#hike messenger | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sheerfreesia007 · 9 days ago

Text

Little Bit of Time

Pairing: Hyunjin x Reader

Word count: 2,646

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Hyunjin unknowingly steals a promotion from you that you’ve been working towards for years and it causes your new friendship to sour slightly as you try to come to terms with being passed over for the promotion. What happens when he tries to get back into your good graces with the help of his shiny motorcycle?

“So did you see the new episode yet?” Asked Vicki as she walked out of the office building with you towards the parking lot where you both parked. It was the end of another busy workday and you were eager to get home so that you could relax and catch up on your shows before heading to bed.

”No, but I have it saved on my DVR. Going to hopefully catch up tonight once I get home.” You tell her as you hike up your messenger bag onto your shoulder. You both walked along the courtyard in front of your office building before she giggled brightly causing you to look at her confused before noticing she was looking towards the parking lot. Turning your head to the parking lot you groaned loudly and she giggled loudly again as the sound of a motorcycle engine rang out in the parking lot.

Hwang Hyunjin straddled his motorcycle with a seductive smirk on his face as he watched and Vicki walk towards the parking lot. He sat there dressed in his button up charcoal gray shirt with his blood red tie loosened around his neck while a pair of black dress pants hugged his lower half perfectly. He leaned forward on his motorcycle as if he was lounging in his bed and smirks softly at you as his eyes follow you.

Rolling your eyes you sigh softly, he couldn’t just let you have a day without crossing your path. Hwang Hyunjin was a gorgeous human and he knew it, but while you found him utterly ethereal there was one sole reason for you not to be happy to see him right now.

You had been working at the company for at least two years before he was hired on in the same department as you about three months ago. You had been on the fast track for manager and had been toiling away trying to show your supervisors that you were ready for the promotion and that you would be a perfect fit. And while when Hyunjin had first started in your department you had befriended the man and would often help him out with anything he didn’t understand or was struggling with. You had become fast friends but soon you noticed your supervisors began to favor him and ultimately chose him as the new manager when the position became available.

Ever since the announcement had come out two weeks ago that Hyunjin had been chosen for the manager position you had pulled away from the gorgeous man and now he was your new manager. It made you so angry that your supervisors had chosen him over you and he was so knowledgeable because you had helped him along the way! Every time you had to interact with him at work now always seemed to enrage you and sadden you. It was like you were being pulled in two different directions at the same time and it was starting to drag your mood down each day.

”You ladies need a ride home?” Hyunjin called out friendly and you scoffed softly as Vicki giggled softly before shaking her head.

”No thanks, Hyunjin. I drove today. But maybe she does?” She suggested as she waved her hand at you causing you to scowl darkly at her.

”Yeah? Need a ride home?” He asked hopefully as he leaned further across his bike to get closer to you. “I could give you a lift.” He said eagerly before he patted the seat of his motorcycle. Your eyes followed his hand movement and you frowned softly at it, you weren’t very keen on motorcycles preferring to be in a car or a bus. Motorcycles make you nervous. You were always worried about the riders falling off their bikes or skidding along the pavement.

”No thanks, I’m gonna take the bus.” You said dismissively as you waved your hand. Hyunjin’s hopeful look fell suddenly from his face and he looked at you dejectedly.

”My bike would be quicker than the bus.” He offered and you shook your head again.

”No thanks.” You said as you walked around his bike and him as he pouted softly at you. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed onto your wrist tugging you back towards him and you turned to scowl at him.

”I swear I didn’t purposely try going for the manager position.” He said softly to you and you looked up at him surprised as your mouth hung open slightly. “I was just trying to make friends and learn the ropes of the job from you. But when they offered me the position I couldn’t pass it up, especially with the pay upgrade.” He said honestly and you furrowed your eyebrows at him before you sighed softly at his reasoning. You understood it completely but it still stung you when he was chosen for the position over you when he had only been working there for a few months in comparison to your years of hard work.

”I get it. It still hurts though.” You told him softly. “Just give me some time to get over the hurt. I had been working for that position for two years and they chose you after only a few months. It’s frustrating and disheartening.” You told him honestly and he nodded his head at your words.

”I know, I’m sorry.” He said softly and you smiled bitter sweetly as you nodded your head at him.

”I gotta get going, the bus will be here soon.” You told him and he nodded quickly before letting go of your hand.

”I could still give you a ride.” He suggested and you shook your head.

”Bikes make me nervous. I’ll stick to the bus.” You told him honestly and he looked at you quietly before tilting his head at you with a curious look on his face. “What?” You asked cautiously.

”Just never pegged you as someone to be afraid of anything.” He said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

”I’m not afraid.” You insisted and he smirked softly at you teasingly. “I’m not. I just don’t trust them.” You told him haughtily and he chuckled softly before leaning towards you with a seductive smirk on his face.

”It’s not the bike you should trust but the rider.” He said softly and you gasped quietly as your head whipped up to stare into his eyes. “You better run, I think your bus is pulling up.” He teased softly and you quickly turned to see that your bus was slowly pulling up to the bus stop. You cursed softly and began racing for the bus as Hyunjin chuckled softly behind you.

Thankfully you had managed to catch the bus in time and as you sat down in a seat you silently watched out the window as Hyunjin waved at the bus before putting his helmet on and starting his bike and riding off. You sighed quietly to yourself knowing that it wouldn’t take you long to get over the sting of being looked over for the promotion; it would just take you a little bit to get used to.

*-*-*-*

The next week Hyunjin steps into his new role as manager and you’re tasked with being the lead on a new project for the department. The two of you have to work closely together since he’s the manager overseeing the project while you’re the lead and have to report to him. You hug your binder to your chest as you walk over to Hyunjin’s office and knock on his closed door.

”Come in!” He calls out and you slowly open the door to peek inside at him.

”Do you have a moment to go over the project? We found a slight issue with the coding on one of the programs and I.T. Is giving us a hard time about getting it fixed.” You advised and he nodded his head beaconing you forward. As you waited for him to review the binder you looked around his office noticing that he still hadn’t gotten all of his decorations up. The office was spacious but not too big, just the right size with some large windows that brightened up the room. It made you slightly envious as you sighed softly as your hurt rose up inside you once more.

“Alright, let me talk to the manager over I.T. And I’ll see what I can do.” He said easily and you nodded your head as you turned to look at him.

”Thanks boss.” You said before walking out of his office not catching the soft frown on his face.

*-*-*-*

The week after that is the presentation for the project to upper management and you’re a nervous wreck. You’re sitting in a chair around a large conference room table with Hyunjin sitting next to you. Suddenly you feel a hand slip over yours underneath the table and you look down at it before looking up at Hyunjin with wide confused eyes.

”You’re going to do great. You know this project inside and out. Don’t worry about anything and just explain the project to them.” He said softly as he leaned over towards you. You sucked in a soft breath and nodded your head at his words feeling your confidence rise with a boost.

With just his simple reassuring words you were able to successfully present the project to upper management and had done so well that they had agreed to accept the project as is and move along with it on the spot. You had been shocked that they agreed with the project and accepted it so easily but as you turned to stare at Hyunjin he had a wide pleased smile on his face as he stared back at you with soft knowing eyes.

*-*-*-*

That night as you’re cleaning up your desk space Hyunjin walks out of his office and notices you are still in the office. You don’t notice him coming up behind you until he’s right by your side and you’re jerking back away from him in surprise.

”Geeze, you scared the life outta me.” You tell him as you press a hand to your chest as you feel your heart racing from the fright.

”Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said softly as he watched you continue to clean up your desk. “What are you still doing here? It’s late.” He asked curiously and you smiled softly at his concern. No matter that he was now your manager there was still the friendship you had built together, it was like a flowing river between the two of you.

”I had some to take care of tasks that I had to set aside while working on the project. I was lucky to be able to get them done.” You explained and he nodded his head at your words.

”The bus won’t run this late will it?” He asked softly and you shook your head as a soft smile slipped onto your lips.

”I’m going to call a cab to take me home. Don’t worry.” You told him and he stared at you silently for a moment.

”Or…” he began to say and you looked up at him with a furrowed eyebrow. “I could drive you home.” He suggested gently and you frowned softly at his suggestion.

”On your bike.” You said uneasily and he nodded his head quickly as his eyes sparkled with hope.

”I swear I’ll be extra careful with you behind me. You can hold onto me as tight as you need to. I won’t speed.” He began to rush out quickly and you frowned softly as you crossed your arms over your chest as you regarded him quietly. You were still uneasy about bikes but with the way Hyunjin was trying to reassure you that it would be okay and that it would be safe made you want to trust him. Taking in a deep breath you looked up at him for a moment as he stood there staring down at you.

”You promise to be extra careful?” You ask softly and he quickly nodded his head in reassurance.

”Yes, absolutely.” He said just as softly as he tried to curb his excitement at driving you home.

”Alright, fine. But this won’t be a habit.” You tell him firmly and he nods his head quickly at your words.

”Of course not.” He says before quickly grabbing your hand and walking you out of the building to the parking lot where he had parked his bike. He grabbed one of the helmets that he had strapped to his bike and placed it on your head before buckling it underneath your chin securely. He grinned happily as he tapped it a few times making you cry out as you batted his hands away causing him to chuckle happily at your antics. You watched as he put his own helmet on and secured it under his chin before he swung his leg over the bike and straddled it. “C’mon, hop on behind me.” He told you as he waited for you to climb on behind him.

