiction #fanfic

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sugarcherriess · 1 year

Note

Congrats for the 1k! Can I req?

1. Sunwoo - enemies to lovers (fluff+smut)

2. Chanhee - strangers to lovers (fluff)

Thank you friend! I covered the Chanhee request here because this post wouldn’t work properly beyond Sunwoo’s hc’s 🥲

Enemies to Lovers with Sunwoo:

cw - fluff, smut, body worship, Sunwoo’s like a middle schooler, i do NAWT support the “if he bullies you he prob likes you” thing people try to say sometimes but for the sake of the plot lets just consider it a healthy opinion to have 😮‍💨, Sunwoo is bad w feelings </3

I 100 percent believe that if Sunwoo has any type of animosity with someone then this dude just goes quiet

Like he’s not going to verbally annoy or attack you

Mans is just gonna pretend you don’t exist

And he doesn’t even explain why he doesn’t like you to anybody

None of the boys know and you don’t either

But his constant avoidance of you made you hate him too

Like who does he think he is?

You and the guys often have dinner together at one of your’s apartments just to catch up for the week

Or weeks if its been too long

And Sunwoo always manages to sit where you can’t even exist in his peripheral vision

This time it’s Younghoon’s apartment you’ve gathered at

And he’s ordered pizza

But the pizza you want is on Sunwoo’s side of the coffee table

And you roll your eyes

You’ve had an ass day as it is

Getting late in the morning, missing an important deadline, burning your favourite shirt, the coffee running out on you

Anything that could go wrong today went wrong

And talking to Sunwoo was the last think you were looking forward to

But you still try to be civil

“Sunwoo can you please pass me the slice,”

And yet he pretends not to listen.

“Sunwoo?”

His face turns slightly in your direction

“Pass me the pizza,”

He already has a slice in his hands

But he maintains eye contact while he grabs the slice you asked for

(the very last one)

And and then eats it in record time

You’re stunned and annoyed but you can’t really do much besides huff and sit back

Haknyeon offers you his slice though

At which Sunwoo rolls his eyes

And get knee’d in the thigh by Eric

The night progresses and you guys start a spontaneous karaoke session

And it’s you and Changmin up in front of the TV going all out on After Like

The dive jumped out of the depths of both your souls

Coincidentally, Sunwoo’s sitting on the couch right behind you

His eyes on your ass but he’s not going to be confessing to that accusation in the event that anybody catches him

When you and your temporary dance partner finish with a bow to your makeshift audience

The boys go all out on the applause

While Sunwoo’s sat there looking like the grim reaper

“You look like you’re rotting from the inside out,”

That’s your first mistake.

Your second mistake is thinking Sunwoo wouldn’t say anything back

“Kind of happens when I have to look at you flail around like a dying crab for five minutes,”

Any other day you would’ve rolled your eyes and let it go

But again. You’ve had a terrible day and you’re too irritated to let him treat you like shit

“What the fuck is your problem with me?”

“Your existence is a curse on me,”

It’s supposed to be a joke

A shit joke but a joke nonetheless

And Sunwoo thinks you’ll take it like one

You know. Like he intended.

You don’t

You pick up the cushion nearest to you and throw it at his face

“You’re a horrible person,”

The others watch in horror as the situation escalates quicker than they can control it

Just as Sunwoo realises that he hit a nerve and that those are tears in your eyes

You burst out the door

You run out the building without any concern for the rain that’s pounding outside

And the fact that you’re wearing sweats and a tshirt that won’t save you from the cold

Sunwoo figures out that he’s actually crossed a limit and runs after you

“Why won’t you leave me alone?! Stop following me!”

You would manage to scream at him through your tears and the clouds pouring down

“It was supposed to be a joke I promise!”

“Fuck you!”

Let me remind you that this is you two on the side walk while everyone else rushes to get under shelter

Sunwoo would run a little faster and catch up to you

A true kdrama moment happens when he grabs your arm and turns you around– the torque making you spin right into his arms

“I didn’t mean it,”

Both of you are breathless with you still hiccuping through your sobs

“You always treat me like shit! I don’t even know what I did!”

You’d try to push him away but he’d only pull you back harder.

“I know. I know and I’m– I’m sorry,”

You’d try to wipe your face and look at him with all the seriousness you could muster

“Why do you hate me so much,”

“I don’t hate you,” he’d laugh, annoying you even more.

“Then why are you such a dick to me?”

“Because I–“

He says something but you can’t hear because thunder strikes at the very moment.

“What?”

Sunwoo would say it again but the thunder would overpower his voice once more

“I can’t understand a word-“

“I said I love you!”

He screamed because he thought that the thunder would cut him off again BUT!!! IT DOESNT!!! SO BOTH OF YOU AND A FEW BYSTANDERS STARE IN SHOCK!!!!

But Sunwoo would sigh and start explaining himself

“I’m just. Bad with feelings okay. I didn’t know how to be nice to you without exposing my feelings so I just. Did whatever I had to do to make you run away from me– I’m. Sorry,”

He’d cup your face with both hands,

“I really am,”

Kissing a dude you considered your mortal enemy under the rain was not in your 2022 bucket list but would you look at how the earth moves

Kissing him even harder in the comfort of your room was an even more far fetched thought

But you know what you did think about a lot?

Kim Sunwoo taking his time undressing you

Him being the epitome of patience as he kisses down your neck, your chest, scatters them on your belly,

All the way down to the “hidden treasure” between your thighs > his words not mine

He sits on his knees before your alter and worships your body for hours upon end

All the way into the morning when the sky stops pouring outside and the sun peaks out

The way his head has been peaking out between your thighs all night

He would kiss and nip all the dips and curves your body shows him

His thick warm lips wrap around your nipples and his slick tongue plays with them until they turn sore

He toys with them until your body aches for his cock

And then he would turn you onto your front

Palm laying flat at the middle of your back and pushing you down on the mattress

Just for him to slide inside and give you what you begged him for

His hands would busy themselves soothing out any stiff muscles he can find

While his dick pushes your insides open to fit his girth

He’d change like a billion positions to find the spot that makes you crumble in his arms again and again

And it would just be the start of his apologies for treating you horribly because of his terrible emotion handling skills

Making love to you like a devoted husband?

Fucking you like his personal whore?

He would do it all just to prove that he can please you however you want

You just have to say yes

Which you do eventually

While riding him in the early morning to give his back a break 🫶🏼

#˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Adonis Speaks #the boyz smut #sunwoo smut #the boyz hard hours #sunwoo hard hours #kim sunwoo #the boyz scenarios #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo headcanons #tbz smut #tbz scenarios #tbz hard hours #tbz imagines

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kopykunoichi · 1 year

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Omega has lost so much over this last year.

She lost Nala Se...which was sort of glossed over in her excitement to be with her new bros, but still, that was the only "mother" she knew. And if anyone doubts how important that relationship was to her, just look at how fast she gravitates toward literally *any* female to fill that role.

She lost one brother right off. Yeah, sure, he was the surly, nasty one - but the way he initially was separated from them was not his choice.

She lost Kamino, the only home she had ever known, and as she made clear last week, she is *angry* about it.

Then, she lost Crosshair again, but in a very different way. This time, when they finally had a chance to be a whole family again with every member confirmed to be de-chipped, he chose to leave them. We heard her bitterly tell him "I was wrong about you", but she still felt terrible walking away from him.

And then the unthinkable happened. Echo also chose to leave. Echo, who is probably closer to her than any other brother except Hunter. Echo, who is the emotional anchor of the group, despite being the newest adult member. Echo, who always knows what to say to make her feel better. Echo, who is the most like her in personality - always ready to help someone in need, risk be damned. Like Crosshair, he chose to leave them...to leave her. And though his reasons are noble and selfless, it still hurts. It still feels like rejection.

And today she lost the Marauder, which isn't just a ship, it's a home. Lulu and her little trooper doll were on that ship. Gonky was on that ship. Her first bedroom with the little hanging rope lights that Wrecker decorated for her was on that ship. Echo's blanket that still smells like him was on that ship.

Every time she tries to steady herself, the rug is getting pulled out from under her. And when Tech asked her "what is your issue?" it made her feel like she was the only one struggling with it and it was wrong for her to feel that way. While I'm glad that they talked and that he admitted he still felt something about it, even though he can't express it very well...let's be honest, none of them are expressing their feelings well.

Hunter tells Tech to fix the mistake he made (in how he spoke to Omega), but I wonder if he was projecting a little. Echo left in the first place because Hunter wouldn't quit working for Cid - who clearly doesn't give a shit about them. And now their team is in shambles without him and I wonder if Hunter is questioning his choices. Echo stayed with Rex, but they could have too, it's not like Rex would have turned down the help. I know Hunter wants to keep Omega safe, but give me a break, she was safer in the Senate chamber spitting distance from Palpatine himself than she has been on any given mission they have taken for Cid, with all her sketchy jobs and spotty intel. Now with Cross *and* Echo gone, they are not nearly as formidable or effective. They're stretched thin, and that just makes their missions all the more dangerous.

Honestly, I don't want Echo to come back. I want them to go to *him*. Make some connections with Organa and Riyo, and Ahsoka as Fulcrum (when she comes back to fight). Go look for rebel base locations...on Hoth...whoever finds it first can name it. Go set up supply caches all over the galaxy and steal weapons and supplies from Imperial depots to stock them. Go recruit some new people, especially since Omega's enthusiasm and Echo's conviction is so contagious. Go help Cham and Hera with the Free Ryloth Movement by delivering supplies to them. Keep doing all the flavor of the week missions (I love those), but just do them for a reason that makes sense.

#the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #tbb omega #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb tech #tbb echo #captain rex #nala se #tbb crosshair #cid scaleback

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ravenn-darkholme · 2 months

Text

Permanent Price chapter 3

Alex Summers x Mutant!OC

Summary: Isabella Darkholme, sister of raven Darkholme and Charles Xavier. Also a mutant. Her mutation allows her to blend in with the light rays, turning herself and whatever she's touching invisible.

word count: 3149

warnings: none that I know of

series masterlist

They pulled up to Agent Koenigs's facility with a new addition to their little mutant group. Charles introduced him to raven, his name was Erik Lehnsherr. His mutation was that he could control metal. It was an amazing mutation. Bella was astonished. Mutants really are amazing.

"Welcome to my facility. My mission has been to investigate the application of paranormal powers in military defense." Koenig said.

"Or offense." Erik cut in. Isabella didn't need to be like Charles to know Erik was only here to kill Shaw, he really wanted to get this over with.

