#I should also probs decide what books are being brought too :

[sweet-as-kiwis]

I should pack my clothes for college! That’s such a great idea! (<- just packed all the clothes they Like wearing and is left with a single outfit for five days)

[anyoneseenadam]

Hii

Can you please write something for fenrys? first meeting maybe? And the bond clicks? Thank you 🥺🥺

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: implied smut, kissing and nudity, lil bit of blood and injuries but mainly pure fluff

a/n: fenrys is my fave and u can tell in the fic omg!! i hope you enjoy it cause it’s probs my fave one i’ve written yet :))) (i also made it a teensy bit ddlg but that’s just cause i want Fenrys to baby me lol)

——————————————————————————

Shit

Fenrys pressed his hand to the wound in his side, feeling the slow pump of blood seeping between his fingers as he stumbled through the woods. He had won the fight. The other guy now lying in the dirt, however not without consequence. And he wasn’t entirely sure he would stay alive unless he could find a healer soon.

He stopped to lean against a tree, breathing heavily as he held himself together. He transformed into a wolf, moving faster, and trying to pick up a scent, any scent, that could possibly help him, when he caught the sweetest smell he ever had. It was a female, smelling like peonies and blackberries, sweet but with an underlying smoky smell. She smelled of long days in flowers fields and even longer nights beside campfires, evenings spent curled in hand woven blankets and mornings spent drinking dark coffee and eating sweet toast.

He whimpered and began running in the direction of the scent. If he wasn’t so focused on not bleeding out he may have stopped to consider why the scent was pulling him in the way it did. He would have considered the direction he was running into, the direction of his future, his past and his present. But he just kept up, going as fast as his injured body would allow, concentrating on the sweet smell and putting one foot in front of the other.

He felt the change almost immediately, the cold snow and rough bark being swapped for cool moss. The pine trees swapped for tall, oak trees teeming with life. The silence of a frozen forest swapped for the rustling of bushes as nocturnal animals moved silently under the guise of darkness. The chill of the snow-covered woods swapped for the warmth of a summer evening. He pushed between two bushes and found himself facing a clearing, in the middle of which stood a wooden cottage, the wood dark and the roof covered in more moss, flowers growing from every surface and ivy peeking out of the crevices in the house. He stumbled down the path to the cottage, turning back into a male and crossing a small bridge over a stream that separated him from the intoxicating scent he chased.

He let out what he could only describe as a bark, calling for the female that carried the scent he was growing addicted to, collapsing onto his knees, feeling his conscious fade as he held to the side of his stomach, searing pain replaced by fiery veins as his head swayed. He barely heard the door open, only noticing the scent get so much stronger. He attempted to look up, the movement making his head spin as he collapsed, the last thing he saw, a girl in the halo of the moon.

--

Fenrys awoke in a foreign bed. An unbelievably comfortable bed, but foreign all the same. He pushed up on his forearms, gritting his teeth at the reminder of his wound.

The room he was in was dark, not just in light source, but also in décor. The window was cracked open with lacy curtains half closed, there was a tall bookshelf sat next to a desk with leather-bound books lining it, and tall candles flickering and casting the room in a golden glow. The bed he was in was small, clearly just for one, but so soft. He had blankets surrounding him and copious amounts of pillows, some that appeared hand made. In fact, upon closer inspection, a lot of the room looked handmade. Art covering the walls depicting crying women or bloody scenes that he presumed had been done by the owner of this house, given the pallet and assortment of brushed he saw on the windowsill.

And then there was that scent. It was stronger here and he pressed his face into a pillow tentatively, breathing in through his nose as he picked up on the deeper undertones. Fresh picked daisies, melted wax, the pages of old, worn books and something he couldn’t describe. Something so intoxicating he felt tears spring to his eyes, his body reacting in an unheard-of way, so overcome with emotion from scent alone.

He heard footsteps approaching the closed door and hastily put down the pillow, sitting up straight and readying himself to fight whoever it was if they were an intruder. But when you entered he faltered.

Mate. The word clanged through him as he came face to face with an angel. You were wearing a dark brown broderie dress with white hearts lining the hem, your feet bare and toenails painted black. Your hair was falling around your face, messy and untamed, and you had dark smudges around your eyes, makeup that accentuated your features and made you look like a character from the scary books he read as a boy. However right now you looked more like a teddy bear.

He briefly remembered the tail of a witch he had read. An evil witch who lured men into her house with whispered words and sweet kisses, only to steal their hearts and use their blood to keep her skin young and eyes bright. This girl however was no witch, you had elegantly pointed ears and a graceful way of moving that only came from being Fae. He watched as you moved to his side, silent on your feet, putting a tray down beside him before moving an opening the curtains further, letting in more natural light.

“How are you feeling?” your sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. His mind coming to a halt as he heard you speak.

“I- er fine..?” His voice was rough, and you smiled, a reserved smile. Moving to his side and sitting at the edge of the small bed he was on, pouring him a glass of water from a small decanter you had brought through.

“(Y/n.)” you answered his unspoken question.

“Fenrys.”

He muttered a thanks as you passed the glass to him, noting the crystals that hung around your neck and adorned your fingers.

“Crystals?” he asked, and you looked down, playing with the rings you wore nervously.

“My mother taught me about their meanings, they’ve always helped me.” You bit your lip and Fenrys decided he would never meet anyone as cute as you again, it simply wasn’t possible.

“Me too, my mother used to carry them everywhere.” You smiled at him shyly, a beat of silence passing between the two of you as he listened to the birds outside.

“Can I see your wound? I want it make sure it’s healing properly.” You asked and he nodded, pulling the blankets down slightly, grinning as your eyes widened as you took in his physique.

“I’m presuming you’re the healer I have to thank for letting me see another day.” He flirted playfully but you shook your head,

“I’m not a very good healer I’m sorry, but I did stitch it up and it should do the rest itself.” You pressed gentle fingers against the skin surrounding his wound and he glanced down, seeing it was already practically healed.

“You still saved my life.” He said, completely serious and you looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“I’ll let you rest.” You said quietly, standing to walk away and he smiled, feeling more at ease than he ever had since the war, watching his little mate leave.

--

He woke up again a few hours later, wound completely healed and puckering into a scar. Standing he stretched his arms above his head, not bothering with a shirt as he left the room in search of the girl that had occupied his dreams.

The rest of the house was alike your room, tall candles and worn books everywhere. He passed a kitchen filled with copper utensils and a living room with an old armchair, a half-filled mug left next to it, but still no you. He saw the front door was cracked open and wandered over to it, pulling it open and stepping into the fresh air, barely feeling the chill on his body as he found you kneeling on the moss-covered ground facing away from him.

You were muttering under your breath and as he got closer he saw you were cradling a small bird with a broken wing. He watched as you closed your eyes, the ground and air seeming to still as you called upon your magic, a soft white light flowing from your hand into the bird until its wing was healed and it could flutter away.

“I thought you said you weren’t a healer,” he broke the silence and you turned to him with a small smile.

“I said I wasn’t a very good healer.” You replied, standing with green stained knees, your hair now piled atop your head and lip gloss coating your soft lips.

“What are you then?” he came closer to you, unable to resist holding his mate, even if you weren’t aware yet.

“My mother said we were natural faeries.” You said, looking at him shyly, “we derive our power from the earth, crystals, sea water, dirt, fire, stuff like that.”

He hummed, “So technically you could have any type of magic?”

“I guess, but I’m not very good at magic,” you muttered, hands fiddling with your rings again as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Fenrys?” you asked, all pouty lips and wide eyes.

“Have you realised yet darling?” he asked, and you bit your lip. He knew he could tell you, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“I- we’re mates I think.” You were practically shaking, and he didn’t know why he suddenly had this burning desire to scoop you into his arms and protect you against the horrible world that was out there. He nodded with a smile, watching as awe took over your stunning face.

“Can I kiss you princess?” he asked, and you felt your face heat up, looking down as he pulled you closer. “Have you ever been kissed before angel?” he asked, his face hurting from the grin that was spreading over his face when you shook your head.

He tilted your head up to his, looking deeply into your eyes as your breaths came out quicker. “Not many people can find our cottage, my mother put up wards when she got ill, our family wasn’t well liked by the king. You probably only got here because we’re mates,” You muttered.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked again, running a soft hand over your head, smoothing your hair away from your face as you nodded sweetly.

He smiled before leaning down and kissing you gently. Pulling away and feeling as smug as a thief when your lips followed his, pouting at the loss of contact so quickly. He chuckled at your put out expression and leaned down to kiss you again, deeper this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you gasped against his lips, quickly beating your own in a battle for dominance and taking his time exploring your mouth.

He laid you down that morning and took you for the first time in the soft moss. Then again in your even softer bed. Now you were sitting in his lap, eating strawberries of a bush you had in your back garden as he pressed dizzying kisses into your neck, both of you still as bare as the day you were born, Fenrys having forgot how much he missed skin to skin contact, when you suddenly remembered.

“Fenrys?” he hummed in response, completely enamoured with the feel of your soft skin against his rough calluses. “Why were you hurt last night?”

“I didn’t tell you my job did I angel?” he asked, the pet name making you giggle as you shook your head, “I work for the queen of Terrasen.”

You gasped, “But she was killed!”

“Oh angel, when was the last time you left this cottage?” he asked, worry coming over him as he realised you had been holed up alone for so long.

“Not since my mother died. She said the king was dangerous and that he would hurt me if he found me,” your bottom lip was wobbling and Fenrys quickly kissed it away, shushing you as it dawned on him just how innocent his little girl was.

“No baby, he’s gone now, the new king of Adarlan is a very kind man and the Queen of Terrasen is wonderful,” he promised, “Will you let me take you to meet them?”

You nodded enthusiastically, bouncing slightly in his lap making him groan. He nipped at your ear lobe and you squealed as he pushed you down. You could meet them another day, today he was too busy with his little mate.

[jimlingss]

can i request a yoongi chef au? i feel like yoongi's culinary skills are underrated, and I'm just a slut for chef aus in general

Anonymous said: Hi I saw ur request open posts for the new year!!! Could u write more yoongi stories🥺?!?! Your stories are so fantastic and i’m thirsty for more yoongi lolol🤪(hopefully u get enough votes to do more of him haha)

I feel like Jin’s the one who’s usually written as the chef, prob because he’s the better known chef in BTS, but you’re right! There’s gotta be more chef Yoongi!AUs, so here you go!!!

↳ Buttering Up

2.2k || 100% Fluff & Flirtation || Min Yoongi || Chef!AU

He clearly doesn’t know who you are.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

You hum, arms crossed as you eye him up and down. His black hair is practically a bowl cut, bangs covering his forehead. He’s in casual clothes — a taupe trench and black pants — looking like he’s ready for a trip to the grocery store rather than to cook. You wonder where this child crawled out from.

“You’re Yoongi?”

“That I am.” He approaches the door of the restaurant before plunging his hands inside his trench coat pockets. He fishes out the key and unlocks it, ushering you inside. “Hope you don’t mind that the restaurant’s closed down.”

You mind much more that he left you waiting on the cold city street for over ten minutes. You still can’t believe he was late. The audacity.

“I would’ve liked to see how you and your staff do your dinner service.”

“Unfortunately, we’re booked full for the next two months.”

You scoff — how doesn’t he know who you are? You’re a food critic who’s brought highly regarded restaurants to their knees through a review of five sentences. Your words alone has had rippled effects in the industry. Even the most talented chefs hold their breaths when you taste-test.

You make Gordon Ramsey look like Mother Teresa.

This Yoongi character is much too arrogant to not respect you. His new and upcoming restaurant might have raving reviews, but you’ll see what’s really going on.

“Sit wherever you’d like.”

There are no waiters in fancy garb, no hand sewn tablecloths made of silk. He doesn’t even pull out the chair for you. Instead, he’s off flickering on the lights of the restaurant while you choose a wooden table and chair right in front of his open kitchen — which is a horrible mistake in itself.

Open kitchens have always been a concept that has fallen short in your eyes. It’s much too noisy during dinner service and it gets smelly fast. Who actually wants to leave smelling like butter and oil?

It’s something you note as you get settled. 

Your coat drapes at the back of the chair and then you watch him. Yoongi’s taken off his trench as well, revealing a white long sleeve that he’s beginning to roll up to his elbows. He’s lean and his build is small, but somehow, he’s far from being scrawny. You gawk at the veins running up his forearm until he casually asks—

“Do you have a preference for wine?”

“I’m fine with any.”

He hums and comes over from the glass cabinet with a bottle of chardonnay and a wine glass. Yoongi pops the bottle easily and pours into the pristine glass with a mere tilt of his wrist. You watch the stream fill the glass a quarter way full.

“Is there a menu?”

“You don’t need one.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?” 

“If I were you, I’d put myself in the chef’s hands entirely and go with their recommendation.” He strides away, placing the wine bottle on the other table and then he turns with a glint in his eye and his mouth slightly crooked upwards. “Unless, of course, you don’t trust your chef.”

Oh. He’s confident. 

You can’t wait for his ego to blow up in his face.

“Fine then.” Your head tilts upwards. “What’s your recommendation then?”

He rounds his way to go into the kitchen that’s only a few meters away from where you sit. “Risotto with grilled chicken breast, topped off with caramelized onions, mushroom, grilled zucchini and sautéed tomatoes.”

You roll your eyes. What a basic dish. Isn’t it just rice? And with chicken breast?! Ew. It's guaranteed to be bland.

“Alright then.” You give a smile that might be more mocking than intended. “We’ll see how it tastes.”

Yoongi starts and while sipping the chardonnay, you take a good look at the restaurant from your spot. The place is rustic with a hint of contemporary. There’s exposed brick, wooden tables and chairs, and low, yellow lighting. There’s nothing particularly impressive about the place.

Soon, the sound of rapid, rhythmic chopping fills the space and then sizzling. You watch him intently. And you’re appalled. This Yoongi guy commits the worst cooking sins — his pan is cold when he starts throwing on ingredients. He cooks with olive oil. He overcrowds the pan. And he doesn’t even taste test once as he cooks.

What the actual fuck. 

There’s a line between arrogance and insanity, and he was crossing it.

You cringe when he starts using his metallic spatula on the non-stick skillet.

Is he even qualified to run a restaurant?!

Or maybe your assistant sent you information about the wrong restaurant? Or maybe this was not the guy you were supposed to be eating from. What if he poisons you or kills off all of your taste buds?! Your career would be ruined.

“Everything going okay?” you pipe up.

He glances up at you for the first time, eyes peering past his bangs. “Yep. Should be done in five.”

Food is simple. It either tastes good or it doesn’t. But the higher up you go and the fancier it gets, the more convoluted the food tastes with bland flakes of gold and the same old truffle shavings. That or it’s entirely boring and unoriginal. 

Or in this case, it might kill you. Which would be the first. And you’re not happy about it.

You feel unsettled when he plops the dish in front of you.

“Chef’s recommendation.”

“Thanks.”

You feel unsettled because it actually smells good. The aroma that fills your senses is flavoursome and buttery, and the thyme on top adds a fresh hint. You’re also unsettled because the plating isn’t actually bad. It’s been presented in a pasta bowl with wavy designs and the chicken breast is thinly and neatly sliced on top. It’s clean. It’s bright. It’s colourful.

But the most lethal poisons are the appetizing ones.

“Are you going to wait until it gets cold?”

You look up, brows raising at how he’s gotten comfortable in the chair across from you. Usually the chefs and waiters or waitresses like to skedaddle off and leave you to your own thoughts, too afraid to stand in your intense scrutiny. But Min Yoongi twists off the cap of his water bottle and casually downs it in front of you.

“I’m just looking at the presentation.”

“Tastes better than it looks,” he exhales after swallowing his water. 

Your expression becomes skeptical. But you take the silver spoon beside you anyhow and decide not to waste any more time.

The spoonful goes into your mouth. He watches you. You chew.

Instantly, you halt. 

The flavour hits your tongue. Creamy. Thick. But each individual grain of rice still has some firmness with a discernible texture. It’s been done al dente. There’s sweetness from the caramelized onions. An earthy flavour from the mushrooms. A zesty touch from the thyme. The chicken breast is somehow still juicy and the tomatoes burst on your palate. 

Suddenly, you’re thrusted back into your childhood. Those summer days spent in the cottage. Sun-kissed cheeks, dirtied knees, cotton dresses. You can hear your late grandmother in the kitchen. The way she calls out that it’s lunchtime. You can feel the comfort of family and love.

It feels like you’ve become the food critic in the ratatouille movie. 

You almost cry.

“What do you think?”

You clear your throat. You have to be honest. There’s no way you can lie about something like this. “It’s good. I think...this is the best risotto I’ve ever had. You cooked it perfectly and the toppings you chose were absolutely immaculate with this dish—”

You look up at him. Min Yoongi has an enormous, cocky smirk plastered across his stupid face.

It’s entirely off-putting. 

“But of course,” you quickly add, “there are many ways you could improve on it. You could add cilantro—”

“That would unnecessarily drown out the notes of thyme you taste,” he rebukes without a single beat and you scoff. 

“I noticed you didn’t add any pepper to it which could deepen the flavour.”

“Except this dish doesn’t need it,” Yoongi deadpans. “You don’t need to help me make any adjustments. I think I know what I’m doing better than you are. Just do your job and I’ll do mine.”

You suck in your cheek and narrow your eyes on him before you take another bite of the risotto while it’s still hot. “The food is delicious, but I must say, the company really spoils it.”

Yoongi’s slumped with one cheek resting in his hand, elbow on the table. He lazily stares at you with that smirk of his. “Really? Because if I didn’t know any better, you look nervous rather than annoyed.”

You scoff for the second time. “Why would I be nervous?”

“Maybe you didn’t expect the food to taste as good as it does and that makes me unexpectedly attractive,” he states plainly. You almost choke. You hit your chest as you sputter. “Or maybe you’re intimidated by me. I’ve gotten both before.”

You wipe your mouth with the napkin. “I’m afraid you’re not very perceptive, Min Yoongi.”

“Really? I think I am.” He smiles, the corners of his mouth quirked. “I’ve read your reviews before.”

You’re unamused. “Have you now? So you must know how difficult I am to satisfy.”

His smirk is sly and it’s jarring against his softer, more tender features. He’s smaller than the men you’re used to being around, but somehow it feels like he’s taken up the entire space of the restaurant. His focus on you is sweat-inducing. Even if you don’t want to admit it. 

“I don’t think so. You’ve just been eating shit food,” he says bluntly and your brow cocks. “You just need someone good you can trust. Someone who can take care of you properly.”

You’re not sure if the double entendre is purposeful. You wouldn’t put it past him.

“And is this someone you?”

Yoongi shrugs and sits back. “It could be.”

You grab your glass of chardonnay and gulp the rest in an effort to stop the conversation before it completely derails into a different direction. Yet, Yoongi’s half-lidded and darkened eyes stay on yours with each swallow. He’s unfazed. Unbothered. And that bothers you even more — bothered in a way that makes your face hot.

There’s a clack as you put the wine glass down and gasp. 

“I’m a professional.” You won’t be swayed so easily. “I can’t be bribed.”

“Of course.” He blinks as if he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. You glare at him and he gestures to the dish. “Please. Keep eating.” 

You finish the plate.

“Do you want any seconds?” he asks as he gets up.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Yoongi lingers, all too brazen and fearless. “If you don’t get any more now, you might have to come back for more.”

This time, you don’t try to hide the roll of your eyes. “That’s a presumptuous assumption.”

Yoongi smirks and his voice is husky. “After getting a taste from me, everyone comes back for more.

You scoff.

Min’s Restaurant Review

Three nights ago, I ate at Min’s Restaurant and met the main man in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he is a difficult person to interact with. I hope no one has the disservice of having to speak to the chef behind the dishes. Doing so may as well ruin the experience. Furthermore, his cooking methods are unconventional and unorthodox. It was completely shocking to watch.

However, and what I would consider most important, the food at Min’s Restaurant is spectacular. What Min’s Restaurant lacks in likeable personnel, they make up in the served cuisine. The meal that was prepared for me not only subverted my initial expectations, but overcomes, what I consider, what the food industry is lacking in this modern age exactly. Without unnecessary garnishes and ingredients, the flavours of Min’s Restaurant are both light and deep. It was an undeniable delight to consume and for the first time, I licked my plate clean. 

It is undoubted that the man behind Min’s Restaurant has the hands of god.

You should have pride.

But you’ve always loved good food. It’s your Achilles heel. It’s the one thing you’ve been passionate about since you were a kid. The reason why you love your job.

Even after writing such a review, you find yourself booking another reservation. But as a customer instead of a critic.

Of course, they were booked full for the next six months, largely thanks to your review, and they swiftly refused you with numerous apologies. But they called back not ten minutes later. You have a feeling that your name finally sunk into them — that he had something to do with it. 

That theory is confirmed when you arrive. The person in question is next to the seemingly nervous hostess as the noisy kitchen echoes throughout the busy restaurant. 