You slowly swung your leg over the bike making sure not to hit him accidentally before you too straddled the bike but with a little bit of a struggle. The bike was large underneath you and your legs weren’t as long as Hyunjin’s so you had a slightly more difficult time straddling the bike. But as he directed you on where to place your feet you soon were settled on the bike and he slid back towards you until your front was flush to his back causing you to blush lightly at the contact. You then wrapped around arms around his waist and settled your cheek against his back.

When he started the engine you wrapped your arms tighter against his waist and heard him chuckle softly before he patted your hands gently. He then began to ease the bike out of the parking spot before slowly driving around the empty lot a few times before exiting out on the main road. You sighed softly thankful that he had driven around the parking lot allowing you to get used to the feel of the bike before getting onto the road.

As you both drove along the roads you kept your eyes partially closed still feeling uneasy and nervous on the bike. But soon your eyes began to open as you felt the cooler air rushing around both you and Hyunjin. It woke you up and made you feel as if you were racing along the road even though he was driving at a slower speed like he had promised. You even began to take in the lights of the city as they rushed past you and you couldn’t help but admire the pretty picture they made.

You cuddled closer to Hyunjin’s back and slowly began to relax against him as you got used to his driving and his bike underneath you. One of Hyunjin’s hands came to rest over yours gently as he pulled up to a red light and you hummed softly along with the purr of his engine.

”So do you trust the rider more now?” He asked teasingly over his shoulder and you laughed softly at his question.

”I’m starting to.” You answered cheekily and he flicked the top of your hand causing you to laugh loudly in the nighttime air.

”I’ll take it for now. Eventually I’ll get you to completely trust me.” He teased back and you hummed softly as you rested your cheek against his back once again as he began to drive through the green light. Your eyes eagerly took in the lights of the city as he drove you home knowing that eventually you would come to trust him completely. It would just take a little bit of time.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin

43 notes · View notes

hiskillingjar · 3 months ago

Note

Yoo what if Lawrence x mc with a knife kink and they be fuckin... like lawrence learns of the knife kink

i'm in the mood to write some stuff for law. be prepared for that!

1200+ words, cw for self harm mentions, same MC as this fic

"It was my grandad's in Vietnam,"

It was late in the musky apartment, and you were a little high (as you so often were) when you pulled the pocket knife from your messenger bag, unfolding it and holding it out for Law to look at.

The blade was probably shiny once, but it had been spotted with brown rust since you'd been given it, and its hollow, wooden handle was on the verge of splintering (wrapped up with white, packing tape) and black with mould, showing its age, what it had seen, the life it had lived before it was put in your hands.

“Cool, right?” You then asked, holding the dirty blade against your palm.

Law lowered the joint from their lips, sleepy (dead) grey eyes blinking as they sat up and stared at the knife.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling proudly at their somewhat impressed expression.

"I always carry it when I'm out," You explained nonchalantly, taking the burning joint as you passed them the knife, raising it to your lips for a slow drag, heat burning in your lungs as you quickly breathed out. You still weren’t very good at smoking weed, but you were getting better at it. "But I have more at my apartment, vintage ones, new ones. I collect them."

"You collect them?" They repeated, looking up at you with a raised brow. "That's probably-"

"Probably a little concerning, right?" You asked with a little titter, leaning back on the bed, spreading your legs lazily, your skirt hiking higher up your thighs, exposing dashed white scars under your fishnets. "Come on, don't play therapist with me, Law. It doesn't suit you."

"I was actually going to say it's probably a little stereotypical," They replied, a slight and uncharacteristic smirk on their lips. "You’re a trans girl obsessed with knives...that's kind of obvious, even for you, isn't it?"

You barked out a laugh, sitting up quickly (not closing your legs).

"Look at herrr though," You drawled through your giggles, pitching your voice up to the catty drawl you and your girlfriends sometimes spoke to each other in, taking the knife back when they held it out to you. "Clocking me for my phallic fixations. I didn’t know you had jokes, Law.” You grinned. “You're gonna have a field day when you show you my gun, aren't you?"

"You…really have a gun?" They asked after a moment, lowering their voice as they took the joint back for another drag. “Isn’t that illegal?”

They had the priorities sorted, it seemed.

"I mean, just one," You said with a shake of your head, watching as they breathed out a thick mouthful of smoke. "And it's, like...plugged up with so much junk that it doesn't work. It’s probably as legal as your joint," You gestured towards it and huffed out another little titter, feeling oddly defensive. “Like, I’m not gonna go flashing it to the cops, but I don’t think they’re gonna bust down my door for it.”

They nodded their head slowly, taking another drag of the joint.

You knew that they weren’t calling you out. They didn’t care about you owning weapons, just like you didn’t care about the dead animals they had rotting in barrels in the forest.

They were both parts of you that you didn’t make public to polite society but kept to yourselves and, occasionally, each other.

You knew how meaningful that was. And how important it was for you to have someone you could be authentic with.

You wondered…

"Sometimes…” You stared with a little sigh, slowly lowering the blade of the knife to your thigh, running it along one of your dashed, white scars. “I cut myself and I swear …I can feel the pain of everyone it's ever hurt inside of me. Like a pulsing heat."

You cut through one of the segments of your fishnets, exposing flesh and showing off your scars.

Law’s eyes glanced up lazily, just enough to make you feel desirable.

"You think it's hurt other people?" Law asked softly, lowering the burned-out joint to the ashtray at their bedside.

Figures, they wouldn't care about you hurting yourself, or give a second glance to your self-harm scars.

That's what you liked about them though. They didn't ask questions.

"It's a product of war," You said like it was obvious, pressing a little more pressure against the knife, making the skin underneath it turn white. "Of course, it's hurt people…that’s, like, all it was made to do."

"Mm, that was lifetimes ago, though," They drawled, leaning forward and running a hand (big, made you feel small, made you feel delicate) over your knee, not stopping you as the rusty blade started to split your skin. They never did stop you, though. "You've kind of taken it and...made it your own, you know? It's kind of like you, in that way."

"Mm?"

"You...existed as one thing," They explained, reaching out for the knife with long, bony figures and waiting for you to give it to them, which you did readily, obediently. "And now you exist as something else. Just like this knife was once a product of war, and now it's a...tool for your pleasure, mm?"

"Pleasure," You repeated with a huffed laugh, trembling with pain as they pressed the blade against the bleeding cut, teasing the skin open more, making the wound that much harder to heal. "That's a funny way of putting it, Law."

"You're hard," They said, a little bluntly, using the blade of the knife to flick up your skirt (the gesture made your cheeks flush and your knees tighten together), showing your cock pressing tight against the bars of your chastity cage. It was less of a symbol of your submission to them (the two of you were above such binary concepts, after all) as it was a symbol of your devotion, your promise to remain faithful, your promise to not do anything they didn’t agree to. "Or, harder than you usually are. You must be enjoying something about this…"

"Okay," You huffed again, hissing as they dragged another shallow cut into your thigh, severing more segments of your tights. "Let me hold onto one phallic symbol, can you? If I’m now allowed the other…"

"Sure," They replied, taking your sarcastic retort seriously (they weren’t good at picking up on sarcasm) as they continued to stroke your scar-patterned skin with the blade. “Whatever you want…”

You breathed out unsteadily as their other hand reached up your thigh, their thumb tracing over the twin cuts tenderly, smearing blood and tracing the lines of muscle that they had inadvertently exposed.

“You have a good pain tolerance,” They observed as they dragged a third cut into your skin, their gaze going up to your face to watch you as you bit your lip, a bead of sweat running down your cheek as you tried, with all your might, to not flinch or whimper.

“Thanks,” You murmured with a sardonic smile, leaning back on the bed as they kept rubbing at your cuts. “Hh…I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” They replied with a smile, gentle and eerie and unnervingly sweet.

“I meant it as one.”

#lawrence oleander #lawrence btd #lawrence x mc #lawrence x reader #drabbles #ray's got some things to work out!! woot woot!!#it's embarrassing how easy i find it to write in the office. lol. lmao even

37 notes · View notes

osamucide · 2 months ago

Note

what type of fashion style do you think dazai would have if he didn't have his current one? 🌸

i have so many thoughts about him and him in plain clothes is often one of them so THANK YOU FOR ASKING THIS

ill put together a little moodboard below—i alwayssss always imagine him in earth tones. comfy clothes like sweaters, crewnecks, big jackets+button ups. gray+brown jeans and corduroy, soft+breathable dress pants, khakis and cargo pants, heavy boots and sneakers. i have in my hc list that he's a funky sock wearer and i stand on that. i think he'll wear pretty much any socks to ever exist no matter how ridiculous—no one can ever see them anyway unless he hikes up his pant leg like he's flashing a knife and i think he loves doing this. i think he also loves a good bag to pull his outfits together. messenger bag, fanny pack, whatever. he'd carry a cunty Ass purse if he was going out and it complimented his fit. absolutely an "all clothes are unisex if you're not a little bitch" type. also a slippers guy fight me on this. minimalist with jewelry, but still fux with it. pretty alright at layering.

