#MAY WE ALL LIVE AFTER ROW

[saintedbythestorm]

Well at least I managed to do a proper brushing of my teeth today and tortured myself with some dental floss while I was at it too.

[rebeccccccaaa]

Poker Face!

_______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: It’s game night at Rossi’s, a little pasta al dente, poker chips from Emily’s place, and a little too much Italian red wine. Poker after hours becomes a new playing field when you and Spencer decide to finish your game of blackjack back in his place. ::

:: warnings :: smuttt! and super mushy gushy fluff, sex under the influence (both parties drank alcohol), strip poker (kinda you’re playing blackjack), afab!reader, no mention of contraceptives oops...

:: authors’ notes :: i didn’t realize until i finished the story that spencer probably has his own poker set, he’s literally from vegas; anyway thanks for all the love on my last fic too sweet, hope you guys enjoy this one just as much <3

WC~ 3.1 k

________________

“Ok, ok! That’s enough!” Emily shouted, swinging her glass around. 

“Careful, Prentiss. This carpet is fine Italian wool. Gifted from my first mother-in-law,” Rossi scolded, Hotch chuckling beside him. 

“You guys are relentless,” she continued.

“I can beat him, I know it!” you shouted, your eyes comically wide. 

“No shot, sweetheart. Reid is literally banned from every casino in Vegas, you think you can really beat him?” Derek commented.

“I may not be banned from Vegas casinos, but I never lose Blackjack,” you argued.

“Honey, you’ve lost eight games in a row!” JJ shouted, laughing and holding her stomach. 

“Nevermind that! I’m gonna beat you Reid, if it's the last thing I do,” you narrowed your eyes playfully at Spencer, who sat as dealer with a giant grin on his face.

“I hate to interrupt this incredibly captivating game of Blackjack, but I’m kicking you out. It's late and an old man’s got to get some rest,” Rossi interrupted, erupting a series of ‘Boo’s’ and groans. 

“Come on, come on. Call your DD’s, call your taxi cabs. Or if you want to stay, you can start washing the dishes,” he bargained. 

Suddenly, all at once, everyone stood up practically scrambling and giggling like kids to avoid cleaning up. Penelope, Emily, and Derek hopped into a cab and Hotch drove JJ home then himself considering he hadn't anything to drink that night. That left you and Spencer, lingering on the sidewalk nudging each other in a fit of giggles. 

“I assume you’re gonna take a cab?” he asked you.

“That’s the plan.”

“So we can share since I don’t live far from you. I’ll walk from your place,” he suggested. 

“Oh no, no. Look what I snatched when everyone started leaving,” you pulled out the briefcase of poker chips that Emily had brought for that night out of your tote, “We’re going to your place and finishing what we started.” 

“Oh boy, you have no idea how long it's gonna take. We’re gonna be up all night!” Spencer laughed, and you gasped. 

“You’re an asshole,” you shoved him, before calling a taxi.

You squeezed in the back of the cab, legs bumping against each other. You felt your skin light up, you’ve always felt a certain way about Spencer. I mean who wouldn’t? Well actually, not a lot of people. You always tried to hide the pangs of jealousy or your faces of reluctance whenever the women you were working with or interviewed on cases would flirt with him, unnecessarily albeit. This happened more often than you care to admit or notice. 

You walked into Spencer’s apartment, tossing your bag on the couch before falling to your knees and putting the briefcase on his coffee table. You opened it up and began shuffling the cards, quite intensely to make sure Spencer wasn’t going to cheat. You knew he wasn’t, his brain was too smart, but you did it for confidence instead. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asked from the kitchen.

“Whatcha you got?” you asked.

“I’ve got a couple of beers, probably a little old. Oh, I still have the bottle of wine that Rossi gave to us for the new year,” he told you.

“Oh! Bring the wine! We’ll drink the beers later,” you winked at him, “Let’s get the fucking party started.”

It was late into the night now. You lost count how many times you’d lost to Spencer already. Just a couple of hours passed, and the wine was almost finished. You and Spencer couldn’t stop laughing and wiggling around. As Spencer shuffled the deck, a request you made him do after every turn, you came up with a devilish idea. One that would definitely get you in trouble should the outcome be anything other than what you would hope. 

“Ooh,” you cooed, mischievously.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

��Oh, nothing, just had an idea,” you were smirking, or rather trying really hard not to burst into laughter. 

“This can’t be good,” he mumbled, shaking his head. 

“Why don’t we spice things up, shall we?”

“No, no way,” Spencer already knew what you were going to say. 

“Strip Poker!” 

“No!” he shouted, a big smile on his face contradicting his words.

“What, you scared? Scared that suddenly I’m starting to beat you and you’re gonna have to take all your clothes off?” you teased.

“No, I am a gentleman and I’m not gonna sit through watching you take all your clothes to prove a point,” he argued sassily.

“You are way too confident for your own good, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re just chicken.”

“Ok, fine then. You dealer, or am I?” he asked, pouring the last bit of wine into your cup. 

“Why don’t you hit me this time,” you said. 

“You got it,” he responded, “Care to shuffle while I grab the beers?”

