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mxpseudonym · 3 years

Text

The Department of Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Reader Gender Expression: She/her pronouns and wifey

Summary: Tommy's wife is just all about this man.

Length: 756 words (allegedly)

Warnings: none

A/N: I found this in my drafts and thought it was so light and cozy! I hope you snuggle up with it 😚

"I miss your handwriting."

Tommy looked up from work on his desk to his wife. She was wrapped in a robe and half-asleep in front of him.

She'd woken up in the middle of the night to find him missing for the third time that week. If he'd been there when she made the realization, he'd see her roll over, mutter incoherent curses, then stumble from the bed to the door.

It wasn't pleasant.

She went from a dream state to feeling the cold, hardwood against her bare feet. The echoes of her pattering combined with thuds from bumping into furniture guided her along the familiar path to the downstairs office. Meanwhile, her eyes watered, trying to pry themselves open and adjust to the low light in the house at the same time.

She never quite barged into his office and asked when he was coming to bed. It was more about her than anything, wasn't it? It was her problem that she insisted on sleeping near him, in the same room, no matter the room.

She'd slink in and clear her throat when the smoky, tobacco-filled air hit her lungs. It was always more potent when Tommy was cooped up, no door or window left open to disturb him or to ventilate. Then she'd take a lap around the room, seeing what had changed since her last time there. Tommy's eyes would follow her for a moment before falling to the clock on his desk that told him he'd meet the sun in only a few hours, then back to his work. Eventually, his wife would find herself something like a book or an old newspaper followed by a space wherever he had room for her- the couch, the floor near the fire, the window sill. Tonight, she settled on reading notes from a meeting he had earlier that week about overseas stocks and tucking a leg under herself to get cozy in one of the chairs across from him. They'd been perfectly silent in a way Tommy found deeply enjoyable until she uttered that statement.

"What was that?" he asked.

"I miss your handwriting," she repeated, though this time, her words were laced with a yawn. "You started having your secretary write everything, or you'll use one of the new typewriters. But I can read you so well when you write by hand," she said, flipping to a new page and skimming her fingers over the scrawlings.

"You don't know much about this topic, so you took more notes than usual. You liked the person you were meeting with then because you let them see you take notes. You still doodle though, that's nice. I think you stopped for tea here." She pointed to a place where he'd clearly stopped in the middle of a sentence then picked up his pen to continue again sometime. Clear to her, anyway.

"I should tell Churchill to hire you. My wife's the best damn detective around," Tommy chuckled.

He was only half kidding. It was impressive how well his partner in this world knew him. Sometimes he wondered how it happened. Was he so easy to read? But it was only her who seemed to know every little thing. His wife nodded deeply, then looked back at the notes.

"Oh yes, I'll head the Department of Tommy Shelby. Unfortunately, my passion for forensics begins and ends with you," she said with a chuckle.

"Am I a pastime of yours?" He asked, capping his pen. It was about time he wrapped up anyhow.

"In ways. I like knowing more about you. The things you write and say. The things you don't write, and you don't say. I suppose I like to wonder about you too after all these years."

Tommy locked away his folders and gave his desk a final glance. He walked around his desk and pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"It can't be good, you staying up like this," he murmured. The concern was admittedly lacking. He liked that his wife came for him. He liked having her around, whether it was late night rendezvouses at home or her keeping him in line at the office.

"Well, I know you get busy, and I don't want to pressure you. But I don't want to feel far from you either," she admitted. She let her cheek press against his shoulder. "You're also entertaining to observe, especially when you get really passionate about your dealings."

"Can't complain. I've been leading the Department of Mrs. Shelby for ages."

"Don't I know it," She agreed. "I still have no idea how you always manage to buy my favorite flowers when my mind changes so often."

"And I'll never tell." Tommy stroked her back as they fell into quiet. "Alright, time for bed."

In a moment, he was pushed hard against the desk. The sweet moment turned into Tommy catching the woman he loved as she dropped all of her weight on him.

"Christ, love,"

"Tommy," she whined, yet to be swayed to stand upright. "Carry me."

"Mrs. Department Head, please let me know what I've done to make you think I could do such a thing at this time of night. I will stop immediately." Tommy grunted, attempting to stop her from crumpling to the floor. There was a pause before he felt her rumbling before letting out a gasp. She picked herself up and leaned back.

"You're right, old man. Don't push yourself."

She patted his shoulder while riding out a fit of laughter that made him glower at her the best he could without laughing himself. He turned her by her shoulders and moved them towards the door.

"That's enough. Let's get some rest."

#Cuties #Tommy Shelby x Reader #tommy shelby fluff #Tommy Shelby Imagine #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders fic #Peaky Blinders Imagine #Tommy Shelby Fic

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obxlife · 4 years

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In Need of Help (Pope x Reader)

A/N: Okay, so I had this idea for Pope and I knew I had to write it! I just feel like it’s very sweet and soft and idk. Plus, it has an enemy to lovers trope, which I personally love. Also, the valedictorian and salutatorian at my school are also dating and I just got that idea from them lol.

Word Count: 3,513

Request: -

Summary: Pope finds himself with some trouble regarding his scholarship work, and he knows he can’t turn to his friends for this. Instead, he sucks up his pride and turns to you, the runner up for the Lucas T Vanderhorst Merit Scholarship. Oh, and his enemy regarding academics.

Warnings: Mild swearing.

IN NEED OF HELP

Pope was in trouble. Not serious trouble like JJ regarding his dad or John B in relation to the DCS and basically being homeless. No, Pope was in trouble in a way that may almost seem absurd.

He was struggling with his goddamn scholarship essay. And the worst part of it all was that he had technically already won the scholarship.

See, this was just a follow-up essay he had to do to ensure he was not going to be ripped apart from the opportunity of actually getting the scholarship. And it had been the hardest essay he had to write. Mainly because it asked for more of a story instead of focusing on a scientific topic, and Pope had always struggled with that.

The paper he was writing his draft on was filled with eraser marks and little doodles around the edges. Most of the doodles were of things he could see. His eraser, his pinky finger, his cup of water on his desk. There was only one he wasn’t really sure why he had drawn. It was the one object that was not in the room with him at that instant, and the worst part of it all was that he truly hated it. What had he drawn? You.

For some reason, Pope had drawn you onto the edge of his paper. He didn’t really understand why he had because, as mentioned before, he hated you with a passion that ran so deep in his veins it was a part of who he was. Pope could not be himself if he didn’t hate you, and it was just the same for you. You couldn’t be yourself if you didn’t hate Pope.

Pope began to rub his pencil over the small drawing of your face, wanting nothing more than to get you out of his head. He hated that he had drawn you of al people, and he hated how stuck he was on this stupid essay.

Pope hadn’t realized how much force he was using to press his pencil into the paper until he ripped it. Throwing his pencil down, Pope sighed and pressed his hands to his head, stretching in his seat.

“That’s it,” he said to himself before grabbing the papers from his desk, his pencil, his eraser, and his pencil sharpener into his backpack. He then grabbed the folder that had arrived through the mail and gently took it into his hands. Pope turned outside of his room and headed towards the shop in front of his house.

His father was behind the counter, checking an old lady out.

“Dad,” Pope called out to him from the door. “I’m heading out.”

The older man froze. He thought he had told his son to work on his scholarship. “I thought I told you to work on your scholarship. Now you know I don’t want you slacking around -”

“I know, I know,” Pope told him. “I just need to clear my head. I’m going over to John B to see if my friends can help.”