#reid speaks.ᐟ #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu

31 notes · View notes

whencyclopedia · 7 months ago

Photo

The Bear Man

The Bear Man is a Pawnee legend exemplifying the Native American understanding of the natural world and serving as an origin tale for the Bear Dance, which was performed to awaken the bears in spring from their winter hibernation and also to celebrate the season of choosing a mate. The Bear Dance is still performed by the Pawnee today.

The bear holds special significance for the Pawnee, as well as other Native American nations including the Ute, as a powerful animal and one of the Nahu'rac – the creatures who serve Ti-ra'wa ("Father Above"), as messengers and mediators – and who are considered brothers by various indigenous peoples. According to scholar Bobby Lake-Thom:

The Bear is always a good sign and a special power. He represents wisdom, insight, introspection, protection, and healing. If you see a Bear while hiking in the woods or along the river, then you know that a very sacred place is nearby. (78)

In The Bear Man, a father, concerned for his son, makes friends with a bear cub in hopes that the Nahu'rac will remember his kindness and look after his boy. Later in life, the Nahu'rac bears remember this kindness and repay it by bringing the boy back to life after he is killed in battle and teaching him their spiritual "medicine" (powers). The story shares similarities with other famous Pawnee tales including A Story of Faith and The Boy Who Was Sacrificed, which also feature the supernatural entities of the Nahu'rac.

The Bear Dance

In Native American belief, generally speaking, there is no spiritual difference between a human being, a plant, a tree, an animal, or a rock, as all things are imbued by the Creator with the same resonant energy. Humans are in no way superior to the natural world but are expected to act as stewards and care for their environment as they would for their own family and community. The Bear Dance grew out of this understanding as the dancers, as they perform wearing the bear hides which have been gifted to them by their bear relatives, become those bears and offer to others bear wisdom, healing, and power. Scholar Larry J. Zimmerman writes:

For Native North Americans, the boundaries between the world of the spirits and the world of living people were not clearly defined: a third "in-between" world of transition separated them. Every entity to some degree inhabited all three of these worlds. If a human carried out the appropriate rituals, he or she could be transformed into a being from one of the other two worlds.

Such transformations often duplicated events of the "beginning time" when the world came to be as it is through the agency of culture heroes and tricksters. On ceremonial occasions, an individual might assume the appearance of such a figure and be thought, literally, to become that being. When a holy man put on a yellow bear hide, for his audience he actually was the bear. (126)

The Bear Dance was (and is) always performed in the spring, waking the bears from their hibernation, and signaling the time for young men and women to choose mates. Among the Ute and Pawnee, the traditional roles of festivals are reversed at this time as men, instead of women, prepare the area for the dance, and women, instead of men, initiate the dance to find a suitable mate. The Bear Dance may last ten days to two weeks and honor the spirit of the bears as much as that of the community and the natural world at large.

#History #NativePeoplesofNorthAmerica #Pawnee #WHE #[#]

61 notes · View notes

tieronecrush · 1 year ago

Text

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter one: sweet temptations

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 3.8k

a/n: first chapter AHHHH!!! hope you all love, i am not sure if i am doing a taglist yet cause it’s a lot of work tbh so will keep y’all posted <3 and a special thanks to bestie @northernbluess for helping me with this brainchild and always screaming about javi with me. love ya sister wife <3

“Professor Peña! Welcome back, sir. So glad we have you on for another year,” the voice of the Dean of Faculty, Jim Banks, booms in the empty hallway of the Sociology department, a cramped space on the top floor of one of the, luckily, newer buildings on campus. With a large donation made to the university last year, specifically directed to the Sociology department for their ‘advancements in the field and hiring top talent’, the department was moved out of the basement and into a space that actually saw the sunlight. And had a decent view of the quad, too.

Javier stops in his tracks in the middle of the hall, turning over his shoulder and giving the man approaching behind him a strained, polite smile. He hikes the strap of his chestnut leather messenger bag further onto his shoulder, the itch of his brand new button-down scratching against his skin.

“Dean Banks, good to see you,” he sounds clipped, but Javier has always had a hard time hiding his impatience and annoyance.

“Please, Peña, like I’ve said, call me Jimmy! No need for formalities, buddy.” The dean slaps Javi’s shoulder when he reaches him, and Javier clenches his fist at his side. The whole buddy-buddy Southern thing never roped him in, and certainly not after he was made privy to what a boys’ club the academic world was.

Javier has been a professor for 6 months at Texas A&M University, based at their San Antonio campus, and has taught primarily undergraduate classes for the first semester and summer session that he was on the faculty roster. Hired into the Sociology Department after job-hunting for something to fill his time after retiring. Well, he technically resigned after the nightmare that was Cali, but he negotiated to keep his extremely cushy government pension. Never needed to work another day in his life, but damn he was getting bored. Even his Pop nearly kicked him out to get him to do something other than roaming the field of the ranch and camping out to watch the boats.

Those damn boats.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Dean Ba—Jimmy?” He takes one step back, out from under the man’s hand on his shoulder, and straightens up, grip tightening on the strap of his bag.

“Well, I do gotta favor to ask you, Peña. See, Professor Harrison has had some…extraneous circumstances that have kept him from coming back to the department this semester, and likely next semester. So, I was coming down here to ask if you would be willing to take on his graduate-level course for the semester, and possibly his next semester too. It’s Sociology of Deviance, and by god, you were the first person I thought of to fill in, ya deviant!” Banks gets a good laugh out of his own joke, the effort falling flat for Javier. He waits out the man’s reaction to his own humor, clearing his throat to attempt to egg him on and end the conversation earlier.

“So, what d’ya say, Peña? Think you can manage instructing that course? Syllabus and everything is already planned, just have to have someone actually teach the material and grade everything.”

“Uh, yeah, that would be fine. I’ll check in with Beth at the department’s front desk to get access to Professor Harrison’s material for the course,” he nods to the dean and starts to turn away, ready to retreat to the peace of his private office when Banks’ voice catches his attention again.

“Can’t thank ya enough, Peña. And, uh, try not to get yourself into any of those extraneous circumstances that will be on the class roster, yeah? Don’t want to have to replace you too. We can’t have A&M losing the Big Man on Campus, hey?”

His brows furrow as nods in response, calling out a ‘yes, sir’ as he finally starts toward his office again, stopping at the front desk of the department and requesting the materials for the graduate course, complimenting Beth’s nails with a playful wink.

At the click of his office door, he sighs and sets his bag down on the desk, turning around to face the large window overlooking the campus quad with his hands on his hips.

What the hell kind of extraneous circumstances was Dean Banks getting at? Javier’s a professional, his days of bending the rules in his career are over.

The morning goes by quickly and suddenly it’s two o’clock, fifteen minutes until the new lecture he’s been assigned to instruct. He gathers the syllabi that Beth had dropped off an hour earlier, taking his bag with him as he weaves through students in the halls and slips into the lecture hall, descending the wide stairs at the side of the rows of seats. At the start of every class, he prefers to spend the minutes before gathering his thoughts and laying out everything he needs to get covered. Today’s an easy day, the only goals are to hand out and review the syllabus, and to have the students introduce themselves.

At the prompt time of 2:15 pm, Javier clears his throat and quiets the chit-chatting down, looking up for the first time and meeting a set of eyes that dry his throat immediately. Soft, supple lips are quirked up into a smile, tendrils of short bangs framing her face. Her skin looks like velvet, with baby pink rouge on her cheeks, and a swipe of gloss across her bottom lip. His eyes combed down to her open chest, the scoop-neck baby tee emblemed with some band’s name that he didn’t know. When you smile at him, he feels his heart pound and his cock jump, suddenly grateful for the pretentious podium that he is standing behind.

So those are the extraneous circumstances Dean Banks was getting at.

It was the second semester of your two-year Master's program, and you were honestly excited for the first day of classes. Over the summer session, you had taken a couple of courses to get ahead and worked as a Teaching Assistant for one of your old undergraduate professors. It was about four years ago that you graduated, working in Corporate America before deciding to go back to school and pursue your found passion in Criminal Psychology. The Teaching Assistant job paid pitifully, as you should have expected, so you had turned to an external opportunity that quickly, and easily, became profitable for you and allowed for you to quit TA-ing and focus on your studies for this semester.

The first class of the first day is Sociology of Deviance, a class that is scheduled for Monday and Wednesday afternoons. When you registered for the course, the instructor was listed as “To Be Determined” but as a required credit for your degree, you signed up for this semester anyway.

And holy shit, you’re glad you did.

A few minutes after two o’clock, the lecture hall door opened and slowly shut, the man in a baby blue button-up and tailored slacks stalks down the stairs to your right, headed for the desk in front of the green chalkboards. Underneath the tiny laminate surface that swings out from your chair, you cross your legs and sit up, eyes trained on your professor. His dark hair is clean cut, but not too cropped, swept to the side and up away from his face. A strong, full mustache adorns his upper lip, perfectly groomed along with his clean-shaven, sharp jaw. Wide, expansive shoulders strain under the material of his shirt, the top button near the collar undone and his tie slightly tugged down. The silver belt buckle sitting at his waist glistens in the fluorescent lights, one glance given down his legs and then to his muscular arms when he turns around to write his name on the board.