“Of course. About time we crack those open,” you smiled widely. 

Now sitting down, face to face. Staring intensely at each other for a moment, hints of mischief and amusement in both your eyes. As you shuffled the cards well, Spencer couldn’t help notice the way your eyes were practically sparkling in the warm light of his apartment. How soft your skin looked in the light too. He doesn’t know when it happened. If it happened just now, or maybe he’s always felt this way about you. 

Maybe it was those times where he felt a little more protective over you than the others on more brutal cases. The feeling of responsibility for you, to guide you, when you first join the team since you were the same age. Or maybe it was when you let him practically talk your ear off about peculiar facts regarding the case you had wrapped up. The small smile of your face knowing he thrived in these moments. The sweet giggle you let out when Morgan and Prentiss groaned knowing he would begin yet another tangent. 

Yeah, it was definitely then he realized how special you were and how much he wanted to keep you in his life; in more ways than one.

But in this moment, when you handed him the cards with the most devilish smirk on your face, Spencer felt a wave of avidity, longing for you more than he ever has before. He felt so conflicted about the game you were about to play. He respected you so much and yet craved to see you, to have you, in this very way for so long already. He didn’t know what to do. He dealt the cards however, entertaining the idea, and you tapped the table for cards before taking a big swig of your beer.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, Spencer’s breath hitched. 

You took off your earrings first and Spencer quirked an eyebrow. 

“What? Were you expecting me to take off my shirt right away?”

“No,” he shrugged before giving you the deck to shuffle again. 

“I swear to-” you cursed, pulling off one of your rings this time.

Your shoes came off, then your socks. All your accessories were scattered on the table before you. The last game you stood up unbuttoning your pants. Spencer clenched his jaw, averting his eyes downward as you peeled your pants down your legs. It took quite literally everything in him to not drool over you. You sank back down to the ground, the bottom half of your body shielded by the table and Spencer looked back at you again. He dealt the cards. You asked for a card, and Spencer knew then you would lose. The probability was certain. When he hit Blackjack and you didn’t, Spencer gulped and you sighed in defeat. 

Staring boldly at Spencer, you disrobed your last garment that would give you some kind of modesty. Your bra is on full display with nothing else but your pair of underwear. You had a crucial decision to make if you ended up losing again and you were seriously considering that would be the case, the butterflies erupting violently in your belly. 

“We don’t have to keep going,” Spencer cleared his throat.

“And why would I do that?” Maybe it was the alcohol in your system that gave you this sudden courage, this seduction. You were starting to have fun seeing Spencer squirming on the couch, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple. You suddenly wanted to egg this round on as long as you can. 

“Ok, then,” he muttered, as he dealt the cards, slowly this time.

Spencer had a face down card, assuming it was a value of ten like always, and an eight. You had a seven and a three, you were fucked. You needed an ace and you’d hit blackjack, or you could build up; but that’s risky. Maybe Spencer can go over. You had a chance, you know it. Your chest was moving fast and shallow, but your face was stoic and firm. Spencer on the other hand was antsy; his eyes frantic and his leg bouncing. You knew he was staring at your chest. You planned to use it to your advantage. Was it fair game? Yeah, yeah it was. It wasn’t your fault he was distracted.

“Hit me,” you egged.

“You got it,” he responded. 

A five. Fuck. 

Spencer hit himself and he drew a seven. Those are bad cards. He most likely went over and you might actually finally beat him. 

“One more time, boy wonder,” you snapped. A six. A beautiful six of hearts. 

“I stand,” he mutters, probably knowing he lost. 

“Let’s see those cards, baby,” you teased.

“You first,” he told you, and placed your cards. 

“Blackjack, baby!” 

Spencer laid his cards revealing his seven and eight and underneath a nine, he busted; the cards of course. You won, you finally won. You jumped up in celebration, prancing in your undergarments around the room giggling and cheering. 

“I did it! I fucking did it! I beat the boy genius, fair and fucking square! You lose Spencer, loser!” you shouted taunting him and he couldn’t help the smile painted in his blushing face; he almost forgot you were prancing around almost naked in the middle of his apartment. 

“I- I was distracted,” he shuttered. 

“Damn right you were,” you joked, squeezing your breasts to flaunt them in his face. 

“It wasn’t fair game,” he bantered.

“It wasn’t fair game, my ass. I won and you lost, and you’re being a sore loser,” you mocked as you walked towards him like a panther, playfulness and seduction dripping from your tongue. 

Spencer took the moment you walked near and grabbed your wrist yanking you to stumble into his lap. You were shocked, surprised, a little turned on. You held onto his shoulders, your breathing a little quicker than before. You tried to convince yourself it was from the celebratory dance and not the growing bulge from Spencer that poked you from beneath. 

“I told you, I was distracted,” he told you, his hands finding a place at their hips. Fingers caressing delicately the hem of your underwear. 

“Blah, blah,” you whispered.

“Don’t give me that.”

“Now, Spence, I believe there is something you have to do, is there not?” you whispered.

“What’s that?” he bantered.

“You lost.”

“Right, unfairly I might add,” he joked.