In the low lighting, Min Yoongi stands there with a relaxed smirk. As if he was expecting you. As if he knew you’d come crawling back to him to eat out of the palm of his hand, literally and figuratively.

You hate that he’s right.

“Welcome back.”

[kast43]

HOW WOULD THE OBEY ME! DEMON BROS REACT TO MC, WHO IS SCARED OF THUNDERSTORMS?

💋Lucifer💋

•Lucifer took MC out to run some errands

•he made a mental note that MC would look up at the sky often

•asking strange questions about the weather in the Devildom

•maybe MC was interested in what rain was like here?

•mc rushed to get back home, but it was when some distant thunder rolled across the sky when things turned odd.

•MC let out a small yelp, and then ran into the nearest closed door

•which was a closet

•although he would think it was cute, he suddenly realised what was going on

•he went to the closet and opened it to find MC had shoved themselves in the deepest corner of the room

•"MC, is everything alright?" He asked peeking in

•mc had their eyes closed tight and covered their ears

•a louder roll of thunder, MC flinched again

•lucifer frowned at the scene, it dawned on him that MC was scared of thunderstorms.

•he reached out his hand to mc

•"do you trust me?" He asked, mc slowly nodding and taking his hand

•He took MC out of the closet

•he covered Mc's ears tightly and lead them to Lucifer's room

•he set MC down, and then started a record.

•he raised the volume to a pleasing level, and then grabbed blankets.

•draped MC with the warm blankets, then went to sit next to MC.

•the first roll of thunder heard over the music MC flinched and Lucifer reached an arm around MC to bring them to his chest.

•he would stroke MCs hair

•"you should know that nothing will harm you, so long as I am with you"

•MC would be so calm they would fall asleep in Lucifers arms

💰Mammon💰

•Mammon and MC were prob just vibing at the house, ya know...

•A roll of thunder strikes, but Mammon pays no attention to it.

•MC however just froze.

•He noticed, "Oi, what's the matter with you?" Mammon would ask, a bit annoyed as usual.

•MC  tried to act cool, but hearing the thunder getting louder, and the flashing caused them to dive under the table.

•Mammon was big confused, looking under the table.

•"What? Don't tell me your afraid of a little thunder?" He would ask with a grin.

•when he saw MC cowarding under the table, he felt his heart drop, his grin would fade.

•he wanted to help, but didn't know how.

•ya boy just got under the table with MC and sat next ti them.

•"hey! Don't be afraid, with The Great Mammon(tm) beside you NOTHING stands a chance! Not even some silly thunder strikes."

•this would make MC laugh, and Mammon would have an idea

•mammon spent the time telling MC about his wild gambling adventures, how he would escape the 'evil witches', etc.

•by the time  Mammon was done telling his stories it was really late...most likely crashed in Mammons bed.

🎮Leviathan🎮

•Levi just wanted to show off his new purchase

•a figurine from his new guilty pleasure "I Went To The Kitchen To Eat A Snack, And Ate A Prince Who Had Been Turned Into A Sticky Bun. Now I Was Kiddnaped By The Royal Family And Now Am The Crown Prince Of This Dimension and Betrothed To A Beautiful Princess Who Hates Me." [Omg I hated that]

•he sent MC a Text to come to his room ASAP

• MC came pretty quickly, to his surprise.

•The first roll of thunder, Levi just got annoyed

•"It was not suppose to rain today." He complained, as he too does not like thunder storms.

•He turns to MC to see them just crouched down on the floor, ears covered and eyes  closed tight.

•he seems to recall a conversation they had with MC when they were trying to make him feel better about being nervous.

•he felt a pain in his heart, MC told him of their fear of thunder, but never believed  them.

• MC was so brave and strong, how could someone like that be scared of some loud noise?

•first, this boy panics

•It was about the 3rd or 4th roll of thunder that he had an idea

•He took his head phones, connected them to his PC, and started to play his favorite anime.

•he carefully placed the headphones over MC's ears and set them on the bed.

•he took a blanket and covered MC, then sat down and watched the anime with MC.

•he couldn't hear the anime, but he had seen it so many times he had it memorized.

•If the thunder could still be heard, MC got closer to Levi, which he didn't hate but...ya know

📚Satan📚

•He was tutoring MC when it happened, in the main hall.

•basically going over any questions MC had about the subject.

•at the first strike of Thunder, MC lost all focus and just used a book to cover their head.

•it was just a sudden reaction MC had, they knew this was silly, but it felt safe to them.

•Satan took pause, not really sure what brought this on all of a sudden.

•at the second strike, MC was now under the coffee table.

•Satan was smart, so he connected the dots pretty quickly.

•surprised someone like MC would be scared of something so trivial, but understanding none the less.

•he wants to continue studying, but cannot seem to lure MC out from under the table.

•he gets an idea, grabbing the blankets and pillows nearby

•the boy makes a pillow fort around MC

•"Fine, if you won't study up here, then we can study down here..." he says crawling in beside MC.

•brings pillows and blankets under the fort.

•MC was both comfortable and distracted from the thunderstorm

•did not take long before they were listening to audio books and getting cozy

•they both fell asleep cuddled next to each other

•Mammon big jealous

💕Asmodeus💕

•Fear is not an avenue that he often travels

•who could fear anything when an Adonis like him roamed the halls?

•MC stopped responding to his Devilchats, and he was feeling SUPER affectionate today.

•He would have skipped all the way down to MC's room and let himself in

•[all the brothers do this and it makes me heated 😤]

•"MC why are you ignoring me~♡" he would ask, but stop in his tracks when he saw MC in bed, completly covered by blankets and pillows.

•thinking this was a weird way of flirting, he sat on the bed and rubbed MC's back.

•when he felt MC was shaking, and hearing the fear in their tone made him think.

•was not until MC outright admitted they were scared of thunderstorms until Asmo [bless his heart] finally realized

•but, being the avatar of Lust, he had a better idea in mind.

•instead of MC being scared of thunderstorms, he would make them love thunderstorms

•[this is where it gets 🌟spicy🌟 so minors skip ahead]

•Asmo crawled under the blankets and cuddled with MC.

•if MC consented, then he would start kissing every part of MC's body

•which would lead to kissed on the mouth

•which would lead to making out

•which would lead to clothes being removed

•which would lead to....home run!

•Asmo would make it to whenever MC thought of thunderstorms, they would think of him

•which is...one way of handling a fear 🤣

🍔Beelzebub🍔

•it would happen when Beelz and MC were outdone a dinner date

•they both wanted to try this new Devildom all you could eat buffet

•Beelz would be the last to notice the thunderstorm.

•however he would quickly notice the change in MC's whole demeanor.

•Suddenly MC was not hungry and stiffened up.

•Even if he was more focused on eating, he could sense MC was scared...of what he didn't know.

•he wanted to continue eating, but he also didn't want to leave MC vulnerable.

•he decided to go and sit right next to MC.

•He leaned in close to MC

•"What's wrong? Is there someone scaring you? Does the food taste bad?" He asked

• MC wouldn't outright admit it at first

•"do you want to leave?" He asked, getting ready to hop out of the booth

•MC knew how much Beelz was looking forward to this, so they finally admitted that they in fact didn't want to leave, they didn't like thunderstorms

•It took the poor guy a second, but then he smiled ear to ear.

•"Oh, for a second there I thought you were having a horrible time."

• without much thought he took off his jacket and threw it around MC.

•how did his jacket smell like cookies? It was so warm too

• Beelz would throw his free arm around MC, the other was grabbing food

•"Okay, I liked this one...try a bite of this" he would say, now feeding MC tenderly.

•nothing is worse than being scared on an empty stomach!

•MC might even eat too much and start to doze off while Beelz was still nibbling

🥱Belphagor🥱

•imma be honest, he is smarter than he let's on

•there have been past thunderstorms Nd he had noticed MC acting strange at those times

•one night while Mc and Belphie were stargazing, it started to thunderstorm.

•What a way to ruin the mood

•now MC was flustered.

•evennif he was comfy, he got up and helped MC up.

•he would have escorted MC to their special attic space.

• crawled into the bed, and making sure that MC was extra comfortable.

•more pillows, more blankets, more covering and tucking.

•MC only protested when they had become a blanket burrito

•"Belphie, what are you doing?" Mc finally asked chuckling

•"Making you into the ultimate cuddle buddy. It's going to be a long night" he stated, now wrapping his limbs around MC, the blanket burrito

•MC laughed "I can't move!"

•"oh...you wanted to move?" He would ask, only shifting MC to one side to face him now

•"come on, what if I get hot?" Mc asked chuckling

•Belphie looked into MC's eyes

•"then I will happily undress you" he stated cuddling as close as he could "now...do you want to watch some Demontube?"

•knowing this would help MC fall asleep faster

•MC fell asleep peaceful, operation distract and replace worked

[mianavs]

meeting the zoldycks pt. 1

part 7 of Cathexis

a/n: we’re finally here~ splitting this up into 2 parts to make it more readable.

wc: 2.2k

Cathexis

Pangs of pain from your leg jostled you awake to a foreign room. With your instincts kicking in, you tried moving only to realize your right leg was in a hard cast and the events that led to your injury replayed in your head ending with the feel of Illumi’s strong arms carrying you to his car. 

Your eyes examined the dimly lit but well-furbished room for a hint that would dispel the growing fear in your chest regarding your whereabouts only to watch a Zoldyck butler come in with a tray of medical supplies that included a syringe needle.

Before you could utter a word, the young female butler set down the tray and rushed out of the room.

Anxious, you dragged your body to the edge of the bed and ignored the growing ache in your leg. Just when you were about to set your legs over the edge, purple bruising on your arm caught your eye and halted your progress. Darting your eyes up to the syringe needle the butler brought in, your mind pieced together everything and the realization you’d been sedated broke your composure.

Like clockwork, the door opened to reveal Illumi who entered the room and closed the door behind him. He approached your bed and trailed his impassive eyes over your form, lingering on your casted leg, before breaking the silence.

“How do you feel?”

“How long have I been here?” Your voice was hoarse from disuse but that didn’t stop the questions spilling from your lips. “Why am I here? What happened to bodies? Where’s my phone?”

Illumi’s eyes narrowed the slightest before repeating his question but you disregarded his question yet again.

“I need to get out of here. Ruo Wen is prob—”

Illumi’s bloodlust cut you off as the air in the room seemed to thicken and your surroundings blurred until all you could focus on was the man before you. Beads of cold sweat dotted your skin as fear coursed through your veins in the presence of such malicious Ren. You were trembling like a leaf when Illumi spoke once again.

“How. Do. You. Feel?”

You opened you mouth to speak but nothing came out as your eyes remained fixed on Illumi’s. As if he was pleased with your shaken state of mind, the bloodlust receded and your vision and breathing returned to normal.

“…F-fine! I’m fine…can I go now?” You sputtered, still reeling from the malice that’d permeated the air seconds ago.

Illumi quirked his head. “Not in this state. Your leg needs to heal completely.”

“I can recover at home just as easily.”

Illumi’s face twisted into an eerie smile. “After your little incident, I don’t think I can trust you being on your own—at least not like this.” His eyes trailed to your injured leg and your face flushed in embarrassment at the reminder of your defeat against Saul’s men.

“It was your fault he came for me.” You muttered, avoiding Illumi’s haunting gaze.

“I know. That’s why I took the job to kill him.” He replied absent-mindedly.

“So, you weren’t tracking me?” You cringed at how the question sounded but one look at Illumi’s oblivious face eased your embarrassment.

“No, I knew you were in Meteor City and, after reading up on his recent movements, I figured he would try to harm you.”

You were quiet as Illumi’s words sunk in. Despite the twisted reasoning behind it, you had to admit he’d saved your life and you were grateful. Besides, he was right regarding your current state; you wouldn’t be able to work with your leg in a cast. If you stayed at the Zoldyck mansion, you wouldn’t have to worry about medical bills, treatment, food, or running into your parent’s if they happened to drop by your condo.

“I’ll stay here until my leg heals but—”

“I’ll be sure to compensate you for your injuries and for the time you won’t be working.” Illumi dug into his pocket and fished out your phone before handing it to you. “Your boss called you a couple days ago.”

Scrolling through your missed calls, you looked up to ask the question you’d first asked him only to see Illumi closing the door behind him. The curse on your lips died when a notification from your bank confirmed the deposit of your compensation and you lied back down with a sigh before closing your eyes and going back to sleep.

It was a week after the incident when boredom lured you out of your room with the help of the crutches Canary brought you. While Illumi was on a mission, Canary had been the one tending to your needs and providing her companionship while you recovered. You quickly grew fond of the younger girl and appreciated her friendly personality. However, you couldn’t suppress your hunter instinct any longer and decided to roam the mansion in search for intel on Illumi and the Zoldycks.

As you hobbled down the hallways of the mansion, you noticed they were as dimly lit as your room with only a few lamps adorning the stone walls. You couldn’t help but chuckle how much the home reflected the ominous reputation of its inhabitants.

The possibility of running into one of the Zoldycks was one that you welcomed regardless of how dangerous it seemed. You needed to know more about the other family members—particularly Silva and Zeno—and what better way than to do it face to face.

Just when your arms began to ache after wandering for what seemed like an hour, a flash of white hair from the corner of your eyes caught your attention and you found yourself face to face with the third son, Killua Zoldyck.

You froze, unsure of what to say to the boy, but spoke when he turned around to head in the opposite direction.

“Wait! Do you know where I can rest?” Holding your breath until he turned, you plastered a pained smile on your face and leaned against the wall. “I think I overdid it.”

He was entirely different from Illumi. Where Illumi was inscrutable, you could see a myriad of emotions on Killua’s face that ranged from surprise, confusion, and finally concession. With an exasperated sigh, he closed the distance between you.

“There’s a small library nearby. Follow me.” His tone was harsh but he walked slowly enough for you to keep up with him.

The library was brighter than the hallways, with a large window letting sunlight stream in. It was fairly large with several bookcases filled with books, a couples of lounge chairs, a table, and a lit fireplace. The room was almost cozy and you let out a sigh of relief when you collapsed on the comfortable chair. Killua took your crutches and leaned them against your armrest before taking a seat in the adjacent to you.

“Thank you…” Debating whether or not to call him by his name, you trailed off only for Killua to interject.

“Killua.” He sounded hesitant but curious, nonetheless. “You’re my brother’s fiancé aren’t you.”

“Y/N L/N. I’m not his fiancé yet. I still have a couple months left of freedom.” Adding the last bit to feel out the nature of his relationship with Illumi, you were pleased to hear the chortle that escaped the Killua.

“Guess I’m not the only one who finds Illumi suffocating.” The sadness in his eyes betrayed his joking tone and you wondered just how suffocating Illumi’s presence was to his younger brother. “So how did you get hurt?”

You told him about Rivero’s death, your job in Meteor City, and the encounter with Saul and his men ending in their deaths at the hand of Illumi. Killua was quick to point out Illumi as the root cause of your accident and you quickly found yourself warming up to him.

“Illumi will kill anyone who interferes with his plans. He also likes to control those around him.”

“So I’ve noticed.” You said and rubbed the back of your neck where Illumi’s needle had once been embedded. “Sounds like you don’t agree with his ways.”

Killua visibly tensed and you wondered if you went too far. Just when you were going to backtrack, Killua’s body deflated in defeat before scanning the room for intruders despite being the only two people present.

“Illumi and my father expect me to be an assassin for the rest of my life but I don’t want to keep killing people.” Killua admitted, fidgeting with the material of his shorts.

“And what do you want to do?”

Killua’s eyes widened as they met yours and you couldn’t help but feel for the younger boy. “I…I want to have fun.”

You reached over and placed your hand over his. “Then you should go and have fun. This is our only life so we should do the things we want to do—not what other’s want us to do.”

“Then why don’t you try to break off things with Illumi. If it’s contract-based then there should be ways to null it.”

Watching Killua wrack his brain for ways to break off your betrothal caused a surge of warmth to spread across your chest. He was nothing like Illumi or the rumors that circulated regarding the Zoldycks and you felt grateful to have met him first. With your mind clouded by emotions, you let your guard down even more and opened your mouth to tell Killua about your plan.

“Actually, my parents and I are—”

The door swung open to reveal an old man with white hair. You raised your guard and shut your mouth as Zeno Zoldyck shuffled over to you and Killua. With the opportunity to find out more about the Zoldycks and your marriage deal before you, the corners of your mouth rose to mimic a shy smile and you lowered your gaze.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Zoldyck.”

You looked up to find him sitting next to Killua as he regarded you before smirking. “I’m sure you are.”

He saw behind your smile and sugar-coated words but you continued the façade to avoid a confrontation you weren’t ready for. “Thank you for allowing me to recover in your home, Mr. Zoldyck, and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Call me Zeno,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Mr. Zoldyck is my son. As for your stay, it’s no inconvenience, after all, this will be your home soon enough.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” The words tasted bitter as they left your mouth. You felt helpless in front of the man responsible for your betrothal and the urge to leave the mansion returned.

“How has your recovery been?”

“Huh?”

The question brought you back from your thoughts and you found Zeno studying your face the way Illumi did only you could see a twinge of genuine interest in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s been going well. My leg is almost completely healed thanks to Canary’s care.”

Zeno smiled at the mention of the young butler. “It’s good to hear Canary has served you well.”

“Did Illumi ask you for Canary?” Killua interjected but Zeno merely chuckled and shook his head.

“No, I offered her up when I heard what happened to Y/N.” Zeno then turned to you. “You see, Canary is under my supervision and, as your grandfather’s granddaughter, I wanted to make sure you were cared for.”

Zeno’s words caught you off guard. You’d always assumed Zeno hated your deceased grandfather for the large debt, so finding out that he personally sent one of his butlers to attend you was a revelation you hadn’t expected.

“Were you close with my grandfather?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t have lent him so much money if we weren’t” The old man laughed while you tried to make sense of the information you’d been given.

“I just assumed you held a grudge against him for the massive amount of debt.” You admitted, hoping Zeno would disclose more.

“Perhaps at one point I did, but he was a good friend despite his poor money management skills. Illumi told me he got into debt with other people and that you and your parents are paying off that debt.”

Your throat closed at the mention of the “other debt” lie you’d told Illumi. It wasn’t that you weren’t prepared to recount the lie to Zeno or the other Zoldycks but the way he said it, made you doubt it’s effectiveness.

Gone was the geniality on Zeno’s face as his eyes searched for a chink in your armor that he could exploit. Knowing you were on thin ice, you played off your surprise as embarrassment over the large amounts of debt your late grandfather owed others which seemed to get Zeno off your tail.

Killua saved you by changing the topic to your work experience as a hunter and you were more than happy to oblige with tales of your jobs from the most difficult, interesting, and just flat out weird. Killua seemed to enjoy your tales while Zeno would nod occasionally to show he was listening but never commented. Eventually, Killua asked about the Hunter Exam but just then a knock on the door interrupted you and the door swung open to reveal Gotoh, one of the butlers you were familiar with, who informed Zeno that dinner was being served.

“You should join us, Y/N.” Zeno declared and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion. “My son and his wife would like to meet you.”

[carnationcreation]

can you do 15 with reggie peters pls❤️

TITLE: 3 Simple Rules (Reggie Peters x reader) [MUSICAL THEATER AU]

✌🏻Masterlist Taglist, Requests, and Works in progress!

Please check bio to see if requests are open before sending any in! 

Request: can you do 15 with reggie peters pls❤️

Prompt/summary:  [Musical Theater AU] Reader has to explain the three simple rules of the theater to Reggie. (And also help him out of trouble)

Word Count: 1,411

Authors note: From my AU prompt list on Tumblr!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were three rules that came with being in the theater department at Los Feliz High School.

Rule One: No talking in the wings.

From the moment I met my co-star Reggie Peters at auditions, I knew he was going to be a pain to work with.

For example, he did not prepare an audition song. Instead, he broke out a guitar and took a request from Mrs. Harrison and wowed with his impressive vocals instead. His lines were half memorized and his wardrobe was not fit for the dance portion of the audition.

For Christs sake we’re doing NEWSIES!

The rehearsal period was over a month long and every week about thirty students crammed into the auditorium to relentlessly rehearse and prepare for opening night. 

My character, Katherine, didn’t dance much other than in King of New York. The big tap dance number I had to master next week.

A lot of my time was spent waiting in the wings for my next cue. Unfortunately, so was Reggie’s. 

“Wait was that my cue?”

“SHHHHH!” I said, looking anxiously to see if the stage manager on the other side of the stage heard us.

“Oh come on,” he said, “they can’t hear me over the music.”

I rolled my eyes before grabbing his hand and dragging him to the hallway of dressing rooms right behind the stage. 

“Do you seriously not know anything?”

He looked at me confused.

“The rules of being in theater?” I said, when he shrugged I continued, “One, no talking in the wings. Two, no eating or smoking in costume. And three, always show up early or else you’re late.”

“I didn’t think this was that serious.”

I scoffed, “Why did you even sign up for this?”

He shrugged, “Mrs. Harrison cornered me in English and said she needed someone who could actually sing for Jack Kelly.”