Professor Peña.

No fucking way, you think to yourself, immediately more engaged than his looks had you. The Javier Peña was teaching one of your courses, a name buzzing around campus over the summer, one that you had read about over and over for the last few years while focusing on the World News section of the paper. The DEA agent not only had a part in taking down Pablo Escobar, but he was also the agent who found and arrested Gilberto Rodriguez, a godfather of the Cali Cartel, and eventually took down the rest of the whole organized crime family.

Finally, someone who actually had some experience with crime outside of a courtroom.

Uncapping the ballpoint pen laid in front of you, you tap it against your chin as you listen to Professor Peña recount his philosophies in teaching. According to him, he prioritizes ethical and principled practices in the field, noting personal experiences he had with the opposite. You vaguely remember a story from the Miami Herald about his involvement with Los Pepes during Escobar, and you could never forget reading about the corruption of not only the Colombian government but the US government during the Cali days. That case — that scandal that he exposed was a big reason you dove back into criminology. You wanted to be a person who would better it for the people under the jurisdictions of the judicial system, as naive as it may sound.

A thick, stapled stack of packets gets dropped onto your desk, eyesight zoning back in to look to your side and face your professor standing next to your chair. He gives a tight smile, nodding his head to your left.

“Please pass these down that way after you take one for yourself.”

Even from that simple statement, his deep, raspy voice has you sucking your teeth, shaking your head to yourself as you pass on the stack of syllabi, and turning your attention to the outline of the semester. As you study the required readings, Professor Peña returns to the front. Another clearing of his throat turns your eyes up, sitting up straight again as you watch him lean back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

“At the beginning of each semester, I like to have everyone go around and introduce themselves. Now, I know you’re all adults and probably don’t want to do this, but it helps me to remember you when I’m grading all your shit,” he gives a closed smile to the room as a rumble of gentle laughter erupts and quickly fades.

“Anyone want to volunteer to go first?” Professor Peña scans the room, interrupted by a brunette guy that looks to be around your age, an eager smile on his face.

“I’ll go first, Professor. My name’s Alex, I’m in the first semester of my first year of law school. Planning to focus on Criminal Law. I went to UT Austin for undergrad. Go Longhorns!” The exclamation gets some applause, you note the lack of reaction from Professor Peña and smiling to yourself.

Thank god he isn’t one of those insufferable college sports obsessed men.

A handful more of your classmates take their turns, and you politely pay attention to each of them, but unable to shake the feeling of eyes on you. One glance toward the front and you catch Professor Peña’s eyes, darting away toward the student speaking and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

If you could read his mind right now, you surely would be dropping the class. Javier can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you, entranced by every angle of your face that he’s given, your head turning to face each of your classmates as they speak. It’s endearing how engaged you seem in learning about your peers, and it snaps him out of the daze for a moment when he realizes that he is really the one that needs to be paying attention to the names being spoken.

The only reprieve he seems to get is when you take your turn to introduce yourself, giving your name to the room and each detail you offer, he automatically categorizes into his brain to remember. In those thirty seconds that you are solely speaking, his gaze is trained on you, watching the pout of your glossy lips as they move together and apart, your tongue hitting behind your teeth and the softly shadowed eyelids that crinkle at the sides when you smile. Something you’ve said makes you laugh a bit, the sound ringing in his ears and pumping his heart faster.

The focus moves from you to the next student to volunteer, but Javier can’t help the lingering of his eyes across your collarbone, sloped shoulder and pen bouncing in between your fingers.

Enamored. Infatuated. Bewitched, even.

God, he shouldn’t be thinking about his student this way.

But you are so fucking gorgeous. And clearly kind, with the way you focus on everyone speaking, gentle smiles given to everyone. You have to be intelligent, pursuing a Master’s degree. And you seem so delicate, so sweet.

What do you taste like?

Nope, not going there Javier. Sure, he’s lonely, but with a student? After another professor just got caught with one, allegedly?

Before he knows it, every student has given their name and random facts about themselves, and he can finally turn his back to the room to begin writing out the required, upcoming assignments and go over the material that will be covered over the next few months. In the blink of an eye, class is wrapping up and he lets out a long exhale, longing for about two fingers of the whiskey that is sitting in the bottom drawer of his desk.

He leans over the table in front of him, shuffling the extra syllabi together and organizing them into his briefcase while the students funnel out of the lecture hall. Brows furrowed, he sighs when he hears footsteps approaching, glancing up to see that little band t-shirt he noticed before, now the view of a dark evergreen, black, and hints of yellow plaid and pleated skirt with legs extending from the mid-thigh hem, and suddenly he’s standing up a bit too quickly to acknowledge your approach.

“Excuse me, Professor Peña?” you ask, saccharine and well-mannered.

“How can I help you?” he responds, not managing to hold back the grin that ticks up one side of his mouth.

“I wanted to properly introduce myself to you,” you give him your name with your hand stretched out, “I know it sounds kiss-ass, but I am really excited to be able to take a course from you. It’s cool to have a non-lawyer professor in criminology courses.”

“I appreciate that,” he slips his palm against your outstretched hand, shaking it and noting your firm handshake, “Hopefully, I live up to your expectations as a professor. Not sure if I will have as good of a grip on the material as Professor Harrison would’ve, this is my first time teaching this class.”

You drop his hand and wave off his concern, a smile still plastered on your face. It’s not forced, by any means, he can see it’s a genuine expression which has his insides stirring again.

“I’m sure you will exceed expectations, especially if the reviews from my graduate cohort have told me anything.” The statement is punctuated with a faint laugh, echoed by Javi as he tilts his head in questioning.

“Glad to hear that I am… well-liked?”

“You could say that, Professor Peña,” you raise your eyebrows with a curl of your lips, nodding slowly, “Well, I should let you get back to your office. Looking forward to the semester.”

“Nice to meet you,” he repeats your name, “And be sure to read your syllabus.”

You turn around as you climb up the stairs of the lecture hall, wide smile, “Oh, I always do my homework, Professor Peña. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Luckily during syllabus week, Javier’s workload is light enough to stay on top of his emails and be able to plan ahead for the next few weeks when things will start to ramp up and assignments will be due.

In his office the next morning, he’s in the midst of slowly working through his short to-do list before his class at one o’clock. With a familiar chime from the clunky machinery on his desk, he turns to the screen and clicks open the tab with his university email address. A new message is in his inbox, one from a student. He starts to skim the message to look for questions asked, thinking to himself as he shakes his head with a disbelieving scoff.

A student already emailing? It’s the first fucking week, c’mon kid, let up and have a little fun during syllabus w—

Oh, wait, it’s you. From his graduate course yesterday afternoon. The student off to the left, with the sweet smile and doe eyes, tight t-shirt and juicy lips.

What would they look like around him?

Jesus Christ, Javier. Get your shit together. A student. That is what you are, and all that you can be.

At least until you graduate.

Shut up, Peña!

He argues back and forth with himself, the angel and devil on his shoulders both making convincing arguments. Physically shaking himself out of the thoughts, he focuses back on your actual message, fully reading it now and chuckling to himself when it’s simply a message about a mistake in the syllabus.

One of the readings is listed with the wrong author, but of course, with how amiable and courteous you are, it’s phrased as a question rather than flat out telling him it’s wrong. Something along the lines of “Sorry Professor, but did I get this wrong…”

He’s not offended, he didn’t write the syllabus, and even if he did, he still would feel no qualms about being corrected where it was due.

There’s a flash of something in his chest, the smallest bit of anger when he thinks about you drafting this email to him, likely nervous you’d get a shitty response back. He knows the type of shit his colleagues say to their female students, and it grates on him every time. Typing up a reply to you, he answers the question concisely. The cursor blinks for a minute on the screen, deciding whether or not to finish off the message with some words of encouragement or not.

Quickly, he adds ‘And please, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong. Clearly you know your stuff, and I could use some help with navigating this new course.’ Adding his signature, he hits send before he can give it another thought.

Exiting out of the window, an ad pops up onto his desktop. Javier moves his mouse to hover over the ‘X’ button, the baby pink banner catching his attention.

Sweet Temptations.

Curiosity gets the best of him and he clicks through to the website, licking his lips when he’s greeted with a logo design that features the silhouette of a woman as the ‘T’.

Javier is lonely.

He moved away from Laredo, where his father resides on the family ranch, the only familiar piece of the US that he was eager to return to. That excitement for the slow life burned out quickly, angst settling in and keeping him on edge — those damn boats.

Chucho encouraged the move, the job, the lifestyle change. Something busier to keep his mind and body occupied, left active enough to forget about the news from over the border, the runs happening right behind his family’s land.

Sure, Laredo is a short drive away, but the distance from family and the few friends he has at home, plus no informants to spend his evenings with, Javier has become decidedly lonely. And these days, he is open to any means of companionship.

For a few minutes, Javi pokes around the site, reading about the matching process for men “seeking arrangements” that “avoid the complications of traditional dating”.

From what he can gather, it’s a place to find a sugar baby. And as a man who was — honestly is supportive of sex work (if this even counts as sex work?), he isn’t above paying for an arrangement that will work for him. Traditional dating hasn’t given him much luck, too many expectations put on him upfront, and too big of a jump to be made that he isn’t quite adjusted for.