“Look here, boy,” Heyward called out to his son while pointing his finger out. Pope stood at the door, on hand already pushing it open. “What are your friends going to help with? They’re all a bunch of good-for-nothings.”

Pope sighed, only shaking his head and turning towards the outside, throwing a “Later, Pops” over his shoulder. The hot afternoon air made Pope’s body break into a sweat, but Pope didn’t mind as he headed deeper into the Cut towards John B’s fishing shack.

The Chateau stood mighty and tall before the marsh and surrounding it were Pope’s friends. JJ was laying across the hammock sipping on a beer and a joint in his hand while Kie lay opposite of him, playing the ukelele. John B was nowhere to be seen, which meant he was probably inside.

“Hey, guys,” the dark-haired boy called out to the pair. He smiled as he saluted them with their usual handshake before taking a seat in one of the broken-down chairs. Pope set his backpack on the ground, careful not to fold the papers in his hands.

“What you got there, Pope?” JJ asked curiously. Pope knew what he held in his hands would not interest JJ, so he told the boy straight out what it was.

“Scholarship stuff.”

Indeed, JJ shrugged and turned around, bringing the joint back to his lips to take another drag of it. Kie, instead, showed interest in the papers held between Pope’s fingers.

“What do you have to do this time? Another essay about something science-y?” she wondered.

Pope nodded but then shook his head. “Sort of. It’s an essay but they want a story. But I don’t know what to write about. Like, most of the stuff we do is illegal.”

Kie laughed at this before saying, “Then lie. Just take the illegal parts out.”

“Hard to do when they’re essential to the story,” Pope replied.

Now JJ laughed, smiling at Pope and diving into one of the many illegal memories they had made together.

While this helped Pope clear his head, it was not guiding him as to what to write for his essay. After about an hour or two hanging out, Pope sighed, knowing he would now have to work on the essay.

“Okay guys, I need y’all to be serious right now. I really need to get this essay done. Any ideas?”

Kie and JJ stared at him blankly, not really knowing how to help. Pope groaned at their reaction, but then groaned even louder when Kie said:

“Why don’t you ask Y/N Y/L/N? Wasn’t she second place for the scholarship?”

“Kie, I literally hate her. We’ve been competing over the top spot in our grade for our whole lives.”

Kie shrugged. “Yeah, but now the scholarship is yours anyway. And besides, didn’t you say the only thing she was better at than you is story writing?”

“I said that when I was drunk,” Pope deadpanned.

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t true,” JJ said quickly before taking another sip of beer.

Pope really didn’t want to go see you. He had way too much pride to do so. But his options were wearing thin and he had to send this essay in a week, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to do so himself.

“Well, even if I went to Y/N, I doubt she would be willing to help.”

Kie gave him a hard look. “You don’t know that.”

“Neither do you, Kie,” Pope sighed. “Look, I’ll go to her but she probably hates my guts. I did take the scholarship from her.”

“Hey!” JJ scolded. “Don’t say that, man. We know you won it fair and square. You deserve it.”

“I know I did. But that doesn’t mean she won’t hate me for it. We all know she needs that scholarship just as much as I do to get into college.”

It was true. You had lived your life down in the Cut, working just as much as Pope did with his father. Your mother was the owner of a small boat repair shop which she had received after your father’s death. Because she couldn’t and didn’t know how to work on boats and because your father had taught you everything you know, you were the head repair woman there. Everyone on the island knew how much time you dedicated to the shop, almost as much time as you dedicated to school.

“Look, man. Let’s be real. Everyone born on the Cut knows they’re probably going to be stuck here forever. You and Y/N were just lucky to have the opportunity to might have not been stuck here, but in the end, you got it. I’m sure she won’t be bitter towards you because she probably still expected her life to be spent on the Cut either way.”

Pope sighed. He knew what JJ was saying was probably true but he hated to think of that.

“Just go to her, Pope,” Kie told him.

With that, Pope collected his belongings and headed out towards your shop. It wasn’t far from the Chateau, maybe a five-minute walk, but Pope managed to get there in thirty minutes. He was trying to push back the inevitable.

Once he arrived he stood outside for another good ten minutes, building up his courage to go in. Breathing in deeply, he told himself that he was going to be fine and that your hate for him had probably dissipated a bit since the end of the school year. He opened the door to the shop and found it was empty except for two men looking down at the bottom of a boat.

They didn’t turn around when Pope had entered, too concentrated on the person Pope just now saw that was under the boat.

“What you thinkin’?” one of the men asked as you pushed yourself from out under the boat. The skateboard you were laying upon was uncomfortable and your muscles sighed in relief as you stood up next to them.

“We’re gonna need two orders of plugs from Guffy and then we can start working on this bad boy,” you told them before wiping your forehead. “Well, I’m off, boys.”

And just as you spun around your eyes fell upon the boy at the door.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Pope could only smile innocently, hoping you would spare him some time of day.

“What do you want, Heyward?” you asked rudely while heading towards the back of the shop. Pope began to follow you around, sparing a glance at the two men you stared at him dirtily.

Pope was sure you hated him now.

“Look, I-I need your help, Y/N. And I know you hate me but I really need it.”

Anger and pain were laced in your eyes as you spun around to face the dark-skinned boy. “Yes, I do hate you. And I don’t want to help you. You took the scholarship from me, Pope.”

“Well, technically I didn’t. I won it. But,” he raised his hands in defense when you gave him another murderous look, “I seriously need your help. They gave me a task I know you’re better at than me and I don’t know what to do.”

You began to tie your hair into a ponytail as you felt your skin grow hot with anger. “So what? You thought you would just strut in here and I’d be willing to help?”

“N-no, but I thought -”

“You thought what? That out of the kindness of my heart I would actually help you? Need I remind you that you took the scholarship from me?”

“I didn’t take the scholarship from you! I won it, fair and square and you know that!”

Your eyes fell to the ground, defeated. You knew what Pope was saying was true, but the denial had helped you cope with the fact that you weren’t enough for the scholarship. You weren’t enough to get out of the Cut.

“Look, Y/N,” Pope began awkwardly. He was scratching the back of his neck, not sure if he was going to be able to get you to help him. “I know you wanted the scholarship - hell, you probably wanted it more than me. And I’m sorry you didn’t get it because you truly deserve it, but I’m not sorry that I got it. And I know that’s selfish, but let’s be real here. We both want to get off the Cut, and we always knew that only one of us was going to make it. So please, please, please help me get out of this place.”

You thought about it. Really hard. And Pope stood before you fidgeting with his fingers and doubting if what he said was the best thing he could have said. He opened his mouth, a rant about to burst through his lips.

“Fine,” you stated. You were going against your instinct, but at least you would get him to shut up. “I’ll help you. But I get free groceries for a month.”

Pope stuttered before answering. “What - you - I - you know I can’t do that! My dad would kill me!”

“Well then, you’ll have to pay with your own money.”

“Okay, fine! But only because I’m really desperate.”

****************************************************************

And so you and Pope began to work together every day for the following week. It only took two hours for you to drop your grudge against him and laugh at his stories and jokes. He would smile at your reactions and feel his previous hate for you to slip into something more similar to love. He began to notice how pretty your eyes were when they seemed to sparkle in the afternoon light and how your skin reminded him of warm summer days. You began to notice how your stupid hatred for him began to transform into a crush. His chocolate brown eyes reminding you of coffees on chilly, winter mornings and his soft smile reminding you of innocence.