I rolled my eyes, “You better keep your mouth clean. I don’t want to have to kiss someone who’s breath stinks every weekend.”

Suddenly, the door we just came out popped open.

“(Y/N)! It’s almost your cue! Reggie, what are you doing out here?” Julie whispered.

“Nothing. Let’s go Reginald.”

“It’s Reggie!”

Rule 2: No eating in costume

The snack table near the dressing room was kept stocked with lots of different things, and it was meant for those out of costume or stagehands since we didn’t get to eat dinner until afterwards on show nights. 

I’d never been a stickler about eating in costume considering I’ve done it myself numerous times. At least I was always careful about it though, putting on a jacket or blanket over me to keep stains from getting on the meticulous costumes our school would make.

“What are you doing?” 

I tried to keep my voice low, but the shock and panic that went through me when I saw orange smears on Reggie’s vest from the pack of Cheetos in his hand made it come out in a squeek.

He looked up at me frantically, “I forgot!”

I huffed in frustration before running into the womens dressing room to grab paper towels.

Reggie tried to take them from me when I came out but I slapped his hand away.

“You’ll try to rub it, you need to pat the stain out.”

The wet paper towel made the brown vest look darker, but at least I got the orange out.

I grabbed his hand and dragged him back into the dressing room, “Stand there.”

He stood where I pointed right beside the electrical outlet and watched me silently as I plugged in the hair dryer and set it to the cool setting. I put it on it’s lowest setting so I could carefully listen so we wouldn’t be late for our cues. Luckily it was Pulitzer’s solo so we should have enough time.

I looked up and noticed his cheeks were red, “What? It isn’t too hot is it?”

“Uh- no I just- we’re in the dressing room alone-”

“And I’m getting the stain out of your shirt so Katie won’t go nuts when she sees your costume almost ruined. No one’s gonna say anything Reggie, especially not to me. This happens more than you think.”

He nodded and looked down at the vest. It was still slightly damp but not enough to be noticeable on stage.

“Thank you,” Reggie said as I pulled the door open.

“Next time put a jacket on before you eat. Three simple rules Peters. Remember them.”

Rule 3: Always show up early or you’re late

It was almost the end of our show run. The past few weeks had been amazing and it was saddening to think that tonight I would have to say goodbye to Katherine. 

As I sat in my dressing room I heard a knock at the door, Julie entered and stood behind me as I pinned my hair up for my wig.

“Have you seen Reggie? It’s almost 10 minutes till places.”

“No I haven’t, has he messaged Luke about being the understudy?”

She shook her head, “Katie said he hadn’t.”

I felt anxiety rise in my chest, hopefully we wouldn’t have to delay the show just to get someone in costume.

I peaked my head outside and just as I did Reggie Peters came sprinting down the hallway.

“Where have you been?”

“I got a flat on the way, how much time do I have?”

“10 minutes till places. If you hurry you might not be late.”

He nodded.

“Rule number 3 Peters!”

He shouted over his shoulder back at me, “I know!”

I rolled my eyes. Having pity for the boy, I decided to try and help.

I went and grabbed his mic from the stage manager and updated her on the situation. With it in hand I went back to his dressing room and knocked.

“Come in!”

Reggie stumbled around the room finding pieces of his costume to pull on. 

“Sit,” I said once he had the pants and shirt on.

I handed him the vest and tucked the mic pack into the back of his belt before letting him run the wire up through the shirt.

“Do your hair, I’ll get the makeup ready.”

He tousled his hair and I couldn’t help but stare. Him clearing his throat brought me back to reality and I began applying the foundation and powder to his face. The entire time I felt his eyes looking at me causing my face to become unexplainably hot.

Finally I pressed a cut up makeup sponge covered in black and gray eye shadow to give him the look of a dirty newsie. 

“All done,” I said. I tried to stand up quickly so I could go and get my face to not feel like it’s on fire.

He grabbed my wrist, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

He sighed, “You’re always helping me with something.”

“Well,” I smiled, “Hopefully you’d do the same for me if the situation was reversed. Besides theater geeks look out for each other.”

“I’m not a geek!”

I laughed, “It’s almost time for places. Let’s go Peters.”

The final curtain call had most of the cast in tears. This was the night we’d have to put all the props away and say goodbye to Newsies.

I neatly put my costume away before turning off my dressing room light for one last time.

I’ll admit. Working with Reggie wasn’t all that bad. At least he was a good kisser and took a mint before the finale each night. 

I pulled my duffle bag over my shoulder and walked towards the entrance of the school.

“(Y/n)!”

I looked behind me to see Reggie jogging to catch up with me.

“The rest of the crew is going to iHop, are you coming?”

“I dont know,” I said, “I’m kinda tired.”

“Come on,” he groaned.

“No Reginald I’m tired and sad the show ended.”

He smirked, “And going with the rest of the cast will make the grief a little less.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Please?” 

I walked off leaving him to trail behind me.

“Please (Y/n)!”

“Why do you want me to go that bad Reginald?”

“It’s Reggie,” he said, I smirked, “And... I don’t know anyone else that well.”

 I stopped and turned to him, he looked slightly embarrassed. 

“Please? I don’t wanna go by myself.”

I sighed, “Fine. But you’re buying me a milkshake.”

He smiled widely and before I could react pressed a kiss to my cheek.

As he pulled back he realized what he had done causing us both to blush.

“Is that against the rules?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[jade-marie]

Besides rio shooting the little money maker girl he's never done nothing that doesnt make sense to the situation but Ive gotta admit I wont ever get past that (obv) but everything beth done was what she had to do at the time, yall are a little too harsh its not like the other girls werent gun and go abt the whole thing from the start so everybody got their problems relating to that. Lot of the times it was their ideas they went ahead with and she was right there with em and it caused probs with bossman so cut her some slack man I love that big mommy milkers bitch shes trying her best and if that was my man id shoot him too sometimes 😂

I have absolutely no idea why you sent this to me, honestly. I’m not sure if you think I’m suddenly going to see the error of my ways, decide I’ve been too harsh on Beth this whole time, and go back to loving everything but whatever.

Rio’s never done anything that doesn’t make sense to the situation

I would largely agree with this, the way I see it, Rio operates by a very different moral code to Beth. He is part of a world where the stakes are much higher, so reward and punishment is also much more extreme. To anyone looking in, his behaviour probably seems extremely harsh but if you look at how he typically handle situations, you would see that Beth gets off very lightly. She should be dead and there is absolutely no way that she doesn’t know that. So the fact that she keeps taking liberties, even though he’s very obviously letting her off lightly, pisses me off. She effectively takes advantage of the knowledge he won’t kill her, by pulling shit she wouldn’t dare pull with anyone else. 

Everything Beth did was what she had to do at the time

This is where our opinions massively diverge. Saying she did what she had to do is the same thing as saying she didn’t have a choice, and it completely removes her agency. We can go all the way back to 1.06 where she says, no one took advantage of her, it was a choice, she wanted to. When she found out her family was struggling for money, she didn’t try and get a job or a payday loan, she committed armed robbery. Once her debt with Rio was cleared she didn’t wanna go back to her old life, she wanted to continue working for him, again, another choice. She then made the choice to launder money through the dealership, then she decided to wrangle a 50-50 partnership in the pills. Once Rio was gone she started her own printing operation. Nobody forced her to do any of this, she didn’t have to, she wanted to. 

If you want to talk about specific acts between her and Rio - she didn’t have to shoot him three times in the chest, she didn’t have to leave him to die. That was a choice, a conscious one. When he came back and it was clear he was not going to kill her, he was taking her money (which lots of people would consider pretty fair given the circumstances), she didn’t have to hire a hitman, she wanted to. With the current Secret Service storyline, also a choice. This isn’t me saying she should have chosen Rio over the Secret Service, this is me saying she could have. Both options were available to her and she chose to go against him. She didn’t have to, she wanted to.

The girls were always part of it and it was their ideas which caused Rio problems

They literally weren’t and that has been one of the biggest sources of conflict between them from the outset of the show. Beth originally shut down the idea of robbing a grocery store, then when she found out she was in trouble she convinced the girls to do it. Beth went behind their backs and asked Rio for more work. The secret shoppers were also Beth‘s idea. Beth was the one who asked Rio to increase their drop to $500,000 when the other 2 girls wanted to quit. Beth threw a set of keys in Rio‘s face and got them all fired, then she convinced the other 2 to help her get him locked up. It was Beth’s idea to launder money through the dealership, she was also the one who stole his pills and a 50-50 partnership. It was also Beth who fucked him. Beth was the one who shot him, Beth was the one who decided to print money, Beth was the one who decided to hire a hitman. It was also Beth’s idea to rat out Rio in exchange for witness protection. While the girls agreed to do these things with her, they were Beth‘s ideas and more often than not, the decision was already made without them so they didn’t have much choice. 

As for specific things which caused problems for Rio - the original robbery was technically Beth‘s idea. It was Beth who wanted to get him arrested, which brought the FBI closer to his operation than they’ve ever been. It was Beth who decided to let Boomer go, when Annie was more than willing to shoot him. It was Beth who was sloppy keeping the books at the dealership which burned his cash operation, as well as the means for moving pills. Once again, it was Beth who shot him. It was Beth who targeted Lucy, it was Beth who hired Fitzpatrick. Beth and her sloppy bookkeeping at Boland Bubbles alerted the authorities and to save her own ass, she decided to offer them Rio. The girls weren’t part of any of that. 

The only instance where you could say the other 2 specifically caused problems for him is when Ruby and Annie tried to do a job behind Beth’s back and they didn’t follow through. Aside from that, she has very much been the de facto leader, making decisions on everybody else’s behalf. 

I’m too harsh on Beth and should cut her some slack

I’m not sure why anybody should cut her slack, actions have consequences and she’s yet to face them. Instead, everyone around her has to suffer as a result of her choices, but she doesn’t care. She keeps pulling the same bullshit and doesn’t take responsibility for anything, unless you count the occasional “woe is me” pity party where she calls herself a monster.

If Rio was your man, you would shoot him too

Contrary to popular belief, Rio has never been her man, he was her boss that she fucked a couple times. Putting that aside, I don’t particularly care that she shot him. If she turned around and said “fuck you, you deserved it. You kidnapped me in the middle of the night and put a gun in my hand, what did you expect?” I would fucking respect her for it. Besides, if we’re going by the logic that he deserved it, she should’ve caught a bullet ages ago and I can guarantee the reaction to him shooting her would be very fucking different.

What actually bothers me is the reason that she shot him, that entire rhetoric of him essentially being the cause of her problems because she doesn’t want to take ownership of anything she does. Until she changes that mentality, she won’t get an ounce of sympathy out of me.

[fbfh]

hello, bluebell (leo x fairy!reader)

genre/vibe: soft fantasy/the gentle etherial vibes of the princess bride and pixie hollow (books and game)

word count: 1.6k

pronouns: they/them - gn reader - probs some fem vibes cause i was imagining my fairy daydream self while writing this lmao

au: you’re a fairy but no others 

pairing: Leo x fairy!reader

requested: nope, just obsessed w fairies bc who isn’t

warnings: brief mentions of memory gaps, a few mentions of caterpillars and other bugs, you wake up in the woods somewhere, mentions of changlings

summary: leo trips over a stranger sleeping in the woods, and know they’re something else because of their etherial aura. And the fairy wings. That was a pretty clear sign too.

reccomended songs: aventurine - paul baker, fairy garden asmr ambiance

a/n: baby stepping back into the writing game babeeeeyyy aLsO if you played the online pixie hollow game or read mary engelbreit magazines or watched the princess bride growing up i wanna give you a double high five also jfc how many more times can I say fairy in a description lmao

 requests r open xo

When Leo left Bunker 9 to take a (long overdue) break from his current projects, he didn’t expect to almost trip over someone lying under a tree. He had begun walking to the dining pavilion as usual, when the smell of wild violets engulfed him in a passing breeze. He slowed down a little, taking in the beautiful August morning, and felt his mental to do lists melting away. Time seemed to slow down as he looked up at the sunlight glinting through the trees, his eyes falling on a cloud he decided looked like a giraffe in a suit.  The sight made him laugh softly. Gods, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone cloud watching. Sun broke through the trees, and he looked down at a bush with little red berries as warm tingles danced over his skin. Light bells rang in the distance, and he looked around for the source. He stopped, eyes falling on a small inchworm. 

“Hey little guy,” he said softly, waving to the insect. He smiled to himself again, noticing the large patch of clovers he was passing through, a strong sense of peace settling through him. His eyes instantly began scanning the patch, debating being a little more late to breakfast to see if he could find a four leaf clover, when he tripped over a foot, and narrowly avoided stepping on a few innocent mushrooms growing in the ground. He felt himself get snapped out of the relaxed cloud that had engulfed him moments before. He caught himself, and looked down. Gods, who would nap this deep in the forest? He was about to nudge you awake, when he saw you. He staggered back a step, breath catching in his throat. 

You were laying on your side, eyes closed, soft lips parted gently. Mid morning sunlight glinted off your hair and skin, giving off a surreal glowy effect. Your white flowy pajamas had dirt smudged on the hem, one of the straps beginning to slip down your shoulder. The light weight material fell around your legs and spilled onto the ground like sea foam reaching for the shore. A butterfly sat on your head, tranquilly opening and closing its wings.  He took a few more steps, careful not to step on the mushrooms that seemed to surround you, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw your back. Caterpillars had spun silk all over your upper back, connecting to the tree. He felt like he should do something, but before he could begin to think of what, three crows started cawing from the branches of the tree. He walked back over to see if the harsh noise had woken you, but you didn’t seem to move. He let out a sigh of relief a little too soon, as he watched your eyes flutter open. 

You took in a deep breath of forest air, and your eyes opened, trying to take in your surroundings. Your head spun with violins and harps and flutes, and your body felt heavy. Sense crept in and you tried to piece together how you’d gotten here. What had happened last night? You struggled with gaps in your memory for a moment, before trying to get up. Your palm slipped on a patch of moss, and you caught yourself on your elbow. In an instant, someone was right beside you, helping you off the ground. He was beautiful; like a beam of light, he seemed to fill you with warmth and life instantly. He smelled like woodsmoke, and his touch was gentle on your arm. You became aware of a very dull, almost soft burn on your upper back, but your attention turned back to the boy as he started talking. 

“Are you okay?” his voice was like the crackle of a bonfire.

“Uh,” disorientation was still fogging your mind, “yeah, I think so.” He helped you into a standing position, a hand in yours, the other still on your arm. You felt stiff and sore enough to wonder what you had been doing. 

“How did you get out here?” he asked, his tone a distinct blend of amusement and confusion. 

“I don’t know… I probably just-” memories flooded back; moonlight caressing your skin, beautiful music you couldn’t quite remember, fireflies guiding your arms and legs as you danced and danced and danced, drunk on the movement.  You shook your head, snapping out of the sudden train of thought. 

“Um, probably just wandered here by mistake.” you finished the half truth with a laugh, “My apologies,” you continued, “is this your property? I can leave, I didn’t mean to intrude,” He looked at you for another moment before speaking again.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. We usually don’t get a lot of… visitors. I’m-” You felt some kind of rush building up inside, like what a venus flytrap feels as a beetle is about to land. 

“I'm y/n," you cut him off suddenly, pulling away, and the feeling immediately began to subside. You waited in near silence for a moment, then chose your words carefully. 

"What do you like to be called?"

"Leo…"

You turned a little on your heels, wondering what had come over you as his voice trailed off. He stared behind you for some time, let out a soft oh, then tore his eyes away and back to you.

“There’s someone you should meet,” you agreed, slightly confused, and he began to guide you through the forest. After a few minutes he brought you out to an open field. He left your side for a minute to tell a passerby something about sending someone over, you couldn't be sure, then continued leading you over the grassy expanse. You went past a very old looking building, over a small footbridge, and onto the porch of a house. 

“So…” you started, unsure where the sentence was going, “who is it that I’m supposed to meet?” The burning on your back had subsided to a pleasant tingle right by your shoulder blades. A breeze brushed your cheeks, and you could smell strawberries - lots and lots of strawberries. The idea excited you. 

“The director of this camp. He should be able to explain -” his eyes hovered just behind you again, “everything.” You wished he would talk more, you loved the lilt of his voice. You wondered what this director would need to clear up, your eyes falling on a scatter of rainbows cast on the floorboards of the porch. You tried to turn to see what was making them, maybe a hummingbird feeder or a light catcher - you’ve always loved stained glass - but when you began to spin on the balls of your feet like you’d done a thousand times before, there was a strange resistance. You spun slower on the wood, and lost momentum. In an effort to catch yourself, your foot caught on the leg of a patio chair, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop the fall. The spike of adrenaline made your back burn more, and you braced yourself for impact. An impact that didn’t come. 

This didn’t make sense. You should have been falling; you were barely touching the ground. Instead, you were suspended midair. You opened your eyes to your outstretched arms, and glanced down curiously. You were pitched forward, one foot barely making contact with the wooden floor, the other tucked behind it, frozen mid fall. Shifting rainbows and prisms seemed to light up the whole floor now. You became aware of the strange wind rushing around your face and hair, and saw Leo staring behind you again, with that odd, fascinated look on his face. You looked behind you and let out a startled gasp.

Wings.

Big, beautiful, iridescent wings that looked sort of like you had stolen them from a dragonfly fluttered behind you keeping you in place. Your arms fell and you straightened up, feet gently making contact with the ground as your wings slowed to a stop. 

“Ah, hello,” came a man's voice from behind you, “I haven’t met someone as special as you in a long time. Please, come inside if you’d like.” He ascended the stairs. You felt like you should have been more surprised to see he had the bottom half of a horse, but it didn’t seem to phase you. Then again, you weren’t one to judge.

“Just one moment,” Chiron said, pulling Leo aside, and once out of earshot, explained the significance of you and your appearance at camp. He took a moment to process this.

“A fairy,” he breathed, mind reeling.

“A changeling from the looks of it. A fairy raised in the human world. They’ll need help navigating this new world, finding out about themself.” Leo nodded, remembering how confusing things were when he was first thrown into a whole other side of his life. He looked through the crack in the door, watching you nibble on a snack cake drizzled in honey. Chiron looked at him watching you, infatuation on his face. He put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. 

“They deserve an explanation. Would you like to help with this, er, complicated conversation?” Leo thought back to when you had taken his hand, the way your laugh sounded like bells, the way the corners of your mouth never seemed to drop. The idea of going to the dining pavilion, continuing on with his life as if he’d never met you seemed impossible. He knew in that moment leaving you wasn’t an option. 

“Of course.” He answered, more sure in that moment than he had been of anything.

[goldenraeofsun]

Remember Me, Honeybee

Part I

Two hours into the farmers market, and Dean’s had enough. Even the gorgeous day outside, sunlight streaming down from a cloudless sky, does nothing for him.

Next to him in their produce stall, Sam rearranges their vegetable display with all the intensity of Bobby Fischer facing off against the Soviets. He adjusts an eggplant a few inches to the left, eyes it critically, and moves it back where it was.

Yesterday, Dean got sunburned from too many hours in the sun harvesting. But before he could even think about a shower, a visitor pounded on their door because some neighbor ratted them out to local Fish and Wildlife. So on top of dealing with a peeling forehead and an aching back, Dean had to take care of Ms. Rosen nearly breaking and entering to get at Sam or his watercress - she wasn’t really clear on which was her priority.

Sam, the cowardly sasquatch, bolted the moment her car tires pulled up to their farm.

It took an hour to get Ms. Rosen to leave. First, Dean had to show her Sam’s pet watercress plants at the edge of their property. According to Ms. Rosen, they’re an invasive species, which Sam could’ve mentioned to Dean at some point. Then, Ms. Rosen explained the $150 fine - all the while heavily implying she could dock a few bucks if left alone in a room with Sam.

Dean forked over the money. Sam’s virtue got to live to see another day.

At least Becky gave Dean plenty of blackmail material. If Sam pisses him off one more time, guess who’s getting Sam’s phone number faxed straight to her field office?

Dean was looking forward to sharing the whole story with Cas when they pulled up to the farmer’s market that morning. But his favorite beekeeper, potter, and candlestick maker is notably absent again.

As Hannah steps away from her stall to replenish her display, Dean seizes his chance. “Be right back,” he calls to Sam as he darts out behind their table.

When she catches sight of him, Hannah turns her back to lift a crate of soaps that would’ve left Dean sore for days. Goddamn angel strength.

“I may be a dumb human,” Dean starts, “but even I know that angels don’t get sick.” His voice drips with disdain. “Where’s Cas? The real reason, this time. Not that BS you fed me last week.”

Hannah sighs, her normally refined tawny wings fluttering in barely-concealed agitation. “He’s… indisposed.”

Dean folds his arms over his chest. “Cas has been here, rain or shine, every market for two whole friggin’ years. Is he,” he forces out the words, dread trickling down his spine, “dying or something?”

“No.” Hannah shakes her head. “He’s not mortally ill. He’s just indisposed.”