“If all you’re gonna do is talk, then let me do the honors,” you told him. 

“Be my guest.”

Your fingers pulled gently at his tie he wore, pulling over his head and tossing it to the side on the floor. You started unbuttoning his shirt, Spencer staring with heavy eyes at you as you did so.

“I thought we were only taking off one item. We should play another round then if you want my shirt off,” he teased you, bringing his hands to gently hold your wrists.

“Like that’s gonna happen,” you rolled your eyes playfully. 

Spencer relaxed against the back of the couch as you unbutton his shirt all the way. You brought your lips down to kiss softly at his collarbones and his shoulder. Moving along his chest to kiss the other side. His hands moved slowly against your hips, fingers sliding between the fabric of your underwear and your skin. Your skin erupted in chills, a tingle running through your spine making your ears feel hot. You dragged your nose along his strong jawline before nipping your teeth playfully against his cheek. 

He brought his hands up, fingertips tracing your spine until he reached your bra. He skillfully unhooked it leaving you a bit breathless for just a second but a second too long. You could feel it, without even needing to look at him, to know he had such a teasing smile on his gorgeous face. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off him. 

You shrugged your bra off, tossing behind him giving him a playful wink which made him chuckle. You brought his hands to your breasts as you pulled his head towards you by the back of his neck to kiss him feverishly. Something you both had wanted to do for quite some time now. You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling the prodding against your center, which made Spencer groan lowly in the kiss; his hands squeezing your breasts hard in discomfort. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna drive me insane,” he told you.

“Let me say hi to your little friend, Spence. Or do you want to play for that too?” you taunted him.

“God, no. I couldn’t wait a whole other hour for you to beat me again,” he bantered making you scoff and roll your eyes; his hands shot straight to his zipper to pull his pants down just enough for the both of you. 

You were practically itching to get your panties off. Standing up suddenly, both you and Spencer reached instinctively to pull them off you, his lips attaching themselves to your soft belly and hips. He freed himself from the constricting fabric of his pants and pulled you down, or rather yanked you to him. You couldn’t help the bubbly laugh that came from you making Spencer smile blissfully. 

You bite your lip as you reach between your bodies, lining Spencer up against you perfectly. The warmth radiating from you was driving him crazy. It took everything in him to not suddenly take control and rut his hips against you. You sank slowly down on his length, not so little, you thought yourself.

“Oh jeez, I feel like I could come already,” you gasped, the pressure building in the pit of your stomach felt already overwhelming. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t had sex in years. You felt starved of this kind of touch, this kind of intimacy. The kind of feeling of Spencer’s cold fingertips touching and gliding across your skin like you were glass. Yeah, that was the feeling you didn’t know you needed, you didn’t realize you craved so much until this very moment. 

“I’m a bit embarrassed to admit the same,” he chuckled breathlessly, “If you don’t start moving, I’m not gonna be able to hold myself back any longer.”

You took this as the green light to start rocking your hips back and forth. One hand resting against his cheek and the other stabilizing yourself against the frame of the couch. Spencer’s hands rocked with you, his way of helping and understanding the rhythm you were going. He started, with gaining confidence, to buck his hips into you and that’s when the pleasure began to build. You panted heavily above him, moans every now and then escaping your mouth to echo against the walls of Spencer’s small apartment. 

“Shit. You feel so good,” he breathed out, “I thought I’d last longer.”

“Please, please don’t come yet,” you begged; bringing your forehead to his. You could see his skin becoming shiny with sweat, his cheeks flush with redness. Spencer, determined to make you come before him, or at the very least with him, reached between your thighs rubbing fast and swift circles against your clit. Your hips jerked with pleasure and Spencer’s name dripped from your lips like honey. 

“Oh, that’s it,” Spencer whispered. His free hand came up and pulled you in a passionate and sloppy kiss. His tongue entwined with your and you moaned wildly as did he. His brain was fuzzy, not that your’s wasn’t also, with the sounds of sex, the rhythm of your hips, the warmth of your slick soaking his fingers. 

“I’m close, fuck I’m so close, Spence,” you whined.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

“Ngh!” you moaned loudly. You dipped your head forward resting your forehead in the crook of his neck. Your bodies were so close, your bare chests pressed against each other. You both could feel the other’s breath and slowly you began to match each other’s erratic rhythm the closer you got to your climaxes. You messily pressed your lips against Spencer’s one last time before the wave of electrifying pleasure overcame you. 

When you came down from your high, all you could feel and hear in that moment was Spencer. His soft pants brushing your ear, his arms cradling you close, his subtle leg shaking from what you assume was him also coming with you. 

“That was really good,” you giggled.

“It really was,” he agreed.

“I’m gonna tell everyone about this,” you whispered wickedly. 

“What?” Spencer questioned fearfully. 

“I beat you in Blackjack,” you reminded him, making him laugh loudly. 

“Give it a rest you would?” he sighed. 

“No way. I’m gonna tell everyone. And everyone’s gonna tease you because I beat you fair and square. Unless, you wanna admit that my boobs were distracting you from your card counting tricks,” you teased.