Between your hours spent working together, you would talk about other things. You told him about your mother and her disease (which didn’t let her work at the shop with you) and how your friends at school were all out of town because of a road trip they had planned which you couldn’t go on. He told you about the Pogues and the pressure he felt sometimes from his dad. You both told each other a lot more than you had ever expected to share, but the feeling of comfort and understanding that followed these confessions was enough to maintain the both of you stuck together.

Exactly a week after Pope had approached you at your boat shop, you both headed together to the post office that was near the police station. Together you sealed the envelope containing the finished essay and placed the post stamps onto it. You watched Pope pay for the dispatch of the letter and then you walked out together.

You felt dread in your stomach, not wanting to have to turn your back on your new friendship. You didn’t know if Pope felt the same way as you did, but you felt like you had come to the end of your short relationship. You felt as if, years from now, you would look back and remember Pope as the boy you only helped write an essay and nothing more, which made you afraid to no end. You didn’t want Pope to be only that.

Unbeknownst to you, Pope felt the same way. He was expecting you to turn towards him and say goodbye, followed by a snarky remark. He expected you to go back to hating him and not thinking about him. All he wanted was you to prove him wrong.

“Do you want to grab something to eat?” you both asked at the same time. Then, your eyes widened at the same time, both of you shocked that you wanted to carry on with your friendship.

“Wait, you still want to hang out?” you asked him. Pope nodded vigorously.

“Yeah. Did you really think I wouldn’t want to be your friend anymore?” he asked, a little hurt.

“Shut up, you thought that about me as well!”

With smiles on both of your faces, you turned around towards the Wreck, where you knew Kie would give Pope a discount.

**********************************************

The Pogues hadn’t seen their smart friend for a month. Ever since JJ and Kie had convinced him of reaching out to you for help, he had disappeared.

“Pope pulling a Houdini,” JJ remarked as he arrived at the Chateau to find that, once again, Pope was not there.

“Have you guys even heard from him?” John B asked.

JJ shrugged but Kie bit her lip. “I see him at the Wreck every once in a while. He’s been hanging around with Y/N.”

“Y/N?” John B said almost laughing. “Okay, we both know they hate each other and that’s a lie.”

“I’m not lying, JB,” Kie rolled her eyes. “I literally saw them there yesterday.”

“No way! Pope has to be dating her!” JJ exclaimed. “It only makes sense! Future valedictorian and salutatorian.”

“That would make a cute couple,” John B muttered while thinking about it.

Kie coughed, trying to bring the boys’ attention back to the main issue they had. “Look, guys, we need to get Pope to hang out with us again. He’s been blowing us off and I do not have enough patience to keep you two from doing dumb shit.”

“Mama’s mad,” JJ whispered. This earned him a smack on the head of the girl.

“Let’s just head over to her shop and see if they’re there.”

*********************************************

“Wait, so JJ stole some boat plugs?”

Pope nodded, perched upon the edge of the boat you were working on. He was leaning back, a book in his lap, as he told you one of his many crazy stories about his friends.

“I don’t know why you asked for my help for the essay when you have so many stories to tell.”

Pope sighed. “As I’ve said before, most of them are illegal.”

You nod your head at what he was saying, agreeing with him. You continued to work on the boat as you felt his eyes upon you.

Pope was looking at your eyes at first. He was counting how many flecks of color they held. Then, he moved onto your skin, noticing how smooth it looked. He wondered if it would feel smooth against his fingers, or if your mouth would feel smoother. He then noticed how plump your lips looked, and Pope could feel himself leaning closer to you.

“Y/N?” he called out so softly you almost didn’t hear him.

You spun your head to look at him, suddenly noticing how small the distance between the both of you had become. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach and you wondered if he felt them too. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could only wait until his lips were pressed to yours.

Feeling nervous, Pope began to speak. “I d-don’t want this to be awkward but I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while.”

You nodded your head, inching even closer to him. His lips looked a little chapped, but you were sure that it wouldn’t matter once you kissed him.

“And I don’t know if you feel the same or if you -”

“Shut up, Pope,” you giggled before plunging forwards. You pressed your lips to his own, moving them and giving him a few seconds to respond. When he did you smiled a little before continuing what you were doing. Your arms reached up to hold his face while his arms brought you closer to him and positioned you between his legs. Pope’s thumb was drawing circles right at your waist, and you finally broke apart from him when the door of the shop opened.

You didn’t break eye contact with Pope, but a sudden loud whoop made you stumble away from each other. Spinning around you found JJ, John B, and a girl you recognized as a Kook standing before you. You were frozen in place as Pope headed over to them to cover up JJ’s lips.

“Pope boy finally getting some action!” John B hollered while you felt your cheeks go red. The girl rolled her eyes at his friend before sending you an apologetic look.

It only took Pope three seconds to round them up and take them outside. You got back to working on the boat, trying to distract yourself from what had happened. You felt embarrassment rise up inside of you at being caught kissing the boy you liked.

Soon enough, Pope returned inside and stood next to you. You didn’t turn to look at him in shame and fear at what he might say.

“They wanted to see me since, you know, I haven’t been hanging around them recently.”

“Oh.” This was the moment Pope was going to tell you he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore and that he had now noticed how you were all too time-consuming. However, the boy surprised you.

“They invited us to hang out tomorrow. They said they want to meet you.”

You smiled and turned to look at him. “Really?”

“U-um, yeah. They kind of think you’re my girlfriend so…”

You blushed at that thought. Being Pope’s girlfriend was something that made your insides swell and feel light and soft and good.

“Okay.”

“Okay as in ‘yes, I want to hang out with them’ or as in ‘yes, I want to be your girlfriend’?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Is that your way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

Pope awkwardly nodded before looking at you. The smile on your face seemed to be glued on and Pope copied your facial expression. You leaned in again, kissing him softly.

“Take your guess, Pope,” you teased him while smiling.

“I really hope it’s the second one.”

#outer banks #obx #obx netflix #pope heyward #jonathan daviss

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babblydrabbly · 5 years

Text

In the Margins (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Rating: General

Word Count: 1k+

Warning(s): None

Summary/Prompt: Set at Avengers’ Compound. Steve finds a rough draft from one of your notebooks. Avengers!Reader.

---

Steve hadn’t thought anything of it. He knew you’d been sitting at the common room table that morning. You were talking to Tony, who no doubt brewed up the coffee wafting over from the connected kitchen minutes before. Steve pour himself a mug as the two of you had laughed it up about something, hardly noticing him.

Steve decided not to interrupt, and shuffled off. He checked his emails, took a walk around the compound. Apart from quietly observing a unit of SHIELD recruits training on the grounds, it was a rare, relatively Avengless day.

And it wasn’t until he came back to put his cup in the sink that he saw something on the floor where you had been sitting. Stark wasn’t working on anything that Steve could remember (Tony Stark rarely bothered using pen and paper). It must have been yours.

He bent to pick it up and asked FRIDAY where in the compound you were right now when he suddenly stopped short. With a passing glance, Steve saw whatever was on the page had been repeated over and over-- A narrow set of stanzas. A poem? He wondered.

Steve glance up around the room coyly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he looked back down at your familiar handwriting. He’d get an earful for reading anything of yours still in progress. Still, he couldn’t help skimming the first few lines.

Steve had started walking to your room as he read, his legs half on auto pilot to get to you. He got about halfway through the poem when his smile fell, his brows drawing together in a tight furrow. Then he read it all again.