Dean gawks at her. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You have customers,” Hannah says shortly.

Dean waves off a soccer mom armed with a bushel of kale and a hungry leer. “Sam’s handling the orders.” He points at the line in front of Sam, and the lady walks off in a huff.

“Is that right?” Hannah asks innocently once Dean’s attention darts back to her.

“Cut the crap,” Dean says sharply. “Why hasn’t Cas shown for the past two weeks? The real reason. None of that indisposed bullshit.”

Hannah sighs. “You’re keeping me from my own customers.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “So you’d better talk fast.”

Hannah makes a face like she smelled Sam’s post-Chipotle farts. “Castiel was cursed.”

“What?”

“Keep it down,” Hannah hisses, leaning in. “He - well, it’s a long story. Our cousin, an archangel, cursed him.”

“For fuck’s sake, why?”

Hannah’s lips purse. “Gabriel has been very hard to contact for the details. He apparently thought Castiel was moping too loudly or too frequently. ”

“Moping?” Dean echoes, his brow furrowing. “Cas always seemed fine to me.”

Hannah shrugs. “Ask Gabriel. Now, if you don’t mind,” she lifts her nose into the air, wings straightening, “I have customers.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean retreats to his vegetable stand, his head swimming.

Dean never saw himself as a farmer until his health nut little brother decided to ditch his high-paying (and stressful) lawyer job to play Green Acres, and Dean, naturally, followed since there was no goddamn way Sam knew his way around a tractor. Sam was more likely to mow down his own gigantor foot than move a clod of dirt. Luckily, to Dean, an engine’s an engine.

At the farmers market, Sam’s booth was placed next to Cas’s. On their first day, Cas walked over with a complimentary jar of honey. He was stilted and awkward, sure, but he was also the first one to welcome them into the fold.

Lost in thoughts and worries about Cas, Dean almost gives a customer a twenty dollar bill instead of a one, blanks on when their summer squash will be in season, and accidentally rings up asparagus as broccoli.

“Look,” Sam says after apologizing for Dean’s latest mistake, “why don’t you head back and check on the tomatoes? It’s winding down here.”

Dean dubiously eyes the hubbub of people browsing vegetables.

Sam gives him a light shove towards their truck. “Just go. I know you don’t want to be here, anyway.”

Dean grimaces. “It’s that obvious?”

“To everyone and their grandmother,” Sam says under his breath.

Asparagus Man at the front of the line nods gravely.

“Thanks,” Dean says sourly to both of them.

“Go check on Cas,” Sam says as he gestures for the next customer to step up to the register. “Swing by and pick me up in a few hours.”

* * *

At the foot of the unpaved driveway up to Cas’s house, Dean cuts the engine. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel, debating with himself. Cas might not want visitors.

But Dean brought pie.

Homemade, of course. And if it was supposed to celebrate Sam’s birthday tomorrow, what Cas doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Sam likes cake better, anyway, because he’s a freak.

Dean grabs the pie, shoves open the door, and strides up the dirt road to Cas’s house before he can talk himself out of it for good.

This is what you do for sick friends, anyway. Charlie drove all the way up to the city with chicken noodle soup, Settlers of Catan, and prime gossip on Benny’s on-and-off-again thing with Andrea when Dean had the flu a few years ago.

Dean is just being a good friend. It’s not weird.

He knocks on Cas’s cobalt blue door, his heart beating double-time behind his ribs as the seconds wear on with no answer.

Dean dawdles on Cas’s welcome mat. He tries again. Cas’s house isn’t exactly small, with its pottery studio in the basement and wax room in the back. Cas might be in his nest, on the can, or in his garden by the hives. Hell, with this mysterious curse, Cas might not be home at all - but stuck in some angel hospital being poked and prodded by docs. He probably should have squeezed Hannah for more details.

The door opens as Dean contemplates, for the hundredth time, bailing with his tail between his legs.

“Hello?” Cas says, peering curiously at Dean.

“Cas,” Dean says, relieved. From one cursory look, Cas seems normal. His hair’s fucked up, of course. His dark wings are equally unkempt, feathers sticking out every which way. All typical Cas.

Cas blinks. His mouth opens, closes, and opens again. But no sound comes out.

“You’re up,” Dean says stupidly. Of course Cas is up, or he wouldn’t have been able to answer the damn door. Dean shifts his weight to his other foot. “Hannah mentioned you’d, uh, been cursed,” he says awkwardly.

Cas relaxes a fraction. “Ah, yes, I was.”

Dean gives Cas another once-over. “I just found out this morning, so I thought I’d stop by. Bring pie." He holds up the pie as evidence. "See how you are. But you look good.”

Cas squints at him, his head tilting. “Thank you?” he asks like he had a half-dozen responses in his head and chose that one at random.

“No prob.”

Cas’s gaze darts down to the pie in Dean’s hands for the first time. “Would you like to come in?”

Dean grins. “Yeah,” he says, stepping inside. “I’ll take this to the kitchen. I’m starving. Do you wanna eat it now?”

Cas gestures him forward. “This way.”

Dean throws him a funny look but follows him to the kitchen he’s been in about a hundred times before - for Cas’s annual Spring Equinox party, for a handful of dinners with other farmers in the area, for water breaks in between weeding Cas’s bee-friendly garden.

Afternoon sunlight from the beautiful day outside streams through the large windows that overlook the back porch and garden. It illuminates the kitchen table, absolutely covered with what looks like all of Cas’s beekeeping books.

Dean clears enough space for pie and strides over to the drawer for the baking utensils, saying over his shoulder, “I hope you’re hungry.”

When Cas doesn’t answer, Dean hastily turns back around - only to find himself practically nose-to-nose with Cas.

Dean takes an instinctive step backwards, his ass smacking the drawer closed again. “Dude,” he says in a strangled voice. His heart pounds in his chest at the close proximity and intense look in Cas’s eye. “We talked about this. Personal space.”

Cas retreats, his brow furrowing. “My apologies,” he mumbles. “I must have misread the situation.”

“I - yeah - I guess,” Dean stutters as he grabs plates and stacks two forks on top.

Cas falls heavily into a seat at the kitchen table. Silently, he moves enough books around for them to sit and eat.

Dean eyes the haphazard piles as he takes his own seat. “D’you have a problem with one of the hives or something?”

Cas shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he says, his brow furrowing. “But it’s hard to tell.”

Dean snorts as he cuts them both slices. “I thought you knew everything about bees.”

Cas shoots him a dour look. “I did,” he says pointedly.

“Did?”

Cas fusses with a pamphlet on colony collapse. “I’m trying to catch up, but there is a lot of information to learn.”

Dean frowns. “Catch up to what?”

“To where I was,” Cas says, head tilting.

Dean sets the pie server down to focus on Cas, since he’s not making any goddamn sense. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Cas looks at him like Dean’s the one who lost his mind. “I don’t remember how to take care of them.” After a beat, he clarifies, “The bees. I’ve spent the better part of two weeks relearning how to maintain the hives, harvest honey, check if there is enough honey to harvest...” he drifts off, looking more than a little lost.

Dean blinks. “That’s the curse?” He grimaces as he forks off a generous corner of pie. “Dick move on Gabriel’s part. That’s your goddamn livelihood.”

Cas tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “He didn’t just make me forget the bees.”

Dean chews at Cas thoughtfully. “What else? Please tell me you forgot that time with the goat and a hooker.”

Cas stares at him. “I don’t remember anything.”

Dean’s next bite of pie freezes halfway to his mouth. “What do you mean anything?” he demands.

“I didn’t think it needed explaining,” Cas says waspishly, as all the pieces finally fall into place for Dean. “I thought Hannah told you about it.” His feathers rustle against the back of his chair.

“Hannah only said you were cursed!” Dean flails, “Not that you have goddamned amnesia. Do you know what pie is? Do you know who I am?”

Cas blinks, a little taken aback by Dean’s reaction. “I retain my general knowledge. I know what pie is,” he says. “I don’t remember eating it, but I know it is meat or fruit wrapped in pastry.”

“Oh my god.”

Cas’s gaze falls to the uneaten pie in front of him. “And, no, I don’t know who you are.”

Dean blinks, all the blood draining from his face. He forces out, “You’re serious.”

“I’d hardly joke with a stranger,” Cas says frankly.

Dean lets his fork drop back to the plate with a clatter.

Cas peers at him curiously. “The curse erased all my personal memories, but I was assuming we were friends, is this right? You know your way around my house, and Hannah wouldn’t have divulged my condition to just anyone.”

“Yeah,” Dean says gruffly, “we’re friends. I - my brother and me, we have a stand next to yours at the farmer’s market.”

“Oh,” Cas says. “Work colleagues, then.”

Dean snorts. “A little more than that.”

Cas bites his lip. “But you told me to respect your personal space. If we were -”

“Woah!” Dean cuts in before Memento can come up with any more bright ideas, “We’re close friends, alright?” he says before Cas can get another word out, “But not… like that.”

Dean doesn’t even know if Cas goes for humans. Most angels don’t. Cas never mentioned any romantic partners, and Dean never pressed. Better to keep that box locked up tight. Cas never shied away from giving his opinion to Dean or anyone else. He’s the most blunt, sincere person Dean knows - angel or human.

If he felt anything for Dean - the barest speck of more-than-friendly feelings, he’d have said something.

“Oh,” Cas says, and, behind him, his wings droop the smallest fraction.

Dean scans the table and pushes Cas’s worn copy of The How-To-Do-It Book of Bee-Keeping by Richard Taylor his way. “Test me.”

“What?”

Dean shovels more pie into his mouth. “As’ me anyfin’,” he mumbles.

Bemused, Cas opens the book to a random page. “How do you use a bee escape?” he reads aloud.

“Do you know what they are?” At Cas’s headshake, Dean holds his fingers about three inches apart, “They’re little plastic doodads with little bee-sized holes in the middle. You slide ‘em in the hive right before you’re about to harvest. Once they’re fitted, you smoke out the bees, one comb at a time. Once they’re out of the way, you can scrape off the honey.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Do you also keep bees?”

Dean can’t help his loud laugh. “God no,” he says as he closes his mouth around another bite of pie. “I’m just a farmer. But I’ve helped you out a few times.”

At least twice a month since Dean moved to this corner of semi-rural America, but who’s counting. Honey is only harvested once a year, but Cas can always use an extra set of hands in his garden. Or around the house. Dean’s worked off more than one argument with Sam by kneading clay in Cas’s pottery studio basement.

“So you know all this from me,” Cas says dubiously.

“Sure do,” Dean says, smacking his lips as he debates another slice of Cas’s get-well-soon pie. “You’re a good teacher, and once you get on a roll about the bees, it’s kinda hard to shut you up.”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” Dean says as he cuts himself another (smallish) slice. “I look hot in a beekeeper suit, anyway.”

Cas frowns, confused. “Do most humans find baggy coveralls and heavy veils sexually appealing?”

Dean snorts. “That was a joke.”

Dean doesn’t mention that he finds the beekeeper getup hot as hell as long as it’s Cas wearing it.

It’s just - Cas doesn’t usually bother with the veil since he likes to have a full range of vision when caring for his bees. Dean once let a whole comb drop on his foot at the sight of Cas bent over, wholly concentrated on the hive, a barely-there smile hidden in the corners of his mouth. His blue eyes were luminous in the bright sunlight, and every few seconds he would lick his lips, probably to wipe away the beads of sweat gathering on his upper lip.

“Oh,” Cas says, a faint blush touching his cheeks. His gaze drops to his plate, and his wings sag behind him.

Dean mentally kicks himself. Cas might still have all a whole encyclopedia shoved in his brain, but jokes will fly right over his head like so many of Cas’s precious bees. Since Dean started hanging around, he had been getting better with the jokes and references, but Total Recall Cas got that goddamn factory reset, so Dean has to cool it for now.

“Forget it,” he tells Cas. “I’m an asshole.”

Cas squints across the table at him. “You are not.”

“Huh?”

Cas carefully spears off a bit of pie. “You came by to check on me, offer me food,” he slips his fork into his mouth, eyes closing as he savors the tart cherries and buttery pastry, “stay and talk.”

“I, mean, yeah,” Dean says, wrongfooted, “we’re friends. ‘S the least I could do.”

Cas has another bite. “This is really good.”

“Thanks,” Dean says before he crams the rest of his slice into his mouth. He studies Cas as they both eat, an uncomfortable foreboding settling deep in his stomach. Now he sees it, how Cas doesn’t look at him with any familiarity. It’s more like, to Cas, Dean is some fucked up jigsaw puzzle slash zoo animal. Eventually, Dean has to ask, “Are you going to get your memories back?”

Cas shakes his head, his expression hardening. “I’m not sure.”

Dean’s mouth falls open. “Are you serious?” He braces both elbows on the table. “But you were cursed - there’s gotta be a way to break it. That’s how curses work, right?”

Cas exhales a slow sigh. “Gabriel did say there was a way to break it.”

“And you haven’t yet?” Dean demands, almost offended on Cas’s - his Cas’s - behalf. “You’re okay forgetting your whole life?”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Are you insane?” he hisses, his feathers puffing up like an angry cat. “Of course I am not ‘okay,’” he says, air quotes and all, which Dean hasn’t seen since he told Cas they were lame. (He felt bad about it for a week afterward and gave Cas a free apology pumpkin. First of the season.)

“I am able to navigate the outside world as well as a human toddler,” Cas continues heatedly. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past two weeks?”

Dean huffs an impatient breath. “What have you tried so far?”

Cas grimaces. “Gabriel said it could be broken like all curses could be broken.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I have no clue,” Cas says frankly. “I spent a week in Heaven’s archives and libraries. The most common way to break curses is by consuming a stone taken from the stomach of a goat -”

Dean makes a gagging noise.

“-or bathing in the blood of a virgin at the new moon.”

“Not any less gross,” Dean says emphatically. “Where the hell are you going to get virgin blood? Are they talking about, like, a whole virgin? Or does born again count?”

Cas shakes his head. “The new moon was four days ago.”

Dean frowns. “Did you have to do the blood thing?”

From the look on Cas’s face, Dean isn’t going to make him watch Carrie anytime soon.

“So I went to more obscure magic,” Cas continues. “I tried bathing in a natural source of water. And then I ran a bath and filled it with salt, since salt repels evil.”

“All I’m hearing is lots of bathing so far.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I lit sage in every room and burned three types of wood. I wore an evil eye bracelet. I sprinkled consecrated water blended with honey over the threshold.”

“No dice?”

Cas throws him a baleful look. “I have ants now.”

Dean snorts. “Well that sucks,” he says, since what else can you say when your best friend swaps all his memories for a Bug's Life?

Cas sighs. “From my notes and research, I can’t leave the hives completely unattended, so I’ve spent the past few days trying to figure out how not to kill them,” he says, gesturing to the rest of the kitchen table. “Once I’ve determined if the bees will survive on their own, I can look back into the curse.”

Dean purses his lips. “Have you prayed to Gabriel? Tried to convince him to take it back?”

“Every day since it happened,” Cas says, his face somber.

“Alright,” Dean says, grabbing Cas’s empty plate, “I can’t help with the curse stuff since I save the teen witch adventures for Sabrina. I can help with the bees, though, if you want.” He gets to his feet and dumps the plates in the sink.

Once his back is turned, he frowns as he thinks his words over. Who knows if this Cas actually wants him around? This Cas doesn’t know him from Adam.

To the dishes Dean says, “The next beekeeper is a few towns over. I could give him a call for you, if you’d rather have him. Cain’s mostly retired, so he’d probably have the time to show you the ropes.”

“Is Cain an angel?”

Dean laughs over the splashing water. “No, he’s a crotchety old bastard who would rather live with bees than people. You get along.” He sets the rinsed plates out to dry and faces Cas. “I’m sure you have his number in your phone too, come to think of it.”

Cas meets Dean’s cautious gaze with his usual soul-searing stare. “I wouldn’t mind if you helped me. Maybe I could call Cain if there are any advanced problems we can’t figure out together.”

Dean smiles. “Sounds like a plan.” He jerks his head towards the backyard. “You wanna get suited up?”

“Now?” Cas asks, alarmed.

“No time like the present,” Dean says as he walks out of the kitchen without waiting for Cas to follow. “Come on, we’re wasting daylight.”

* * *

Cas stares at his beekeeper suit, hanging in its usual place on his screened back porch, next to his gardening gloves.

“You okay?” Dean asks. “You’ve got a spare in your shed, so I’ll grab it on the way.”

Cas picks up the suit like it’s about to bite him.

“’S a good thing I’m here,” Dean says as Cas slowly unzips the front. “It’s always a bitch to get your wings covered.”

Cas’s wings slump. “I have a feeling this is going to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Hey,” Dean says, taking a step forward, “no, it’s your bees. You love them.”

Cas frowns. “But I don’t remember how.”

Dean grins. “Then you’re a lucky son of a bitch who gets to fall in love with something all over again.” He sighs wistfully. “What I wouldn’t give to erase Star Wars from my brain and watch it again for the first time.”

“What is Star Wars?”

“A trilogy of movies from the 70s and 80s,” Dean says, his smile widening.

Cas nods. “I’ll have to rewatch them, then.”

“Damn right,” Dean says. “I gave you the DVDs for my birthday last year, so they should be around here somewhere.”

“For your birthday?” Cas asks, eyebrows rising. “Isn’t gift-giving normally the other way around?”

Dean shrugs. “But I’d been bugging you to watch ‘em with me for years. Trust me, it was an awesome birthday.”

Cas opens his mouth like he’s not sure where to poke holes in Dean’s story first, so Dean reaches for the wing covers. “I think we should do the hard part first.”

“You’re currently the expert,” Cas says as he sets the suit aside.

Dean frowns as he takes in Cas’s black wings, reflecting muted tones of magenta, purple, cobalt, and green. Normally, Cas rocks the sex wing look - a few feathers askew here and there like someone raked their fingers through them - but now his wings look more like Cas stuck his alulas in an electrical socket.

Without thinking, Dean says, “It’s gonna be hard to get them in the wing covers. They’re a little messed up, dude.” As Cas’s face falls, Dean adds quickly, “Nothing a little grooming can’t fix.”

Cas flushes. “I haven’t been able to reach my whole wingspan on my own. Hannah offered-” he breaks off, his gaze skittering around to settle just over Dean’s left shoulder. “But I don’t know her, not really, so I was uncomfortable accepting.”

Dean takes a step back. “I mean, you don’t need to do it. I’ll have to touch a couple feathers to get these on you, if you’re okay with that.”

Cas swallows. “No, you’re right. My wings are a mess.”

Dean’s fingers practically tingle with the urge to reach out and smooth down the closest feathers, but he shoves his free hand deep into his pocket instead.

“Can you help me?” Cas asks.

Dean quietly dies inside.

Cas’s wings flutter in anticipation, and Dean is so, so weak.

“Yeah,” Dean says gruffly as he drops the wing cover and approaches Cas’s back. “You sure, man? I - I’ve never done this before.”

Cas turns his head. “Never?”

Dean clenches his hands into fists. Don’t touch. Not until he says so. Dean can keep his goddamn hands to himself. Cas deserves that much.

“Do you want me to walk you through it?” Cas asks softly. “I know how, since it’s only personal memories about my life that seem to have been affected.”

“Ah,” Dean hesitates, a hundred and one wing kink porn videos flashing through his head like popup ads. “No,” he coughs, “I know the mechanics.”

Cas’s eyes narrow. “Are you sure?”

Dean fidgets in place. “‘S like picking beans, right? Don’t pull on them too hard. They’ll come off if they want to come off. Make sure nothing is sticking out at weird angles.”

Cas makes a face. “Did you just compare my wings to legumes?”

“Maybe?” Dean says defensively. “Look, I know vegetables, and I know what your wings are supposed to look like. What else do you want from me?”

Cas’s mouth opens, but no words come out. With a sigh, he faces forward, presenting his wings for Dean.

Dean inhales a deep breath. Christ, his hands are goddamn shaking. Get a fucking grip, Winchester. He lightly touches the base of Cas’s left wing.

Cas shivers, the feathers rippling.

Dean yanks his hand back.

“Sorry,” Cas says sheepishly. “You took me by surprise. Please continue.”

Gently, Dean grazes the base of the wing again. The feathers rustle like under a moderate breeze, but Cas doesn’t tell him to stop, so Dean keeps going. He feels along the surface of Cas’s wings, most of the feathers slipping, glossy smooth, under his fingertips - until he catches the first snag. Nerves rocketing up to eleven, Dean tugs lightly on the first feather out of place.

Cas sucks in a breath.

It comes loose, and Dean has a fleeting, stupid thought to steal it for himself. But he lets it flutter to the floor.

Dean soldiers on, biting his lip as he tries to keep himself from grabbing handfuls of feathers and burying his face in Cas’s wings. Meticulously, painstakingly, he combs through the mess. As he moves closer to the second joint, Cas’s feathers, which had been subtly shifting the whole time, stiffen.

“You okay?” Dean asks.