All of this logic is leading him to the sign up tab, filling out his information. He creates a new email address for this purpose, choosing a simple ‘[email protected]’. The rest of the form is a simple questionnaire, looking to get the gist of what he’s looking for out of this arrangement and what kind of woman he typically goes for.

He hovers over one question: ‘Are you looking for a relationship that will be sexually active?’. It’s a check of ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and suddenly the back of his neck is burning with a hint of shame as he selects ‘yes’.

After the rest of it is answered, he submits it.

If this goes nowhere, hey, at least he tried.

In the exact same spot a week later, Javier is slumped in his chair at his large desk, the sleeves of his button up rolled up to expose his forearms as he does the reading for his own class, preparation for Sociology of Deviance tomorrow afternoon.

Last week, at the second meeting of the cohort, he was impressed by your analysis of the first reading assignment, joking with you after you hit all the key points that ‘you could come up here and teach and give him a break’. That same jolt of energy from last Monday passed through him when you smiled bashfully at him, actively listening for the rest of the lecture. Before he could pull you to compliment you again, you were up the stairs and out the door, a tiny piece of notebook paper left behind. He stalks up to the desk you were at, picking up the scrap and grinning to himself when he sees a doodle of yours. It’s him, it has to be with the prominent ‘stache and eyebrows, his characteristically accurate head floating on the page. He tucks the drawing into his pocket and leaves for the day, stowing the art piece in the top drawer of his desk.

Today, he flicks the paper around in between his fingers, studying the fluid line work when his computer sings again with an incoming email. With nothing in his work inbox, he checks his new personal one, greeted with an excitable subject line:

YOU’VE GOT A MATCH!

JaviP & TheOnlyAngel

tagging some peeps that requested it but not sure if i will have a taglist for this series lol: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @sugadolly @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña series #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena x female reader #javier pena series #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena smut

350 notes · View notes

thedarkesthistories · 6 months ago

Text

How I imagine different Dark Academics

The Professor: tweed. thin framed glasses. coffee. a lot of black and brown clothing. rolls their eyes all the time because a lot of people and their opinions annoy them. their eyes lit up when they teach or get a new idea that they have to write down, often with messy handwriting in one of their notebooks. clean but disorganised room with a lot of coasters. walls filled with posters and shelves with books.

The (future) Humanitarian, oh and a doctor: wears protest t-shirts. way too old and broken shoes. heavy backpacks full of anatomy books. has glasses but fails to wear them. wakes up at 3am but never tells anyone (the janitors know though). always the harsh professors favourite. doesn't care for gossip and is bad at socialising. stops listening to conversations to read instead.

The Legal Genius: cut their hair short. business casual all day long. not bothered about designer but vintage goes. straight A's and will win any argument. travels a lot. hates politics but loves media. a cat person... apartment is full of light. a great advice giver but a bad judge of character.

The Artist: colourful sweaters. curly hair. mugs with hot drinks. paint on clothes. has a great friend group and includes everyone. secretly posts art and essays online. often second guessing themselves without a cause.

The Diplomat: beach-blond hair and kind eyes. very practical clothing. a black rain jacket and hiking boots. plays light sports. can strike a conversation with anyone. encouraging and helpful. owns a lot of factual books and biographies. they have it all but not what they most want to find - their true purpose. ...annoyingly perfect.

The Musician: wears black warm turtlenecks and short grey skirts, messenger and tote bags full of notebooks with smudged notes. they always give a half-smile. friendly in a serious way until you become friends with them and they make you laugh every time you see them. messy music sheets all across their dorm room table. intellectual conversations. candles everywhere.

#dark academia #darkest academia #light academia #academia #outfits #scenarios #own post #academics #university #studybrl #imagine

49 notes · View notes

lover-i-lover · 1 year ago

Text

Spencer's magic bag

Oh, Spencer's magic messenger bag. He has almost anything in that bag. Why don't we look at some times that bag has saved you and made everything better.

Your case had gone late into the night and early morning, you were bagging on getting some sleep on the plane back, but the jet's blinds are broken. Leaving the sunshine state in the early morning, does not grant you the grace you were hoping for. You drop yourself down in the darker part of the plane, but the sun is still a big pain in the ass. Somehow Spencer is fine, he's not tired, hungry or anything and it makes you so mad. It shouldn't but you're fucking cranky, and sadly you know it. You hold an arm over your eyes as the sucky sun shines through the plane. You're really wishing you haven't forgotten your sunglasses in your suitcase. You give a slight groan and hear Spencer chuckle. You drop your arm and slump back in your seat, making room for Spencer to sit beside you. You lean your head into the crook of his neck. Spencer sets his messenger bag by his legs and throws an am around your shoulder. "What's wrong?" he questions, letting your head rest for the first time in hours.

"Nothing..." You sigh, knowing even if you decide to tell him there's not much he can do to help. Spencer needs his sunglasses, and if he does have painkillers it's probably the kind you need to have with food. "Something is clearly wrong, I'd like to help" He squeezes your shoulder and you snuggle op to him, bringing your legs op on his legs. "There's nothing to do Spence, but thank you" You say, hoping you'd be allowed to cuddle op to him even though the team is around. Spencer grumbles something to the affect of Yes but still, love you, I'm here. You nod slightly, still warm from the burning sun. A few minutes pass with you snuggled op to him. Suddenly, Spencer goes to pull you off and you almost whine. You know Spencer isn't big on PDA, but you were hoping that Spencer would grant you the grace the sun was denying you, though you haven't said it you expected him to notice.

"Something's hurting you" He states questioningly, gently tilting your head back onto the seat. You sigh, that didn't take long. "It's just a headache, the sun isn't helping" You half groan, shifting to lay against the one stretch of wall without a window. Spencer gives a sad smile, glad he was right, yet sad he was right because of course he doesn't like to see you hurt. You watch as he grabs his bag and brings it into his lap, that fucking confused you. He keeps books and case files in that thing, what's he looking for. You close your eyes. Tired and hot. Suddenly something is slipped onto your face, your eyes fly open in surprise. Sunglasses. You look to the top of Spencer's head, his own sunglasses set neatly behind his ears. "You just, have an extra pair of sunglasses?" you ask, as he brings you back into a snuggle. "Of course i do" He confesses, pressing a short, sticky kiss to your forehead. You smile, reminding yourself that you need to write a thank you letter to Diana for raising some a smart, sweet, and considerate son. "Thanks Spence" You mutter. Spencer smiles, pulling his own sunglasses down over his eyes, ready to fall asleep next to you. He shuffles close, leaning his head atop yours. You give a small happy hum, and let yourself sleep for the first time in two days.

You've had a bad day. That's what you tell Spencer as you get in the elevator with him, your arms crossed over your chest, heavy bag slung over your shoulder. Your stomach grumbles and you're reminded that you've not had your usual lunch with Spencer because you've had an enormous amount of paperwork and just did not have the time. "Ahh. Thank you Baby" You whine as he slips the bag off your shoulder. Spencer chuckles and hikes the bag op on his own shoulder. You swear that man has no limit to what he can hold on his shoulders. He could carry 20 bags on one shoulder and not even get winded. You lean on his non bag shoulder and he sets an arm around you. You lay a hand on your stomach, hoping to quiet it. Spencer spares your stomach a glance and your face heats op in embarrassment. You definitely want your stomach to shut op now, and you're kinda regretting letting Spencer take your bag.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, rubbing your side lightly. The question seems odd to you. Is something wrong?, not what is wrong? Normally Spencer would already know something is wrong, or he'd wait to see if you give any more clues. Something must seem very wrong to him, if not he wouldn't be asking. "I'm hungry, starving actually" You confess, hoping that he would take pity on you and get you a snack at some local corner store. "Ha" he sighs, petting your side before letting og of you. You whine and sigh at the same time, whining for him to keep being a pillow and sigh because he won't hold you. "Just a minute Princess" He opens his own bag, digging around for something. For a second you hope he's got a snack, before remembering that he doesn't keep food with his books because some are first edition that he can't risk getting dirty.

You sigh again, and resign yourself to hunger until you get home. But hopefully just until you hit the street and find a store. Spencer nudges you. "Here" he says, and you open your eyes to find Spencer handing you a tapper wear box, layered in two plastic bags. "What is it?" You asks, undoing the plastic. "An extra lunch, a ham and cheese sandwich, crackers, half an apple, half a pear, and a box of apple juice. I always have one" He says, taking the plastic bags from you. Your stomach rolls in happiness as you lean op to kiss him. "You are magic!" you swear and open the lunch. You stuff the de-cored apple in your mouth and chew, then the de-cored pear. You sigh happly as the food settles in your stomach. "How does it not go bad?" you ask, starting to pick op the crackers. "I make the extra one and if someone doesn't need it. Then i eat it the next day and make a new extra" Spencer says, setting an arm around you. The elevator door opens and you two step out as you munch on his food. You remind yourself yet again, to write that damn thank you letter to Diana. Maybe it's better if you go see her actually. It's been a while since you two went to see her.