---

Your work really was a mess. You flipped through a few of your current books, looking for something you’d been working on a few days ago. You dabbled in poetry once in awhile-- Nothing too insightful. It really was just a hobby you kept in the margins of paperwork, on loose leaf amongst your notebooks. In between mission debriefs and dossiers, any one of the avengers could pick out your paperwork from the endless, absent doodles all over them. Sometimes you shared limericks with Tony or Barton to get a laugh out of them. You just had yesterday morning in the kitchen. Tony teased you about the state of your current journal, reminding you that your Stark-grade tablet and FRIDAY could save you all the trouble of crumpled papers and hairbrained notes.

“I like to write it out.” You explained. “Helps me… get the words out better.”

Tony barked a laugh as you cringed at your own sentence.

“Right.” He said, “Real wordsmith.”

He chuckled again when you slammed your notebook closed and picked it up to smack him in the arm with it. From the corner of your eye, you could see Steve enter the kitchen a few yards away, and your heart gave a telling thud. You cleared your throat, leaning down to pick up some of the papers. Tony caught sight of the super soldier as well and rolled his eyes. You wanted to smack him again.

“I will slap those waggling eyebrows of yours right off your face.” You threatened in a low voice, but the two of you simply burst into chortling laughter all over again. And then, Steve was gone.

And now here you were, about to slap your own face for not checking under the kitchen table before packing up to get to that meeting that morning. Meeting room, you thought. Maybe you’d left it there.

You weren’t too concerned. It was a private base. But most things that weren’t important got swept into a vacuum bag by the compound’s little army of roombas. It was just a dumb draft.

You tossed a stack of folders onto your mess of a desk and decided to cut your losses when a knock sounded at your bedroom door. You got up and rested your palm on the handle when a muffled, “Y/N?” Came through. You paused, your heart skipping another beat. This hopeless crush of yours was going to land you with a heart condition.

When you opened the door, Steve was standing a few noticeable feet away. You would have never noticed before, except there was something in his hands that suddenly felt like a huge object between you. It didn’t take a close look to see it was what you’d been looking for all day.

“Hey, Steve?” You started. You suddenly felt your cheeks threatening to flush. Just because he read it doesn’t mean he knows it’s about him, you immediately told yourself. He probably didn’t even read it!

Then why is he here?

“What’s up?” You tried again when he didn’t say anything. Well, it looked like he was about to try, until you opened your mouth again.

“I--” Steve began. He hesitated. You didn’t think you’d ever see the captain do that. Now your cheeks were on fire, and you weren’t really sure why. There’s no way he could know, was there?

“I’m sorry.” He said, and held up the folded note over casually. You watched a small smile finally form on his lips. He shoulders dipped. You felt yourself relax too.

“I found this in the kitchen. I’m pretty sure it’s yours.” You reached out and took the poem from him.

“Did you read it?” You asked, and Steve’s smile spread into an apologetic grin.

“Yeah. I did.” He conceded. “I know you’re not a fan of sharing. At least not until you’re ready. I’m not either.”

You looked down and unfolded the paper to find not just your poem, but something more. In the margins of the paper were drawings. Leaves, of all shapes and sizes, being swept across the page in an invisible wind. Like in the poem you had written, of what the day was like when you met Steve Rogers a few autumns before. You’d just been transferred to the upstate compound. He’d been on a run, while you’d been on a walk. You hadn’t said two words to each other then but now...

“I read it a lot yesterday.” He suddenly said, and you remembered where you were. Here, now.

You swallowed.

“Oh.” You didn’t know what to say.

“You remembered it just like I did.” Steve said. Your heart skipped a beat. Okay, you were definitely talking about the same thing. But now Steve didn’t look so sure.

“That is, if that’s what it’s about.” He corrected. You saw a line form between his brows, his hands going straight to his pockets like he did when he wasn’t sure where to look or what to say. The poem crinkled in your hands as you wrang at it.

More silence. Then, he opened his mouth just as you you interjected. “--It is! It is. I just, uh. I didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Oh.” He replied, his voice quiet.

“You’re just--” You tried to remedy. “Busy, you know? You’re one of my closest friends here-- When you’re here-- It’s just—”

You wanted to say ‘nothing’. But that wasn’t true. And here was your chance to tell him that. Cut from the same cloth, birds of the same, awkward feather-- Whatever you called the two of you-- You didn’t want to dance around it anymore. You stepped into the hallway, giving either end a glance before taking the end of his jacket toward your door. Steve followed the gentle tug without resistance, his eyebrows shooting up as you stopped the both of you just inside your room.

“I’m kind of glad you found it.” You murmured, pushing up on your toes towards Steve’s face.

You felt a broad arm wrap around you tentatively, but his gaze found yours with a steady certainty that made the heat in your cheeks spread to your chest, then to the rest of you. Steve leaned down, his lips pressing to yours in a warm, chaste kiss. You kissed him back, thankful for paper notebooks and written words.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #captain america x reader #avengers x reader #avengers x you #mywords*

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blankdblank · 5 years

Text

Back Again Pt 3

Pt 1 - Pt 2

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @abiwim, @jotink78, @c-s-stars, @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @thequeenoferebor

…

Curiously your eyes focused on the large bright green demantoid garnet square stone surrounded by six other square black opals wrapped in lines of diamonds resting on your finger. It sat underneath the simple courting band coated in etchings of ravens and Dwarven runes marking his name and clan markers you’d tearfully removed and dropped onto the floor in his angered shout to ‘just leave then and forget him and his kin’ before your turn to slam the door. The painful loss of that ring linking you to the only family you’d known stabbed greater than you’d ever imagined with the sound of its clink on that shining floor echoing in your mind almost daily since then. Wetting your lips you shifted and slid to the edge of the bed and brushed back the covers to walk through the house at the sounding of the doorbell after the text that had woken you.

Through the main hall you spotted Dis through the glass panes around the front door with a growing smile as you brushed your hair from your face and opened the door. “Dis, morning, did you want some tea?”

She shook her head, “No, sorry to wake you, just wanted to stop by real quick and possibly see if you could look at something for me?”

You nodded as she stepped inside the doorframe showing you the bound manuscript in her hands barely an inch thick and asked, “It’s called Tortimer the ornate wonder. Bit grand of a name but it really is adorable, little girl who finds an imaginary friend that takes her through her dream world after a Kelpie takes her. Really adorable, we got it a few weeks back and our illustrators really can’t find images that live up to the author’s expectations.” She wet her lips as you met her eyes again, “Now he dropped by yesterday and he spotted your picture in my office, simply demanded to work with only you.”

You nodded and claimed the book, “I’ll give it a read through, just the chapter illustrations and front intro pages?”

She nodded as her smile grew in passing you a worn folder containing pages of poor copies of sketches and doodles from the author after catching a glimpse of your rings. “From the author. Said you’d just know what to make of them.”

You smirked at her after flipping through them then met her gaze again, “Shouldn’t take me long too read through it. I’ll draft up what I can for him.”

She claimed a quick hug from you, “Thank you, so much! Let me know when you get a few and I’ll pass on copies to him, he’s scheduled a meeting at the end of the week. Eager, but at least he’s been patient with our team in waiting for a suitable illustrator.”

You smiled at her as she turned to head off to work, “Have a nice day. Go ahead and pass it on to him if he calls. I’ll keep you posted.” As she hopped into her car she gave you a wave as Vili was still hunched over securing the ties on his shoes in the passenger seat before he glanced up giving you a friendly wave. Waving back you slipped inside again and locked the door behind you on your path to start on your breakfast, ignoring the usual ache in your body adjusting to the new weight on your chest focusing on the manuscript.