"This guy Shaw, Schmidt, whatever you want to call him, he's working with the Russians. We might need your help to stop him."

Bella tuned them out grabbing her sister's hand securely. They may have been adults but bella had terrible anxiety. Ever since she was a child, she could barely go out in public. She missed that motherly figure in her life to tell her it would be okay. Raven and Charles were there for her of course, but she dreamed of having a mother, or even just a parent. So whenever she was near lots of people or just in public, she would stick close to her sister. Raven sometimes acted as a mother, even though they were the same age, she was just very maternal and loving.

"So we're to be the CIA's new mutant division, yes?" Charles asked keeping his sisters in his eye line making sure Belle was okay. He knew how bad it could get, sometimes he would calm her with his mutation, but thankfully he didn't need to do that today.

"Something like that," Koenig said. It made bella feel uneasy. What else would they be doing? Are they keeping them, prisoners? The thoughts getting to her head made her breathing shaky. Raven could tell her sister was feeling anxious and put her arm around her and kissed the side of her head whilst muttering "It's okay. I'm here, you don't need to feel like this." Surprisingly it made her feel better, just knowing her sister was there gave her a feeling of warmth.

The mutants followed the agents further into the building until they were beneath a huge jet, attached to the ceiling by thin wires. that didn't look safe.

"It's uh supersonic." A man said who seemed to be working nearby. Everyone looked up at the jet in awe.

"Hank, these are the special new recruits I was telling you about." - He nodded towards the group. - "This is Hank McCoy, one of our most talented young researchers."

"How wonderful. Another mutant, already here." Charles said stepping closer to the man and shaking his hand. This made Isabella happy. There really were mutants in plain sight, hopefully, one day it would be normal for mutants to be around and not having to hide - as raven does.

"Why didn't you say?" Charles asked Koenig.

"Say what?" He replied with a confused tone.

"Because you don't know. I am so, so terribly sorry." Shit Charles. Isabella looked at him with a sorrowful look. He seemed like a nice guy, yet here he was being outed by Charles.

"Hank?" Koenig asked with what seemed to be an amazed expression - let's hope it was that anyway.

"You didn't ask, so I didn't tell," Hank said looking down.

"So, your mutation is what?" Raven asked stepping forwards, still holding onto her sister's hand. "you're super-smart?" she teased.

"I'll say. Hank here graduated Harvard at the age of 15." Charles spoke up.

"I wish that's all it was." Hank shyly told.

"You're in the company of friends now, Hank," Isabella said to the newly announced mutant. She wanted him to feel safe around them. She knew how it was to be shy and how it can take a toll on your social status.

"You can show off," Charles added. Hank stepped back and started to take his shoes and socks off. Bella wondered what his mutation was.

"Splendid," Charles said after seeing his feet. He had hands for feet. Truly amazing how a mutation can change something.

"I'm sorry," Hank muttered as he moved around the group taking a big leap and jumping upside down, and holding onto the jet with his feet.

"Amazing," Isabella said with a smile to the man who shyly smiled at her sister.

⋆✩⋆

Isabella couldn't help the smile that came over her face as she sat across from her sister. After they met hank they all went their separate ways. Isabella just strolled around the building invisibly so she didn't get stares or didn't have to smile and talk to people. It did make her sound like a resentful bitch, but she couldn't care less. Currently, the two were sitting in their shared bedroom that was in the facility. At first, Bella wanted a room by herself so she didn't make raven feel like her carer, but raven loved being with her sister. Nothing could break them apart. Bella reading a book, and Raven flipping through a magazine, while music played softly in the background.

"What?" Raven asked once she saw that her sister was smiling at her.

"Nothing." Isabella shrugged before she went back to her book.

"Belle." Raven pushed as she knew she was lying. She just wanted to know what Bella was smiling at her for.

"You and beast-boy huh?" belle teased as a smirk replaced her smile,

"Beast-boy?" Raven questioned with a whine.

"Yeah cuz' his feet are what you'd imagine a beast to have like in the story Mom told us." Raven smiled at the mention of their late mother. She had died when they were roughly eight years old. All they had to remember her by was the necklace Isabella wore. Bella went on and on for raven to keep it, but raven knew how belle needed things like that to keep her close to family when things got too much for her. Sometimes when she was young and her mother kissed her goodbye to school she swore not to wash that cheek until she saw her mother again. That's how bad it was.

"Do you miss her?"

"Yeah, but I know she would be proud of us. For sticking to what's right." Isabella said fiddling with her necklace. The only time she took it off was when she showered so it didn't get rusty. Raven had their mom's ring on her right-hand ring finger.

"If mom didn't die, do you think things would have been different?" Raven questioned quietly.

"Like what?"

"Like maybe we wouldn't have been as close, we wouldn't have met Charles. Maybe our mutations got out of control and we expose ourselves and make everything worse-" Raven rambled on.

"Let's not think about what could have happened yeah? Let's be glad we're here now, safe doing things we didn't know we could. I miss Mom, but I'm glad she's at peace now." Isabella said before smiling at her sister.

"So. back to you and beast-boy" Bella laughed as she saw her sister face plant the pillow.

⋆✩⋆

Isabella was in astonishment as she followed after Raven and Erik into what Hank presented to them as Cerebro.

"Okay, so, uh, the electrodes connect Charles to the transmitter on the roof. When he picks up a mutant, his brain sends a signal through a relay, and then the coordinates of their location are printed out here." Hank explained his invention. Isabella stood with her brother as they looked over the piece that he would have to place on his head, while Raven and Erik stood with Hank beside the controls. She couldn't help but feel a little anxiety about what they were to be doing but she pushed it aside as she watched Charles place the helmet on.

"What an adorable lab rat you make, Charles." Erik teased as the woman switched places with Erik and stood next to her sister. Bella felt glad Erik was warming up to them and agreed to stay with them. When they first found Erik he was incredibly closed off. It had only been a day but he was opening up more and more. Bella and Erik both had the same goal at the end of the day. Kill and find Shaw. Something they bonded over. It may have been out of character for Bella to be so violent, but if Shaw was actively hurting and threatening people, including her family, she wanted him gone.

"Don't spoil this for me, Erik." Charles shot back as he got relaxed in the chair.

"Oh. I've been a lab rat.

I know one when I see one." Erik admitted.

"Are you sure we can't shave your head?" Hank asked Charles as he made sure the helmet was on accurately.

"Don't touch my hair," Charles said instantly, displeased with hanks offer. Hank just nodded before he went back to the control panel. Turning on the machine and flipping all the needed switches. Isabella waited in suspense as the room seemed to get darker and the lights of the machine seemed to be the only things illuminating the room. Charles grunted in pain as he grasped the railing that seemed to surround him. Bella grabbed her sister's hand as they waited in anticipation.

"It's working." Hank declared to the other mutants as they observed Charles. Bella couldn't help but smile as she watched her brother chuckle in amazement at what he was seeing.

⋆✩⋆

Isabella sat on Charles's bed as she watched him pack a small bag. He and Erik would be traveling to recruit some of the mutants that Charles had found while in Cerebro. Her plan would be to beg Charles to let her go with them. She was bored of staying in the facility, which was not like her. Normally she would stay in her room listening to music, reading, and wouldn't come out. But something was drawing her away. Like a magnet in her stomach pulling her somewhere and she needed to follow it.

"Are you sure I can't join the two of you?" She asked.

"The new recruits will need friendly faces to greet them - preferably other mutants - when they arrive," Charles explained to his younger sister. He wouldn't have minded if Bella just joined the two of them. Making sure she was ok and safe. Of course, she would be fine at the facility, especially with Raven, but he worried for her and knew how she got.

"And you, my dear sister, have one of the friendliest faces I have ever seen," Charles added as she stopped next to the woman and put his arm around her shoulder. She missed moments like this, they hadn't had one in a while.

"He isn't wrong. bella" A new voice joined them from the doorway. Isabella turned her head and saw that it was Raven, walking through the door.

"This won't work you know.." Bella rolled her eyes as she pulled Charles' arm away from her.

"What won't work?" Raven smiled as she walked closer to her siblings.

"She is right. Isabella is way too stubborn to let this go." Her brother laughed.

"I was just hoping to get out of this stupid government building," Bella said, shocking her siblings.

"Really? Normally you would stay and curl up in your room. Your not the type to go out specifically to see people." Her sister really did know her all too well.

"I don't know. I think I wanna just get out. All the government agents creep me out and I think I need to learn to be around people more, this might help." It wasn't a complete lie, but if she said the real reason Charles would immediately shut her down and probably laugh and tell her she needed rest. She saw her brother have a look of contemplation on his face before he opened his mouth and agreed for her to tag along. She squealed with excitement. Maybe Charles wasn't so protective anymore, maybe he was finally letting her have her own life.

"Okay well have fun for me. Good luck meeting new people bella." Raven said hugging her sister. It might've seemed childish, but Isabella really did have a hard time near people. She'd gotten better recently though, and raven was proud of her sister.

⋆✩⋆

Isabella was delighted that Charles had agreed for her to come search for the mutants

As Bella sat in the car waiting for Charles, she found herself wondering what the real reason was for her desire to go with Charles and Erik. The pretend magnet in her stomach got more and more intense the more they searched for other mutants. With no answer from the universe she was hoping for, Isabella decided to get out of the car and find Charles, erik, and the mutant they were there for. When they pulled up to the strip club, Charles forced Isabella to stay in the car. His protective side revealing which was really starting to irritate Bella.

The invisible mutant phased through the doors of the club. She then phased through a few private areas, before finally coming upon the one Charles and erik were in. She saw the beautiful girl before her eyes and smiled once she saw the captivating wing that protruded through her back.

"Badass." Bella said, making herself visible. Clearly captivated by the girl and her wings. Charles sighed at his little sister whilst Erik and the girl-Angel- smirked at Isabella.

"How would you like a job where you get to keep your clothes on?" He said to the mutant as she wafted in the air, her wings fluttering around her.

Once they sent Angel to the CIA facility, the next mutant they were to recruit, was a taxi driver named Darwin.

"Where to?" Darwin asked the three, sending a charming smile to Isabella.

"Richmond, Virginia, please." She told the man before Charles could interrupt her.

"Right, so, you want the airport? The station? What?" Darwin chuckled.

"No, we were rather hoping you would take us all the way." She smiled.

"That's a six-hour drive."

"That will give us plenty of time to talk," Erik smirked before shutting the fare meter, making Darwin look back in surprise.

Now they were in a prison to see another mutant - of course. Isabella wasn't sure about this one, since he was in prison. As they made their way through the prison, following the warden, Isabella felt the fictional magnet in her stomach start fluttering around, tugging her harder and closer than it had before.

weird.

what is weird belle? She heard Charles in her head.