“Alright, you won fair and square,” he smiled blissfully at you, his eyes soft and gentle in the warm light.

You giggled sweetly bringing him in a tender kiss, definitely not for the last time that night. Your bodies were entwined for the rest of the night until the tepid sunrays peaked meekly through the curtains of Spencer’s bedroom window. The two of you sharing giggles between the sheets with his arms embracing you the way they had been all night. Needless to say, blackjack continues to be your favorite poker game. Especially now more than ever. 

[milky-aeons]

'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and fyodor dostoevsky; what they would be like on their wedding day.

warnings: marriage, swearing, alcohol-intake, wife reader, w.c 3.5k

ᯓ★𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔

: ̗̀➛ Dazai, who never really acted like a conventional human being, also did not propose like one, either. After dating the enigmatic Armed Detective Agent for, by then, two years, you did not expect him to get down on one knee and produce a beautiful ring, like you had seen in the movies. But you also did not expect him to drop the question like it was a frivolous thing one random Tuesday evening while you both shared a drink at your favourite late-night bar.

Blinking, your glass frozen mid-way to your lips, you turned to him and said, "What did you... just say?" That mischievous smile you were so quick to fall for flashed across his face. "I said, why don't we get married, hmm~?"

: ̗̀➛ There was no other answer in your mind, your heart, than a resounding yes. For he was the thorn in your side as much as he was your other half. Through the whirlwind of months following, you found it hard to discern where one day ended and the next began. Time bled together until you didn't have nearly enough of it, and the day of the ceremony was here. It was a casual affair not bound too tightly by tradition. By the help of the agents, an old, abandoned manor sitting by the riverside had been fashioned into your very own cathedral.

: ̗̀➛ Yosano Akiko fussed over your dress, your hair, your makeup — to a point where you thought she was having way too much fun. And yet, she left no stones unturned, either. As you walked in through the building decorated with bouquets of flowers and rows upon rows of familiar faces, she hooked her arm into yours and walked by your side. Using Thou Shalt Not Die, the doctor instructed fluttering, iridescent butterflies to sit against your dress and your veil, the cornet of your hair, any place she could in order to make you glow.

: ̗̀➛ He stood to his towering height at the alter with his back turned to you in an immaculate suit of white. And when he spun to face you, you fell in love for a second time — with his brunet hair tucked behind his ear, the blue rose pinned to his suit lapel and his eyes; how they watched you. With a type of stunned disbelief that melted into adoration. When you came to stand by his side in front of the pastor, his hand reached down to twine with your fingers, and he whispered;

"You — are absolutely breath-taking."

: ̗̀➛ Kyouka Izumi played the role of ring-bearer, delivering a small white pillow with the two shining bands once it was time to say your vows. Dazai reached out tenderly, slowly, as if to preserve this moment for as long as he could, and lifted the veil from your face. His eyes shuttered. He reached for your hand and slid the smaller band onto your finger, his eyes downcast, his voice low and intimate.

"Through you I have found what it means to love, what it is to feel human, and while I am by your side — I endeavour to protect and earn that title. For as long as I shall live, I am yours. My soul, my name, they are all yours."

: ̗̀➛ As the ceremony reached its closure, when you had both been bound to each other in heart and in soul, Dazai could not wait another moment before he could reach for you. As soon as the words you may kiss the bride left the pastor's lips, Dazai had looped his arms around your waist and bent you back into a dramatic dip. Cheers and claps filled the riverside chapel, you smiled widely against his lips, expecting nothing less of him. Your soulmate. Your husband. Your Osamu, who's name you brandished as your own.

𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 . . .

"Kunikida-kun~!" Dazai's loud voice, a little accentuated with alcohol, swam over the crowd. "Play the thing we talked about!"

Curious, your head turned to the sounds of footsteps shuffling onto the dancefloor illuminated by pale spotlights. The afterparty was in full swing, you had been flanked by a group of well-wishing women when your husband's voice reached your ears. Each of you observed as Dazai, alongside Kunikida, Junichirou, Atsushi and little Kenji took centre stage. Excited murmurs fluttered through the throng.

"What on earth are they doing?" You wondered, and then the starting notes to All The Single Ladies began blaring from the party speakers. Your mouth dropped. Every single one of the Armed Detective Agents began to move in unison to the beat of the music.

And for the third time, you fell in love with him, again. Expecting that there would be many more to come.

ᯓ★𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎

: ̗̀➛ Kunikida Doppo, who, at first, had not planned to marry you. After all, you only met twenty out of his proposed fifty-eight requirements that made the perfect wife. That was the thing about your relationship, however — you had come into the agent's life unplanned, uninvited, and turned every one of his rigid ideals up on their heads.

: ̗̀➛ Yet it was only telling of the Idealist and his old habits, how Kunikida went about asking for your hand in marriage. It had been early on a weekday afternoon when he had called you into one of the private meeting rooms of the Agency's office. He'd pushed his glasses up the strong bridge of his nose and laid out his terms. He'd even written a business contract for you to sign. The page had gone flying in the air when you had tackled him from across the table. Smattering a thousand kisses against his blushing, flustered face and breathing the words yes, yes, you silly man, yes!