By the time your plate was cleared you had a flurry of ideas flowing through your head. Quickly you rinsed your dishes and added them to the dishwasher then carried the papers to your bedroom. Against a stack of pillows you lounged with your tablet in your lap leaving your laptop Dis had gifted you, to help you upload your work to the company server aiding your work at home, beside you to save each of the images in order. A growl of your stomach signaled you to the lunch you nearly missed. Your tongue dipped out to wet your lips as you sent the last image to join the others you added to your account with a message you sent to Dis alerting her to the additions on your path to the kitchen.

By you return you read through her glowing review of the images along with the eager drop by the office the author had made leading him to tears nearly at your perfect renditions of the first half of the book. Ones that were soon joined by the second half by nightfall shifting the book to nearly double the size to add in the images the author demanded be included, wishes that the entire company agreed upon when seeing the skills of their new hire. Those images stirred up a race to go through your extensive list of books and company projects you had worked with leaving the entire team, including Dis, baffled at what you had grown capable of bringing to life since the last project you had seen completed before graduation had separated you.

The naming of your place in the company brought on a few of your former coworkers calling you and wishing you well in your new position after asking why you had been forced out of your spot. Unable to share that just yet you simply stated you were unwell and had to return home to be with family, the only response being their irritation at not giving them notice at having to take over your projects that soon cut off as a good number of clients left when they heard you had left the company.

With dinner time nearing the front door opened allowing Thorin inside to find you seated on your bed after moving the laptop and tablet to the dresser along the wall, grumbling as you tried to stretch your stiff back. An easy smile spread on his face as he paused in your doorway lowly rumbling, “Need a back rub?”

In a glance at the door you smiled up at him saying, “Yes, please. Spent too long in one position I think.”

Allowing his bag to slide form his shoulder he said, “Brought a few things, hope you don’t mind.” Setting it on the dresser on his way to sit behind you, leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek as his hands gently slid onto your shoulders.

“I don’t mind, thought you might be bringing more than just a bag with the ring you left me.”

Unable to contain his smile catching a glimpse of it when you retwisted your hair into another bun allowing him to see the muscles you had that had lost some of their size in your bed rest and recovery. “I wouldn’t assume I had the right to, no matter what I gifted you. I do hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t think of a better time to hand it over. Besides, by all accounts you should have had it by now if I hadn’t driven you away.”

Dipping lower onto your back you bit your lip at the sore knot his fingers hit, “By that logic I assume each gift giving holiday I’ll have mountains of gifts under that same explanation.”

“If that’s what you wish for.”

In a turn to face him you caught his loving gaze and weak chuckle at your playful glare, “You know I don’t want a mountain of gifts, you know that.” Through his low chuckle stirring from your hand gripping his collar to pull his forehead to rest against yours he nipped at his lip then released it to accept your kiss. Softly your hand eased around the side of his neck through the loving lip lock as his hands eased over your cheeks only to chuckle again at his drawing back.

In a purr he stated, “Your back Love.” A grumble came from you as you rolled your eyes and leaned in to steal another kiss when his hands lowered, gliding your arms around his neck while climbing onto his lap.

After a few minutes of fighting a losing battle against his own wish to hold you in the now heated tangling sprawl across you bed a low muffled growl sounded along your neck at the doorbell pulling him off of you as he said, “That’d be dinner.”

Furrowing your brows you sat up fixing your top asking, “Dinner?”

He smirked back at you, “Ordered it on my way over.”

Following him through the house you eyed the large order he and the delivery boy carried into the living room table before he paid and tipped the boy and showed him back out again. Back at your side he curled his hand around yours setting you on the couch saying, “Back rub Love. Then food and as many kisses as you like.”

Firmly his hands returned to your back and the knots he had yet to ease away, “How long have you had the ring?”

“It,” Weakly chuckling behind you he replied, “it’s the final design after a long line since graduation.”

“So you just kept working on it, after?”

He wet his lips behind you, “Part of my role in courtship is to honor my word to you. I promised you one of the rarest set of stones and designs I could find. I’d already secured the stones from my Uncle, before, and well I spent a decade working them off. Wasn’t till the past year I’d finally understood the design perfect for it. Your notes in psych, they all had that little doodle on them marking which columns you marked things in trying to keep your Dwarvish runes in line.”

In a scoffing chuckle you fired back, “I will have you know switching from Hobbitish to Khuzdul is not easy.”

He chuckled lowly, “I remember our lessons in Uni perfectly and every dent in the walls we made in our frustrating vocab lessons.”

“I’m certain it’s all gone now no doubt.”

Wetting his lips through his smirk he switched to Hobbitish, “I’ll have you know, out of spite Bilbo enforced our lessons on the whole family. Boys are fluent now too. Though names are a bit tricky.”

With a soft giggle you replied, “Figures, he was the best at enforcing studying habits. Except for when Dwalin wore those shorts of his.”

Thorin laughed behind you, “Ah, those, still has them.” Leaning in he lowly added, “Doesn’t think I know about him still having them tucked away.” Making you giggle again.

“They do make his thighs look incredible I bet still.”

You giggled again at Thorin’s chuckling lean in to kiss your cheek, “I am certain he would love to hear he’s still got his ‘honey thighs’ from someone other than his Hubby.”

In a firm pat on his legs beside yours he smirked as you said, “Why didn’t we ever get you a pair again?”

He chuckled replying, “Because you kept giving me that smile and my pants never really stayed on long enough for you to have enjoyed them.”

You nodded as his arms snaked around you when his hands had finally reached your hips, resting against his chest you stole a peck on his cheek, “Can I ask how the acorn’s holding up?”

After a nip at his lip he rumbled back, “Still intact. Dain demanded a touch up last year.”

“Demanded?” you fired back in a giggle.

Chuckling he replied, “Yes. Even my testicles are not free from his demand for his pristine condition on his work. Dwalin made sure I was cooperative.” You giggled again, “Frerin even stated you would want the marker of our shared secret intact when we got back together.”

“You, all planned us getting back together?”

Thorin nodded, “Bilbo even got time off in a few weeks, was going to go out there and find you. Demand you come home. The kids were going to be involved, pouting and crying until you agreed.”

“I don’t think it would have taken all that to get me back…”

“Did you enjoy it at least? Grey Havens?” His arms loosened helping you turn to start on the food.

“Um. I had a nice garden Lovely set of wind chimes. Drew in flocks of humming birds my neighbors hated, but I loved them, so beautiful. Work, was work.” His brow rose when he met your eye curiously, “I love my art, all the projects I have loved it, my boss, utter trash, but work I loved it.”

He smiled at you, “I did get a message from Dis on lunch to ask for a glimpse at what you’d done today for the project she left you.” His eyes scanned over you, “You are able to handle work right now?”

You nodded, “Ya, just got a bit wrapped into it. Habit with the old schedule. Used to get so many projects, had to go through novels in a matter of days.”

“Really? Can’t imagine you got much sleep.”

“I made time.”

He smirked at you, “Juice?” You nodded and watched him walk to the kitchen to fetch your drinks and return eyeing you rotating your shoulders, “Still sore?”

You shook your head, “No, just have to stretch and rotate them or they try to lock up when I sleep since bed rest.”

“I noticed you’re a bit slimmer.”