"Stop invading my mind, Charles." She grumbled, before stopping in front of the cell holding the mutant - Alex Summers.

"What does the government want with a guy like Alex Summers? I hope you're not planning on putting him with others. First guy, I've ever met who actually prefers solitary confinement." The warden said to them in a judgy tone. People like him were some of the reasons Isabella was anxious to go out, I mean come on no need to be so judgy.

He opened the door and there they saw Alex who so say caused havoc, Bella was guessing with his mutation. The warden cautioned them earlier, about putting him with others in a group, as Alex was the only prisoner he'd known to actually prefer solitary confinement like the warden said before. He looked up with a scowl on his face. Apparently, he wasn't actually bad, just worried about unleashing his mutation and hurting others around him.

We can fix him up. Bella thought feeling the need to help him understand his power, and make him feel more secure using it if he wants to of course.

Once they left the prison, Isabella decided to go back to the CIA facility with Alex. Obviously to see Raven no other reason. She also wanted to assure Alex he won't cause any destruction or hurt others. Charles was reluctant to leave Bella to go back on her own and thought it was odd that she would happily leave the safety of her brother, knowing she preferred to stay with her siblings. Maybe she was coming out of her shell though, which would be amazing for her.

Currently, Bella was sitting next to the newly recruited mutant. She could tell how tense and nervous he was to be out of solitary confinement. They hadn't said much to him about what they were planning, so Isabella felt the need to explain everything, not even just what he was here to do. She wanted to explain mutations to him too. Now she may not have been as smart as Charles, but she knew more than the average person on mutations. After forcing Charles to read about it all to her, she felt pretty confident she could explain it to him and help him understand.

"You don't have to be so nervous you know. I don't bite" She told him softly with a smile.

He didn't say anything, continuing to stare at the airport around him. Isabella sighed not knowing what to say to him. She knew all too well about being quiet. All bella wanted to do was help him.

"I'm not going to ridicule you for whatever you did, or your mutation." She sighed, needing to let him understand she was here to help. Alex looked toward Isabella scoffing before saying.

"I can take the insults, I just don't want to hurt anyone. I don't think you understand how destructive I am."

"You know if you were to get out of control, ill be here to help. I can create forcefields that are sealed tight and impenetrable, nothing would get in or out of my forcefields. I can do other stuff too, but ill only show you if you tell me about you." She smiled.

For the whole plane journey, they both shared storied about their life. Alex even opening up to Isabella about his abilities. He shared the story of how he ended up in prison. She felt for him, no one deserved to feel that way about themselves or their powers. She even ended up making him laugh, which made Belle feel warm inside at the sight.

authors note

hey, lil detail of belle and ravs moms necklace and ring</3 now ik in the movies we know literally nothing bout her parents but in this ff they're mother was a mutant and she was killed because someone in their hometown found out bla bla, with my personal anxiety experiences ik I liked to cling to family or things of my families ik everyone's different but some people will relate :) thnx for reading pls vote !!! ALSO, OUR OTP HAS FINALLY MET YYAAYAYAYA okay ship name ----BALEX ---- CUTE OKAY IM SO EXCITED FOR THEIR JOURNEY HJAHSIHAHDAUKH

I'm so excited for balex wedding au you do not understand

btw I will be doing all movies plus an AU once dark phoenix is done (spoiler Alex wont die... or will he;)

dont forget to vote && comment

#lucas till #alex summers #alex summers x reader #xmen fanfic #sue storm #x reader #x oc #mutant #raven-darkholme

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halogalopaghost · 11 months

Text

Maternal Instincts

6,103 words | read on AO3

"And just where do you think you're going?"

Raph winced and his shoulders instinctively hunched at the startle. Busted. He slowly turned to face Leo, who had his arms crossed over his chest. “I promised Mrs. M I’d drop by today.” He flapped a hand at Leo, brushing it off.

Leo’s expression relaxed a little, softening around the edges. “Oh. You really shouldn’t be helping her out with anything today.” He gestured to the bandages taped to a large portion of Raph’s plastron, toward the right side of where his belt would usually sit.

Raph looked down at the bandages, then back up to his brother. “Nah, it’s fine. She just wanted me to watch some TV show she likes.”

“Raph, don’t lie to me. You’re a terrible liar.”

He scoffed. “Not any worse than you. And I ain’t lyin’!”

“Yes you are! Just tell me the truth, you know I won’t be happy about you leaving either way.”

That little neatly-contained bubble of anger in his chest popped. He threw his arms out dramatically, taking a step in toward Leo. To his credit, he didn’t so much as flinch. “What are you, my mom? I dunno how you have time to stand in front of the mirror and practice your self-righteous speeches when you’re always so far up my ass about stupid shit. You want me to go wake up Don, see if it’s too late to get joined at the hip? Get off my shell already!”

Leo’s jaw was set in a hard line and the muscles at his temples spoke to his grit teeth. “Feel better now?”

“No,” he growled. “You wanna hold my hand all the way there, or can I go now?”

Leo’s eyes moved across his face, searching and analyzing. Raph hated how it always made him feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.

“You know I only ever get on you because I want you to be safe, right? Quit being so vain, I don’t sit around thinking about how I’ll torment you next,” he said, tone mocking and sharp. “I just care about you. I’ll work on that.”

He turned and walked away without another word, going back to where he’d been nursing his own injuries on the couch with a book and a cup of tea. Raph watched him go, anger ebbing with the adrenaline. He’d grumble about it all night, but they’d both be fine in the morning. Probably. He wasn’t gonna lie, the vanity comment kind of stung.

Raph did the same, turning his back on his brother to make a swift exit to the sewers.

Last night's patrol was normal for the first few hours, until they stumbled on some kind of deal between the Dragons and a smaller gang. When they intervened, both sides turned on one another and created a huge free-for-all of close-range weapons and gunfire. The four of them were real fuckin' lucky that none of them were shot, but that didn't mean they got out unscathed. Far from it, actually. They were all wrapped up like mummies, more white than green, with all the scrapes and cuts and sprains. The only reason they weren’t busting their asses to figure out what kind of deal was going on was because Donnie was dead asleep, and had been ever since they got home. The wound he suffered wasn’t serious, but he had lost just enough blood to feel like sleeping for a week.

In Raph's defense, he was a good turtle on the way to Mrs. Morrison’s—he walked an unused subway line as far as he could before surfacing. When he did get aboveground (after sucking in a deep breath of the relatively fresh night air), he stuck to the rooftops and even walked instead of running. He still had to jump the gaps though, and the sensation of the fresh wound pulling on the staples underneath that thick bandage was unpleasant to say the least. It definitely discouraged him from trying anything fancy. By the time he made it to the alleyway door of his friend, he was a little winded.

He knocked, and almost right away the door swung open. Lucy darted out to wind around his ankles and mew at him.

"Oh Raphael, it's good to see you," Mrs. M said, reaching toward him. With Lucy on his shoulders, he held her forearms while she held onto his. A sort of stand-in for a hug, since he tried to avoid any and all shell touching. "I was starting to get worried, you're late!"

"I know Mrs. M, I'm sorry. I had some stuff at home to take care of." Stuff, in this instance, being making sure that Donnie woke up long enough to eat something and change his bandages before falling back into his zombie-like stupor.

"Ah, that's alright Raphael. I know you're a busy boy."

He smiled wide as she ushered him in and locked up behind him. He was almost eighteen now, and Mrs. M was the only person he knew that still treated him like a kid. It was kinda nice, even though he'd die before admitting it.

Well…Leo treated him like a kid too, but not in a good way.

"I promise I won't keep ya. Let's get to work." He plucked Lucy from his shoulders and without thinking, bent over to put her down. The line of staples in his side screamed in pain, but he managed to let out only a muffled grunt. He straightened and pressed his hand to the wound. It hurt, but it at least hurt in a way that didn't make it feel like his guts were gonna pop outta him at any second.

“Did Lucy get you? That cat, sometimes—”

“No no, it ain’t Lucy. I’m fine Mrs. M.” Raph pulled his hand away and checked to make sure there wasn’t blood seeping into the surface of the bandage. When he saw nothing, he released a tense breath and shook his shoulders out. “Where’s those bookcases at?”

“Just back here,” she said. She hooked her hand around his elbow and walked confidently down the short hallway.

Mrs. Morrison didn’t need Raph’s help to get around her home—he was convinced she could map the place upside down and backwards if need be, but she did walk a little faster when she knew someone was keeping an eye out for her. Usually he was perfectly fine with her soft, wrinkled hand resting on his inner elbow and walking alongside him. Usually. Today, he had a bandage around his bicep just an inch above where she put her hand. He wasn’t sure what he was going to tell her if she touched it, so he just watched very carefully so that she didn’t.

And then his head hit the wall.

An almost cartoonish sound came out of his mouth as he collided with the drywall, effectively knocking Mrs. Morrison’s hand loose. She stood with her hand over her open mouth as he slapped a hand on his bald head, and for a moment, neither of them said anything.

“Raphael, dear, remind me which one of us is blind?”

He huffed out a laugh. The impact startled him more than it hurt him; there wouldn’t be a bump or anything to tattle on him later. “Hey, you’re the one movin’ the walls around on me!”

She laughed. It always reminded him of church bells when she laughed. “You really must be more careful. I can’t send you home all banged up—I’m afraid it would leave a rather poor impression on your brothers.”

He took her hand again, this time directing her to his forearm instead of the elbow. “Nah, they already like ya. They figure anyone willin’ to put up with me must be a saint or somethin’.”

They took the last few steps (successfully navigating the doorway this time) into the tiny room that had once been her husband’s office. She was determined to clear it out before the end of the month. While the surprise money had been able to prevent the bank from foreclosing on the townhouse, it wasn’t enough for her to pay the mortgage and live on. With much deliberation, she decided she would try to make that few thousand dollars go much farther and move into a one-room apartment with Lucy. She didn’t need the space, she said, and with the social security benefits he and Don had helped her get in order, she wouldn’t have to worry about money so much. It was a smart plan, but he still felt a little heartache when she ran a hand over her husband’s desk, eyes fond and faraway.

The bookcases wouldn’t be going with her—she had managed to corner someone who would buy them in the bodega across the street. They were only paying half what they were worth, since they were obviously solid wood, but money was money, and Mrs. M could always use a little more of it. All he had to do was get them out to the alley so the couple could pick them up in the morning.

