HELLO! i’m once again begging for the green goblin mask to call out to you and write more atlas x reader!!!
perhaps maybe someone who is not a magician stumbling into his world of high stakes missions and illusions! or vice versa! high strung atlas suddenly in reader’s slower paced environment but both have the same drive to do good for the world.
IDK IDK IM SPITBALLING HERE. literally you could write anything and i’ll eat it up HAHA.
in which you get atlas to finally shut up, ty for the request!
It's the middle of winter, one of the coldest days of the year, and the heat inside the store is the only thing keeping you sane. You hate winter, but this year you're trying to love it. You take your “hot girl” walks, you have your hot beverages, you thrifted some cute winter clothes. You're being soft with yourself and kind and gentle and all of the things. You're trying, goddamnit, but you can't deny that you're a summer girlie, through and through. So when a man storms through the front door of the shop sending the bell ringing wildly and bringing gusts of cold air in with him, you can't help but be a little bit annoyed.
His eyes are agitated as he makes his way through to nonfiction and he's huffing and puffing the whole way. You don't feel like saying your usual welcome because he's moving so fast, but you do think you should go offer assistance. Though if you're honest, he does make you nervous. His demeanor and all. You approach cautiously, like he’s a wild animal who will spook at the slightest provocation.
“Excuse me, is there anything I can help you with, or are you just browsing?” Of course he's not browsing, he's a man with a purpose. But, you’re trying to be nicer with yourself and the cold is making you grumpy, so you decide the politesse can be forgiven.
He turns and looks at you. He doesn't say anything, he just looks at you. His eyes clear up a bit though, so that's something.
“If you're looking for something specific, we could check and see if we have it in stock for you.”
He continues to just stand there, so you take it upon yourself to start turning around to head back to the counter. Your warm beverage is once again calling you, and you're about to clock off.
“Well, let me know if you happen to decide.”
You're at the counter about twenty minutes later when you hear someone walk up and set a book in your peripheral. You look up from an email about new inventory to meet two blue eyes and a gentle nod of acknowledgement. You notice the sharpness of his jawline, sharp enough to cut yourself if you brushed your fingers across it. There’s something about him that makes you want to hold his face in your hands.
Looking down at the book, you see it's a Greek myth anthology. The topic of Greek myth always makes you feel soft and you relax just thinking about it. But this man’s intense gaze makes your body smart like a live wire. You're not sure how to feel about it. You wonder if he’s ever had someone hold him gently, or if he’s always prepared to be broken. Maybe you should tell him to go to a lake, the water would surely do the trick.
“Will this be all for you today?” You find your voice.
He nods but doesn't give a verbal response. He looks at your eyes, then down at the counter, then back up to scan your face.
“Did you find everything okay?”
You’re very tempted to roll your eyes, but you don’t. Customer service and all that nonsense. You asked him repeatedly if he needed anything and now he’s saying that he couldn’t find everything okay. You decide to forgo any snarky comments in favor of reminding yourself that you get to clock out in five minutes.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, we offer surveys on our website for any feedback you may have.”
“Would you want to go grab coffee with me?”
It’s so abrupt that you forget what you’re saying, and the spiel you have prepared for checkouts goes completely out of your head. You really hope your forehead hasn’t gone red, that’s your dead giveaway for whether you’re blushing or not.
You look at him, and really study him, and he’s not so bad looking. He’s a pretty boy. His hair is doing a funny swooping thing that’s endearing. His eyes have softened toward you, his shoulders hunching as if embarrassed that he’s even asked this question, but he’s got this damn smirk on his face that somehow cancels it all out. You don’t know which way to parse it, but you kind of want to try. This guy is intriguing for sure, and you always have a knife in your pocket so you might as well try just to see what happens.
You, however, are quiet when you answer, “Uh, sure. I get off work in four minutes if you’d wait for me.”
He smiles big, and gives you a nod. He turns to go outside but forgets his book and then turns back around to pick it up and walk out, but he forgets to pay and turns back around again.
“I’m so sorry, hear let me–” and he reaches behind your ear and into your hair, you flinch a little but he brings out a crisp twenty. “I knew I left that somewhere.” And he winks at you before turning and heading out to stand by the front window. You stand there, struck for about two of your final three minutes, wondering what the hell just happened.
About an hour later, hot cups in hand, you ask him if he wants to go for a walk, and he agrees. Outside, the air is still frigid, but with a warm beverage and a warm person walking next to you, not that you’d noticed how warm he is, it’s not too bad. And, walking is exercise, so your muscles are warming up some anyway. And, you’re really just trying to convince yourself that winter is fun and enjoyable. Better to move on with a conversation as a distraction.
“What?” like he’s forgotten the book he just bought, and maybe he has. He seems quite distracted and he’s got this furrow right between his eyebrows like that’s his natural state of being. You really want to touch it but you can’t bring yourself to ask why.
“Greek myths. Work or leisure?” You admire the scrollwork of the iron fence as you walk. He clears his throat, distracting you momentarily, but then you notice a pretty window with blue shutters that makes you smile.
“Oh… both? If you do what you love, you never work a day in your life, right?”
“Yeah, you find something you love and the sky’s the limit.”
“I find that once you realize the sky is a relative term, there is no limit.”
You turn your head to look at him and discover that he’s already looking at you, and he’s drinking in your face like he wants to remember your expression. Somehow the two of you have drifted closer together so your shoulders are near touching, but he takes a big stride forward and there’s nothing you can do but follow after him.
As you pass a park, you tug his coat sleeve to (gently) drag him through the gates. You love the park, and it’s one of the only places that’s bearable to walk in hellish January. The tree branches carve against the sky in ways that please the eye. When the frost covers the grass in the early mornings, it sparkles. And, most of the time, the sky is clear enough to warm your face. Cloudy days don’t agree with your freckles.
He watches you watch the perennials; that you soften when you see the pops of color along the ground, and he thinks to himself that he’s got to buy you some flowers soon. He realized at some point along the walk, that he doesn’t want to talk while he’s around you. You’ve made him quiet and he’s contented just to look at you absorbing the world. Everything you do is gentle and he wants to soak it in and calm his wily mind. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s noticed the color of the sky, but you can bet that he noted it when you pointed it out to him.
He grabbed a marigold from the ground while you were busy watching a cardinal. He tugs your shoulder to turn you around and you blink at him like you’re coming out of a trance.
“Could I borrow your hand, please?” You squint at him like you aren’t sure, but you bring your fist up between your bodies. He cups your hand in the two of his and gently blows on your fingers. “Open it.”
You open your fingers and in your palm sits a small marigold bloom and you can’t help but laugh, long and loud. The pop of yellow in your palm is the prettiest thing you’ve seen today, you decide. You hold the bloom up so you can see the yellow against the blue of his eyes.
“Thank you,” you look at him for a moment and decide that maybe you do want to do this again. You wouldn’t mind taking another walk with him, if this is how it goes.
Then a dog barks and you turn your head to look at it. You continue walking and like there’s a string attached to you, pulling him along, he can’t help but follow.
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