You nodded accepting the glass from him, “I’ll be happy when I can start exercise again. It’ll help with the new jiggly bits, and I’ll steady out again, not feel so helpless.”

Seated beside you he cupped your cheek stealing another kiss, “You have never been helpless.” Holding his adoring smile even through your eyes filling with tears, “I love you, and I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’re far from helpless.” Stroking his thumb across your cheek claiming the tears there, “You managed to illustrate for an entire children’s book today. In one day! Dis hasn’t been able to do that in a week most cases!” After a gentle kiss on your cheek he continued, “You are magnificent, and no one in that office could have imagined anyone being able to silence that man and his expectations.”

With a smirk you replied, “Bard really put a lot of work into it.”

“Ooh, do tell?” His smirk eased out as he filled your plate and then his own scooting a bit closer to you, letting you continue your old habit of laying your legs across his.

“It’s a bedtime story he told his daughters and Son after their Mom passed. Apparently Dis says he’s got a whole series he’s wanting to put out, just couldn’t find the right person to illustrate it.”

His smile inched out more through your explanation, “No wonder he’s so certain on wanting you for it. I can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with. Dis mentioned you’ve made quite a leap since uni.”

“Well I’ve had a lot of time to practice since I’m done with all that studying.”

“I bet, and all those hours you used to spend sleeping in your extra jobs, hell of an addition to your free practice time.”

“Exactly.” His smile grew as you gave him a playful smile and soft giggle.

When dinner was through you helped him clean up and followed him back to your room where he poured a bath for you as you pulled out a change of clothes. In the bathroom you set your clothes on the counter catching his smile as he stood from adding the oils to your bath in a glance over his layers he couldn’t help but smirk. “I know that look. That look got us nearly naked in that cabin.”

Smirking at him in return, “If I remember correctly I was not the only one giving a look. You did that whole, pouting smirk thing.” He shifted his face to try and remember the look as you giggled pointing at him, “Close.” Drawing his smile back, “Have to furrow the brow too.” Earning a chuckle from him, “And don’t think I didn’t hear the Boom from Frerin and you when we hit all those courting markers. Including when you first sat around me in class.”

He nodded and chuckled softly, “Ya, we haven’t, haven’t said Boom in ages it seems.”

Smiling at him you replied, “I miss the Boom.”

His smile grew moving closer to help you out of your shirt, “We’ll bring it back then.” Leaning in as he tossed the top onto the sink he pressed his lips to yours, “Just for you kurkarukê.”

Rolling your eyes you eased your hands around his neck as he stole another kiss and pressed his forehead to yours, “Would it be strange to ask if you’d join me?”

“Not strange at all.”

Pulling your head back you nipped at your lip before saying, “Cuz I sort of need help with my back and hair.” His smile grew, “You’re a bit broader, I can help with yours too if you like.”

He chuckled softly, claiming another kiss, “Only if you want to.” Leaning down he helped ease you out of your pants and panties while you undid your bra and tossed it onto your discarded tank top, stepping out of your clothes he added to the pile before starting to unbutton his shirt. As he eased it down he caught your lips purse in your inspecting his reflection in the mirror.

Your curious walk around him stirred a chuckle from him as he tossed his shirt away with yours and reached down to add his socks to the mix joining the pile. His hands paused when your fingers tapped your name across the rim of the anvil between twin ravens across his shoulders forming part of what would begin the family tree for you both under the seven stars, six black and one bright blue for his clan, to be added on with small hammers and axes for each pebble under the anvil.

Your soft sniffle caused him to turn and curl you in a tight hug. Against his shoulder you mumbled, “Dis saw the ring this morning.”

“I’m surprised I haven’t heard of it already.”

“It does look an awful lot like an engagement ring.” He couldn’t help at your slightly leading statement silently requesting a clarification.

“That’s because it is, if you’ll have me?”

“This isn’t just because of the Pebbles question?”

Pulling back he shook his head, “Not at all. I mean it, I want to have a family with you. No matter what, I’m yours.”

“I can keep you?”

He nodded purring back, “You can keep me.” Your smiles fought to grow nearly ending the kiss you pulled him into. In a momentary parting he said, “We should get you in the tub.”

As he let you down he claimed another kiss from you then turned you guiding you into the tub, lowering down behind you after moving the soaps within reach. Each gentle caress over you was thoughtfully given, assuring you were lovingly soaped and rinsed off, leaving it purely as his doting way of ensuring your every inch was cared for before moving to your side to carefully washing your hair for you. Curled against his chest after he braided your hair into a braid he twisted into a bun. You nipped at your lip when he helped you out and to dry off you slid your fingers along his asking, “You wouldn’t happen to have your ring still?”

Reaching up he wove his fingers into his hair in a tucked bun, with a hidden braid he drew out to unhook the ring from and passed it to you stirring your smile wider at the acorn and Hobbitish runes around the simple band marking your name and Mother’s clan markers. Carefully you slid it back into place on his ring finger widening his smile as you peered up at him and giggled softly through his crashing kiss he wrapped and lifted you in his arms carrying you to the sink where he helped you into another pair of pajamas and into the bedroom where he pulled on a new pair of boxer briefs and a pair of sweats over. Then grabbed all your dirty clothes to add to the clothes hamper and joined you on the bed, stealing another kiss from you before nipping his lip as you pulled up the first of the images drawing an audible gasp from him.

By the fourth chapter’s images your front door opened and Dis with a long stream of Durins behind her filled the house as she called out, “I know I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything until the morning, but, well, I lied. We’re here,” her eyes landed on you as she climbed onto the bed curling at your free side pulling you into a tight hug, “It’s long overdue. Officially, welcome to the family.” One by one they all claimed their own hugs and offered their dessert offerings between sharing their own Khuzdul sentiments and well wishes between your happy tears at the sudden family gathering.

Pt 4

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr

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bba-sae · 7 years

Text

The Great Backpack Switchup

@ushibakawaka: aww you’re too cute, this request wasn’t bad at all! I actually really loved it! Thanks for requesting, I hope you like it(:

Pairing: Mingyu/Reader

Genre: don’t be fooled by the summary, this is pure fluff

Word Count: 3K

Summary: In which a tampon, a notebook and a dildo lead Mingyu to his future girlfriend, or a sex addict, either is valid.

Author’s Note: I may have made this a lot weirder than I should but oh whales, I think it’s funny. Do you guys care for profanities by the way? I have a sailor’s mouth constantly, so I never really censor myself but if you guys want me to start putting in a warning please let me know! I don’t want to offend anyone! And just a side note: I’m not going to be able to write every request I get, just because I don’t get inspiration to write from the scenarios that are requested. Don’t be offended! I just suck at being creative sometimes. I do keep the idea in my drafts just in case an idea suddenly pops into my head!

“Dude, is that a tampon?” Dokyeom asked from his desk beside his friend, a sly smile creeping on his face, ready to torment the boy. Mingyu’s eyes trace his arm, down his bicep, forearm and to his hand which was holding a white wrapped contraption like a pencil over his paper. A gasp escapes his lips, dropping the tampon immediately, hands and body staying away from the masculinity killing item as he could.

“What the fuck.” Mingyu mumbles, hands rubbing against each other as if the object had burned through his skin. Dokyeom and Minghao are already falling from their chairs, laughing hysterically at the situation at hand. Mingyu, however, is flooded with confusion, trying to pinpoint exactly where he had grabbed that, thing. “I meant to grab a pencil.”