Raph stood in front of one bookcase, hands on his hips and head tilted up. “Uh, Mrs. M, I think you mighta overestimated my height here.”

She turned toward him. “Oh my. Are they very tall?”

“They’re at least a foot taller than me,” he grumbled. He’d gotten taller than Mikey and Leo, but Casey still insisted on the daily that he was very short.

“I must have forgotten. I suppose I never did spend much time committing them to memory,” she laughed. “Maybe we should call one of your brothers, hm? I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

He stuck his head in between a couple shelves and looked for any kind of seam in the center. How had they even gotten these in here to begin with? “No, I got it. I’ll just get ‘em out on their sides.”

“Are you sure?”

He grunted a bit as he straightened. The wound was still throbbing beneath the bandages. He turned toward her—even though she couldn’t see it, it felt more polite. “I’m sure. It’d take ‘em longer to get here than it will for me to move it.”

Mrs. Morrison’s hand trailed along the desk until it came to touch the chair against it, then she sat and folded her hands in her lap. “I’ll keep you company right here, then.”

Raph just stood there for a moment, looking at her. He couldn’t tell her to leave, for multiple reasons, but if she stayed there she’d hear him struggling. Couldn’t she go make tea or something? He kept standing there, and she kept sitting there, so he just gave up.

He got the remaining books off the shelf and neatly stacked them against the wall to be packed later on. Every reach over his head stretched his plastron against those staples. He held his breath every time. Once it was properly empty, he sized up the bookcase, compared its height and width to that of the narrow door. It would have to go through on its side, because it wouldn’t fit any other way.

He rubbed his hands together, glaring up at it. This would be the easy part. With his arms above his head, he gently pulled on an upper shelf and at the same time, pushed on the base with his foot. It took a lotmore effort to move than he thought it would. The full weight of it shifted onto him, and he eked out just a little bit of a grunt before he resorted to holding his breath again. He walked backward as he lowered it, bicep throbbing, to lay face-down on the carpet.

He puffed out the breath, sure his face was turning purple. It was a damn good thing the woman was blind, or he wouldn’t have been able to pull this off.

“Raphael?”

“Just takin’ a breather. These suckers are heavy.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Don’t push yourself too hard. There’s no shame in asking for help.”

His face burned hotter. “I’m okay, I do stuff like this all the time.”

He turned away before she could answer, kneeling to flip the shelf onto its side. His breath came in short little puffs as he fought back the pain and occasional wave of nausea. The sooner he just got it over with, the better. He could put up with a little pain.

With the shelf on its side, it was finally ready to be removed from the room. He got behind it on the narrow end and braced his hands against it, prepared to slide it across the carpet as far as he could. Considering he was too big to carry it through the doorway, it seemed silly to pick it up at all. With his feet braced against the carpet and his body diagonal to the floor, he pushed for all his worth.

The shelf didn’t budge an inch, but something in Raph’s chest did. He let out a wheezing cough as pain exploded in his ribcage and his arms almost gave out from the shock of it alone, which would have sent him headfirst into the shelf. He sat down on the carpet before he could fall, stars exploding in his vision while the room spun.

He blinked away the blackness and found Mrs. M sitting on the floor in front of him, holding the hand that he didn't have pressed to his side. When did she move? Did he lose a few seconds there?

He tightened his hand around hers, and she seemed to slump a bit in relief. "There you are. Breathe, now."

He took a shallow breath, expanding his chest only as much as he had to, and forced himself to release it slowly. In, out, slow. Don’t get worked up.

“Raphael, you aren’t feeling well.”

He looked up at her, still a little dazed. “Mrs. M—”

Her mouth set in a line. “Don’t Mrs. M me, young man.”

“But I made a promise!” I told ya I’d come help tonight and I was already late, let me just finish—”

“Absolutely not. I appreciate your help and care so very much, but you are clearly unwell. You’re going to come rest on the couch and that’s final.”

He could only blink for a few seconds. “You don’t hafta do that, I can call—” the crushing lack of air in his chest forced him to pull in a shallow breath before he could continue. "I can call one of my bros."

“Nonsense. It’s late, they’re sure to be studying or sleeping.”

He hesitated. She wasn’t technically wrong. Donnie was probably out cold, Leo too, and if Mikey wasn’t also asleep, then he was ‘studying’ a video game or comic. “Then I’ll walk myself home. It ain’t a big deal, Mrs. M.” Her hand, soft and wrinkled with age, was still around his. Her hands were almost comically small compared to his own green ones, but they spoke to her many years of life. A few kitchen scars, knobby arthritic knuckles, delicate if unkempt fingernails. He squeezed her hand again.

She frowned stubbornly. “Is there a reason that you need to go home right now?”

He opened his mouth to reply with the instant, obvious answer: yeah, I don’t want to bother you. He let out the breath in a short sigh instead. “No, I guess not.”

“Do you want to go home right now?”

He sighed again, shoulders slouching. She still had not let go of his hand. “Mrs. M, I love hangin’ out with ya…”

She raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And…I don’t want you to hafta take care of me. That ain’t your job.”

If it was possible, her scowl actually deepened and, despite his many years of training, he didn’t foresee her next movements. She slipped her hand away from his and brought the other up alongside it, capturing his round cheeks in her palms. “Raphael, you are not a burden. I enjoy spending time with you; I love you for who you are and how much you care, not for what you can do to help me. Now, you and your brothers have done a great deal to care for me these last few months. Let me return the favor, alright?”

This time, his rapid blinking was not from a lack of understanding, but to stave off the burning, watery sensation. Her hands were so soft and warm on the sides of his face, and they did not hesitate to touch the bandana, or to splay fingers where external ears should have been. She didn’t flinch away from his scaly skin, and she didn’t waver even in the slightest when a watery tear escaped containment and ran against her palm. He sniffled quickly to keep himself in check.

“Yes Ma’am,” he mumbled.

She nodded once and released him. “Thank you. Now come on, these old bones can’t sit down here much longer.” She patted his knee, then began to struggle to her feet.

She groped around for something to hold onto, eventually landing on an ancient filing cabinet. She pulled herself up to her knees by it, then began groping around for something else. Her hand landed on his shell.

A thrill of fear and excitement and nausea jolted him from head to toe, like it always did whenever she touched his shell. She had to know—he was certain she had to know. But she never brought it up even subtly, so he kept pretending that he had her fooled. He grunted a little bit at the effort of keeping his back straight as her weight shifted around on his shell. He released another breathy laugh to cover it up.

Mrs. M’s head tilted at the same time, cocking her ear toward him.

Ah. Raphael was used to living among those who could see, those who depended upon body language indicators. Mrs. M, without any of those things, compensated with her hearing. And even as old as she was, she had sharp hearing. “Ah, shit,” he sighed. “You keep hearin’ me,” he realized aloud.

“Yes sir, and I would advise you to watch your language,” she said, hint of a smile on her face. As if he hadn’t just heard her use quite a few colorful words last week when she burnt herself on the oven.

“Sorry Ma’am,” he said, same cheekiness in his tone.

Raph filed a new mental note: next time, worry more about not gasping and wheezing, less about not grimacing and shaking. He couldn’t help his gravelly little laugh—lethal ninja outwitted by senior citizen, there’s one he could never let Mikey know about.

She carefully settled back into the desk chair. “Look at us,” she said, eyes twinkling. “A couple of old crones, hm?”

Raph pressed his hands to his ribs as he laughed again, more heartily this time. He couldn’t help it around her, and something about the fact that it hurt so much made him laugh more. “I ain’t old, just stupid.” He reached out and grabbed the same filing cabinet she had used, pulling himself to his feet and wobbling a moment before the room stopped spinning. The aftershocks of that extreme pain still rattled around his bones.

“Tch. You aren’t stupid except for when you’re calling yourself names. Be kind to yourself, you hear?”

“You sound like Leo,” he muttered. He grimaced as pain washed over him again. Even the slightest little move was like getting shanked with his own bone. His weight began to sag against the cabinet. Distantly, in the back of his mind, he wondered if a rib end was poking his lung, and if it would puncture it. At the forefront of his mind was not losing consciousness in front of Mrs. M, because if she panicked and called 911, he wouldn’t know what to do. Even worse—if she panicked and called his brothers.

She stood and wrapped her hands around his forearm again, but this time it was her supporting him. “Are you alright?”

“…Hng,” he replied articulately. He focused on not letting himself hyperventilate on the short, quick breaths he drew in order to keep the lung from getting stabbed again.

“Here, lean on me. I can take it. That’s right.” They started in slow steps forward. “Now don’t let us go running into any walls this time, hm?”

He laughed weakly, then winced. “Mrs. M, I really ain’t feelin’ so good.”

“I know. Come on, just a bit further and you can lie on the couch.”

Raph dropped all pretense as he eased himself into the comfy old couch. He groaned, partly from pain, partly from frustration, and sighed deeply once his shell was nestled in the cushions.

Mrs. M, obviously operating on pure muscle memory, reached over him to pluck a crocheted blanket off the back of the couch and made sure every inch of him was covered. He could only smile at her through half-lidded eyes. How did he not realize how tired he was?

“How about some tea?”

“You don’t hafta do that, I’m fine.”

She gave him a dry look, hands on her hips. “Did you eat dinner?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Now Raphael, you wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?”

He spluttered, starting to sit up in order to defend himself, but Mrs. Morrison easily pushed him back down. “No, I’m not lyin’ to you,” he pouted.

“Oh, I should know you would never lie to me,” she crooned.

He opened his mouth to confirm as much, and the words died on his tongue as his lies-du-jour came back to haunt him. Wow, that was some exceptionally prompt karma. He scowled, effect completely lost on the blind woman.

She laughed airily and headed for the kitchen. “What kind of tea?”

“Anything’s fine,” he grumbled, resigned.

Listening to Mrs. M hum while she moved about the kitchen, Raph let his eyes drift close and his mind wander while the pain in his ribs slowly began to fade. As annoying as it was, he found his mind wandering toward his conversation with Leo. Okay, less of a conversation, more of just....slinging abuse at each other. If Leo could see him now, he’d be steaming mad.

He shifted on the couch, sinking deeper into the crevice where the back and the seat met. Just that little movement brought a jab of pain along with it. Of those ribs that were previously cracked, at least one of them was now broken. At least the staples were still firmly in place, even if there was a small bloom of red on the bandage. Man, he was really lucky to have a blind friend.

“Do you want a snack with your tea?”

He shook his head. This woman. “Mrs. M, I promise I already ate. I ain’t hungry.”