: ̗̀➛ To concur with both your family's wishes and his own, a traditional wedding was set in motion. Kunikida Doppo was always a man to abide by rules and regulations, but it had occurred to you that perhaps he was taking this affair a little too seriously. For your parents, he gifted them the very traditional shiraga thread. During the sake ceremony, the blond sat ramrod straight, moving mechanically to take sips from the three cups. One for past, one for present, and one for your future. Together.

: ̗̀➛ He was so serious, in fact, that you had become nervous on the morning of your wedding — your most beloved of friends helping you into your garments, trying to soothe your thoughts. What if he doesn't want to marry me? You would whisper as they fashioned your hair up. What if I've forced him into this, what if he's unhappy? To one of your many anxieties, your friend had met your eyes in the mirror, and smiled.

"Oh, honey," She chuckled, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. "You should see the way that man looks at you."

: ̗̀➛ Her words played in your mind as the traditional music was strung during your procession to meet him. The black colours he donned made his long ponytail appear golden, his body strong, his face even more handsome. As he watched you come down the shrine walkway to be by his side, the blond reached up with one hand to push his glasses away and covered his eyes. It had taken you a few months after to realise that in that moment, Kunikida Doppo had shed a tear.

: ̗̀➛ It was not tradition for vows to be spoken, and yet Kunikida asked to say a few words as the ceremony drew to a close. You watched him carefully as he picked up the microphone, curious at the intentions he had. It was in that moment that your newly wed husband faced the crowd and brought the mic to his lips.

"First, I would like to thank you all for gracing our marriage with both your presence and your blessings. It is something we will see not to squander." "Second, I would like to say some thoughts of mine, if you would all be so inclined. Marriage, to me, was initially an agreement of convenience. I had the perfect woman laid out seamlessly. And in my wife that stands with me today, I say that she is not that perfect woman I so wished to find. But she is everything more. She is my best friend, she is my support, she is the person I go to sleep thinking of and wake up searching for. To me, she is my home, and I will take care of her fiercely."

: ̗̀➛ At your small reception, Kunikida was stolen away from you by some affiliates of the Armed Detective Agency and had his sake cup topped up one too many times. He found you afterwards, and proclaimed both his love and adoration for his newly-betrothed to everyone and anyone that was within a five mile radius.

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . . .

"Come here," You whispered to him, now in the comfort of your own apartment walls. A considerably uncoordinated Kunikida was struggling out of his Haorihimo, cursing in drunken slurs and promises of retribution to the small sliver of fabric.

Your fingers eased the cloth out from underneath his arms and you began to loosen the knot. Your husband was staring up at you from behind his crooked glasses. He swayed a little, and you stood in front of him, ready to support him if he went toppling forward off the bed.

But then, two strong, solid arms came up to the small of your back and he crushed you against him. Burying his head into your chest, he murmured;

"From the very first day I met you... I loved you. D'ya know that?"

Your heart grew tiny wings in your chest and began to sore. Smiling, you reached up, carding your fingers through his blond locks and undoing the tight ponytail.

"The first day you met me, you told me I was inefficient and lazy, my dear husband." You mused.

He grunted. "Same... thing."

ᯓ★𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

: ̗̀➛ Your relationship with Atsushi was one that blossomed slow and tenderly. It was a natural progression, after three years of happy dating, for the agent to ask you to marry him. Everything Atsushi Nakajima did in regards to showing his affection for you was always timid and reserved — you never expected it; the elaborate surprise he had waiting in store for you that morning you came into the Agency's offices just like you always did.

: ̗̀➛ Well, perhaps he had a little help from the other agents, for the office was barren when you entered. Your eyebrows had creased at the very uncharacteristic quiet of the usually chaotic area you worked in. You had checked the time, wondering if you had showed up a little too early on accident. But then, there was a voice — the voice of agent Dazai Osamu, shouting at you to come to the nearest window and to do so urgently—!

Each of the agents stood at the sidewalk, all holding up a sign with different characters that made up a whole sentence. A question. And Atsushi — your sweet, kind, caring Atsushi, was perched in the middle, the biggest bouquet of roses in his sheepish hands. Will you marry me?

: ̗̀➛ Both you and Atsushi decide to get married somewhere far removed from the city skyline of Yokohama. You wanted somewhere special to remember this day, and perhaps, the great outdoors and stretching greens spoke to Atsushi's beastly side a little more, too. So you chose the heart of a nearby woodland where a great, ancient willow tree served as your alter.

: ̗̀➛ Atsushi wore a suit of sky-blue. You wore a simple slip dress decorated with accents of lace and flowers, Kenji had twined some wildflowers into your hair. The fauna of the forest acted as your choir when you walked down the small trail of brambles to your soon-to-be husband who waited at the base of the winding trunk.

: ̗̀➛ The reception was held in a greenhouse funded by the Agency's private books — you and Atsushi were members, after all, so Kunikida took a little less persuading than usual to move his ledgers around. For lunch, you served chazuke, and when you took the first dance, Atsushi's eyes appeared more gold than they were violet as they looked at you so lovingly the whole time.