“Looks like you’re having more issues than just a lack of pencils buddy.” Minghao pats Mingyu’s back, still giggling, “Do you need Advil or something? My girlfriend tells me coconut water is good for cramps.”

Mingyu sends a death glare to his friend, the look searing through the red head’s skull, anger bubbling through his body. Mingyu takes the pencil from Minghao’s desk and pokes the tampon back into backpack-which past experience have informed him that it’s clearly not his in the first place.

“Why are you acting like that thing will kill you? You won’t die from touching it.” Dokyeom questions, pushing the tampon the rest of the way into the bag.

“Isn’t it, unsanitary?” Mingyu looks at Dokyeom’s hand, almost disgusted. Clearly, Mingyu didn’t understand girls as much as he had claimed to. He begins searching through the bag, pulling out a pretty yellow pencil case that definitely didn’t belong to him.

“It hasn’t even been used, you’re being ridiculous. You’re acting twelve.” Mingyu stops listening to his friend, earning an eye roll from Dokyeom. The boy is too occupied by pulling out the contents of the bag to listen to a lecture. It didn’t take long, with Mingyu’s arm stuffed into the back pack, blindly reaching around the bottom, until he felt something rather peculiar. His hand wrapped around it, his thumb sliding over what felt like a silicone button.

Vibrating.

His hand was vibrating.

Why was it vibrating.

The sound seemed to echo against the canvas, and all three boys eyes dart to the bag. Their faces scrunch up in confusion, heads tilt trying to figure out what exactly that was.

“Is that their phone?” Minghao asks, Mingyu shakes his head almost too violently.

“It doesn’t feel like a phone,” the boy replies getting an idea of the item he was holding, already wanting to burn his hand off even more.

“Take it out of the bag.” Dokyeom prods, catching on to Mingyu’s clear nervousness. A sly smirk rests on his face, a laugh already forming in his stomach.

“I don’t want to.” Mingyu replies meekly, not really sure why he had his hand still wrapped around it. Maybe he didn’t want to believe he was actually holding what he was holding. Maybe he was too shocked that he didn’t know what he was doing.

“Mingyu,” Dokyeom says through the fit of laughter he’s already breaking into, “Show me whats in your hand.” Mingyu complies, ready for the ridicule from his friends, bracing for the years of jokes that will follow. He slowly lifts his hand from the bag, still vibrating-why he hadn’t turned it off was beyond him- a magenta dildo staring all of them in the eyes, all at once. Minghao and Dokyeom lose it, falling from their chairs again, grasping their stomachs, tears threatening to fall.

“Now that’s, that’s unsanitary.” Minghao practically yells, hand grasping the desk still struggling to breath properly. The entire room turns their heads, the brightly colored toy catching their eyes first. Confusion hits most of them, laughter follows and suddenly everyone is asking questions. Mingyu drops the item onto the floor, still too freaked out to turn it off. Thankfully, the teacher had left the room earlier, needing to copy papers for the next class.

“Turn it off Mingyu, you’re wasting the battery. If it runs out you won’t be able to use it later!” A student exclaims from the ahead of them. Laughter taking over him as well. Mingyu picks up the dildo, fumbling to find the button and throwing it to the floor as soon as he figured it out.

“It’s not mine!” Mingyu all but screams, pointing to the magenta device as if it had been ridiculing him too. But it basically was, tormenting his very being, threatening his very existence. Mingyu wanted to hide for the rest of his life.

“mmhmm. Okay Mingyu, just get back to your seat please.” The teacher speaks as he walks into the classroom. He’s shuffling through papers, not caring enough to look at the scene as he reaches his desk. “And for the love of God, please don’t use it while I’m lecturing.” A smile tugs on the teachers lips while a defeated gasp escapes Mingyu’s throat. He throws his hands in the air, gathering the silicone monster and dropping it into the bag. He slumps in his chair as soon as he sits back down.

He was going to get to the bottom of this, and he was going to clear his name.

The bag is dropped in front of the boys who occupy the lunch table. Mingyu sits across from Wonwoo, unzipping the bag and pulling out the numerous books and notebooks. Wonwoo reads the textbooks as Mingyu pulls them out.

“Calc 3, AP Biology, Shakespearean Literature, this girl is way too smart to have a class with you, so that’s definitely not an option.” MIngyu sends a pointed stare to his friend.

“Says you, you’re too old for this grade anyways, what did you do, get held back?”

“I started school late!” Wonwoo whines, palms flat against the lunch table, the rest of the groups laughs at their friend, “Besides, I’m not the one who brings a dildo to class so,” Wonwoo shrugs it off, a smirk already plastered on his face as he crosses his arms.

MIngyu grabs the bag defensively, groaning in frustration, “We’ve already decided it’s not my bag. You said it yourself, I’m too stupid to have these textbooks!”

“I feel like you’re not helping yourself very much.” Vernon comments beside Mingyu, head resting in his hand, a smile playing on his lips.

“Look, none of that matters right now. I just need to figure out what freak this bag belongs to, so I can prove to everyone I didn’t bring a fucking dildo to class.” Mingyu explains, pulling out a folder with hopes to read a name off of one of the papers. He shuffles through the sheets, scanning through the corners in an attempt for an easier answer.

Nothing. No named papers were scattered across the table. Who doesn’t write their names on papers?

Mingyu exerts a sigh, the frustration building up by the second, “This is going to be impossible.” He shakes his head and buries it into his hands.

“Maybe it was switched up during the assembly this morning.” Chan suggests from down the table. “We threw the bags in that pile to save space in the bleachers remember? You probably picked up the wrong one.” He shrugs, as Mingyu snaps his finger in approval.

“Wow, now we know how they got switched, if only that information would actually figure out who brings a dildo to school.” Vernon replies instead, making Mingyu retract his hand to think once again.

“Dammit. He’s right.” Mingyu comments, putting his hand to his chin to think. A minute or two passes, the boys surrounding the table trying to think of a decent plan and Mingyu decides to search through the backpack once again.

“Are you sure you want to do that? You might find some more weird shit, I’m just saying from your past revelations.” Wonwoo asks, watching Mingyu as he pulls out another notebook. It looked worn out, most of the pages were filled, doodles and scribbles covering most of them.

“Is that a diary?” Dokyeom asks, sitting up straight to catch a glance at it as Mingyu lays it on the table. “You’re not telling me you’re going to read it are you?” Mingyu looks up at his friend, nodding at the question.

“That’s like, a complete invasion of privacy!” Seungkwan interjects, grabbing the journal from the table and coddling it like a baby. Mingyu frowns, prying it from his friends arms, setting it on the table to read it. Seungkwan argues once again, only to be pushed by Mingyu in order to silence him.

“I just need to see if there’s anything that will tell me who she is.” He flips through the pages, doodles of teachers and students catching his line of sight, earning a laugh on his end as he sees a familiar name. “Jihoon, you’re in here.”

The older boy turns his head, not really paying attention to the conversation until that moment, he walks over to stand behind Mingyu as he reads the notebook. “That doesn’t even look like me.” Jihoon complains, the cartoonish character looking back at him. The words ‘Jihoon hates me):’, sloppily written under it.

“That’s probably why you hate her huh.” Mingyu looks up at his friend, who’s head is hovering over his shoulder.

“I don’t even know who she is!” He exclaims, shuffling back to his seat and grumpily taking a sip from his water.