“Teenage boys are always hungry,” she quipped. She brought the tea tray over along with a bag of bite-sized cookies. Raph was starting to suspect she kept them around just for him and the other neighborhood kids that sometimes stopped by to see or help her.

Very slowly and with an abundance of thought toward what sounds he was making, Raph sat up to take a warm mug into his hands. He remained slouched against the cushions so he wouldn’t put any strain on that wound or its staples that continued to feel ever tighter. He was probably overdue for an anti-inflammatory, but like shell was he gonna ask Mrs. M for anything more.

Mrs. M perched beside him on the cushions with her own tea in hand, holding it close under her nose as it steamed. He had seen his father do the same thing plenty of times. Just to placate her, he noisily put his hand in the bag of cookies and withdrew a single one, crunching it loudly and chasing it down with a gulp of tea. She smirked as she listened to his display.

They didn’t speak as they sipped at their tea. Raph enjoyed the silence, savoring the warmth as he swallowed and the ability to breathe without stabbing pain. His eyes started to grow heavy as his mug emptied.

“Are you finished with your tea?”

Raph startled awake with a soft snort. He blinked off the sleep, then nodded and held out the mug. Mrs. M took it and the cookies to the kitchen and returned shortly. She didn’t say anything, only pressed slightly against Raph’s arm to get him to lay down. With a little bit of blind searching, she located the edges of the blanket and tucked him back in.

“There,” she whispered. She took her seat at the other end of the couch and reached for the TV remote, in the same place she always kept it.

“How come you and Mr. Morrison never had kids?”

She faltered and let the remote rest in her lap. "We did have a son."

Only then did it occur to Raph that it was probably rude to ask. A little bit of his sleepiness wore off as he grasped for something to say in response. But, after a long pause, she continued.

"When my poor Harry passed, it was very hard on our boy. He was terminally ill, you see, and he had a do not resuscitate order. It was a routine surgery..." her expression went faraway. She turned to him with a fragile smile and patted his leg. "Well, you certainly don't want all those details. I was asked by the surgeon if I wanted to abide by the DNR order, and I said yes. It was Harry's choice, I did not intend to take that from him at the most vulnerable he would ever be. Poor Rob, he fought me about it and tried to fight the doctors too, but I had power of attorney. He's never forgiven me for letting his father go like that."

Raph started openly, lips parted in shock. He'd known her so long now, how was he only just now finding out about this kid of hers? And how could anyone turn their back on such a kind and vulnerable woman like that?

She heaved a sigh. "That was almost three years ago now. I still don't know if it was the right choice... For now, I let him have his anger."

"He shouldn't be angry!" Raph burst out, propping himself up on his elbow. "You didn't do nothin' wrong—you were just takin' care of your family!"

She reached out and put a gentle hand to his knee. "Now Raphael, he has a right to be upset. He lost his father long before we expected and it was my own decision."

"It wasn't yer fault," he grumbled.

"No, it wasn't. And I reach out to him every now and again, so he knows that when he’s ready, I’m still here for him. Now lay down, I can feel you shaking.”

He realized that he was shaking, actually, with the effort of keeping himself propped up. That didn’t bode well for the long walk home. He laid back down and stared at the ceiling, steaming over this son of hers. How could he walk out on her like that? Did he know his mother had gone blind, or that his parents’ home was going to be foreclosed on? Did he know she had survived the Triceraton invasion of the city? Had he survived it? Family was supposed to take care of each other no matter what, even when they get angry. Couldn’t he see that?

Raph blinked. His argument with Leo again played over in his mind like a cassette tape.

“Mrs. M, could I ask ya one more favor?”

“Of course, dear.”

“Can I use yer phone?”

She walked him to the kitchen and took the phone off its cradle, stretching the cord for all its worth to reach him. She even punched in the complicated number for him, since their phones weren’t exactly on the regular city system.

“I’ll be just down the hall, Raphael.”

“Thanks Mrs. M.”

The phone rang, and Raph waited nervously. Leo might not pick up—he had never not picked up before, but…Raph usually didn’t try to call him so soon after an argument.

Leo’s first words were, “Are you okay?”

He almost rolled his eyes, then he remembered why he was calling in the first place. “Yeah, Leo, I’m fine. I just…uh, listen. I want to apologize.”

There was a beat of confused silence where Raph started to wonder if he’d been hung up on. “Go ahead.”

He sucked in a breath. “Uh, well I was lyin’ to ya. And that’s pretty childish of me, I guess.” He twisted the phone cord in his free hand, knee bouncing. “I was gonna help Mrs. M move some furniture, but she found me out. Guess I’m not good at hidin’ stuff even from a blind lady.”

“Do you need me to come get you?”

“No, no, I’m okay.”

“Are you lying again?”

He closed his eyes and smirked ruefully. “Yeah. I didn’t bust the staples or nothin’, but that cracked rib is probably broken now.”

Leo sniffed on the other end. “Well, I guess you learned your lesson at least.”

“Hey, could ya quit being an ass for a second? I’m trying to be nice here.”

He laughed softly. “Right, right. Sorry. I should apologize too—it’s not like I think you can’t take care of yourself, I just get worried. And I know I’m not your parent or anything, but…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come get you? I could bring the truck so you don’t have to walk.”

“Nah, I’m okay. Honest. I’m gonna hang out here for a little while, I can at least keep Mrs. M company even if I can’t help her move stuff.”

“Alright. Don’t stay out too late, okay?”

Raph smiled. Seconds after apologizing for parenting him too much and he was already back at it. “Okay. And hey—if you do come out for me, just send Donnie instead. If he sleeps too long he’ll be awake forever, and you should be resting too. Don’t think I didn’t see that limp.”

Leo laughed again, a little heartier this time. “Alright, alright. I think I can do that. Thanks for calling, Raph.”

“Yeah, whatever, don’t go gettin’ all sappy on me now. I’ll see ya later.”

They exchanged goodbyes, and Raph hung the phone back in its rightful place. Mrs. M, who surely did not listen in at all, just so happened to return at that particular moment.

“Thanks fer lettin’ me use the phone, just needed to talk to my bro real quick. We can watch some TV now.”

They ambled back to the couch and, once again, Mrs. M insisted upon tucking him in with the blanket. He couldn’t stop smiling himself silly about it, but he indulged her.

“Uh, Mrs. M, I’m sorry about your son.”

“Thank you, Raphael. Now, here, find us something to watch.”

He took the remote and flipped through channels for a while. He considered stopping on a recap of last week’s football games, but he decided Mrs. M probably wouldn’t be too interested in that.

A flash of a sewing machine made him stop and go back. His mouth fell partly open as he stared at the screen, trying to figure out what the shell was going on.

“Is that a sewing machine I hear?”

“I think so, but man, I have never seen someone butcher silk like that!”

She laughed. “Raphael, don’t tell me you sew too! “

He flushed.

“You’re so talented. Your father really did educate you very well, I should like to tell him myself someday.”

“Ah, hush. I dunno how to sew much more than some straight lines. My brother—Mikey, he likes to watch these shows and he’s the one who does all the fancy sewing.”

She hummed in a way that sort of made him think she didn’t believe him, but moved on too quickly for him to dwell on it. “What are they doing to this poor silk, then?”

They watched for a while, him describing the outfits and contestants to her. Their commentary was full of genuine criticism interspersed with pettier comments and plenty of laughing. He described to her all the outfits as they went down the finished runway, which was both very fun and a fantastic exercise in holding back on the descriptive swearing.

He began losing attention as the judges started tearing into the contestants and they played the weepy sidebar interviews about how mean everyone was and they really deserved to win. Mrs. M didn’t need description for any of that, she was really good at keeping track of who’s who just by their voices, so he let his eyes drift closed. Just for a moment, he told himself. When the final judging was over, he would get up and go home. Leo probably wasn’t going to listen to his advice about sending Don.

He would just rest his eyes during the commercials.

---

Donnie woke up in the early hours of the morning, when he usually would have been going to bed. He felt a little disoriented as he got a good look at his clock and the date on it—had he seriously slept that long? He vaguely remembered Raph barging in at some point with a snack and some water, but the ice was long melted in the glass and the remainder of the snack was gone.

He hobbled out into the lair in search of a new, more substantial snack. He felt like his insides were about to eat themselves. He booted his laptop up and brought it with him, fan whirring fit to take off, into the kitchen. He slapped some butter and bread into a pan, heart set on a grilled cheese.

As the pan warmed up, he scrolled around on the laptop. Out of habit he checked all the security cameras and perimeter alarms, then the GPS program built into it. He stopped and squinted at the page. He zoomed in, then out, then restarted the program. No, it wasn’t program error. Raph was definitely not in the lair, and the last location on his now-dead shell cell looked suspiciously familiar. He wracked his sleepy brain for the answer.

Mrs. Morrison!

He shot out of his seat and grabbed her phone number off the fridge, punching it into his shell cell without hardly looking at it. Raph was probably fine, but…well, he wanted to be sure. Being sure never hurt.

“Hello?”

“Mrs. Morrison! Hi, uh, this is Raph’s brother Donatello, is he with you?”

“Oh, yes.”

He sighed and sagged against the counter. The woman sounded remarkably awake for the hour.

“I tried to call your eldest brother, but he didn’t answer. I figured he’d fallen asleep, but one of you would reach out sooner or later.” She had herself a little chuckle. Donnie dove for the pan, which had begun to smoke a little as he neglected it. “He fell asleep on the couch and I just didn’t have the heart to wake him after how he was feeling so unwell.”

Don dumped the burned bread and butter into the trash and frowned. “Did he say he wasn’t feeling well?”

She scoffed. “Oh, heavens no. I had to wrangle the information out of him.”

Yeah, that sounded more like Raphael. “Do you want me to come get him? I don’t want to put you out—”

“Don’t be silly, he’s perfectly fine where he is. I say let the boy rest, and you rest as well young man, and one of you can come get him in the morning. The proper morning.”

He smirked as he put the pan in the sink. “Okay Ma’am, that sounds like a plan. Thanks for taking care of that bozo for us.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I rather care for him, you know. I hope it isn’t too forward of me to say, but…he’s somewhat like my son. It’s nice to have someone to take care of every now and then.”

Donnie eased himself back into his chair at the counter. “That makes perfect sense. I’ll let you go then, and I’ll see you in the morning. Oh! I mean—”

She laughed. “You will see me in the morning, no worries. Goodnight, Donatello.”

“Goodnight Ma’am.”