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 . . .

"Atsushi, they'll notice that we're gone." You giggled, bunching your dress up so you could step over the little bush of thickets. When you both reached the winding roots of the willow tree you promised yourselves to each other underneath, Atsushi transformed his arms and legs into their tiger equivalents.

"Dazai-san said he'd keep everyone entertained." He whispered, and then stepped forward to wrap his soft arms around you. "Are you ready?"

"It may be a little late for second thoughts." You teased, but looped your arms around his slender neck and relaxed into his hold. The new golden band on your finger glinted in the moonlight.

And using that tiger-strength, Atsushi dug his claws into the ancient tree bark and began to climb. Higher and higher until you both broke through the canopy cover and could look to the millions of stars winking at you overhead.

"Oh, Atsushi." You breathed in awe, taking in the wonders above. "Oh, it's beautiful."

Your husband nuzzled into your hair and whispered, "Each one represents all the lifetimes I'd still find and fall in love with you in."

ᯓ★𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

: ̗̀➛ It had initially been you and your General lover's plan to keep your engagement quiet and have a small affair away from town. Just the two of you, because Chuuya thought some of his colleagues were insufferable pains in his ass, and all hell would break loose if they were to figure out they had a wedding plan on their hands. It was, however, unfortunate, that you two had been discussing what type of ceremony you'd like to have when Hirotsu was just about to turn one of the corners. It took exactly one hour for the entire Port Mafia to know. Two for it to reach the Armed Detective Agency.

: ̗̀➛ It was no longer a personal affair. This wedding became a spectacle within the Mafia's ranks. From the lowest levels all the way to the boss himself, everyone was abuzz with ideas and anticipation, excited that one of their top brass was getting married and they could all take advantage of the time off to have a grand party. Chuuya threatened to resign several times, you always laughed at how excited the entire criminal organisation became at the prospect of celebration.

: ̗̀➛ True to the boss' word, you and Chuuya's wedding was held in one of the grandest churches Yokohama had to offer — having mysteriously skipped the two year waiting list. The building was laved in gold and stain glass windows. Chuuya wore a fine suit of blood-red and a black tie that contrasted with his wild curls, his hard blue eyes. But when they saw you come down the aisle, they softened, and when he said his vows to you, you never thought anyone would look at you with such adoration ever again.

: ̗̀➛ The main event was held in the bowels of the Port Mafia — one of the largest show-rooms this organisation had to offer, with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings and a private band playing any songs they were requested. Chuuya, for the majority of your reception, could not seem to keep his hands off of you. If you were not by his hip, his eyes would instantly go searching for you within the throng of party-goers. When he did find you, he would place a hand to the small of your back, he'd lean in to kiss you and say;

"There you are, my wife."

: ̗̀➛ There was another reason as to why Chuuya Nakahara was originally so hellbent on taking your wedding somewhere more quiet and peaceful. And it came in the form of a brunet ex-partner waltzing into the organisation's party, a broad simper on his infuriating face. Dazai Osamu took your hand and kissed the back of it, extending his deepest sympathies and that if you ever needed to blow off steam, he could give you his number.

: ̗̀➛ The Port Mafia ballroom had originally started off with three grand chandeliers. After Dazai had purred those taunting words, there was then, only two.

: ̗̀➛ After the many shards had been swept from the floor by a cleaning crew, the private band struck an up-beat quartet. Both you and your newly-wed husband took to the floor for the first dance. Chuuya's hand splayed protectively against your back, his other gloved palm slotting into yours and guiding you to twirl, skip, spin.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 . . .

"Shit, sorry." He grumbled when your foreheads were touching, the proximity sending his breath fanning across your cheeks. His pointy canines were jutting against his bottom lip. "That motherfucker — he just makes me see red."

"Hey, it's okay." You said, catching his eyes. "Because I love you. You, Nakahara. I am all yours and no one else's."

Those words touched something deep within this man's chest. Of course, the proof that you were his sat in the form of two stacked rings on your left hand, but to hear it. To look into your beautiful eyes and see the amount of love there.

He surprised you by reaching down to your hips and lifting you up, twirling you around, around, around.

"And I'm forever yours, babydoll."

ᯓ★𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘

: ̗̀➛ The initial letter you received from Fyodor asking for your hand in marriage — originally, you believed it to be fake. A shallow joke from someone who knew of you and the mastermind's occasional on-and-off relationship whenever he returned to your homeland. But as you traced the delicate loops of the handwriting that looked so much like his own, in the intimate moonlight beams of late night — you'd let yourself imagine. Hope. Only for it to swell and dwindle like ashes of a flame. Because there was just no way he would ask to marry you. That he would marry, at all.

: ̗̀➛ It was fitting then; how palpable your shock was when the slender, pale man you had accidentally fallen in love with — like a fool — was standing on the other side of your door that early morning. You had blinked hard, rubbed your eyes, wondered if you were weary from too many sleepless nights. When the stars had cleared from your vision, he was still there. An amused little smile stretched against his lips.