Cas nods, stilted. “Please continue,” he says, his voice rough.

Dean frowns. If Cas is uncomfortable and doesn’t want to tell him, Dean’s not going to be the asshole who turns a blind eye to the signs. He withdraws his hands, and Cas’s wings -

They flare out, seeking Dean’s touch.

Without thinking, Dean blurts an astounded, “Dude.”

“Apologies,” Cas says, and, from this angle, Dean has primetime viewing of the back of Cas’ traffic light-red neck. His wings retreat to fold stiff as a board behind Cas’s back.

“Hey, no,” Dean says as he lays a hand along Cas’s wing, petting it gently. “I just wanted to check in with you.” He grins lopsidedly, not that Cas can see him. “Communication is important.”

Cas coughs. “Indeed,” he says, and his voice still sounds off. “Please continue. I,” he breaks off, turning a little in place so Dean can see half of his face, “I was enjoying it.”

“Good,” Dean says with a little too much enthusiasm. “I - uh, me too.”

Cas blinks. “You were?” He frowns. “Grooming is… boring. A chore.”

“Not for humans,” Dean says as he picks up where he left off. “We don’t have big fancy wings to lug around everywhere. They’re-”

“What?” Cas waits, clearly expecting an answer.

Dean sighs. “Cool,” he supplies lamely. “Your wings are cool.”

Dean can’t see Cas’s face with his back turned, but his wings fluff up ever so slightly, so Dean counts it as a win. “I’m glad you think so,” Cas says quietly.

“’Course,” Dean says, easy as pie. He pulls on another feather, and, when it doesn’t come out, tucks it back into its proper place, “I’ve never seen an angel with wings like yours. Malachi’s got dark grey ones, and I thought they were your shade of black, but they’re not. Plus, he’s an asshole.”

Cas chuckles. “I don’t see how him being an asshole has anything to do with his wing color.”

“No, but, if you ever run into him - an angel with dark grey wings - now you know.”

“So you’re only looking out for me.”

“You don’t know this yet,” Dean tells him conspiratorially, “but I’m awesome.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to see that for myself.”

Thank God Cas can’t see Dean’s face. Equally embarrassed and pleased, Dean rambles, “You should also watch out for Metatron - the white-winged dude who runs the thrift shop down the road. He’s been angling to set up shop at the farmers market for fucking ever even though he has a storefront for all his crap. Whoever said white wings meant purity was full of shit because Metatron’s a douche.”

Cas laughs, and Dean nearly slumps over in relief.

He can still make Cas laugh.

“Hannah, she’s okay,” Dean continues as he combs through the rest of Cas’s secondaries and coverts before he gets to the primaries, large and built for flight, and completely within Cas’s reach to groom himself. “But her partner, Duma, hates you for some reason, so I’d steer clear of her.”

Cas’s wings dip a few inches. “It doesn’t sound like I’m on good terms with many angels.”

Dean lightly runs his palm over Cas’s flight feathers - while he’s back here, he might as well. “I guess not,” he admits because Cas is right, “but they’ve all got massive sticks up their asses, so you’re better off.”

“They’re family.”

“They’re dicks,” Dean corrects. “Come on, you’re goddamn cursed with amnesia , and not one is here helping you out? Dick move for dick angels,” he finishes.

“Hannah visited.”

“Like I said, Hannah’s okay,” Dean says as he straightens up.

“At least you’re here,” Cas points out.

“Yeah,” Dean says bitterly as he brushes out bits of fluffy down near the base of Cas other wing, “After two weeks.”

“You said you didn’t know.”

“I should’ve.”

“How?” Cas asks, sounding baffled.

Dean scoffs as he cards his fingers through the shorter feathers near the bone of Cas’s wing, “You didn’t show at the farmers market. You always show.”

“But-”

Dean shakes his head. “I should’ve known something was up.” He yanks a little too hard on a feather, and the brittle shaft breaks between his thumb and pointer finger. Dean lets it fall to the floor in disgust. “But Hannah said you were sick, and I didn’t know if you were the type who wanted company or everyone to stay the hell away. And then I talked to Sammy, and he said angels don’t really get sick like we do.” He exhales a slow breath, consciously holding himself back from tearing any more feathers out. Cas doesn’t deserve that, especially after all the shit he’s dealing with.

“We do get sick,” Cas says, his voice breaking through Dean’s morose reminiscing of the past week, “But never with the type of illnesses that can be treated outside of Heaven.”

“That’s what Sammy told me,” Dean says heavily.

“You were worried?”

Dean pokes him in the muscular part of the wing. “Of course I was worried.”

Cas’s head tilts, but not enough that Dean can make out his expression. “Because we’re friends.”

Dean swallows. “Yeah,” he says quietly, “because we’re friends.” He tugs on a few more feathers, and one comes loose. He holds it between his fingers for a beat, rubbing his thumb along the vane. With a sigh, he moves onto Cas’s other flight feathers. He gives them a few long strokes, unable to help his smile as he feels at the power, the potential, all hidden in Cas’s wings. But, eventually, he has to straighten up.

“All done,” he says with forced cheer as Cas turns around to face him.

Cas blinks a few times like he’s coming out of a trance. “Thank you,” he says gruffly.

He spreads his wings.

Dean’s breath catches in his chest, and his awe must show all over face, judging by Cas’s barely-there smirk. But, dammit, Dean’s going to enjoy the sight. Cas never puts himself on display like this, preferring to play the nerdy beekeeper in a trench coat rather than an almighty Angel of the Lord.

Cas turns his head to inspect Dean’s work. He gives an experimental flap, sweeping all the old feathers littering the floor up into the air. “Thank you, Dean,” he says sincerely. He folds his wings back, and Dean’s heart aches for something he never had in the first place.

“Don’t - don’t mention it,” Dean chokes out.

A fluffy piece of down drifts down to settle on Cas’s nose. He goes cross-eyed to keep it in view.

Dean cracks up. Grinning, he reaches up to brush away the offending bit of down.

Cas catches his arm in an iron grip, his own face oddly intense.

“Cas?”

But before Dean can finish his sentence, Cas pulls him closer and seals their mouths together.

Dean lets out a muffled (completely manly) noise of surprise against Cas’s lips before muscle memory takes over. As Dean kisses back, Cas makes a light soothing rumble in the back of his throat, his touch gentle and warm. Dean’s other hand grasps desperately at Cas’s shirt, anchoring him in place. An electric, bubbly feeling is exploding in his chest, a wild kind of joy Dean normally would tamp down, tell himself, watch out for the other shoe to drop.

Other shoes like Cas’s missing memory.

Dean freezes, and it takes him a long moment to realize Cas isn’t moving either. His grip on Dean’s arm has gone slack. Dean opens his eyes to find Cas’s eyes wide open and glowing with an electric blue light.

Fuck.

Dean’s watched his fair share of angel-on-angel porn and more than his fair share of angel-on-human porn, and kissing’s not supposed to do that.

Dean takes a stumbling step back. “Cas?” he tries.

But Cas doesn’t move. He doesn’t give any sign he heard Dean at all.

Dean falls forward, tripping over his feet. He grips Cas, hard, by the shoulders. With his heart in his throat, he gives Cas a small shake. “Cas?” he tries again, and his voice sounds alien to his own ears, loud and breathy with his panic. He shakes him harder. “Cas!”

Several agonizing seconds pass, and the light slowly dims from behind Cas’s eyes, leaving behind his normal blue.

“Dean?”

Dean’s knees nearly give out with relief. “Hey,” he says weakly, “Nice to have you back, buddy.”

Cas blinks a few times. He swallows, a strange expression coming over his face.

“You okay?” Dean demands. “What the fuck was that?”

Cas stares at him. “That was the curse breaking.”

Read Part II here!

[sugarsugarmoon]

Dearly Beloved

Summary: Your friend from high school, Taehyung, helps you out when you need a wedding date.

Genre: SMUT and a little bit of fluff

Warnings: Masturbation, swearing, recreational alcohol use, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (plz use protection irl), spanking, some biting, dom!Taehyung, brat!reader

a/n: sorry Triv. sorry mom. If digital headstones are a thing by the time I die, please put this gif on mine. I listened to “Earned It” by The Weeknd the whole time I wrote all the nasty stuff.

Word Count: 6473

Your best friend is sweet and kind. She is the most generous person that you’ve ever met, and she can make you laugh harder than anyone on this planet. She has cradled you in her arms as you cried over boys, and, when your dad nearly died of cancer, she was there with you in the hospital every day, coffee in hand, ready to listen or just sit with you.

You take a deep breath through your nose and remind yourself of all of this. You love her more than pretty much anyone on this planet, but in this moment you have never wanted to slap her so much in the whole time you’ve known her.

She has been planning and preparing for her wedding for over a year, and the date is only two weeks away. The extravagance of it isn’t really your style, but she’s one of those people that has been dreaming of her wedding since she was a little girl. She has a vision. 

At this present moment, you are surrounded by small cuts of lumber, empty vases, fake greenery, and tea lights. Your job today is to assemble the centerpieces. You sit in the middle of the room on the floor, surrounded on all sides by your craft supplies. She is standing just outside your ring of accoutrements, crying and yelling. You aren’t totally sure what she’s yelling about. Seating arrangements? Maybe someone canceled? Honestly, at this point it’s unintelligible, so you decide it’s best to just let her carry on.

“And you!” you hear, clear as day.

You look up from your project and see her finger pointing toward wear you sit on the carpet. You look behind you, half expecting someone else to be there; you’ve done nothing but help. You turn back to her and barely raise a finger to point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in bewilderment. You mouth, “me?”

“Yes, you! Who else would it be? God.” You know she’s just stressed, so you take a deep breath and clench your fists around the fake greenery in your hands. “When we first started planning, you said you were gonna have a date, and I’m sorry things didn’t work with Yoongi, I really am, but now the seating arrangement is fucked and the whole entrance of the wedding party is fucked. It’s fucked, y/n. Could you just ask Yoongi to go with you?”

“Just ask Yoongi?” you spit back, “You want me to ask the man who broke my heart? Tore it into a million little pieces, who is, mind you, already going to be at the wedding because he’s friends with your future husband, to be my date? So...what? So I can get my hopes up again when he’s nice to me, because of course he will be, and get my heart smashed again? Oh but your seating arrangement will be good, so I should just suck it up. Right. Sure.”

You’re standing now, having spilled tea lights all over the floor with the sudden movement. You are breathing heavily, fists clenched at your side, tears threatening to burst from your eyes. Things didn’t work out when you had told your workaholic boyfriend, Yoongi, that you wanted to get more serious, maybe move in together and consider marriage. You don’t think he meant to laugh at you, but he did laugh when you brought it up. He said that it was clear the two of you wanted different things, and he ended it with you. You clearly aren’t over him yet, and she knew that.

Your friends face softens for a moment. You can see the reality of what she said smoothing her features.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just so stressed…” she trails off.

“Look, you want me to get a date? I’ll get a fuckin’ date. But I will not be caught dead on Min Yoongi’s arm.” You turn on your heel and let yourself out of her house, slamming the door behind you.

When all the rage fades, you realize what you’ve said that you’re going to do. You also realize that you left all centerpieces unassembled in the middle of the floor. You call your best friends mom and ask her to go over and finish them.

“I am already on my way over there, sweetie. But did I hear right that you are going to get a date for the wedding? Where?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

You know she isn’t trying to be hurtful but c’mon, I know guys! You think to yourself. I know so many guys. I know...Yoongi for one, and Hobi. Granted Hobi is marrying my best friend in two weeks. I know….oh! Jungkook! Jungkook will totally go with me!

“I know guys!” you respond to her with excitement in your voice. “I actually have to call the guy that I’m asking right now though, so I’ll talk to you later. Thanks again for doing the centerpieces.”

As you hang up, you quickly scroll through the names on your phone until you land on Jeon Jungkook. You tap out the message on your screen quickly and send it away.

You: Hey JK! I was hoping you might be able to accompany me to a wedding in two weeks. It’s out of town, so hotel. All expenses paid. Huh?

You put your phone down feeling optimistic. Jungkook loves to dance, and he’s a fun guy. Not only does he seem like a living human male who will go with you, you actually don’t hate the idea of going together with him. The excitement doesn’t last long.

Jeon Jungkook: y/n! Hey! I wish I could, but I’ll be back home in Busan. I’m so sorry!

You: No prob, buddy. I’ll go with Yoongi 😬

Jeon Jungkook: No! I won’t let you do that! He broke your heart. Let me give you hyung’s number. You remember Tae? From high school? He’s cool, and he’s free (he just asked me to make plans that weekend). Hit him up.

He sends you the contact. Kim Taehyung. You stare at the number for a long time before you type up a text, and you stare at the text for even longer before you send it.

You: Hi Taehyung, this is y/n. JK gave me your number, and he said you might be free in two weeks to be my date to a wedding. Nothing weird or anything! I just can’t go alone, and if I don’t bring a date, my friend is going to make me go with my ex. It’s a long story. Anyway, it is out of town, but your hotel and all your food and stuff would be paid for. Just let me know.

You exhale a deep breath after you hit send. You hope it doesn’t sound too weird or desperate or anything even though you are definitely both weird and desperate. 

Kim Taehyung: sure! I’m always down for an adventure.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which is short-lived when you realize you don’t know anything about Taehyung anymore. You ran in the same circle in high school, connected by your mutual closeness to Jungkook. You text him back asking him to meet you for coffee, so you can go over the plan. The two of you decide to meet that afternoon, and the anxiety in your chest begins to loosen just a tiny bit. 

….

When you get to the coffee shop, you find a spot by the window in the big squashy chairs. You order yourself a latte and play on your phone, waiting for Taehyung. You hear someone softly clear their throat, and your eyes scan the figure in front you. You don’t mean to give him the up-and-down, you really don’t. But the man standing in front of you is not the same Taehyung you remember. You remember a scrawny boy with too much eyeliner (yikes) trying to act like a man while still dealing with all his teenage emotions.

Before you stands, perhaps, the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He is tall, taller than he was when you last saw him, and he is fuller too. He is no longer gangly and awkward. He has broad shoulders, firm pecs, and toned arms that you can see straining against the fabric of his tight black shirt. His black hair is long and messy, and tendrils hang down into his eyes. He has a smile on his face when your eyes finally meet his.

“Hi, y/n! It’s been so long!” he exclaims as he reaches out and pulls you into a hug.

You are shocked by the sudden touch and hesitate to put your arms around him. Even while he holds you for a moment with your arms at your sides, you feel comforted and safe. He smells like lavender and chamomile mixed with something else - maybe just his own skin.

When he lets you go, he looks a little embarrassed and backs up into his chair across from yours.

The two of you catch up about what you’ve been up to since high school: college, careers, failed relationships. You tell him all about what happened with Yoongi, but you don’t mention that you’re not over it yet. He tells you that his ex-girlfriend cheated in a one night stand with a girl at a club, and he had been pretty broken up about it.

You set your plans for leaving to get to the wedding early together. You have to be there on Thursday night because the bachelorette party was Friday and the wedding was on Sunday. He agrees, and you say goodbye to one another, this time without the hug. 

****

Thursday afternoon you are packing your bags making sure that you have everything when your phone rings. It’s your best friend, so you take a deep breath before you answer it, trying to stay as calm as possible since she is a total mess. “Good morning, my beautiful best friend and soon-to-be bride,” you say in a syrupy tone that she knows is facetious.

“I have bad news,” she huffs and without pausing she continues, “we booked the hotel when you and Yoongi were still together. So we only booked one room for you and Yoongi. So now Yoongi doesn’t have a room, and your date...Tae or whatever...doesn’t have a room either. And I know that I’m being insensitive right now, but you and Yoongi breaking up is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

She’s definitely crying and spiraling. “I mean...it wasn’t great for me either,” you attempt to joke, but she just sobs harder.

“Okay, okay. It’s fine. Yoongi will just stay with Hobi until Sunday, then on Sunday, you and Hobi are going to stay together anyway, yeah? So that problem is solved. As for Tae...I’ll talk to him, okay? No big deal,” you console her, unsure what you’re going to say to Tae.

She lets out a long sigh, but her crying seems to be evening out. “You’re right. Okay.” You finish the phone call and send a text to Tae.

You: So...funny story...youandihavetoshareahotelroomnowsorryokaybye

You toss your phone aside and finish packing your bags. As you are loading up the car, Tae pulls up. He looks just as good as he did the other day, wearing a loose t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He’s carrying a single leather duffle bag, and he has a huge smile on his face. He almost looks like he’s laughing.

The drive is only three hours, but it is long enough to be boring. You’re glad that you have company, and you and Tae crank up the radio singing along and laughing. You play car games together, and it is an overall good time.

When you get to the hotel, you are a little unsure of what to do or how to handle sharing a room with Tae. You slide the key in the door to the hotel room and exhale in relief when you see there are two beds in the room. You each take up your side and start to settle in.

When it’s time for you to get changed for bed, you awkwardly shuffle to the bathroom to change. Even though you normally just sleep in your underwear and a t-shirt, you put on a whole pajama get up because you aren’t sure how modest you should be with Tae.

When you come out, he’s scrolling through his phone. He looks up at you and gives you that warm, gentle smile again. How does he look so good just sitting on his bed playing on his phone?

“Hey, uh, so I usually just sleep in my underwear...but I can keep a shirt on if you want,” he says casually to you.

“Oh, uh, I mean, whatever you’re comfortable with. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable on my behalf, seeing how you’re doing me a favor,” you ramble out.

You wish you said no. As soon as it happens, you really wish you’d told him to keep on a shirt and a parka and snow pants and maybe also a ski mask. To say he is hot is the understatement of the century. His toned honey toned skin is smooth across his chest, taut over his muscles. His boxer briefs sit low on his hips, and your eyes follow the curve of his muscles from his stomach down past his waistline. 

You watch the muscles on his back flex as he climbs into bed. You lay your head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck is happening? you think to yourself. You try to blink the images of his nearly naked body out of your head, but they are there even as you eventually fall asleep.

*********

All day Friday you help set up for the wedding. Tae comes by and helps for a while, and, when it’s time for the bachelorette party, he says he’s going to go find something to do in town. The girls all go out, drink, and celebrate your best friend. 

After the bachelorette party, you are feeling light and drunk and, for the first time in a while, you feel your shoulders relax. You say goodbye to the other girls in the lobby of the hotel and head to your room.

When you get there, there’s only one lamp on, and the room is empty besides your bags. You are painfully aware of the silky material of your dress against your skin, especially without a bra on. You feel so hyper-sensitive with the alcohol coursing through your veins. You skate your fingertips up your arms and across your collarbone. You feel yourself soaking your panties, and your nipples are hard against the silky material.

Your head isn’t totally clear, and you slide the straps of your dress off and let it pool on the floor around your feet. You stand in the middle of the floor in nothing but your panties and your heels for a moment, barely touching your skin on your neck and down your chest and belly.

You lie back on the bed, fuzzy head telling you to take care of it. You lick your fingers and take one of your nipples between your index finger and thumb. You feel your hips buck a little bit, feet, still in your heels, planting on the bed. With the way your feet are planted, your legs are open wide, and, if you weren’t wearing underwear, your pussy would be on full display. You bring your hand down to your panties. You run your fingers along the waistband before passing your hand over your covered folds, barely applying any pressure. You have decided to take it slow. You haven’t been with anyone since Yoongi, and you have been too busy to even consider masturbating. Now, you have the time, and you are soaking through your panties. 

You close your eyes, and you see the way that Tae’s shirt fits across his chest, the way the rolled up sleeves accentuated his biceps, the way that his sweatpants yesterday left nothing to the imagination. You see the way his bare chest is broad and smooth, the way his underwear sit on his hips, bulge prevalent. You imagine the way he smelled when he’d pressed you into his chest. You want to drown in his smell. 

You slide your hand into your underwear, drawing languid circles on your clit, sliding your finger through your arousal and back up to your clit. You feel like you are not in control of what your body is doing and small moans start to slip out of your mouth. You feel “Tae” come off your lips over and over.

“What?” you hear from near the door, but you think it might be coming from outside of the room and can’t process its proximity because the things you are doing are overwhelming you.

A whimper that turns into a yelp followed by “oh my god” comes from within the room, and your eyes snap open. Tae is standing at the end of the bed, eyes wide, mouth open, frozen in place.

You scream and try to get up from the bed quickly, but you are drunk and wearing heels, and you lose your balance. Instead of getting away from him, you stumble toward him. He throws his arms out to catch you, steadying you as your mostly naked body presses against him. And you are mortified, but the scent of him makes your pussy clench. In that instance, you’re a little angry that you didn’t get to finish.

“Are you okay? How drunk are you? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I just...we’re both in here. I didn’t know. That’s my bed, by the way. But that’s neither here nor there. Are you okay?” he rambles, trying not to look at you.

You pull away from him quickly covering your chest as you run over to the other side of the room to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. You throw the shirt over your head, and, as you try to put on the sweatpants, you realize you’re still wearing the goddamn heels. You throw them off as quickly as you can and pull the sweatpants on. When you look up from your panicked clothing debacle, Taehyung is looking anywhere but at you.