“Well at least we know she has a class with Jihoon, so we can narrow down our options.” Minghao explains as he shuffles through the textbooks once again, “You take AP Music Theory don’t you Jihoon?” The boy nods, trying to remember the faces from his fifth period class.

“I have that class after lunch, I’ll just ask around I guess.” Jihoon suggests, Mingyu shaking his head in disagreement.

“No, I want to ask. I want an explanation, I’ll come to class with you.” Jihoon raises an eyebrow at Mingyu.

“Don’t you have a class to go to?”

“Eh. Who needs Pre-calculus anyways.” Mingyu shrugs leaning back into his chair. Jihoon scoffs and shakes his head in disapproval.

“I don’t know who this girl is, but she sure as hell too smart for you. Everyone is.”

“There’s no one in this class.” Mingyu complains as he takes a seat in a desk next to JIhoon. He scans the faces of the various students entering, none of them he could recognize.

“What are you talking about, theres like twelve people in here already.” Jihoon states, pulling out his notebook to take notes.

“No one I know.”

“That’s because the people in this class are AP students. Ever heard of that Mingyu? Advanced. Placement. I know those words might be too far out of your vocabulary, mister school is nothing” Mingyu side eyes his friend, eventually focusing back on the door.

“You’re so pretentious.”

“Wow, three syllable. I’m impressed. Do you know what that means?” Mingyu coughs, avoiding the question and earning a laugh from Jihoon in return. Fewer people walk into class as passing period comes to an end. Some redhead he’s never seen, some lanky guys he’s never seen, some irresistibly pretty girl he’s nev- holy shit who is that- Mingyu thinks as he stops in his tracks. You huff as you shuffle in, eyes scanning the classroom before landing on Mingyu.

You’ve never seen him before, but he smiles greasily at you anyways. You stifle a laugh moving your eyes to the right to see Jihoon. He turns to you, gesturing to the seat next to him, where you always sat. You turn your body, preparing to walk through the aisles when a certain something about you catches Mingyu’s eyes.

A backpack. His backpack.

Mingyu is torn between throwing your backpack at you and wanting to ask for your number. He turns to Jihoon quickly, whispering to his friend as he kept his eyes trained on you.

“That’s her. This is her backpack.” Jihoon looks at Mingyu, then looks at you, not believing Mingyu.

“Y/n? No way. She wouldn’t bring a dildo to school.” As Jihoon replies, you take the seat beside him, smiling at both of the boys before adjusting your chair. “What’s up y/n. This is my friend Mingyu, he’s an idiot and also brings dildos to class.” Jihoon glances at Mingyu, smirking at the younger boy’s panic. You laugh, assuming it was a joke between friends. You look at Mingyu, who’s face is far redder than is should be and he shyly smiles back at you. “How’s it going?”

You sigh in reply, clearly exhausted from your day. “I’m doing fine, pretty tired though, it’s been hectic all day for me. By the way, can I borrow a paper and pencil? My backpack got switched today, and I just don’t feel right searching through this person’s stuff you know.” You look at Jihoon innocently, a horrified look is plastered on your friends face.

“Oh my god you did.” Was all Jihoon says, earning a confused look from you. He coughs, pointing to Mingyu beside him, “about that. I think MIngyu’s got something for you.” Your attention turns to Mingyu, who drops your backpack onto his desk and waves cheekily at you.

“My backpack! Wow, it really does look like yours, did you get it from amazon? That’s where I got mine” you laugh as you reach across the tables to retrieve your things. Mingyu pulls back the bag, shaking his head.

“Ah ah ah.” He exclaims, your eyes squinting at the boy you’ve never met before. “I have some questions about the contents of the bag actually. You can retrieve your bag outside of the classroom. “ Mingyu stands up, and turns to the door, walking out of the classroom. You watch him for a second before standing up, not really understanding what was happening. You tell your teacher you’re going to the bathroom, only to be waved off because, honestly she couldn’t care less.

“What are you talking about? Just give me my backpack.” You reach for your bag once again, only to be intercepted as Mingyu turns his body. “Did you look in my bag? You have the audacity to look in my things when I didn’t peek at yours! Who the hell are you?”

“You seem rather upset about me looking at your things, do you have something to hide, y/n?” Mingyu sets the bag down beside him, bending over slightly to look you in the eyes. You had pretty eyes- he thought. He’d like to look at the more often.

“My tampons?” You peep, not understanding the question.

“Oh no, no, no, I’m talking about something else. Something that has caused me a lot of trouble.” Mingyu straightens up and leans against the wall, scanning your body. Losing track of his thought as he did so, “You seem pretty smart, do you tutor by chance? I could use a tutor, see Jihoon wasn’t lying when he said I’m an idiot and I figure someone as pretty as you could help me focus a little more,” Mingyu asks, clearly getting off topic. You roll your eyes shifting your weight to the other leg as you cross your arms.

“What did you find in my backpack, Mingyu?”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” He nods, before going on, “care to explain why you have a dildo in your bag?” You choke on your breath, eyes widening in surprise.

“A what?”

“A dildo.” He says louder. You hush him immediately, before reaching over to cover his mouth. The attempt proved itself to be failure, as the boy was much too tall for you to put in the energy.

“I don’t know what your talking about.” You shake your head, wondering why he would blatantly lie about the matter.

“Don’t play dumb. I can show it to you if you want.” Mingyu crouches down, unzipping the bag and pulling out the magenta silicon device half way before you stopp him

“Oh my god there’s actually a dildo in there.” You say in horror, placing both of your hands on Mingyu’s to push it back down in the bag. The two of you were a lot closer than you had intended, and when you looked up his face was inches from yours. You fell backwards in surprise, landing on your butt in front of him. You cross your legs and put your hand to your lips to think, trying to identify exactly who would put a dildo in your backpack. After a minute, you knew exactly who had done it. “That fucker.” You whisper, Mingyu still watching you as you sat in concentration. While you were trying to figure out the situation, Mingyu was figuring out how to get into AP Music Theory, AP Biology, and Shakespearean english, halfway through the second semester of his Senior year. He’ll have to speak to his counselor later.

“That who?” He asks and you look up. Mingyu’s already standing and he holds out a hand to pull you up. You take the offer and your suddenly standing up in front of him.

“My brother. He plays these pranks all the time. I gave that dildo to him as a gag gift, and he’s been fucking with our family ever since.” You shake your head, smiling at the thought. “Sorry about that, you must have been very confused.” Mingyu smiles gently at you, already forgiving you for the constant torment that will follow him.

“Completely.”

“I’m still angry you looked through my bag.” You comment, MIngyu shrugging in response, “But I guess I can get over it, since you’re probably the guy everyone has been talking about today. You can tell everyone it was my bag if you want.” Mingyu ponders the offer for a split second before waving his hand in rejection.

“It’s fine, I’ll live as dildo boy for the rest of high school, it would be worse if everyone found out it was your bag instead.” You soften at his sweet gesture, a reaction Mingyu was hoping to get.

“Wow dildo boy, you’re my hero.”

“But,” Mingyu pauses before grabbing his phone from his back pocket, “You have to give me your number in return. It’s only fair.” You take his phone, punching in your phone number and setting your contact information.

“A phone number for weeks of ridicule. Seems fair.”

Mingyu watches as you speak, all worry from the events of the day drifting away from him. He didn’t care anymore, he just wanted to keep making you smile and if that meant saving your ass, he would do it a thousand times again. He smiled again, something he felt like he has done a dozen times since meeting you a mere fifteen minutes ago.

“I’d say you’re worth it.”

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