"So? Are you ready to get married?" You stared at him. And stared. And then dropped your morning cup of coffee onto the tiles of your hallway.

: ̗̀➛ At the news of your sudden betrothal, your family were both elated with a healthy dose of scepticism. Who is this man you are intending to marry, they fluttered around you with questions when you broke the news. Fyodor? I've never heard you speak of him, why do you intend to marry this man, girl? At that, you had smiled, not bothering to hide the small heat of blush on your ears, and murmured;

"Because he's a thief, and he stole my heart a very long time ago."

: ̗̀➛ The wedding was held in an old cathedral of gothic architecture. You don't think you've ever seen Fyodor look so refined; standing there in his simple suit of stone-grey with a black shirt. He had his hair tucked behind his ears, his eyebags were a little less pronounced, his skin brighter — but perhaps that was just the early-morning light. When you stood before your husband to-be and handed your heart over to him, for him, there was a shift in his eyes. You could not explain it, but you knew it ran deep. You knew that in his own way, he was also handing himself over to you. And you would accept all of him, just like you accepted his name.

: ̗̀➛ Much to the dismay of your family, you did not hold a wedding reception after the ceremony, but that was only because Fyodor decided to walk with you through the freezing streets of Moscow. He held your hand, and even though on many nights where you lay together he was stone-cold, today, he felt warm.

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

"Fyodor?"

"Hmm?" He answered, noticing the sheepish tone in your voice. You looked up at him with those big doe eyes.

"Why did you ask to marry me?"

Fyodor held your gaze for a long, pregnant second. It was at that moment that a single flake of snow fluttered down from the grey sky and landed on his immaculate suit. Then another. Each one the same colour as your dress, each one different to the rest.

Fyodor held out his hand to catch them. "Why does the snow fall? Because it is natural. It is meant to be. I married you because it is the way I wish to fall. With you, by my side."

✎ . . . requested by the lovely @cocodrilofeliz!

WRITING REQUESTS

[urfavleo777]

joost klein x fem!oc smut

warnings: fingering, language.

The club near the beach seemed to be a favorite attraction for tourists.

After midnight, every corner was bustling with life, people were constantly smiling and exchanging long discussions at the tables. There was no room for lack of alcohol; every table was decorated with at least one bottle of wine or, in crazy cases, vodka. The music playing in the background pushed guests towards the dance floor, where they danced to the rhythm of fast songs.

“It's only our third day and we have already made this place our tradition.” My friend Lena exclaimed, accidentally spilling her glass of vodka. “Fuck! I knew everything was going too well!”

Amber and I burst into laughter as we watched our friend make sloppy movements to wash away the stinking liquid. Amber was really beautiful. She had large, almost black eyes. Quite strong makeup emphasized her delicate facial features and full lips.

We met her on the first day of our trip in the Netherlands. We bumped into each other while looking for a hotel in Noordwijk; or rather, we were saved by her. The taxi dropped me and Lena off at a remote location, both of our phones were dead, so we didn't know how to get to the hotel. The fact that it was only a few minutes after midnight didn't help at all. I remember thinking we would be stuck there forever.

Fortunately, we found Amber on a dark street where she was returning from work. She calmed us down and helped us find our way. We thanked her, she wrote her phone number on a piece of paper and the next day she took us here; to a lively beachside pub. We've been coming here every night since then.

“Come on, I'll help you wash it off. It's a waste of such a pretty dress.” She said calmly, standing up and leading Lena towards the door marked with a triangle symbol. Lena's crimson lips curved into a slight smile and she looked at me, her look instantly revealing her shock and nervousness. Oh, I knew exactly how Lena felt about Amber. She told me that the day after we met, they exchanged messages. I often caught her smiling at the phone, but out of respect for them, I chose to act as if I knew nothing.

“We'll be right back, Y/n. Maybe you'll find yourself a nice gentleman who will make your evening even more pleasant!” A smirk appeared on Lena's face. I rolled my eyes, hiding my amusement.

“Have fun and don’t get lost this time!” Amber called after me and giggled.

“Maybe you'd better not come back!” I stuck my tongue out at them in a mocking way.The girls gave me the middle finger before the door finally closed.

I sighed, taking a sip of vodka, washing it down with Pepsi. I felt the vibrations on my body, despite my fatigue I felt the call of the music. There was a smell of alcohol in the air and the smell of smoke released from time to time from under the DJ console. 

After one glass of alcohol in a row, I stopped feeling tired. A dance floor full of dancing people seemed damn tempting. The thumping bass and catchy beats effectively encouraged me to devote myself to the music. 

Seconds and minutes passed and the girls didn't come back. White light flashed from the ceiling from time to time, blinding for a second. I squinted a bit and checked the time on my phone. 01:01 AM.

Suddenly I felt someone's eyes on me. This may sound funny because, hey, I was just in a crowded club, it's normal for people to look at each other. But this was different, I felt frustrated when someone was staring at me and I didn't even know who.

I looked up from my phone and then I saw him.  A few tables in front of me, a man sat alone, sipping a drink. His blond hair was messy and disheveled, and he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses. Something moved strangely inside me when our eyes met. He gave me a brave smirk that it sent shivers down my spine.