“Tae...I’m sorry. I’m just...I’m-I’m drunk, and I’m horny. I’ll go stay somewhere else.”

“Wait no…” Tae starts, but you are gone before he can even finish. You go to your best friend’s room, and she welcomes you in. When you tell her what happened, she laughs hard, pretty drunk herself. You agree to not talk about it any further.

*********

Besides avoiding Taehyung, the next day and half go by smoothly. You are busy setting up for the wedding. The hairstylist and makeup artist take care of you before the wedding, and your friend’s mom brings your dress and shoes to you. You haven’t had to go back to your room for anything, but you are dreading sitting next to Tae at the reception. The dread is briefly overshadowed by the love and pride that you have for your best friend and Hobi during the ceremony.

The ceremony goes off seamlessly, and you are so happy for your friends that you forget for a little while to be embarrassed. When it’s time for the reception, you realize that you have to enter with Tae for the processional. He meets you by the doors, looking pretty annoyed. He doesn’t say anything to you, and he just offers you his elbow when it’s time for you to enter the banquet hall. You walk in holding his arm, faking a smile, and take your seats at the table, followed by the remaining bridesmaids with their dates.

Throughout dinner, Tae continues to ignore you. You think to yourself if anyone should be avoiding anyone, it’s me avoiding him, but you don’t say anything to him. At one point he gets up to go to the bathroom, and you sit alone, pushing your food around your plate.

“Is this seat taken?” you hear from an all too familiar voice. You force yourself to look up into his eyes, and Yoongi is staring back down at your with a smirk on his face. You don’t have the words to respond, so you just stare at him for a moment.

A deep voice from behind you says, “yeah, actually it is,” and then you feel a hand on your shoulder. Oh, so now he wants to pay attention to me. His hand feels like it’s burning your skin, and you want to lean into it.

“Oh sorry, man. It didn’t seem like you guys were together,” Yoongi says, confused but still confident.

“Yeah, well, we are. Why don’t we go dance, y/n?” Tae hisses through his teeth.

“I’m kind of talking to Yoongi right now,” you say to him.

“Yeah, that’s all good, but I really like this song. So come dance with me,” he insists, pulling your wrist a little.

“Yeah...okay fine,” you mumble as you take your napkin out of your lap. Yoongi is looking at you dumbfounded, and you shrug and follow Tae to the dance floor. He pulls you in and presses his body fully against yours. Is this some kind of weird possessive shit?

“So you’re going to ignore me all night and then get pressed when Yoongi tries to talk to me?” you snap, annoyed.

“First of all, you left me alone in that hotel room for two days, so who’s really ignoring whom? Why can’t you, for once, just be a good girl and do what I say?”

You can’t deny that the expression “good girl” coming from his mouth does something to you, but you are already heated. “Oh, yes sir. I’ll be the goodest girl because you just dragged me over here and are being an ass, so I better be good for you. Fuck off,” you spit at him, rolling your eyes.

“Well, you told me how Yoongi broke your heart. And you weren’t gonna tell him to get lost, so I did you a favor. You should be thanking me,” he spits out.

“What’s your deal, Tae? It’s not like we’re actually dating or anything.”

You swear he growls in his chest a little bit, then he spins you before pulling you back into his body. “Well, maybe I want to be,” he mutters.

Before you have a chance to talk, the MC comes on and asks everyone to clear the floor for all the first dances, father dances, mother dances, second-cousin dances. It goes on for so long that you decide to return to the table, and Taehyung follows you. You sit down, fully prepared to demand an explanation from him when the photographer comes up to your table.

“Can I get a picture of you two?” she asks with a bright smile.

You can’t bring yourself to say no to her cheeriness, so you agree, doing your best to smile for the camera.

“You know what would be really cute?” the photographer starts, and you feel the dread building in your chest, “if you sat in his lap.”

Oh my gods, ugh. You are incredibly annoyed, but you know that this innocent woman doesn’t understand the very weird situation going on. So you, once again, reluctantly agree. You climb into Taehyung’s lap, and the energy immediately feels different. He clears his throat behind you and slides his arms around your waist. While the photographer tries to get a better angle (why is she taking so long!?), Taehyung starts to slide his hand down your thigh.

“I heard you,” he whispers to you, smile still stretched across his face. “I heard you say my name. You can’t act like you don’t want me. I heard you.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask defiantly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“You know what I’m talking about. You said my name. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. I had such a big crush on you in high school, but you were oblivious. Now, you see me. Now, you want me. I heard you.”

As the photographer walks away, you don’t try to get up. You just shift a little in his lap. With the movement you can feel, very clearly, as if there was hardly any fabric between you at all, the outline of his cock, half-hard against your ass.

“Are...are you not wearing underwear, Tae?” you ask, feeling flustered, face hot.

“I tell you I heard you say my name while you were touching yourself on my bed. And you ask if I’m wearing underwear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to take advantage of me,” he professes with a smirk.

You look around frantically to make sure no one heard him, but your head snaps back to look at him when you feel his fingers teasing the hem of your dress against your thigh. You can feel the movement causing a rush between your thighs, and you can’t focus on anything except the way his hand feels on your skin.

“Tae…” you whisper, trailing off.

“Say it, y/n. Say you want me.”

“We can’t do this here, Tae. There are so many people here,” you say looking around at all of your friends, who you would be mortified if they found Tae with his hand in your dress.

“If you say that you want me right now, I’ll take you upstairs, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve to be fucked,” he whispers, letting his hot breath run over your ear.

Shit. Shit. Am I doing this? Fuck it.

“Tae, I want you...right now,” you practically moan.

With that, he’s up out of his seat, adjusting his pants. He ushers you out of the hall with his hand on the small of your back. You clamber into the elevator, and, when the door shuts, he is all over you. His mouth is on your ear and your neck, your collarbone and the curve of your shoulder, you chest and the upper swell of your breast. He’s kissing every exposed inch like he’s been poisoned and the only antidote is in your skin.

The elevator door opens on your floor, and the two of your practically run to your room. He slides the key card in and flings the door open. He kicks it closed behind you, and he takes off his tie and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He turns around to look at you, lacing his fingers in the hair on the back of your head down to the nape of your neck. He’s big eyes are peering into yours, searching your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a deep rasp.

“Tae, you’ve already kissed my whole chest. Yes,” you say back with a bite to your tone. You can’t help but want to contradict him and push his buttons.

He smashes his lips into yours, a deep, hungry kiss. All of his annoyance and frustration seems to come out with his kiss too. He nips your bottom lip and pulls it a bit before letting it going. He goes right back to you, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I don’t know,” you tease. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

“How is ‘babygirl?’ Is that okay with you?” he asks looking into your eyes again.

“Babygirl is fine,” you reply, “but I’m not your good girl.”

He growls at you from his chest, scrunching his nose. You feel the tension in your stomach building and you know that your panties are useless at this point they are so soaked. He leans into you, reaching around your back, unzipping your dress. You shimmy it off your body, letting it pool on the floor around your feet, just like you had down two days before.

You runs his fingertips across your skin from your collarbones over your breasts, gently catching your nipples, down your stomach, across the waistband of your underwear. He bends his knees, setting one on the floor, and he keeps tracing his fingers down your thighs, over your knees, and around your ankles. He presses his mouth to your hip and your thigh while he caresses the inside of your legs up to your thigh and back down to your ankle. Then he pulls the strap off both of your ankles from your shoes and pulls them off your feet. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every touch from Tae’s fingers, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing with every move he makes. 

While still on his knee, Tae looks up at you through his lashes. He asks in a commanding tone, “Babygirl, if you need me to stop you just say red, okay?” And you nod.

“Now, are you going to be good for me while I lick your pussy?”

Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in your chest. “I don’t want to be good,” you sass, voice hoarse already.

His teeth bite down on the skin of the inside of your thigh. “Are you talking back to me, babygirl?”

You are too stunned to come up with anything clever, so you just nod.

He bites down again on your other thigh. “Use your words,” he commands.

You are so wet and so overwhelmed. He is too much for you already. “Yes, I was talking back to you,” you pant out.

He stands up from between your thighs, and you feel remiss that you let your brattiness get in the way of having him licking you. He whispers, “you’re being a bad girl.”

You stick your tongue out at him in response, unable to stop yourself. His hand comes up to your chin and holds your head so you have to look him in the eye. “Look at me,” he demands. “You better start behaving, you little monster.”

For some reason, him calling you a little monster does something to you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on. “I’ll be good. I’m sorry.”

You lean to kiss him, and he catches your lips in another bruising kiss.

“Lie down on the bed and take your underwear off,” he says as he stands back from you, palming himself through his pants, seeking some relief. 

Once you’re in position, he pushes your legs up, so your knees are bent. You are in the same position that you were just two days ago when he walked in on you. He whispers so pretty, then kisses gently on your clit and down your folds. He barely slides his tongue into your pussy, then drags it all the way up you, collecting your arousal on his tongue.

“So wet for me, babygirl.”

He takes his tongue and draws slow, steady circles on your clit while he brings his hand to your entrance and slides too fingers in. He immediately pushes them all the way in without letting you adjust, then he curls them upward. His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

You groan beneath him. He feels like he knows exactly what your body wants and needs. He is intuitive to your body, and your head is swimming. Your skin is burning, and your hips start to buck, even as he uses one hand to try to still you.

“Tae, I’m going to cum,” you gasp.

“No, you aren’t,” he says against your clit, “you’ll cum when I tell you to cum. And do you know why?”

You shake your head, back arching up off the mattress.

“This pussy is mine. Your orgasms belong to me, understood?”

“Yes,” you whine, “please, Tae…”

“Say it,” he commands for the second time tonight.

You moan as he continues his unforgiving ministrations with his fingers and his tongue. “Fine. This pussy is yours. My orgasms belong to you.”

“Good girl,” he whispers and pulls his fingers out of you and pulls his mouth away.

“No, no,” you whine at the lost of contact

“You better start being good, babygirl. You better start showing me that you deserve to cum.”

You really don’t mean to say it, but your bratty side comes out again. You look him in the eye and defiantly say, “Make me,” crossing your arms over your chest.

He leans over your body and picks you up, flipping you over easily. He commands you to get on your hands and knees.

“I’m going to punish you, babygirl. Do you remember the word to say if it’s too much?”

“I remember, yes.” You crawl onto your hands and knees and push your ass toward him, taunting him. You have your legs spread, and with the way you have put your head down on the mattress, your pussy is on full display for him. He can see how slick you are for him and because of him. You can feel how swollen your clit is, and all you want is for him to touch you again. Instead, he brings his hand down with a smack on your ass. You hiss from the sting, but you feel yourself growing wetter somehow. You moan and push your ass further back toward him. He lands four more spanks on the same cheek, and it stings as he rubs his hand over the spot. He presses his lips to the tender spot, and then he presses his lips against your wet pussy before pulling away. 

You try to bite back the whine that is trying to escape your chest. You turn to look at Tae over your shoulder, and you should have just kept looking forward. His pupils are huge, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hand through it. His lips are swollen, and his cheeks are pink. You let out a moan at the sight of him. Desperate to cum.

“Please, Tae. Please let me cum,” you beg, feeling like you might cry.

“Turn around, baby girl,” he says a little more gently than his last commands.

You turn around, and he steps up right in front of you as you sit on the end of the bed. He puts his fingers on your chin again and angles your head up to him. He presses a gentle kiss to your mouth, and then he grabs your hands and brings them to his belt. You can see the outline of his cock through his tight black pants. You have never wanted a cock more in your life than you want his right now.

You unbutton his pants, and the flesh of his dick is right inside the zipper. So he wasn’t wearing underwear. You push his pants down, and he steps the rest of the way out of them. He takes his cock in his hand and strokes it. You look up into his eyes to wait for him to tell you what to do.

“Lie down, babygirl,” he says, and you immediately obey.

His eyes flash with realization for a moment. “I don’t have a condom,” he says in panic, his breathing quickening.

“It’s fine. Are you clean? I’m fine. Birth control. Just fuck me raw,” you can’t think and words are tumbling past your lips.

“I am clean. You’re on birth control? You’re clean?” he asks, slightly more coherent than you are.

“Yes to both. Fuck me raw, Tae, please,” you beg. You feel desperate and crazy.

He pulls your hips to the end of the bed, still standing in front of you. He drags his cock through your arousal, getting his dick slick before he presses against your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, and you feel every millimeter of him exploring every millimeter of you. You let out a loud guttural moan as he continues to push all the way in. He brings his thumb to your clit and pushes messy circles there, and you clench around his dick.

“Fuck, babygirl, you can’t do that. I’m not gonna last long anyway,” he says as he draws himself slowly back out of you and pushes back in slowly.

“Tae…” you pant.

“I know, babygirl. You have to hold on though. Remember your orgasm is mine.”

He starts to thrust in and out of you more urgently. He’s panting, hair falling into his eyes. His breath is ragged as he continues to rub unforgiving circles on your clit. He pushes his hair back with his one free hand, and his tongue darts out to lick the corner of your mouth. You feel yourself careening toward the edge, and you don’t want to disappoint Tae but also can’t stop it. You pant out his name again.

“Cum for me baby girl,” he whispers as he bites your ear lobe, thrusts becoming erratic. You tumble over the edge, warmth filling your stomach as your pussy clenches around him, and your mind goes black as your eyes pinch shut and all of your muscles contract. You let out a low, loud moan, and Tae is crashing like a wave too. He cums hard and moans a long moan, filling you with cum and continuing to fuck it up into you. His hips only stop when you have regained your senses enough to open your eyes.

After he pulls out of you, he disappears for a second. He returns with a warm washcloth. He sets to work cleaning you and then himself. He takes the towel back to the bathroom, and then climbs into bed next to you. “What can I do to take care of you, babygirl?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I want to cuddle you, and maybe watch The Grinch,” you respond in a sleepy voice.

He gets you both under the covers, then pulls your body close to his. “I’ll try to find it, but we might have to watch something else,” he explains as he grabs the remote and flicks on the TV.

“Hey Tae?” you say after you settle on watching HGTV.

He hums in response and pulls his eyes from the screen to look at you. “Can we like...go on a date soon?” you ask, suddenly nervous even though you’re both naked, cuddled in a post sex cocoon.

“I want nothing more than that...and we probably should since your pussy is already mine anyway,” he smiles a huge smile and presses kisses to your temple, cheek, and jawline. You snuggle back in and eventually fall asleep wrapped in one another.

[mego42]

I 100% agree about wanting more fanfic lists! I honestly think it's the best way to get a variety. Everybody has personal preferences, if someone, who mostly reads long, fluffy au Brio fic, is making recs, they're not likely to mention short, angsty, canon Brio (which is understandable and fair!) so ideally someone else, who does like those, would also do recs. I'm pretty sure I've read or at least tried the vast majority of Brio fics, but the recs often make me re-read the fic and author.

YAAASSSS!!! I mean like, okay, I v much get why people have issues with rec lists, and I def do not by any stretch endorse the idea that recs/rec lists should be considered anything other than one person sharing a think they liked, but to me a lot of the issues (the same fics/authors getting recced, feeling like awesome fics/authors are going unrecognized) can be solved by more reccing, not less. everyone’s got different taste and different stuff they look/read for and I am extremely pro sharing that.

Idk, I think about it like this: in a previous internet life I was a YA book blogger and I lived and died by recs from other bloggers whose taste and preferences I knew. I mean, you know, I’d check out a book bc the premise sounded interesting but literally the first thing I would do was go to Goodreads and look for a handful of people who tended to like the same books I did and see what they were saying about it bc that was the best way to get a good idea of if I wanted to give it a shot. Or, on the flip side, there were some people whose reviews I followed bc I knew we v much did not read for the same things so if they hated a book for X, Y and Z reasons, I was probs going to like it (one thing about book blogging is if you want to keep current, you do not have a lot of time to mess around, snap judgements are key but that’s a whole other thing and idk if it’s even relevant anymore bc that landscape has changed so much). 

ANYWAY, the point is, I got in the habit and now I do the same thing with fic bc, tbh, I don’t have a ton of time to read, esp not when I’m actively writing which, with the exception of the last week or two, I’ve been doing p non-stop since I got here. All of which to say is, I am desperately in favor of fic recs for purely selfish reasons, I need them! Give them to me!!! Please!!!!!

That said, I uh, am v bad at returning the favor and I recognize that (I think I’ve made what? two rec lists for this fandom?) so I will try to do better to live by my own, idek what this is, moving on and here are 10 recs not really thematically linked by anything other than I’ve read them and loved them and don’t think I’ve put any of them on one of my rec lists yet (and if I have, my blog is a trainwreck I cannot be expected to remember what’s on it LET ME LIVE):

The Goodest Boy by EnsignDisaster

There’s a key turning in the lock and Buddy rushes over to greet his Master excited for her to meet his new friends. The door opens and he dances around Master’s feet rejoicing on the fact that she’s made it home. It's been literally forever.

“Hey Buddy what’s wrong? Need to go potty? Need to pee-pee?”

“Nah he’s good we took him out.”

Master does something very unMasterlike, she drops all the food she’d brought in on the ground and screams. It’s a non traditional avant garde type of hello…Buddy loves it. Mostly because while Master taps furiously on her small light box and sits tense in the corner opposite his new friend Buddy can lick up the egg smashed on the hardwood floor.

Buddy! The! Dog! POV! no further explanation necessary. Technically WIP, but it covers the whole pilot in a way that could be read as standalone (THOUGH THAT WOULD V MUCH GIVE ME A SAD though, when did the show forget the Bolands had a dog? so maybe that’s a tragic casualty of canon, idk)

May The Moon’s Silvery Beams by @pynkhues

Emma hums in agreement, and Rio turns her around to sit her on the counter, grabbing one of the older looking boxes of muesli while she kicks her legs out, heels bumping back against the counter, watching him. He gropes around the inside of the box, finally just opting to pull the plastic cereal bag out and peering inside. He can’t quite keep the grin off his face when he sees the wad of cash lining the bottom. This woman kills him, she really does.

Then there’s a little face peering up beside him, trying to peek into the box.

“What is it?” she asks, and he tilts the box sideways so she can see inside.

The upside to not getting here until s3 is that old fic is new to me! Huzzah!! Idk how many of y’all have already read this on but if you haven’t I highkey recommend. Extremely cute take on what if Emma woke up when Rio and came by to collect his/Beth’s/whoever's money during the shutdown. Cannot believe I’m reccing kidfic. Witchcraft!!!!!!

Maybe You’re My Fantasy by ohmisterjapan

He fucking loves the involuntary. It speaks to how he likes to unlock chaos and walk away. He's been called a control freak before and it felt like such a misunderstanding of him - he's all about self control but he doesn't want to control others. It's more that he enjoys revealing to them how little they can control themselves. It's more that he likes to stand still in the eye of someone else's storm and pick coldly through the wreckage.

Another oldie but a goodie. This fic is more like an extended character study (first chapter Rio POV, second chapter Beth) and I LIVE FOR THIS KIND OF SHIT. I really really really love the take on both characters, it really digs in and pulls out some nuances that made me sit and think about my own read of them and I love it.

A Shock Of Blue by mintletters16

“You don’t look very well. Would you… like me to get you a glass of water or something?”

Her voice is low but smooth, laced with a softness that cuts straight though to his core. Strawberry blonde locks fall gently just above the pair of magnets freezing him in place.

He can still feel the chaos tearing through his veins - emanating from the gold plated gun stuffed in his waistband - and suddenly he can’t be here anymore. Can’t meet this wide-eyed gaze that’s been locked on his for the past God-knows-how-long anymore.

Can’t see blue alive and concerned when he just left it cold and void somewhere in oblivion.

She’s looking at him like he’s on the brink of madness. He thinks maybe he is.

Apparently, it’s backlist rec day over here and I’m not sorry. This one is another technical WIP but the chapter works as a standalone (BUT if the author decided to return to it I WOULD NOT BE MAD). It’s a what if Beth and Rio met pre-canon and it works so!!! well!!!! The tension and fascination and build are all *chef’s kiss* plus the writing is gorgeous and lyrical and ugh, I love it.

for a moment we were strangers by openhearts

“We got stuff,” Rio motions with a nod to the backpack Beth hadn’t noticed when they arrived hanging on the back of one of the chairs at the island.

She swallows and turns back to the dishes, realizing Rio apparently means to sleep there , assuming the place isn’t bugged.  Or for some kind of cover story if it is.  She turns and fixes Rio with a narrow-eyed stare, studying his face, the corner of his jaw especially prominent from the angle she’s looking up at him.  He’s methodical about drying each dish and setting it back on the rack, maddeningly ignoring her hard stare, so when he goes to take the next plate from her hands she grips it tightly and gets his attention.

“Hey.”

“What you on about now?” he asks, irritated.

It gets her gut uneasy, how he’s just . . . there, settling in, in ways he never had before, no matter how nonchalantly he would let himself in through her locked doors.  