#turtleposting #tmnt #the ghost writes #my fic #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt03

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lysa1201-saucy · 2 years

Text

Don’t Read A Book In Abyssal At 3 AM! (Not Clickbait)(Emotional)(Gone Sexual) - Lucifer x F!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Read Chapters Early on my Patreon!! Chapter 6 is currently up! Also includes NSFW art uncensored!! <;33

Lmk if you wanna be added to the tag list!! Thank you for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments appreciated!

This story will contain sexual themes and smut in the future, which is why it is being posted onto my 18+ account rather than my SFW account. Thank you <33

Genre: Comedy, Romance (Fluff + Smut), Angst

Warnings: None (that I know of, lmk if there is thanks)

Word Count: 1614

++++

“Can we take a break day? Please?” You pleaded, passing puppy dog eyes to Lucifer, who stood at the foot of your bed. “I feel horrible today,” You added, sniffling.

Lucifer stood over you, waking you up. He wanted to get to work, but you never left your room, so he went to grab you. When he saw you lying in bed still, looking pale and sweaty, he could tell you were sick immediately. Why did you look so cute, though? Asking for permission to take a break, seeming so innocent, and he couldn’t get enough of it. Fuck, you made his heart flutter so much.

Ever since he saw your dating profile, he had been paying more attention to you. The way you did things, said things, and acted. Finally, after two weeks of observation, you were all occupied in his mind. Although, you couldn’t deny that he occupied your mind.

You noticed that Lucifer seemed to appreciate you more and loved asking about you whenever you had a break, even if they were rare. Lucifer looked at you more, his gaze longer than usual. You liked his glances more than you would like to admit.

A fictional character you once fantasized about was staring at you, asking about you, appreciating you, and holy shit did it make you feel some way? Of course, he wasn’t your favorite in the game, but you couldn’t deny that you didn’t believe he was hot as fuck.

He sighed. How could he tell you no? He didn’t want to show that he felt many butterflies from how you looked at him and instead chose to act rather annoyed. “Fine, but once you get better, we’re going to have to do double the work if I’m going to get home soon,”

You coughed and passed a slight grin, “Thank you, Lucifer.”

You rolled over to your lay on your side and tightly snuggled into your covers for warmth. Lucifer was incredibly close to just offering you to cuddle him, but he knew that would be a terrible mistake.

Lucifer wanted to convince himself that this was just some form of lust. He couldn’t like you; it would be wrong. Moreover, he would lose his sense of pride if he fell for a human, especially one he would be leaving soon and never return to see again. Part of him believed that if you let him fuck you, he’d stop having you be the only thing in his mind. It’s happened before, so obviously, this would be the same, right?

At that moment, when he left your room, he decided to try to make that a goal of his. Fuck you to forget you. Make it clear to you that he’s only interested in a one-night stand, fuck your brains out, then pretend it didn’t happen. It’s worked before; it would work again.

Why was he so nervous? Why was he so anxious to make that move? It’s not like you would reject him. He was one of your “demon boyfriends,” after all. He needed to suck it up and find the time. The feelings were lust, it was nothing more, and it never could be.

“Lucifer!” He heard your hoarse voice call out to him. He stood up from the couch and walked into your room. “Can I ask you a favor?”

Lucifer sighed, something he did a lot. “What is it?”

“Can you get me a glass of water and some painkillers? I’m not feeling any better,” You asked him. You just looked so sad and helpless; all he wanted to do was hold you and kiss the pain away. Stop being so fucking adorable. It’s rude.

Lucifer refused to say a word as he knew if he did, you’d notice how much you were affecting him, and Lucifer could not have you see what he felt. He would be embarrassed and lose every sense of pride he had if you noticed.

He walked to find painkillers for you and got you a glass of water. He liked the idea of taking care of you. You depended on him; you were asking him for help. Was he feeling soft and cuddly for you, or was his dick hard? He couldn’t figure it out, but he knew the reason was you.

He needed to fuck you fast if he wanted these thoughts to stop taking over him. Lucifer knew deep down that doing so wasn’t the best idea, but he was sure that if he just told you that it would be a one-night stand and it would mean absolutely nothing, you two would remain okay with each other, right? Because unfortunately, he did need to stay with you. Without you, he wouldn’t have a place to stay, sleep, or eat. Also, he had no money, no way of communication, and he needed your ID to get him the books he needed to figure out how to get back home. So if he made it clear that it means nothing and he just is horny as fuck and needs to get you out of his head, you’re sure to understand, right?

Lucifer returned to your room with your painkillers and water. You looked awful. Well, physically in you’re sick way. But you were still stunning to him. He couldn’t get your dating profile pictures out of his head, and he wished you would dress that way for him instead of a profile where you try to find a mediocre guy to date. “Here, I hope it helps,” Lucifer gave the two to you.

“Thank you,” You said, automatically taking the painkillers.

Lucifer didn’t know what to say, so he turned and went to walk to the door. “I’ll be in the living room working-”

“Wait,” You stopped him. “Can you stay in here for a bit? I’m just,” You stuttered a bit, already embarrassed by asking the cute asshole to stay. “I’m bored.” You admitted.

He nodded, crossed his arms, and sat down on your bed.

There was a small silence for a while before you chose to speak up, “I’m really sorry I got you in a mess. Truly, I am. I know you hate me, but I want you to know that I am genuinely sorry.”

“I don’t hate you,”

You were speechless for a second. “You don’t?”

Lucifer shook his head. “You may have gotten into this mess first, but you’ve been a big help. I would never have made this much progress alone.”

“Oh,” Was all you could say in response. “It’s nothing. Anyone would have done it,” You quietly finished. A small silence again, “Usually, if I were sick, I would be playing the game you’re from religiously,” You chuckled. “Unfortunately, ever since you arrived, the game stopped existing. Maybe that’s why I’m so bored.”

Lucifer shifted in his spot. “What exactly was the game?” He asked curiously. “My life never felt like a game. I spent time with my brothers, Diavolo and Barbatos, went to school, worked, and usually repeated that. I don’t remember living in some kind of game.”

You thought about your answer before thinking about what to say without making his life sound fake. “Well, it was a dating game,” You began. “You could romance you and all of your brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon. And be kind of a sibling figure to Luke.”

Lucifer intertwined his own hands together, deep in thought. “How much do you know about us? What story did you follow?”

“Well,” You thought about what to say again. “It was about an exchange program to unite the three realms. It was an idea Diavolo had started. Two human exchange students and two human exchange students. I was one of the students out of a random pick. Or, the main character was, at least.

“The main character becomes a family therapist for you and your brothers, helping you fix things that we probably shouldn’t have even put ourselves into. You hid Belphegor in an attic because he wanted to commit treason. I tried to make pacts with you and all your brothers, and when he was released, he killed the main character, which was kind of awkward.” You chuckled. “We came back to life, though, thanks to Barbatos. And then, um,”

How were you supposed to bring up Lilith? “And?” Lucifer pressed.

“I know about Lilith,”

Lucifer tensed up and looked down at his hands. His leg began to bounce. He was not enjoying the idea of that. “What do you know about her?”

“The Celestial War was to protect her, but she didn’t make it. So you swore to Diavolo to have her resurrected as a human. The main character was her descendant.” He stayed silent. He remained tense, and his leg only bounced faster. “You didn’t have to keep it all to yourself, you know?”

“I had to,”

“No, you didn’t,” You denied. “You don’t need to put so much pressure on yourself. You don’t need to go through things alone. You-”

“I have to go,” Lucifer interrupted you, standing up from his spot and walking towards the door.

“Wait, Lucifer-”

“I don’t want to talk, so please rest.” He spoke honestly. He wasn’t happy, but Lucifer tried hard not to take it out on you. Even if he was slightly mad about how much you knew about him and his story, how was it your fault? It wasn’t. But he still wanted to blame you.

The two of you didn’t speak the rest of the day, besides him bringing you in dinner and more painkillers whenever you needed them. You just hoped things could patch up between you two soon.

++++

Tag List: @sassykattery , @dfgdfgxftdd , @karmasadistic69 , @sayumiht

Next Part

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me smut

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totallynotaraccoonindiscuise · 12 hours

Text

tw vent

my mom is the only person who can make literally everything about how hard it is for her and how her husband is evil.

my dad has this character he made up. shes like this steampunk fairy thing and ive wanted to draw her since i first heard about her.

today my dad was like "hey u should draw my character" so i thought it would be cool because i was bored and he described some more of her actual design to me and i drew it

i went to show my mom and she was just like "ok. cool." and i just broke the fuck down

when i was 6 fucking years old i started drawing things because she liked art and i wanted to impress her. she had a huge big loving warm reaction to it and i felt amazing. i started drawing all the time and she even put me in an art class. this was like one of my core moments that literally changed my entire me. ever since then i drew every day on any slip of paper i could get my little paws on.

at the start of covid everything was terrible. everything sucked and i started learning things about myself. depression, gender dysphoria, anxiety, full nine yards. i was stuck in my home with my family for months and i just wanted to interact with people. i was all of the depression. i couldn't get up in the morning, i couldn't sleep at night, i couldn't eat, i couldn't run around, everything sucked all the ass.

i lost motivation. all of it.

any motivation to wright or draw or do anything. i lost motivation to live. drawing was my escape mechanism. it made me feel like my mom cared. it made me feel good. and i just couldn't do it anymore. it hurt. it hurt so so much.

eventually i figured i was a lesbian and told my sister who told my dad and he reacted poorly and said i was to young to know. after that, everything went numb. i couldn't feel happy, or angry, or sad. i actually lost my ability to cry for a year. just all of the tears were gone after being a very emotional feeling kid.

i started public school after my mom finally decided i was worthy of not being homeschooled (the art class was my only interaction with other people). i met people i cared about. who cared about me even if i couldn't draw. i met people who were some of the worst people ever. i met people. it was amazing. i went to school every day and talked to people i liked and liked me even though i wasn't special or important.

i started getting motivated again. i started doodiling on any scrap of paper i could find. i started wanting to wright again. i started to get past the numbness. i did get passed the numbness. everything was better. i started finding a personality i liked instead of one just to make my parents happy.

my moms opinion has always mattered. it still does.

going back to what actually brought us to now.

after my mom disregarded my art that i wanted her opinion on i went to my room to go have a breakdown. i started crying and my dad came in and asked me what was wrong. i told him that i showed mom the art and she didn't even look at it. then mom came in and asked what was happening and dad told her. she said shit like

"i was busy."