The jet had just taken off when you realised. Well, more remembered. It was suspose to be a fun surprise for Reid later, but you got a not so fun susprise. It would just have been unpleasant timing. Had you been wearing underwear. So that's how you find yourself crying in the bathroom. You're wearing a skirt with no underwear and you just got your period. You don't wanna move off the toilet but you can't stay in the bathroom for ever. It's a 2 hour flight. What are you gonna do? had you packed underwear just in case? oh god you don't remember. You grab your phone off the sink. Which one of the girls might have underwear in your size? Emily? Would she even have an extra pair? Would any of them? You about to text JJ, hoping her mom instincts might mean she'd have an extra pair, when you get a text from Spencer.

I know something is wrong, please tell me what so i can help you

You sigh. God damn you've been in for too long. You grab some paper and dry your tears. You love that man. So, so much. You'd die for that man right now. You switch to your chat tread with your boyfriend.

I'm having some femmine issues, would you mind checking my bag for underwear and a pad?

You find yourself blushing a bit, it's not something you like discussing with Spencer. It's not that he doesn't understand. He's actaully a bit too understanding sometimes. Letting you take out your frustration on him when you don't know what else to do and letting you cry on his shoulder when you've realized what you've said. There's a knock on the door and you gather yourself before answering it. Spencer slips you a small bag you don't recognize. You take it and shut and lock the door. You sit back down and open the bag. You could hug that man to death right now. A few months ago, you'd caught Spencer looking through your underwear drawer. He insistsed that he wasn't looking to take anything, and he didn't. You laughed about, if he wasn't gonna take anything then way was he looking? You have your answer now. The bag has a pair of black boy short and 4 pads. Is it kinda weird that he brought you underwear and somehow has it on him exactly when you need it. Maybe, do you care right now? Fuck no.

You fix yourself, making sure there would be no evidence of your little accident. You stick your head out from the bathroom and motion for Reid. Spencer quietly comes to you. No one bothering to look at you two. You pull him inside the bathroom. He looks both suprised and a little scared. You lock the door behind him. "Do they not fit?" He asks. "No, they fit fine. But my god, i could just-" You grab his face and kiss him feverishly. He doesn't quite give you the response you hoped for, only kissing you gently. He places his hands on your waist, gently pulling away from you. "I'm sorry, we're on the clock" You mumble, petting his cheek. "But thank you so much" you murmur, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before you send him out ahead of you. You gather yourself for a moment before walking back out.

You sit down next to Spencer, throwing your legs over his, snuggling op to him quickly. "Better?" He asks. You nod. "Thank you" You whispser, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "Anytime" spencer smiles slightly.

You lay down on the couch on the jet. Feeling so tired and small. You just wanna go home. While the team knows you're a little so you don't have to hide or try to stay big. JJ was the first to notice and give you a blanket to snuggle with. It was a hard case, really hard case, a mother and a son killing the son's father figures before killing killing his actual dad. Spencer's sitting with your head in his lap, petting your hair. You wish you were home with Spencer, home with your daddy and stuffies and little gear. You glance op to Spencer, blinking a bit. He glances down to you. "You okay baby?" Spencer asks, setting his book aside to give you all his attention. You bite your bottom lip, toying with your thumb as well, hoping for permission to suck your thumb.

Spencer tilits his head in confusion. "Baby, what's wrong?" He asks, petting your hair gently. "Daddy..." You mumble, not wanting the others to hear. "Daddy's here" He whispers back to you. You pout, snuggling closer, blinkinng at him uselessly. You shuffle around a bit, bitting harder at your lip, hoping he'd cach your hints too. "Oh, baby don't hurt yourself" Spencer says, petting you cheek. You whine and Spencer grabs his bag and looks through it. You sigh lowly, why's he ignoring you? Suddenly Spencer's slipped a pacifier into your mouth, you huff in surprise. "Better?" He asks. You nod happily, sucking on the pacifier. "Good, need anyting else?" Spencer asks gently, petting you hair and face. You mumble through the pacifier, hoping he'd understand you. "Stuffie? You have stuffie?"

Spencer reaches into his bag again, pulling out a small stuffie, before tucking it close to your chest. "There you go little one" Spencer coo's lowly, continuing to pet your hair. You snuggle close to him, happy to have some comfort. You didn't even know Spencer brought a pacifier with him in his bag, but you're not complaining. You're very happy. "Okay, just get some sleep little one" Spencer coo's, gently petting your back, you relax at his touch, feeling asleep quickly.

You are woken op by the jet landing and Spencer gently rousing you. You hum, still sleepy. "What?" You ask, blinking a few times to really open your eyes. Spencer's helping you to your feet, arm around your waist. You pout when you realize you no longer have your pacifier. Spencer gently coaxes you op and fixes your clothes. You whine lightly, looking around for your pacifier. He slips it back in your mouth and you smile sleeply. "Come on Baby, Emily's taking us home" Spencer says, guiding you down from the plane stairs. "Cold" You mumble, shivering. "I know baby it's okay" He reasures you as the two of you get in the back of Emily's SUV. Spencer gently buckles you in and lays his jacket over you. "Thank you daddy" You mumble without thought. Spencer blushes and you can hear Emily laughing lightly. But only barely, you're too tired to care. You lean close to Spencer, snuggling close.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds y/n #fem reader #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds agere #little reader #caregiver!spencer reid #caregiver spencer reid #cg!spencer reid

219 notes · View notes

raphael-angele · 9 months ago

Text

Exotic Pets I think PJO Characters would own

Disclaimer: This post does not encourage the purchase or distribution of exotic/endangered animals to be kept in captivity. This is completely for entertainment purposes

Percy owns a Blue Mosaic Axolotl and he named it Mandy. This is because he originally thought she was a salamander. When he took it home and showed it to Annabeth, she corrected him but the name already stuck.

Annabeth has a Canary Barn Owl named Cato. She does not own this owl per se. Cato was flying near their apartment when Annabeth decided to leave some food out for him. Since then, Cato has been keeping an eye on her and following her around from the apartment to her college campus to the grocery store.

Grover has a Kinkajou he named Jumper. Again, he does not particularly own him. Jumper just happened to jump onto his shoulder while he was taking a hike through the woods one night. Jumper was hungry so Grover gave him some food. Every now and then, Grover would go back and feed him.

Nico (besides Cerby) owns two melanistic foxes named Aspen and Amber. No one knows the true origin of these foxes, all the campers know is that they just showed up out of no where and follow Nico around. Despite what they think, Aspen and Amber are actually very friendly and they only get defensive if you intend to harm Nico (besides Percy. They hate Percy for some reason).

Jason has a Racoon Dog named Jojo. Jason found Jojo while he was out for a walk. It was raining and it looked like Jojo was injured. Thankfully, they weren't that far from camp so he took him back and gave him a warm bath and treated him. Once Jojo was fully healed, Jason tried to release him back out there but he wouldn't leave

Piper has Anna's Hummingbirds. She built a bird house one time with Leo and hung it outside of the cabin. Next thing she knows, hummingbirds are inhabiting it. Two paticular hummingbirds she sees are two Anna's hummingbirds she named Luna and Aurelia.

Reyna (besides her two dogs) has a Serval Cat she named Aenea. Reyna does not own her but she goes to feed her every now and then and lets her take shelter during storms or when she wants

Bianca has an Unkindness of Ravens. Not one, not two, an Unkindness. EDIT: She was on a quest with the hunters one time and the ravens warned her about where they were going, where they should go, etc. The ravens got attached to her, being the daughter of the dead. And she eventually got used to it, but some of the hunters still get jumpscares when they wake up and see Bianca being surrounded by dozens of ravens. Two Ravens in particular, she named Argus and Sergio. These two are in charge of looking after Nico. Yes, she can speak to them; Yes, they are also messenger birds.

Thalia has a Sugar Glider named Jason. She found him on the shelf in her cabin looking for food. She was about to help him down when he flew to the drawer beside her bed. She took him to Annabeth to figure out what he is. She gave him some food after that and thought that he reminded him of Jason.

Hazel has a Chinchilla named Amy. Amy (short for Amethyst) looks like she's purple but really, she's a mix of grey and blue, which is why she looks purple. Amy was actually a gift from Frank.

Will, scarily enough, has an Edit 2: Sunbeam Snake he named Bowie. Again, no one knows where he came from, they just walked into the Apollo Cabin and freak out when they see the snake slithering around the cabin and they just go, "Oh, don't worry, that's just Bowie". Bowie only likes being held by the Apollo kids and Nico.

Leo has a Tarantula named Felix (Fix for short). Oddly enough, Leo was never scared of spiders, if anything, he loves them. The Athena Cabin always asks for his help to get rid of spiders. He found Fix crawling on his work table, almost getting killed when he interfered. He scooped him up and sent him back into the woods. The next day, he found him again on his table. He kept putting him back till he gave up and made a little space for him

#might reblog this and make more #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson headcanon #percy jackson #grover underwood #annabeth chase #reyna avila ramirez arellano #will solace #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #thalia grace #jason grace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #leo valdez #greek mythology

87 notes · View notes

throneofsapphics · 1 year ago

Note

So glad that angst is your love language bc it’s the best! You’re also incredible at writing it.