“This is,” Beth tries, failing, to find words for it, “. . . it’s weird .”

This one takes place post 204 and Rio and Marcus end up spending a long weekend staying with Beth and Emma for reasons (that work, for the record, I’m just not trying to summarize rn) and it’s domestic and cute but honestly my fav part of it is how weirded out Beth is by how easily they slip into sync. The story does an excellent job balancing where they are in canon (uneasy post-sex truce) with a snapshot of what they could be if they got over themselves (HA! as if) and Beth is DEEPLY FREAKED which makes her slow slide into realizing she could maybe sort of kind of oh shit like it/him??? that much more satisfying.

Not So Careful by @bensonstablers

When he doesn’t answer, her eyes go to his but he’s too busy watching the letter opener which is still pressed against the back of his hand. Curiously, Beth runs it up his arm, careful not to press too hard, and smiles a little as he shivers. Pulling her leg up onto the bed, she shuffles closer to him before pressing the tip of the sword to his chest and slowly circling his left nipple with it, being sure not to get too close.

“You ain’t gotta be that careful.”

And when she lifts her eyes to meet his, he’s got that look. The one that always makes a lump form in her throat and for her to fall back into bed with him without a single thought of what they have to do that day. Only thing is, this time they’ve got nothing to do for the rest of the weekend and well, staying in bed the entire time had seemed like an appealing idea so she allows herself to give in a little to that look.

It makes me EXTREMELY SAD that knifeplay ranked so low on the kink survey so I’m gonna need y’all to check out this V V V EXCELLENT example of it and come back and tell me you’re sorry and you voted wrong. I am v reasonable what are you talking about.

love (where it wasn’t supposed to be) by @lilliloves

"You know what I can't stand?" Rio asks, stepping closer. It's a rhetorical question but he pauses for a second and watches Dean sniff, watches a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, watches him shift on both his feet as he contemplates making a run for it.

"A guy who don’t realize how good he's got it." Rio continues, looking Dean up and down in disgust. "A guy that will literally fuck up a good thing just to get his dick wet."

"Yeah, well I can't stand a guy who can have anyone he wants but chooses the married woman he's not entitled to.” Dean shoots back. "And I really can't stand the fact that you're always in the room with us even when you aren't there."

And who brings him into the room Dean hmmmmm????? Jk, jk (or am I). In this one Rio catches Dean out on the town with another woman (bc of course he is) and tries to call him out but whoops! gets called out himself. I really love the like, idk, undercurrent of wistful regret in this fic. I love Dean straight up calling Rio out on his feelings (spoilers but there’s an exchange right after this one that made me straight up holler), and, you know, obvs I am here for Rio making Dean feel like an ass. 

Hell Is Other People by makemanybraver

Rio: We're in Hell, Elizabeth! If you don't think you belong here, then repent! Don't fuck everyone in the room in hopes that you get to go out!

Beth: Why do I have to repent?!

Rio: Because you did some fucked up shit in your life, Elizabeth! You keep doing fucked up shit here, too! And you think you don't belong here!

Beth [screaming at the top of her lungs]: Because I don't!

This fic is existentially bonkers and I love it. It’s the kind of experimental format/homage/what have you kind of thing that I L O V E. Based on No Exit by Jean-Paul Sartre, Beth, Rio, and Fitzpatrick are stuck together in a room in hell for all eternity. What more do you need, honestly.

Working On Things by odenkirk

Unknown Hold up, Elizabeth. I'm really thinkin about you here.

Beth turned her face into the pillow, effectively suffocating herself for a moment, but thinking it was a good trade off for the way the cool silk of her pillowcase chilled her skin.

She lifted her head to glance at the still sleeping Dean before replying.

Beth I'm thinking about you too. But this can't happen.

She wanted him to know she wanted him, but she also thought that admitting she was already there would save Rio from trying to convince her. She wanted him, but morals had to win just once in a while.

YES this is technically Beth/Dean while also being Beth/Rio BUT it’s also sort of Rio/Dean and I am HERE FOR THE DIVERSITY OF SHIPPING leave me alone who asked you.

Five Times He Knew What She Was Thinking, and One Time He Didn't by JoeyLee

Aight, so tell ‘em I was hittin’ it. Said deliberately blunt, eyes locked on her face the whole time, just to see those blue eyes widen. She looked so shocked that he almost laughed, so he softened it teasingly just to keep her going. Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart, tell ‘em we were makin’ love.

Then he just watched her, just watched her face, just fucking fascinated. Her lips were parted and her eyes were big as saucers, and…there it was. Before she could look away flustered, he watched the thought go through her mind. Him and her together.

He wondered what she was picturing or where. Them in the back seat, her bed, a motel?  Her on top or him from behind or his face between her legs?

Whatever it was, the blush started immediately, and he watched it bloom out from her cheeks to her hair. Then she was tearing her eyes away to gulp a little.  But it didn’t knock her down for long before she was looking back. And then, wait, was she actually asking him how to go about telling a fed they were fucking?

Okay this is another technical WIP but works as a standalone. I am absolutely fucking feral for character POV takes of canon scenes and this is a supremely excellent take on Rio POV of some notable scenes from the pilot through 204. Imo it brilliantly captures Rio’s voice and I love it a lot. 

HEADS UP I am absolute shite at tracking ao3 to tumblr unless people have specifically told me someone’s ao3/tumblr name SO if you recognize any of the non-tumblr authors on please lmk so I can tag them and YES I recognize that I am asking y’all to do things for me throughout this entire post and I’M SORRY OKAY I’M A WHOLE ASS MESS LOVE YOU BYE

[anime-apparently]

Hello, may I request both a female and male ( to be matched with, if that's alright to ask for) matchup please and thank you for Food wars . LINK -  The first part is shortships (.) tumblr (.) (com) (without the parentheses). You can take as much time as you need to, I don’t mind being patient & waiting.

I match you with...

NAKIRI ALICE

- Alice took interest in you upon seeing you around a lot in her classes

- she may act childish but she sees through people really well

- she keeps on bugging you to be her friend (and honestly she flirts a lot but you never notice it huhu) and soon you give in

- there are tons of moments when she'll scold you on blending in with people and trying to act the way others do

- she hates that you say you're fine even if you aren't and she hates that you think people hate you if you act as you are

- so she slowy helps you out your shell

- she's surprisingly good with handling occasional anxiety attacks

- you two share the perfectionist attitude and it takes Ryo to stop you both once you two decide to perfect a dish

- she's so happy when you start being really comfortable around her (it took a couple months) and would often send Ryo away to spend time with you

- Kurokiba Ryo kinda scares you but he's a good friend too

- both of you get bored easily so i can imagine weird trips and activities

- you two match a lot- both of you are stubborn too and while you have the temper, Alice can control hers so she's like your anger management counselor

- you normally are more distracted than her and she gets grumpy when you get distracted and not pay attention

- it was by the second year that you two got together and it was Ryo who got you two together

- holy shit you didn't expect Ryo to give you a pep talk but he did, he asked you to put your worries aside and what others would say and put your happiness first

- Alice was the one who confessed (she had been confessing since last year but you can't really pick up the signs)

- she got annoyed (jealous *cough) in one of your rants about how your cat did something and you weren't paying attention at the dish she's serving so she just slammed her lips to yours

- "See you're a good kisser! That means you'll be a good girlfriend! Bye, Ryo-kun!" *proceeds to drag you to a five star restaurant for a date*

- she teaches you how to speak in Danish and you just fall more uwu

- the amount of romance novels she had recommended to you tho

- it's surprising to you that she knows how to play videogames but when you saw her and Ryo playing Mario Kart once you understood she knew more than should be for a Nakiri

- your sarcastic side is something she treasures a lot like the burn from you like damnnn "did you hit your head when your mom held you? Oh wait, she probably didn't." fuck when you said this to Erina's dad (albeit under your breath) she just burst out laughing

- she takes great joy seeing you be clumsy because despite her childishness she's still a Nakiri who's probs perfect in everything so she's not a clutz

- she enjoys seeing you tongue tied especially if she flirts with you "Hey, that top doesn't look good on you. I think I'm the top that would look good on you." "Alice- I- aaugjnskvfjdnz."

- you get insecure about you and her's relationship because of Ryo but she assures you that she belongs to you only

- you also get insecure what would people think of your relationship

- once there was a student who brought up your sexuality and Alice snapped (she made out with you in front of everyone thaz hot)

- Ryo is insanely protective of you two especially on dates (once -actually a lot of times- when you two had a rare PDA moment, he glared at everyone who tried to even look the slightest bit disgusted)

- she pushes you to think of yourself first before others

- she's a really sweet girlfriend who brings out the best in you

- you two really go well together and you're a power couple

I match you with...

YUKIHIRA SOMA

- this boy i swear asdfghjkl

- he doesn't really know how to read a mood so he'll just randomly pair up with you and talk up a storm

- he makes you panic because there are times where he's really messy and your OCD just kicks in

- but he's the sweetest boy

- you two get in trouble a lot for being distracted in class

- he's really persistent in being friends so after a few months, you give in

- like Alice, he urges you to be more open and to be more outgoing

- he doesn't mind that you're a human chameleon and he understands it takes time

- he's really patient with you and always thrive to make sure you're comfortable

- he laughs it off if you're temper goes up and calms you down

- you two didn't get together until end of second year

- you're both dense in romance anyways and it hurts to watch you both acting all sweet and shrug it off as a friendly thing

- "what type of friend cuddles on the same bed and sleeps spooning especially if you are opposite genders" is what yuki said and honestly she's right

- it started when Soma once saw you having a panic attack and now he occasionally slips in your bed to sleep with you and make sure you're safe in his arms

- he likes seeing you tongue tied and would often tease you about it

- he likes flirting with you too and see your red face (but poor boy is probably not that good with it)

- "you know, Peter Pan said if I think of all the pretty, beautiful things I'd be able to fly. But why is it that when I thought of you I fell for you instead?"

- *cue you turning red and tripping over your words but you managed to blurt out* "did you just call me ugly or told me you fell for me?"

- in this tho you are the one who confessed, it was the simple typical confession and he's so relieved (apparently he's crushing on you too)

- you help him create weird dishes especially when you're bored and you both laugh if it tastes really bad

- there are a lot of game nights

- he doesn't really like books so you're probs the one reading while he goes and just watch you read peacefully and scrunch up your nose in distate at parts where the characters annoy you (he finds this really cute)

- this little shite probably brings spiders to show you just to scare you

- he's your pillar to lean on and he knows perfectly when to intervene if you get frustrated trying to perfect something

- you are both sarcastic and quirky so there are a lot of childish banter

- he laughs at you if your clutz side kick in before helping you up

- there are really a lot of experimental dishes you two create

- while he's impulsive at times, you tend to carefully weigh out the options so it stresses you if he accepts/initiates a food war

- he breaks your insecurities and is a really supportive boyfriend

- he always says "you are the best girlfriend in any plane of existence."

- like Alice, he might be childish but he's not ignorant

- he instantly knows if something is wrong, he makes sure your mental health is stable, he helps you express yourself more, he actually broke your habit of saying "i'm fine" when you're not

- he can see if a guy tries to flirt with you (apparently he's not daft when it's about you) and he scares them off

- he's a really caring boyfriend and knows when to cheer you up

- your fears slowly disappear because of him

- because with him you know he won't abandon you

- your relationship is built on trust and honestly you two are a power couple

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! I'm so sorry it's late but thank you for your patience. I really have the match ups lines up in my notes but I tend to procrastinate in posting them.

[elliottalksalot]

Hiii I would like to request for a male genshin matchup if thats cool:] I'm a straight female, Sagittarius and an INFJ-T. I have brown eyes and brown-ish black-ish hair and glasses which I tend to lose often heh. I like spending time with those close to my heart but I also value my personal space and time. I like to travel but I don't mind staying in one place and settling down. I don't like frogs, I have a phobia of them for some reason. I can take other creatures like cockroaches, rats, heck even snakes, but no frogs plz:< I don't like aggresive confrontation and I'm the type of person to diffuse tense situations. I don't like heated arguments as well, they make me uncomfortable and give me huge anxiety:<

What I want in a partner is someone who is willing to listen to me, and in turn I'll listen to them. I want someone who shares the same values as I do as well. Respecting me, my beliefs and my family and friends is definitely a must. I want someone who I can confide in (and vice versa) and create a special and deep bond with. I want a relationship that isn't shallow or only about love, but about other things like trust. Someone who is patient and can humour me in the silly things I do would be really cool too:) My love languages are prob all of them ngl:] For hobbies I like listening to music and singing to myself, daydreaming, knitting and crocheting if I have the materials and reading!

I think I'm the type of person who comes across either as really intimidating or really shy, but when you really get to know me, a kind, outspoken, and sometimes feisty person. I'm kind of between being that responsible mom friend and being that friend who radiates crackhead energy, (lmao idk either) depending on the situation and vibe. I'm an independent person with strong morals, although I'm always willing to listen to other people's perspectives. I'm a pretty carefree person, and I'm someone who is willing to help another through their problems, whether that is just by listening, giving advice when asked, etc. I'm also pretty moody tho, and there are definitely times where I go from optimistic to pessimistic and vice versa. I also work well under pressure and I'm definitely an overachiever. I tend to invalidate myself and my feelings a lot and I tend to overwork, overthink, and stress myself out a lot because I bottle my emotions up:(

I don't really have an ideal date in mind, maybe something where I can really get to know the person, like maybe doing something that the other person likes doing and one that can be away from other people as well, so privacy yes. Maybe like a picnic date, a private dinner, learning the hobby of the other person or even a date that just involves staying in. For aesthetic I've been told that my aesthetic is "scholarly academia" I just asked my friend and thats what I was told hehe:]

I hope this was okay and I just kind of started to ramble so sorry about that hihi:] anyway I hope you're doing well, stay safe:]

Hi Hi! You’re my first Genshin Impact request! I hope you enjoy this and stay safe as well! I match you with...

ALBEDO

Okay so! You both seem to be calm and collected people who would listen to each other! And really I can’t say much else so onto the HEADCANONS!

ROMANTIC HEADCANONS/SCENARIO:

You were friends with Kaeya

He introduced yall two to eachother once he found out you wanted to start you childhood hobby of painting again.

Y’all unsurprisingly got along well

He, not knowing had to go about this, asked Kaeya for advice.

Terrible idea really

There was a bunch of failed attempts before Diluc just got tired of you two flirting in his bar and told you Albedo liked you

It got the point across clearly.

You’re first date was just chilling in the bar

Neither of you drank much so you just sat drawing different people passing by

He walked you home and you gave him a kiss on the doorstep

Cliche Cute Assholes

Klee likes you. Like a lot, she has brought you bombs of love only for them to blow up in your face literally

You never get mad at her for it

Fights with Albedo don’t happen often

You both find them draining and prefer to talk stuff out before it gets to that point

✨ Healthy Communication things ✨

“ (Name) Love, Do you think you can get me the watercolor? “ Albedo asked you turned away focusing on his painting . You two were on a outdoor date for inspiration when Albedo decided to surprise you. Getting the paint you hand it to him then go to sit back down. After some time you hear Albedo putting supplies away. “ You can look now , dear. “ It was a painting of you sitting there. Wind blowing your hair, clothes ruffled. “ You..” You stuttered in surprise . Albedo only smiled innocently before he pressed a Kidd to your forehead . “ I think we should head back now? “

Songs That Remind Me Of Your Relationship!:

Put Your Records On - Ritt Momney

Put Your Head On My Shoulder - Paul Anka

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows - Lesley Gore

The Book Of Love - Peter Gabriel

Then He Kissed Me - The Crystals

DYNAMIC!:

That one healthy couple with next to no problems you can’t help but be jealous of. Come on y’all are perfect for eachother.

✨HEADCANONS✨

You have a whole portfolio of drawings/paintings Albedo had done of you

You once made a flower crown for Albedo and he still has it

Klee once called you ‘ Big Sis ‘ and you started crying right there

You and Albedo don’t really celebrate birthdays so you just have a date at the winery alone with eachother

Your favorite color is blue because of him though he just say ‘ because it’s the color of the sky “

You both have missed sleep time just tirelessly working on paintings

Once Albedo drew Kaeya and Diluc as thanks and left it on their desk. He didn’t leave a note nor signature but they knew who it was from

Just Wholesomeness between you two really

AND THATS A WRAP! HOPE YOU LIKE THIS

[trance-griff]

Kyoka Jiro x Kaminari Denki Part Two

Word count (pt.2): 1716

Warnings: None, just fluff.

Part three 

                                            ■□■□■□■□■□■□■□■

Kaminari Denki woke up that morning groggily, throwing off the blanket to the side, a hand reaching down to scratch his exposed stomach before sitting up with the loudest yawn- running his fingers through his yellow locks- before drooping his shoulders, head-turning to the digital alarm clock.

Eight-Thirty AM.

Today was the day. The highlight of his high-school life about to begin the moment he steps out of the building; he couldn’t wait to meet up with the rest of his buddies and classmates. The arcade, karaoke, and beach called out to him and he quickly jumped out of bed. “Come on buddy, new day, great day!”  Grabbing his mobile- he scrolled through the group chat of class 3-A, the class president is the first to be up and greeting everyone a good morning, affirming whether they were all awake, he was already radiating authority and optimism this early in the morning.

As expected from the class president, the emergency exit guy.

Everyone seemed to be active in the group chat, expressing their excitement even Todoroki had gone about explaining what pair of swimming trunks to take. ‘The red one… Or the blue?’ with Bakugou replying with ‘Live up to your name you half n half bastard!’

It caused Denki to snort, skimming through the chat, giving replies of his own as he sauntered about the room, running his fingers through disheveled strands and picking whatever item needed for today- lazily prepping his duffle bag- until he noticed something off. Everyone on the group chat was online except for one particular person. Kyoka Jiro.

Now that Denki thought of it, she hadn’t been very excited for the trip, avoiding the topic as a whole, not to mention she in general just wasn’t herself. On edge is how he would word it. He wasn’t very book smart, but Denki was always quick to notice these things, being socially intelligent and all. Without hesitation he pressed the green call button, waiting for the call to get through as he pressed the device to his ear and plopped himself on his bed, back against the wall. The two weren’t best friends per se, but they were still close and understood each other on a different level, he respected and admired her.... maybe a little too much, but he wondered if she felt the same way.

“I doubt it…”

                                                           ■□■

Kyoka Jiro was in deep sleep when the buzzing of her phone woke her from her slumber, with squinted eyes she couldn’t believe the name displayed on her phone and perceived it as her in a dream, deciding to roll to her side comfortably, the blanket huddled up under her chin- not until the buzzing started to annoy her that she checked her phone with a frustrated sigh and realized it was indeed Kaminari Denki calling. She rubbed her eyes and pinched herself now fully aware that she was not dreaming. “Heck?”

But why would he be calling?

Deciding to stop overthinking, she sat up and answered her phone with a lazy hello, covering up her stutters with a yawn or an annoyed sigh, a hand reaching up to play with her dark strands. “Oh! Jiro! Morning~!” There was amusement laced in his voice, Jiro flinched, having just woken up, she didn’t need to hear Denki’s energetic voice so early…

…

Wait… What was today…?!

Drawing her curtains open, she was met with the piercing sunlight, cursing under her breath as she shielded her eyes momentarily, the room now bright enough for her to glance at the clock mounted to the wall. “Shit…”

She could hear laughter on the other side of the line, inciting a groan from her. “You totally forgot, didn’t you?” The female was tempted to snap, but bit her lip and instead smiled at his joyous hilarity, her chest swelling up as she pressed the device closer to her ear. “Yeah, yeah. It’s not funny, y’know?” She breathed out, fully awake and aware of her surroundings, she still had time to get ready and leave to meet up with the girls, they agreed to meet up at Tsuyu’s place which wasn’t too far. Stepping to her closet, she shuffled around to pick out her clothes with Denki still chortling in the background. “Can’t help it, it’s not like you to be late or forgetful.” He wasn’t wrong, with how anxious she was about today, she ended up sleeping quite late because of a certain person invading her thoughts, little did she know he would be the first she’d talk to, and it helped ease her mind; miraculously. Maybe because she didn’t have to /face/ him at this very moment.

“I guess. A-Anyway, thanks for calling… to uh wake me up…” She trailed off, cursing under her breath for her awkwardness, she could hear him exhale, picking up on every sound that was emitted by him, her cheeks red as she patiently waited for him to respond. “Uh… yeah! No probs. See you soon?” Denki had more to say, she waited for him to say more but time was passing by and she needed to get ready. “Yeah… Later.” After hanging up, Jiro stared at her mobile before leaning her head against a wall, the shirt she had picked out earlier; clenched between fingers, before realization dawned upon her, why didn’t she ask him when she had the chance?

Why did he call…? More like, why bother calling in the first place?

Knowing she wasn’t going to get her answers, Jiro continued with her day, following her morning routine, and was soon out hurrying towards Tsuyu’s place greeting the females and explaining her tardiness, excluding the part where Denki called her. She didn’t want to be teased, and Mina would definitely talk loudly about it.