"i like your art /lie"

"dont do art for other people without them paying you"

"dont get involved with your dads bullshit"

and i told her that this has nothing to do with that, and that i just wanted her to look at my art.

she said all the same shit again

she just would not admit that she fucked up

she kept passing it onto my dad

she kept making up excuses as to why she wasn't in the wrong

eventually dad stepped in and backed me up

and she just said all the same shit again

eventually i told her to fuck off and went to my bed, still crying rivers.

shes literally just in her room watching reruns of her childhood crush right now. like none of this matters to her. like she didn't just rip my heart out of my body, throw it to the ground, and step on it infront of me. like she didn't just fuck up the thing ive hidden in my entire life.

i dont think i can keep drawing

i dont think i can keep thinking about my characters i want to wright.

i dont think i can keep doing this.

fuck this shit man she always says shit about how i shouldnt let others dictate how i feel and not give me an environment i can develop like any sort of healthy relationship with anyone ever

im gonna go doomscroll mlm fanart till i feel better. if you read this, please help me.

#cw vent #tw vent #mention of homophobia #depression #cw depression #tw depression #mental health #i actually need help

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jhilsara · 2 months

Note

Part 5 please??

Since you asked *v*

The next month (JULY) goes by and it is filled with unruly sexual tension between Sam and MC.

Damien can hear it all in both of their heads to and wants to slam himself against the wall because of it.

They awkwardly are dancing around their feelings and avoiding taking about it.

MC doesn’t want to push Sam into something and she sure as hell doesn’t know how relationships work for Incubi… or if they even do relationships.

Honestly, she still doesn’t know much about them, well except for the notes on magic and demon creatures her grandfather left. Which, while somewhat helpful, is not comparable to just asking them…

She’s reading over the book in his study when James comes in.

“Oh sorry, didn’t know you were in here today.” He apologizes “No, it’s fine.” She slams her grandfathers’ books closed and pushes it away from her in frustration. James quirks a brow. “Doesn’t look fine.” She wants to pull her hair out, “It’s not you it’s grandpa’s journals and short hand magic. I can’t really decipher a lick of it.” “Want me to look at it?” He asks grabbing his own book of log information for the company. “Sure. Knock yourself out. I need a brain break.” She hands it over to him. “You want me to translate it to something legible?” James asks “You don’t need to! I’d appreciate it but you have a lot on your plate.” “It’s fine. I can read your grandfathers short hand quite well now. He used it too in his work notes.” James “Thanks James.” “Could you do me a favor? This will take a little bit of time; can you handle dinner tonight?” James “Absolutely!”

She cooks dinner with Matthew that night. So, she has a pair of extra hands and also Matthew likes to be helpful… or nosey in this case.

“Sooooooo…” Matthew draws out while he’s chopping veggies. “yes?” She laughs “You and Sam have gotten pretty close huh?” He prods She raises a brow at him, “Um, I guess? Not any closer than I am with you all though.” She responds Matthew laughs, “So you’d let any of us take a nap with you all cuddled up?” Her face goes red and she whips around to him. “Not cute Matthew.” “I’m just asking if you and Sam are a thing yet!” he shrugs with a shit eating grin She groans, “We’re not anything Matthew.” She lets out a sigh and grabs a kitchen towel to whip down the counter. “We haven’t even talked about it okay?” Matthew raises a brow at her, his smiling fading, “Wait, like, you and Sam just were really close almost intimate the whole vacation and nothing? Not even a conversation.” She wants to scream. “Wow, I mean I knew Sam was emotionally constipated but damn.” “That’s what I mean! I’ve tried to approach him twice and he’s run for the hills. I mean…” she fidgets with her hands. “Do demons even get into relationships?” Matthew shifts his eyes, “Well, I mean… yes we do. But uh, none of us really have great examples to pick from when it comes to examining a healthy loving relationship.” Now it’s her to turn to be curious. “Erik vaguely mentioned once your dad was a real monster… What did that mean?” Matthew groans and tries to focus on cooking while answering, “He’s awful. Like your dad sucks don’t get me wrong but our dad… he’s killed people and started wars and I’m not exaggerating.” A shiver runs down her spine. “And your mom?” “More like moms, plural. We all have a different mom… James mom was the first one, the first wife. But our dad, the Demon Lord, it wasn’t enough. Then he married Erik’s mom and rinse and repeat. Except Damien’s mother… he never married her, he’s a bastard son…” Matthew’s gripping the knife hard in his hand, not moving to cut veggies anymore. “Matthew you don’t have to talk about it-” she tries to stop him. “No, it’s- it’s not fine, but we can’t never talk about our old lives.” He sighs before continuing. Shoving the veggies into a pan to cook them. “Our moms did not have good relationships. They wanted power and would get terribly jealous of each other. So much so the Demon Lord finally just took all of our mothers and destroyed their physical forms, turning them into orbs…” he sighs and turns to MC “Anyway, our parents didn’t have great love stories. Most incubi and succubi don’t even believe in love. It’s a human emotion, not one that many of us know…” “Oh.” Her shoulders slump in defeat. Matthew looks up at her face and panics a bit, “Hey it’s not impossible! I didn’t mean to bum you out! I just… I’m just saying we wouldn’t know what love looks or feels like. I wouldn’t say it’s impossible though.” He grabs her arms and makes her look at him. “I’ve seen how Sam looks and interacts towards you. It’s not how he’s ever been. When we were in the Abysall Plains, he was so filled with rage. Always fighting anything and everyone. Even our father. All the time. Since he met you though? That’s a different person.” “I don’t know if love is real, or if we feel it, but I can tell you he feels something besides rage and it’s because of you.” “Thanks Matthew…” she hugs him tightly.

James gives her his copy of her grandfather’s notes at dinner, well the first 10 pages, and she’s ecstatic.

She takes it upstairs after dinner to immediately start reading them. It makes so much more sense to her now. She’s still confused by how magic works, and if she can even preform it, but it’s better than her trying to decipher her grandfather’s short hand by herself.

She falls asleep reading the notes on her bed. Until she’s rudely awoken. And it’s mega rude.

DIAAAAAAANAAAAAA LET ME BE THE ONE TO LIGHT A FIRE INSIDE THOSE EYES~

Anyway, Diana shows up, and uh very rudely wakes her up. Also she is not trying to play pretend with a human disguise she is full on succubus form and it’s the first one MC has seen since the boys have not reveled theirs yet.

First MC hears an obnoxious giggling but it’s the heat next to her face that wakes her up abruptly.

The notes James had just written for her are all on fire, in purple flames. It surrounds her, only burning the papers, but she can feel the heat.

Before she can scream there is a woman on her bed cover her mouth, and she definitely looks like a demon. She’s covered in purple marks with horns on her head and a thin tail whipping behind her.

MC looks around frantically trying to do something, but the fire and the woman are overwhelming her.

She looks back to the demon in front of her, and she feels the ebbing of enthrallment blend its way into her brain. She doesn’t like this enthrallment.

It makes her feel mush in her brain, like theirs no choice but to look at this woman who is still on top of her.

The demon slowly removes her clawed hand and gets closer to MCs face.

“So, you must be that Warlocks kin, right?” is the first thing this woman says to her. She doesn’t process it at all. “Answer me girl.” She sounds unamused. MC just nods her head, it’s too fuzzy to talk. “Mmmm, I’m going to do you a favor and get rid of these papers for you.” She slowly grabs a page of the notes and watches it fizzle away into ash in her hand. “You should think me before the Angels find out about you.” She looks back to MC and her face in unamused and fierce. “I’m taking those incubi brothers back home where they belong human. I don’t care how long they’ve been here they do not belong in this world. I need them to stop the war their father is going to unleash.” MC tries to break the enthrallment but she stays under the control of the succubus, who is slowly taking her energy and she barely touches her. She grips onto the MCs next, not enough to bruise but tight enough. “Do not tell them you saw me tonight human. I will rip your world apart. All of your friends and loved ones, gone. I’ll make sure your biggest fear becomes real…You’ll be alone, unloved.” The fear in her body rises as she looks at this woman who easily could kill her, and also apparently end her emotional and social life too. “I’ll take them tomorrow so say your goodbyes.” She let’s go of her throat and MC is gasping. As the demon rises she looks at the ashes left on the bed. “I am serious about that magic business you know. If you go digging Angels will come for you… They see everything pretty black and white and pick and choose who can use magic.” She leaves the room with that warning and the enthrallment ends. The room spins before MC passes out.

She wakes up late the next morning feeling like absolute shit. She wracks her brain over the night before coming up empty. Until she brushes the ash off her bed.

She bristles and throws herself off her bed. She doesn’t brush her hair or change out of her pjs and she bolts downstairs.

She bursts into the dining room, out of breath, and all five of the boys are in the middle of breakfast and give her a very confused look.

“You’re up awfully late.” James “Geez we’re not gonna eat all the food!” Matthew “What’s up with you?” Sam Her mind races around a million things, all from the previous night. Until her eyes land on Damien. Damien stares at her trying to decipher her thoughts that are running wild. “She’s here.” Damien panic looks at his brothers who are super confused. “Who’s here Damien?” Erik “That succubus… the one whose hand was promised to one of you.” “Excuse me?” James “…” Sam’s sitting in silent rage, his knuckles are white. His eye flash to MC for a second, his anger increasing. “Did she hurt you?” he asks her, calmly, but the anger lingers behind his words. “Uh, no no, she… I mean she threatened to if I told you guys. I think, I think she also took my energy? It’s kind of fuzzy.” MC “She what?!” Sam shouts and it rocks the room. He takes a deep breath and gets up to look at her. The dark circles under her eyes are bad, she’s also rocking on her feet a little. He grabs her arms to settle her, but he can feel her energy. It’s massively low. “She took a lot. How long was she there?” He asks her. “I uh,” She avoids Sam’s intense gaze for a second, looking at Damien behind him before looking back. “I really don’t know. She showed up in the middle of the night and immediately enthralled me. She caught me off guard by burning the notes on my bed.” She says bitterly. “What the fuck.” Sam bites out. He turns to Damien. “She wants to take us back. Back to the Demon Realm…” Damien looks at his brothers in worry. “She’s crazy if she thinks we’re going back with her!” Matthew “She mentioned… stopping a war...? The Demon Lord?” she mumbles thinking “That doesn’t involve us.” Erik “Well she certainly thinks it does. She told me she’s ruin my life, make sure I’d be alone.” MC “That’s not gonna happen.” Sam says in determination. She backs up from Sam, taking a few steps to just breath. “That’s real nice guys, but this, this is just a lot to process right now.” She’s caving in on herself. Erik grabs a chair and lowers her into it. She curls herself in the chair and hugs her knees to her chest. She feels a little defeated and exhausted from supernatural beings trying to kill her. She overhears the boys talking but isn’t registering what they’re saying. She’s lost in her own thoughts, isolating herself. Someone touches her head, patting down her hair, in a soothing fashion. She locks eyes with Sam. “You’re not alone so don’t push us out okay?” he whispers. She nods, her throat still tight. There’s a disruption in the conversation, a summoning circle appears and up comes the succubus from the night before. The group stands their ground, Sam stands in front of MC with Erik, hopefully blocking her from the Succubus.