Idea for a poly!Manorian (could be any couple though) where reader is traveling but her group is ambushed and when the news gets back to them they’re told reader is assumed dead? Eventually they find out (how is up to you) that whoever ambushed the group has actually had the reader the whole time trying to get info from her. Tearful reunion scene where reader is in bad shape but just happy to see them and admits she was afraid they weren’t coming for her?

Feel free to adjust/change anything! Love your writing!

we’ll always come for you

Manorian x f!Reader

Summary: Reader goes missing

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: injuries, blood, death, implied torture

A/N: thank you for the request!!

She was supposed to arrive home a few days ago, and it wasn’t unusual for her trips to run a few days late, considering her habit of detouring to see different things she heard about, or hiking up a hill or mountain that might have a pretty view. It set Manon relentlessly on edge, but she grew used to it over the years they’d been together.

Still, she usually sent word through a messenger if she would be late.

That afternoon, word did come.

“The entire group was found dead. It’s estimated they were killed a week ago.” The guard swallowed harshly, and she could see the anger and disbelief on his face. Y/n was a favorite in the Rifthold, everyone seemed to admire her and she always had friends all over the city.

“Bodies,” Manon snapped, “Is there a body?” She forced her personal emotions down. She wouldn’t believe it, not unless there was proof.

“All except for y/n.” There’s still hope then, still hope that she could be alive somewhere. A dangerous hope but she let it fill her nonetheless.

“Then we search for her.” Dorian’s voice rang clear, “We don’t stop until …”

“Yes, your Majesty.” The guard bowed, backing away from the room. Dorian’s shield didn’t go up in time to catch Manon’s heartbreaking cry. He’d never heard a noise like that from her before, and the silent tears streaming down both of their faces faded to anger after a few minutes.

They didn’t need to discuss it to know they both would be going after her, to search for her themselves regardless of what anyone might say. Manon saddled Abraxos swiftly, donning more metal than any person should be able to carry. He shifted into a raven and they both took to the skies.

She wasn’t sure if they would come, it had been over a week at this point. Y/n had fought her hardest, but the sheer numbers overwhelmed her and her three friends. They’d all been killed, and she was filled with endless guilt, even as they tried every method they could think of to get information out of her. This was her fault, she should’ve protected them - should’ve done better. The spiral of her thoughts served as a distraction from the pain they were inducing. They kept her on the brink of death, a small threat hovering over her shoulder. Iron kept her from using the little magic she did have and she despised it, felt it crawling under her skin but unable to free itself.

She didn’t know much, but what she did she would die before giving to them. Perhaps in a pitiful state, but with honor and courage. Y/n knows she’s in the ruins of Morath, and that they had at least one magic wielder with them - she felt the shields and how they would redirect their scents to cover tracks. The fact that a magic wielder would ally with whoever these people are disturbed her. Of course, they hadn’t told her anything about who they were and what they wanted, but it didn��t take a genius to put together they had something against Adarlan’s and the Witch Kingdom’s current rulers.

Her friends had died before she could so much as blink, and she’d been useless against the overwhelming numbers. All three of them, she remembered seeing their glassy eyes and slit throats as a bag was shoved over her head, iron cuffs locking around her wrists, and something heavy hitting her temple and knocking her unconscious.

All trails were a dead end. Whoever took her, or hid her body, had hidden the scents well. Manon couldn’t find any traces. Her body. Even thinking about that made Dorian want to throw up everything he’d ate in the last week. Not that he’d been able to eat or sleep much, both him and Manon were restless any minute they weren’t looking for her.

“She’s not dead,” Manon had insisted. “I would be able to feel it.”

Dorian nodded and didn’t contradict her, that would only lead to another fight. Her survival was looking less and less likely each day. He knew the statistics, but also knew your strength, and that you’d hold on or out as long as you can.

“If anyone,” he gulped, hating the words about to come out of his mouth, “has her - she’s likely more valuable to them alive.”

Most of his court, probably would have looked at him in disgust for saying that but Manon agreed with him. Valuable to any would-be kidnappers because of her connection to them. The partner of two different ruling kingdoms in Erilea. Their relationship could be the thing both dooming her and keeping her alive at this time.

Ten days after her disappearance, an urgent knock came to their door. To their private rooms. Dorian intercepted before Manon could stalk forward and likely bite the head off of whoever disturbed them.

A slightly red faced guard stood at the door, one familiar to him, looking like he’d just run several miles to get here. “They have a lead.”

Manon darted behind him, pushing him slightly so she could stand in the doorway as well.

“Where?” She demanded. The male’s face paled slightly when faced with her, but recited what they’d found. One of their spies overheard a villager in a tavern commenting on seeing a strange looking group of people trekking through around the same timeframe, asking if anyone else had seen them.

The spy - a fae who could shift into a sparrow, followed the trail from village to village, asking pointed questions and getting a read on the location. They’d caught her scent as well. And fresh. Deep in the ruins of Morath.

Fifteen men, all human but well armed. He glanced quickly at Manon. The two of them could easily take on those odds. But, with her life at risk … it would take days for any others to reach the location from here. Once the door shut, Manon swallowed harshly. “Bronwen is here.” A few of the witches she ruled with were already visiting, and as soon as they caught wind of it they started looking for her as well, despite any of Manon’s protests. Y/n was a favorite in the Witch Kingdom as well, with her ability to put people at rest and easily charm them.

Before Dorian could comment, Manon spoke again, “she’s … one of her close friends. She would want to help.”

“It can’t hurt, if she wants to.” Manon hesitated, and he knew exactly why. “She would be upset if you didn’t ask.”

Manon blinked once before nodding. Brownen would be offended, and likely give Manon an earful once she heard wind of it.

“Right.” She hurried and gathered every bit of metal she could and he copied her before they trailed the halls to the witches quarters.

With three people capable of flight and detailed instructions, they were able to make good times towards Morath, arriving within two days - barely resting, just enough to recover.

She managed to count twelve days by the faint sunlight peeking into the cave, although she realized that might be her mind deceiving her at this point. She’s seen enough injuries to know she’s not in ideal shape, and that the risk of infection is getting closer and closer with each day, and that death is creeping over her shoulder, whispering to her about how easy it would be to give in. It would … but that’s not what she wanted, even if she was slowly losing hope of anyone finding her. They’d either kill her or let her go eventually, and she could hold out for that.

A large explosion seemed to shake the entire area, dust pouring down from the ceiling. The men around her were all in uproar, trying to see what caused the explosion - and crowding towards the exit of the cave.

She caught a beam of light bouncing off steel and there was a whirl of iron nails and swords in front of her, spraying and painting the walls. Three figures she could make out through the haze that creeped in each day. Dorian, Manon, and Bronwen. She could have cried in relief. Within a minute, all except one were cut down. She vaguely noticed Manon interrogating him, but Dorian’s hands were on her, and he shouted for Bronwen to find a key.

Y/n collapsed into him as the iron around her wrists was released. She saw the worried looks on both of their faces, and Gods she knew she looked horrible but seeing their expressions made it all worse.

Like they were somehow communicating with each other, both of their magics flowed over her, healing the most serious of injuries. As soon as she was healed enough, Bronwen was shoved out of the way by Manon and the other witch didn’t protest, only backed away to check on the rest of the scene.

Manon’s hands ran over her cheeks, her eyes wide as if she was memorizing her - like she’s a ghost that might disappear at any minute.

“I didn’t,” your voice was rough from non-use and screaming but you managed to get the words out, “know if you would …”

“We’ll always come for you,” Manon said harshly and insistently. She felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes and cursed herself for ever doubting them. Her voice softened slightly as she brushed away a tear, “I promise.”

Dorian caught your hand, giving a small squeeze to communicate the same thing. You believed both of them.

#throne of glass fic #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass x reader #manorian x reader #manorian x y/n #poly!manorian #poly!manorian x reader #poly!manorian x y/n #manon blackbeak x y/n #manon blackbeak x reader #dorian havilliard x y/n #dorian havilliard x reader

117 notes · View notes

epic-kotlc-crossover · 1 month ago

Text

Bonus Chapter!!!

extra content for our readers :) love you guys <333

@ham-cheese-toastie @myfairkatiecat @sombrathedragon @imnotskyguy-remake @bookwormgirl123

@justalunaticfangirl @thesfromhms @yellow-computer-mouse

After his encounter with the god of messengers, Fitz hiked back to the empty --except for Keefe-- ship. He lay in his hammock, staring into space.

SOPHIE!! he transmitted. It felt like a boulder was sitting on his brain when he tried to call her name. Weird.

MARELLA?? he yelled into the void. Surely his daughter wouldn't ignore him. There was no response, and he tried again, over and over. What if they were... No. He refused to believe that his family was dead.

Then he remembered Poseidon's threat: "If you rely too much on your telepathy, I might just need to take it away."

Could he have...? They were at sea, in his terrain. Maybe he could control things like that.

Keefe? he tried. Keefe was lying below deck, surely it would work.

But it didn't.

Fitz got a sinking feeling in his gut. Poseidon had stripped him of his telepathy.