“You’re here now, that’s what matters!” Hagakure exclaimed, patting the other’s back.

                                                           ■□■

The class finally gathered at their meeting point, the lot of them assembling like that caught a lot of attention so by default they split into groups, some deciding to go shopping instead of the arcade, some had other plans, they promised to meet up again with Tenya Iida throwing in instructions, hands moving in all sorts of ways. “I think we’ll all be fine, Iida…” Izuku Midoriya assured with a sheepish laugh, a hand behind his neck, causing the class president to relax and adjust his glasses. “You’re right, Izuku. Alright! You’re all dismissed!” Everyone mumbled their complaints, they weren’t on a class trip, they didn’t need any babying. “Hey, Hey! The arcade’s right there! Let’s go!” Mina was dragging Jiro towards the direction of the arcade, only to realize the rest of the females weren’t tagging along.

“I get terrible migraines with all the lights; I’ll sit this one out.” Momo explained, lightly rubbing her head with a sympathetic smile, even though it was her idea to go to the arcade and gain an experience of a lifetime, meanwhile Uraraka gestured towards Midoriya with fidgety hands, unable to look at anyone directly in the eye. “I- Maybe I should just check on Deku!” And ran off towards the direction of the freckled boy, Hagakure had disappeared in thin air (No pun intended) Mina explaining she saw her walk off with Ojiro earlier and nudged Jiro with a wink. “They’re cute together, right?” Jiro only laughed sheepishly. “Probably…” and Tsuyu? She simply idled with Tokoyami and Shouji, lounging with them silently, the arcade was not her sort of thing.

Jiro felt betrayed, she certainly didn’t want to spend time with the obnoxious group, knowing full well Denki was there, her stomach churned and she clutched it, despite their short call earlier, all the nerves in her body tensed, this is why she was avoiding this dreadful day, she was stuck with him and Mina did a good job keeping her around. “Oh, Jiro!” She was greeted by the yellow-haired individual, wincing and avoiding his gaze, she was sure he would bring up their previous interaction but surprisingly he didn’t even mention it, not even subtly. “Can we go already?!” Katsuki’s voice boomed, no one flinched at his brash behavior, even Jiro who blankly stared at him, the temperamental bully stormed off on his own while Kirishima ran behind his friend. “Wait up, man!”

“Then hurry the fuck up!” And everyone followed, increasing their pace to catch up to the ticking bomb of a man, at least someone was looking forward to the arcade. As they made their way inside, music and neon lights flooded their vision and hearing, the adrenaline rushing through them and Jiro grinned, the colors of the neon lights reflecting against her skin, the pink and orange and blues called out to her; for a second forgetting all her worries, as much as she liked instruments, the arcade was also her go-to place, she wasn’t a gamer so to say, but now and then she’d spend time playing video games. “Ready to kick some butt?!” Mina challenged the group, running in the direction of the counter to get started with all the games. They were all pumped up, Jiro only stared at them from a distance, a little too shy to open up, as she was lost in her thoughts; once again, a nudge to the shoulder brought her back, Denki purposefully bumped shoulders with Jiro, catching her attention and staring up at him, immediately freezing on the spot. “W-What do you want?” She questioned irritably. “Ready to get your butt kicked?” His confidence radiated as he grinned with his teeth exposed, Jiro responded by straightening her posture shoving her hands into her pockets. “Losers treat winners.”

With a little nudge to his shoulder, Jiro was instantly reminded of their previous interactions, interactions that didn’t involve her getting panicked or flustered around the ball of energy, when things were ‘normal,’ when her feelings were undiscovered and their bond was purely playful and ordinary. This one-sided unrequited love pinched at her chest causing frustration but, just for today… She would enjoy every moment and lock up the feelings that hindered her. These were memories being made for them to keep as they grow older and pursue adulthood and no way would she ruin today because of a one-sided emotion, it wasn’t like Kyoka Jiro at all.

[sluttysan]

ATEEZ trying mutual masturbation with you

✰Seonghwa:

Seonghwa is down to try anything that includes you and him in a bed naked together

And he already is a dominant person as your bf, but he’s still gentle and sweet

But he loved any chance to break out of his sweet and gentle nature

Which he never failed to show you when it comes to your sexual experiences with him

So you’ll always get a little bit more of his dominant side, even when he wasn’t allowed to touch you

And you bet he was more than ready to take you up on your offer

He finds fun in this way more than you’d think 

So you’ll be surprised to see how you will end up being the one who couldn't handle not touching him

And did he take this opportunity to tease you? 100% most definitely he did 

Seonghwa will keep eye contact as he rubbed his growing cock, saying the dirtiest shit to you

“Fuck, look how hard I am getting for you. Too bad you can’t suck me off” 

“You like watching me stroke my cock like this, don’t you?”

He’ll even start instructing you on how to touch yourself

“Open your legs wider, let daddy see you finger yourself”

His eye contact will be so intense

Ends up controlling the situation

“Don’t cum without me”

When he lets you cum, he’ll continue to watch you 

Then he’d release himself, groaning shamelessly as he cums on his thigh

✰Hongjoong:

Is crazy in love with masturbating with you

Like the idea is so exhilarating to him

Boy strokes his cock very quickly 

And moans super loudly

Enjoys it more than you do tbh

Like doing something he once only did in private in front of you was exciting to him

Edges himself to try to last longer than you

Like he’ll jerk himself off until he feels like he’ll cum

But then he’ll stop himself and catch his breath

Is the type to still find ways to touch you

Bc as much as he tried, he just has to

Like when you least expect it, he’ll grab you by the neck and sloppily makeout with you for like 10 secs

And his lips would be on yours before you could do anything about it cheater

He’ll also nibble on your neck 

But like it’s helping you get closer to your climax so you wouldn’t mind

He really gets lost in the moment tbh and will probably end up cumming before you anyways

Expect to witness how he sounds as he’s getting himself off when you’re not around

Like how he’d let out a few staggering moans and grunt as he came

And he cums all over his stomach

If you’re still not done, he’ll offer to eat you out until you were

✰Yunho:

Let’s be honest, Yunho is lowkey a very dirty minded one

Like normally, he’s a soft ass who makes jokes that genuinely make you laugh sometimes

But he’s a completely different person when it comes to all things sexual 

And he’s down to try almost anything with you

But when you brought mutual masturbation on the table, he would giggle

Normally, he’d stop being goofy when it comes to said sexual things, especially when you’re going to be completely naked

But you two were masturbating by each other in bed, and he found that to be kind of funny a childish man™

But then he would hate the idea of not being able to touch you

So he really though this through before agreeing

Even though he knew it wasn't his cup of tea, he decided to do it once for you

He was still going to have fun with you regardless

Ok so probably halfway in, he somehow turns it into a competition bc boy’s competitive 

So he’ll watch your every move and tries to make himself last as long as you

"You’re going to cum before me, I just know it”

You two would end up competing to see who cums last

And he’ll hold it in until you couldn’t

You could see him struggle to hold himself in, but as soon you came, so did he

Cums all over the sheets same as if he were by himself

Laughs afterwards, telling you to never suggest that ever again unless you wanted to lose...again

✰Yeosang:

Tbh is so fucking awkward about it at first

Like he’ll mess up with even taking off his own clothes bc he has no clue on what to expect

Is quiet at the start

Is a bit timid because he’s jerking off while you’re there, something he usually just did by himself

Even though you’re also touching yourself, he still feels shy

But once he sees that you’re getting into it, you’ll see him grow 

His eyes would go back and forth between your face to your fingers

He’d lick his lips as he watched you rubbed your clit and finger yourself

He’ll move closer to you, groaning and enthralled, looking down at his own cock occasionally as he played with himself 

He finds that he actually likes it...well, for the most part

He’d like it even more if you let him at least kiss you

Yeosang’s very sensual when it comes to doing intimate things with you

So he would end up kissing you deeply as he continued to stroke himself

And his kisses would be so slow and comforting

So if you were nervous before, like him, you’ll both end up enjoying it more than when you started

It would be a pretty lengthy experience with him, and he prefers to take his time with it

Yeosang would make it into something more than just masturbating next to each other

And he’s very patient with you, so if you weren’t ready to cum at the same time he was, he wouldn’t mind holding it in 

Would love to cum on your stomach or anywhere on your body since you’re there, he finds it more intimate that way

✰San:

When you first ask San to try it, he’s super excited

Like this boy will love trying anything sexual with you

But then almost instantly regrets it

He just would not have the patience

Literally this boy could probs jerk off 2-3x a day easily 

You would think he would be into it for that reason alone 

But honestly he would rather not touch himself when you’re literally right there

And he’ll tell you that

“wHy CaN’t wE jUsT fUcK?” annoying ass

Like you being right in front of him while he touches himself is one thing

And you being naked is another thing

But you touching yourself while naked??? and in front of him??? 

And you’re telling him he can touch himself but can’t touch you????

That’s a big FUCK and NO in San’s book

Will most definitely try to touch you, so you’re going to have to swat his hand away multiple times

Does it on purpose and it’s obvious

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do that for you?”

Honestly you’re going to have to deal with him one of two ways  

You could 1. promise to try something he’s been wanting to try with you

And just like that, he would switch up and comply with you

Like suddenly there would be enthusiasm

However, this lil shit would just hurry up and try his best to cum fast so he could get it over with so he could try that new something

Or 2. just give the boy the head/quickie he wants

Either way, San wins

✰Mingi:

First of all, Mingi would try anything with you, no matter how unsure he was about it

And boy was he unsure about this

But he’ll try his best bc he's whipped for you

Expect lots of questions though

“So I just touch myself?”

“Mhm.”

“Like this?”

“Mingi, have you not masturbated before”

You’re going to be the one guiding him since he’s never done it before in front of you or probably anyone 

Is so fucking nervous and might need a little help getting hard at first

“Just touch yourself like how you normally would”

“...Okay, I’ll try”

And so he’ll close his eyes and naturally start stroking himself as if he’s the only one there

Breathes loudly and bites his lip, and he’ll open his eyes to look at you every now and then 

His glancing will turn into staring and admiring you

Becomes so tempted to touch you

Especially when you’re sprawled out like that with your legs spread as you’re moaning and watching him back

It makes him so weak

“I really want to touch you right now, baby. This is so hard”

But doesn’t reach out to touch you or anything bc he wants to still give it his all for you

Asks if you were close, and waits so that you both could cum together

He really just wants to take in whatever he could from the experience

Releases himself quietly bc he likes hearing your moans

So much more when he hears you moan his name

Leaves a mess as he’s cumming, gets a little bit on you

Would only try it again if you two were going to touch each other, bc he would find it more enjoyable that way

✰Wooyoung:

Another impatient bitch

Literally whines the entire time

Doesn’t get the point of doing it because you’re right there

“Let’s just have sex instead”-Wooyoung one minute in

You probably won’t enjoy it for this reason in particular

Tries to get you to change your mind about trying it out

“Wouldn’t it be better if I finger you and you jerk me off? Wouldn’t that be more fun?”

“I feel like if I wanted to touch myself I would do it on my own, you know?”

When he sees you wouldn’t let him get his way, he stops pleading with you and gives you what you want

So he’ll pretend he’s getting into it

And you’ll never know he was just faking 

That's his way of finding a way out of it 

Bc this one was not about to cum from stroking himself when you’re with him

So you better believe he’ll stroke himself super slowly and just wait for you to cum first

And the second you do so, it gets him even hornier

So before you knew it, he’ll be on top of you 

“Well, looks like I failed at this. I have no choice but to fuck you”

You’ll probably never try this with him again bc this one practically sees it as a form of torture

✰Jongho:

Tbh when you bring it up with Jongho, he’ll be confused

Like it didn’t make sense for you to touch yourself in front of him when he was there, and vice versa

Goes in very skeptical, but he’ll still try it with you bc you wanted to

Doesn’t get hard right away because he’s extremely shy about it

Like even just normal intimacy with you made him hella shy already 

So jerking off in front of you is something he's not going to get used to any time soon

Thinks it’s something that should just stay in private

So he’ll have that mindset going though with it

But again, bc he loves you, he’ll do it with you

Even though he’d rather touch you and not himself at the moment

So he’d sigh and agree reluctantly

But when he sees you enjoying yourself, he starts growing and getting all hot and bothered

And he’ll have a change of heart when he hears you moaning his name

Is more fascinated with how you masturbate more than anything

“Is...this how you do it all the time? You moan my name?”

So he’ll end up watching you for the most part and doesn’t really tend to himself

So his hands just kind of sit on his hard member, rubbing slowly at the sight of you

Before he knew it, you’ll end up cumming before him

And then he’ll feel awkward bc you’re already finished and just watching him touch himself

You’re probably going to help him finish bc he was now sexually frustrated and unable to cum on his own

[nthnstrky007]

Unit Alias #1: “The Flow of Water Breaks the Dame!”

As the bullets whizzed passed my head, only one thought stood out from all the noise and panic around me: I know I should have eaten toast instead of that bagel this morning. It’s just, I get so tired of the same old whole wheat toast and almond butter; it’s not my fault the fabric of reality starts to fold in on itself everytime I choose something new for breakfast. After another twenty seconds of some mindless brutes trying to turn my apartment into a modern artist’s tribute to swiss cheese, a voice of remote reason finally speaks up:

“Leonardo Crews, please step away from the bean bag chair”.

I can’t help but roll my eyes. It’s her: Sharon Winstead. The woman who would surely be my handler if the US government had their way and I became a secret agent or lab rat or whatever the heck they’d want me to do with these powers. I stand up and make a couple steps to the right as I put my hands on my head. At least the government sent a nice pair of legs to yell at me.  

One of the armed boneheads she brought with her speaks up, ‘Why would you hide behind a froggy bean bag chair?”

“Cause who the hell would ever shoot a froggy bean bag chair?” I challenge him and the two other armored doofuses.

They all mumble and meet eyes until one of them sheepishly says: “he’s right…” 

Sharon, the not so love-able stick in the mud that she is, won’t let me have fun for too long. “Your work here is done unit Alias. Go downstairs and do the usual routine with the landlord; come back, as I planned, when you’re done”. 

A couple ‘yes ma’ams’ and military mumbo jumbo is thrown around as they leave. I can’t help but feel sorry for guys who would willingly join an organization that has the loyalty of a teenage boy after a positive pregnancy test. 

“Real smart fellas you have there.”

Sharon looks at me, I guess with a hint of disappointment. “You know as well as I that if they were going for the kill, you’d be dead”. 

“Along with a couple billion realtites and, knowing how much the universe seems to adore me, time itself. And what’s up with ‘your plan’ anyway? The military never came in guns blazing before. Don’t you geniuses know how important I am?” 

“Are you threatening us now Leonardo?”

I relax my arms at my side as I walk into the pantry. The universe is on my team, as always, when I see one of the only undamaged things is what I’m looking for. I walk out in a sufficiently better mood with my packet of poptarts. “I’m just asking questions that pertain to the continuation of existence itself”. 

Sharon scoffs and continues on: “Do you understand the magnitude of such threats, Leonardo?”

 I wave her off with my free hand after opening my second breakfast. “ What threats? And please, it’s Leo; I’m not an award winning actor, just a potential destroyer of the timestream” I see the red emerge in her face and can’t help but chuckle. It's a mystery to me how she was able to secure one of the most secretive and ‘important’ jobs in the world with such a short fuse. Despite the fact that she is totally unlikable, the babe has grown on me over the years so I give her restless mind a break: “Y’know I’m not gonna go awol, especially when you pay for all my streaming service. And, uh, time wouldn’t be destroyed, just altered in some terrible heinous way. Such as your occupation being changed to stripper.” 

She gives me one more uneasy look before moving on. “You have a place I can sit?” 

“You mean a place you geniuses haven’t shot up yet? Don’t make me say it.”

“The frog chair?” She groans.

“I do believe it's pronounced froggy bean bag chair.” 

She gives her eyes another roll as she sits down in the thing. “Can you sit with me?” 

Sharon likes to remind me that in some ways I’m still a normal human. An example of 

this being a woman with a face and a body like hers asking me to sit down with a voice like hers using a tone like that,  regardless of if she is a facist pig or not, I’m probably gonna sit with her. 

“What’s the prob Bob?” I sit criss-cross applesauce a yard or so across from her. 

To my disappointment, not exactly my surprise, she grows serious as soon as I sit down. 

“We can’t keep doing this dance Leonardo.” 

“Doing what dance?” I let out the question with a bit of playful innocence.

“That.” She takes a moment to think before she begins her spill. “The U.W.O is not going to remain patient. The fate of existence potentially depends on what you have for lunch and you refuse to follow the guidelines that we give you. You probably can’t count how many times you’ve been told this, but you’re an anomaly. The only thing we have to go off of is my father’s theories: the regular flow of time is completely dependent on you. Every decision you make can drastically change our world’s past and half the time we can’t even detect those changes. Not to mention, if certain parts of that theory are true, the effects you can be having on our future. Leo, history is a book that you can rip up on an unknowing whim and the future is more uncertain that it has any right to be”. 

“And yet we keep dancing…”

“Excuse me?” 

I look at her for a second thinking that she for sures knows where I’m going, but it becomes clear to me she doesn’t. “You’re coming here to warn me. The U.W.O  knows that you’re the only person I can stand getting yelled at by so they send you here every time I decide to live my life so you can flutter your eyes and tell me not to. How many times have you been here this month? I admit the whole shoot-em-up bit is new, but other than that this is the same old routine we’ve done for the past year. The  only difference is I’ve been doing it my whole goddamn life and you’ve been doing it for a fraction of yours”. 

The woman actually cracks a smile as she comprehends what I’m saying. I don’t know if it’s mocking or understanding me, but, seeing as I have nothing else to do, I let her spill. “You call this living Leo? I don’t know what you do to mess up the timestream, but, judging by the hours of footage that features you exclusively watching ‘He-man’ reruns, I sure as hell know it’s not living. What, you played a new video game? Flushed the toilet too fast? You’re not living; the life you’re leading is not worth risking history for”. The sarcasm and aggression starts to leave her eyes as she looks at my face. I begin to open my mouth in defense when she shushes me with a new, almost maternal, attitude. “But I didn’t come here to play our twisted game of house. I’ve been in contact with my father”.

The news strikes a rare chord of hope in me. Sharon’s father was the closest thing I had to a dad when I grew up in the compound. He was also the one who convinced the board of directors to let me out when I turned eighteen. “Let out” is an odd way of saying letting me live in a heavily guarded cell that just happens to be in an apartment building. He ended up deciding he didn’t want to be a mindless puppet and left the U.W.O along with all his research. Last I heard, which was a very long time ago, he was up to a more scholarly pursuit. “How is he?”

She smiles as she thinks of her father. “He’s getting philosophical in his old age. After he left, he started living like a hermit in some remote island in the Atlantic. A place they’d have trouble finding if they ever were to look; he’s getting into some rebellious stuff there Leo. He wants you to leave and come see him. He wants to end this dance.”

“By ‘rebellious’, do you mean some dooms-day shit?” the words come out as the hope comes out of me. “We don’t know what the reaction will be if I get in a boat or plane. We barely know what’s gonna happen if I leave this building again. Make fun of me all you want, but, you basically said it yourself, 80s tv is the only life I can safely lead”.

“He told me to trust him. If he’s wrong, the situation will be no worse than it was before”. I could easily read the doubt in her face. “Or at least to him.”

“So what? The world ending is the same as the world not ending? Existence is all a lie and it doesn’t matter anyway? Don’t tell me he’s become some quasi-intellectual pothead who posts on psychedelic-themed online forums.” 

She rolls her eyes in response to my joke. “He’s disillusioned with our current world authority. He lived his whole thinking a plantery world order would be a good thing, so much so he helped to achieve it. Apparently after all those years and work, he thinks their practices are going to end us all. The way he sees it, the world may just end tomorrow; it’s any day now to him. In a certain manner of words, he’s desperate.”   

“And you?” 

She gives me another genuine look. “I trust my father as a leader and I care about you. He believes it's the right thing to do and you can’t keep up like this. Some of the things I’ve had to do this past year is enough for me to give up on doing the right thing through the government. Your problem is a problem that we might be able to fix on our own and trying is a lot better than you just rotting here waiting to die. Any ‘director’ who doesn’t like that can screw off.”

I let my eyes widen. “No one’s in on this? Why’d you bring the unit with you? Surely the bigwigs wire you up before you take their dogs for a walk?” 

“Watch your words; dogs we are no more, unit Alias, at least, is on this. No wires or strings attached. The general consensus is the current plan of keeping the world safe from you is eventually going to collapse without change; I can’t say they have the personal stake that my father has with the way he views us as siblings”.   

“Can’t really blame them for being worried or not particularly liking me, but they’re not here because of  what happened because of my bagel?” 

“What?”

“You came here to break me out, not to punish me for eating a bagel instead of toast?”

Sharon pulls a phone out of her pocket and scrolls through. “Oh…”

“What?”

“The ephilfel tower was built in Germany”.