There's actually not that much left in my notes. I'm still figuring out Diana and the second game. But I can give you what's left (Which is another scene with Sam that I lowkey love) and maybe what the plan is? I think I need to replay it and take some notes ngl

#seduce me otome #seduce me fanfiction #seduce me sam #asks

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angelsfalling16 · 2 years

Text

Swimming and Baking

I came up with the idea for this fic while I was in the pool this morning and it's a little rushed and barely edited but it feels so good to be writing again 😁 also, it's very small, but there's a mention of Simon's birthday at the end, so happy 25th birthday, Simon! 🥳🎂

Summary: Simon never learned how to swim when he was a kid, and when he finally decides to learn how, he's surprised to run into an old nemesis/crush.

Word count: 2182

Read it on ao3 or down below

Simon

It’s embarrassing enough that I'm 24 years old and never learned how to swim, but I'm even more mortified when I see who my swim instructor is. Bouncing from foster home to foster home, I never really had an opportunity to learn how to swim - no one cared enough to teach me - and now, seeing Baz pitch of all people, I'm wondering if this was a mistake.

Baz was the hottest guy at our high school. Not that I would have ever admitted that back then. I didn't begin to understand my feelings for him until it was far too late, and then we graduated and I never saw him again. Until now, at one of my most humiliating moments.

I want to turn around and leave, pretend like this never happened, but it's too late. He's already seen me.

He seems just as surprised to see me, but he's very professional as he explains to me the basics of swimming.

"For today, we'll just focus on learning how to float. To start, I'm going to have you lay back in the water, and I'm going to help keep you above the water."

I nod and follow his instructions. He places one hand under my back and the other under my legs. My body feels tense all over, as I try to react to the feeling of his hands on me.

"Relax," Baz says gently. "Just breathe and relax."

Baz

In high school, I imagined a million ways that I could have my hands on Simon, but none of them were quite like this. It was surprising to see him after all of these years and even more surprising given the circumstances.

He's not the only adult we've had to teach how to swim, but it's weird how things have aligned in such a away that I'm his swim instructor. This is going to be an interesting few weeks.

***

Simon

Shit. I'm running late.

"Tish," I call out to the front of the bakery, and a moment later, she enters, her blue and black striped hair swinging. Her color of the month.

"Yes?"

"Can you watch these cakes and pull them out to cool? Cal will be in first thing in the morning to decorate them."

They're a last minute order, but I couldn't say no to making one more pride cake. It is pride month after all.

"Of course," Tish nods, but I'm still skeptical. Tish is amazing when it comes to making cool and crazy coffee flavors, but she's the opposite when it comes to baking. "It'll be fine. Aren't you late to be somewhere?"

I sigh because she's right.

If Baz had just given me his number, I could have texted him to let him know that I would be late, but he refused, saying it was unprofessional. And now he probably thinks I flaked because of how terrible I am even though this will only be our third lesson.

Baz

Simon is late. I shouldn't be so surprised. He was always late back in school, but since he's paying for this, you'd think that he would try to actually show up on time.

Maybe he quit. I can't tell if I want that or would hate that.

Seeing Simon again after all these years has brought up a turmoil of feelings in me. I thought I had gotten over him years ago, resigning myself to the fact that I'd likely never see him again. But then he walked back into my life, bringing those old feelings along with him.

Teaching him has been kind of difficult because I don't want to push him too far or make him feel uncomfortable by touching him too much. A lot of my instruction has been solely verbal, which is a struggle for him, but he keeps showing up anyway.

I should suggest that he find a different swim instructor, but I can't seem to find the words to do so. I don't want it to seem like I'm pushing him away, and if I'm being completely honest, I like spending this time with him and am not ready to see him walk back out of my life.

It's stupid, I know, but as long as he still wants to come, I'm going to let him.

***

Simon

"Who is that?" Sam says a couple of weeks later, loud enough that even Cal looks up from the cookies they were carefully decorating with rainbow stripes. We've been struggling to keep the baked goods that they've been decorating for pride month in stock for more than a couple of hours each day no matter how many I bake or they decorate.

I look up at the door to see who has just walked in and am shocked to see Baz here.

"Uh, that's my swim instructor," I murmur. They all already know I've been taking swim lessons, but it's still embarrassing to admit.

"Damn, he's hot," Sam says, only a little quieter this time. "I would have take swim lessons too if I'd known the instructor was going to look like him."

"Don't you have a girlfriend?" Tish asks from behind the register, where she's ringing up a young girl who is politely pretending not to be listening in to our admittedly too loud conversation.

"Yeah," Sam replies, "but I can still look."

I shake my head and turn my attention back to Baz who has joined the line to order. His hair is down today, falling in loose waves a few inches past his shoulder. I hadn't realized how long it was because he's always got it pulled up into a bun when we're in the pool. It looks really nice like this.

Tish clears her throat, and I jump. "Perhaps we should all get back to work," she says, looking pointedly at me and Sam. I nod and turn to help Cal with a few cookies watching Baz from the corner of my eye.

I can't believe that Baz is here. In my bakery. Well, mine and Tish's bakery. We opened it together a few years ago. But still, what is he doing here?

"I think he's watching you," Cal murmurs with a knowing smile after a couple of minutes have passed, right before Tish says, "Hey, Simon, will you cover the cash register while I make these coffees?"

It's obvious what she's doing, but I play along anyway. Baz is second in line now, and I force myself to keep my eyes off of him until he's standing directly in front of me.

"What can I get for you today?" I ask. At least, that's what I mean to say. Instead, it comes out more like, "What are you doing?"

God, I'm an idiot. No wonder Baz hates me. I can't even talk to him without making a fool of myself.

He raises an eyebrow at me, and one corner of his mouth turns up in an amused version of that oh-so familiar smirk that has my heart skipping a beat.

"My friend was telling me about this place, and I thought I would stop by and try it. I had no idea that you worked here."

"Actually, he owns the place," Tish says from somewhere behind me, apparently not too busy to eavesdrop on our conversation.

"Wow." Both of his eyebrows raise now. "That's cool."

I nod. "I'm not that stupid boy from high school anymore."

The corners of Baz's mouth turn down, and I wish I could stuff the words back into my mouth. Why can't I speak around him?

"I never thought you were stupid. I just thought you could have applied yourself a little more."

"Right." I don't want to get into this. Our past is messy, and I don't really want to relive high school right now. "So, what I can get for you?"

He pauses briefly, and for a moment, it looks like he wants to say something more but seems to think better of it. He orders some really sweet coffee that only Tish knows how to make and one each of our pride cupcakes and cookies.

Tish manages to wait until Baz has finished eating and left before confronting me, but as soon as the door closes behind him, she's dragging me into the kitchen and demanding answers.

"What's going on with you and Baz? And do not say he's just your swim instructor. Clearly, there's more to it than that."

I shrug, my go-to response when I don't know how to talk about something. I try anyway because Tish is my best friend, besides Penny.

"We went to high school together. I had a crush on him but never told him. We haven't seen each other in years. And now he's teaching me to swim. That's it."

"That's not it. There was some serious tension between y'all. Do you still like him?"

I shrug, then nod. Of course, I do. He's gorgeous and kind and funny, and I don't think I ever really got over him. But I know he could never like me back. To him, I'm still that immature boy who drove him mad in school. And now, the boy who never learned to swim.

Tish shakes her head at me. "I love you, but you can be really thick sometimes."

"What are you talking about?"

"That guy likes you. You should have seen the look on his face when he saw you behind the counter. I don't even know how to describe it."

I want to argue with her, but I know it's pointless. She may not be into romantic relationships herself, but she's really knowledgeable when it comes to this kind of thing.

It's hard to believe her, though. Why would Baz like me?

Baz

I don't stray far when I leave Simon's bakery. I end up walking aimlessly around a small bookstore a couple shops down from it, but my mind is still at the bakery, watching Simon in his element, joking with his friends and relaxing in a way that he hasn't been in the water these past few weeks.

Maybe it was selfish of me not to tell him to find a new swim instructor. I thought that we could work through our past, but if he can't even be comfortable around me, there's no way I will be able to teach him.

Coming to that conclusion, I head back out onto the sidewalk and towards the bakery. There isn't a line this time, and Simon isn't behind the counter anymore. I could still turn back. But I don't.

The girl with the blue streaks in her hair is being the counter, and when she sees me, she rushes through a door to the back. A couple moments later, she comes back, Simon following behind her.

"Hey," he says slowly, tensely.

This is going to hurt like hell, but it's the kind thing to do. I have to let him go and quit holding on to my crush for him.

"Can we talk for a moment?" I ask.

His brows furrow, but he nods. "I'll be right back," he murmurs. Then he makes his way around the counter towards me.

Aware that his coworkers are watching and probably listening, I take a few steps away from the counter.

"Listen, I've been thinking about it, and I think that you should find a new swim instructor."

"What? Why?" He sounds hurt, but I'm probably imagining it.

"You obviously aren't comfortable around me, and I think you would be better off with someone else teaching you."

He doesn't say anything, just stares at me.

"I'm sorry, Simon," I say, then turn to go. I barely make it a step before he grabs my wrist and pulls me back around.

"Wait. I don't understand. I thought things were fine. I thought I was getting better."

"You are. I just think you would be better with someone you can be comfortable around."

"It's not that I'm not comfortable around you. I just—." He hesitates briefly, and his voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I'm afraid."

"Of me?"

"No," he says quickly, shaking his head. "Of my feelings for you."

It's my turn to be stunned into silence. His feelings for me? What is he talking about?

"I like you, and I was afraid that you would find out. That's probably why I've seemed so closed off around you."

I don't know what to say, but I don't think words are necessary at this point. His hand is still on my wrist, so I bring my free hand up to cup his cheeks and with paper rainbows dancing above us, I kiss him.

Simon

I should probably be at least a little bit concerned about kissing someone in the place I work, but I can't seem to find it in me to care in this moment.

Because I'm kissing Baz. The boy I never thought would like me.

I don't think he knows it's my birthday, but he's just given me the best birthday present ever.

#simon snow #baz pitch #carry on #co/ws/awtwb #the simon snow series #rainbow rowell #happy birthday simon snow #snowbaz #snowbaz fic #my writing #swimming and baking

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