#epic the musical #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc #fitz vacker #odysseus

16 notes · View notes

officialdaydreamer00 · 11 months ago

Note

star child!! please deliver my letter(⁠~° - °)⁠~🍫🍭🍬🎂🍧🍯🍩🍭🍩🎂🍧🍩🍫🍯🍧🍬🍭🎂🍬🍭🍩🎂🍩🎂

To my beloved Jade,

How are you, my love? It's quite cold here where I am, and I see it's snowing in Twisted Wonderland. I know you're not much affected by the cold, but I do hope you'll stay warm. I fear we may never be able to share each others' warmth, so at the very least, keeping yourself warm with me in mind might make up for it. Think of it as my concern for you transcending our realms.

It's almost a year since I've met you, time really does fly quickly, doesn't it? You've brought me so many beautiful emotions, and though not always positive, I've enjoyed and treasured every single one. Seeing you has really become quite a highlight of my year, I hope you might feel the same.

You would likely call me foolish for hoping this, but I genuinely do hope our realms will cross one day. Then I'd be able to cook for you and watch you eat contently, I could go hiking with you and make terrariums with you, and maybe you could join me in some of my hobbies too. This world as it is now, is far too cruel for us, don't you think?

Time is running out, so I'll end this letter quickly. I love you dearly, from the bottom of my heart, and I think of you ever moment I am wake, and I dream of you when I'm not. You are so incredibly important to me, you silly sly eel.

Oh, and I do hope you'll be able to spare more time for me this Halloween hahaha, I'd love to see more of you in your costume.

Yours till the end of time,

Your Sunflower

i hope this isn't too long hehe, love this new event sm💕

*happily yoinks the sweets* you got it bossman!! (can't believe you're the first one again, rinna :O it must be fate!!)

My dearest Sunflower,

I am overjoyed to receive a letter from you. I sure hope you are keeping yourself warm and healthy in this cold weather.

Indeed, it is snowing in Twisted Wonderland, and while I am not affected, as you have said, it warms my heart seeing how many thoughts you put into this silly little eel. I am so proud of you, my dear, and every effort you made in your own everyday life.

Time truly does seem to fly so quickly whenever I am with you. My heart longs to see you more and more with each passing day, and it aches when you have to leave. As much as it pains me, I understand why. It is your own life, after all.

But Sunflower, dearest, every one of those moments with you are, and will always be, held dear to my heart. If the mere wish of meeting you and holding you in my arms is what you called foolish, then I, too, am a fool. For I dared to cling to a dream that may never come true. Still, I know it is just wistful thinking, but perhaps this is the chance that the universe is giving us to connect, albeit through just a letter.

I should not let our dear messenger waiting for too long. I love you to the moon and back, Sunflower. You occupied my every waking thought, and my every dream. You are just as important to me as I am to you.

Sincerely yours,

Jade Leech♡

P.S. I look forward to our time together this Halloween

tags: @azulashengrottospiano @aqua-beam @identity-theft-101 @moonlit-midnight @siren-serenity @dove-da-birb @krenenbaker @mermaidfanficlibrary @cave-of-jade @thehollowwriter @jaylleoo14

remember to reblog if you enjoy my works! ^-^

#irene's writings ♡#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fluff #jade leech #twst jade leech #twst jade #jade leech x reader #twst jade x reader #jade x reader #jade leech fluff #letters from the stars 🌠

49 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years ago

Text

Only One I See

Sequel to One is the Loneliest Number, One on One, One Little Thing

Warnings: none, Professor Steve (that’s a warning in itself)

Dunno if I’ll be doing an exhaustive drabble series but there’s at least this. Let me know if you’re enjoying it or not and any thoughts you have. Love you!

“Nothing going on,” Inez nudges you as she stands with her copy of Wuthering Heights, “you’re a terrible liar. And so is the professor.”

“What are you talking about?” You keep your voice low as you shove your book in your bag, “I wish you’d stop.”

“Oh, come on,” she looks around at the dozen other members who showed up that week. You felt a sense of relief at seeing so many, a feeling that mirrored Steve’s, no, Professor’s expression, “we’re sitting here arguing over sexy ghost man and he’s zooot!” She makes a pinch motion with all her fingers, “pinpointed, right on you.”

“N-no,” you sniff, “I didn’t… I didn’t even say much–”

“Exactly,” she hikes her messenger bag onto her shoulder as you zip your pink polka dot backpack, “you don’t have to say anything, little miss brownie.”

“Ew, no, no, he’s…” you glance over at Rogers, another student, Lulu, stands in front of him with her copy of Bronte open. His eyes meet yours and he smiles, tweaking a brow at you, “he’s our professor. He’s…” you step closer to her and hide your whisper behind your hand, “old.”

“Not that old,” she chirps, “come on. He’s what forty? Maybe a few years over, and he’s constantly surrounded by young girls– case and point.”

She tosses another look in his direction and you see how Ainsley leans on him and giggles. He seems slightly bothered as he lets out a deep breath and pats her hand as he coaxes her away, all the while he continues to make his point. You catch a few words, something about Catherine.

“Look around you, sunshine, do you see a single male specimen here?”

“Well,” you pull the straps of your bags up your arms, “Dani is nonbinary so–”

“Yeah but they still like dick,” she giggles.

“Oh, god, why do you have to be so gross?”

“Please tell me you weren’t that one in high school? The prude? You’re cute, I’m sure at least one guy–”

“This is college,” you insist, trying to restrain your embarrassment, “I told you, and I don’t want to keep saying it, but I’m not interested in Professor Rogers.”

“Alright, alright,” she raises her hands defensively, “so how about–”

“Excuse me,” the deep tone undercuts her detour and you pout helplessly as you turn reluctantly to the professor. You hope he didn’t hear any of that, “before you go, I found this good app for these sort of things. Helps track your reading,” he explains as he holds out a clipboard, “I’m just getting phone numbers to add everyone to the group.”

“Oh, BookSnoop, yeah I’ve heard of that,” Inez says cheerily and sends you a guilty look, “uh, here, let me give you my number.”

She takes the clipboard first and scribbles down her number then hands it to you. You do the same and give it back, the brush of fingertips with the professor making you wince, “thanks, professor.”

“Of course, and… I had an idea. I was talking to management at Marge’s, I might be able to host one of these things there.”

“Oh, that’s so cool,” you say, “I might get a bit distracted by the sweets though.”

“Count us in,” Inez grumbles, “I hate these old classrooms. They smell like khaki.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Rogers appears slightly perplexed by her comment, “well, thanks for signing up,” he hugs the clipboard against one side of his chest, “and don’t forget about your book review next class.”

“Uh, how could we forget?” Inez chuckles nervously and grabs your elbow, “excuse us, professor, we’re late for, uh… a party.”

“Okay, er, um, be safe,” he backs away awkwardly, “see you in class.”

“Buh bye,” Inez toss over her shoulder as she urges you to the door and you barely squeeze through the door ahead of her, nearly crushing against her in the tight frame.

“What’s going on? A party?” You sputter as you plant your feet.

“Look, I totally forgot about the uh, book review, so how do you feel about an all-nighter?”

“In,” you exclaim, “are you kidding me?”

“Come on, I need you to keep me awake,” she whines, “pweez, pwetty pweez, I wuv you, you know that right?”

“Don’t do that,” you sneer, “fine, I’ll help you but I swear, next time, you’re on your own. You know, I have other classes. History papers I don’t want to write.”

“Well that’s convenient, because I haven’t done Laufeyson’s paper either,” she cackles, “it’s fate.”

📃

You rub your eyes and yawn over your cold coffee cup. Inez is barely awake, her head in her hand as she scrolls on her laptop. You feel like you’re looking in a mirror, so tired your head feels like a boulder.

You scratch out notes about the Communist Revolution in your notebook, trying to make sense of it all in your fatigue fuzzed mind. As you put your pen down to stretch your cramped fingers, the subtle clack of Inez’ keyboard tapping in the silent library, your phone buzzes. The noise is loud, jarring in the lull.

She’s unbothered as her lips move with the words she types. You wonder if she’s even typing words. You have class at noon so you might get a few hours before you have to weave your way back onto campus. You snatch up your phone and unlock it, leaning back dangerously in the heavily wooden chair.

‘Hope you got home safe’ the text reads, the number unfamiliar.

You put the phone down, assuming it’s a wrong number. You trail your fingers over your brow as Inez chews her thumb.

“What another way to say therefore, I think I’ve typed that a thousand times,” she murmurs.

“Thus, and so, consequently…” you say as you phone vibes again.

‘You didn’t drink too much, did you?’

You scowl at the screen and thumb in your response lazily, ‘I think you have the wrong number’.

Three dots appear almost as soon as you hit send. ‘It’s Steve. Checking in. Making sure you’re okay. That’s all.’

For a moment, you’re confused. Then you remember jotting down your number on the board.

You peek up at Inez, she’s swaying before her laptop. Should you tell her? No, she’d just tease you again. He’s just nice. Maybe a bit too concerned.

‘I’m fine, professor. Just going to sleep. Good night’. There, that’ll put an end to it.

‘Sweet dreams’ he replies. You don’t answer but another message comes in. A pink heart.

You lock the phone and sigh. You’re too tired. Besides, you know how older people are with emojis. Your mother kept sending the cry laugh emoji in very serious conversations.

“Inez,” you say gruffly, “let’s go. I need sleep.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #series #professor!steve #marvel #mcu #au #avenger #captain america #drabble series

369 notes · View notes