When he realized that I had exposed him, he took off his glasses and put them on the table. However, he was too far away for me to get a good look at his facial features. I noticed that he was holding a cigarette in the fingers of his right hand. He took a drag of it, watching me in concentration. Is smoking even allowed in clubs?

Girl, you're in the Netherlands. I reminded myself.

“Y/n!” I heard someone shouting my name as I turned back and saw Amber and Lena running towards me. When they both took their seats, I had a perfect view of their rosy cheeks, uneven breathing and the abashed glances they were sending to each other. I suppressed a smile with a clear throat. “I'm sorry you had to wait so long. Lena got her dress so dirty that we had to take it all off to clean it.”

Why is everybody having sex except me?

“Oh, I can certainly imagine that. Actually, I’m tired of sitting in one place all the time. How about hitting the dance floor?”

“Finally! I thought you'd never ask!” Lena squealed, grabbing both of our hands.

About half a minute later we were in a different state of consciousness. The colorful spotlights seemed brighter and the music seemed louder. We were jumping to the rhythm of some electronic song, shouting its lyrics to each other. The song was in a foreign language and it was the first time I heard it, so Amber was probably the only one in our group who sang the lyrics correctly. My legs were burning with fire. It's been a long time since I spent such a long time on the dance floor dancing non-stop, but I enjoyed it. 

Now I was much closer to the table of the man who was staring at me with incredible passion.

I looked at him again, and when we made eye contact, he winked at me. The stranger, dressed in black jeans and a gray hoodie, stared at me with an unreadable expression, blonde hair falling across his forehead. I didn't even know his name, but everything about him was suddenly stirring something inside me. His blonde hair. High cheek bones. His mustache. The tattoos on his hands. His smile too. It was something I couldn't look away from. As if I'd seen him somewhere before, but couldn’t recall where.

When “Careless whisper” started playing and Amber and Lena started to get closer to each other, I decided to leave them alone.

I gave a thumbs up to give Lena courage. She smiled shyly and placed her hands on Amber's waist. I apologized to the people around me and left the dance floor, heading outside. I needed to get some fresh air, and more specifically, listen to the sound of the sea waves.

The night was cold and the wind bit at my bare arms, chills running through my body. I sat down on the sand and scolded myself for not bringing anything to cover my head and shoulders. 

I inhaled sharply and then listened to my heartbeat because I was alone. I didn't worry about getting my dress dirty. It was worth it for this view. 

I started to feel dizzy. I felt like I was about to fall asleep. I shouldn’t have drank too much.

"Enjoyed dancing to one of my songs, huh?" I suddenly heard a raspy voice from behind me. I turned around to experience the biggest shock of my life. It was the same man who had ogled me in the club. I looked at him with wide eyes. The moonlight fell on him, making his honey skin shine, while the wind blew, making his hair move gently. Even the moon wasn't as beautiful as him.

I scrunched my nose. I tried to recreate all the songs I danced to in my head. I didn't have to wait long until he finally sat down next to me.

“You're a musician?”

He let out a small chuckle and, oh my God, his laugh was so hot. 

“Yeah, something like that. But lately people have gotten used to calling me Europapa. I guess, I don't have a name anymore.” I laughed at his words. After his hint, I was finally able to figure out what song he was the author of.

“Ah, it's you. I knew you reminded me of someone. In my country, people already made you a global superstar.”  He raised an eyebrow at me and smirked.

“Oh, really? Where are you from?”

I nodded. “Poland, straight from the capital. How about you, Joost?”

I used his name for the first time since I could finally remember it. Judging by the expression on his face, I had to amuse him with my pronunciation because he started laughing. The smile disappeared from my face.

“No, no, no. Mh, I live in Leeuwarden, but currently I’m on tour. Came here in order to relieve my stress a bit. And you can call me whatever you want.”

I almost offered him another way to relieve his stress. It took all my might to hold back my laughter.

“Oh, I feel flattered.”

For a moment I looked at his shapely lips. Of course, he noticed that.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” I mumbled in a quiet voice, not knowing what to say.

“Can I get your name?” He asked finally.

“It's Y/n.” I said honestly, looking straight into his blue eyes. “Do you have anything to explain how you were devouring me with your eyes earlier?”

I bit the inside of my cheek, mentally scolding myself. I really should learn to keep my mouth shut.

I looked up, immediately seeing a wide smile on Joost's face.

“Sorry. You're just so fucking pretty, I couldn't help myself.”

I bit my lip, suppressing a loud moan. I hated myself for how much he affected me.

“Can I?” He asked before placing his hand on my bare thigh. I nodded excitedly, waiting for him to move, which made him laugh a little.

“Mh- yes. Please.” I added with a pleading look on my face.

He dragged his hand slowly to my inner thigh, tossing my leg over his thigh, and made a low humming noise that vibrated from his chest.

Before I knew it, Joost's lips were smushed against mine in a passionate kiss. I gasped into his mouth as I melted against his lips, my hands resting comfortably on his muscled arms as his laid against my warm neck. Joost grasped the underside of my thighs and pulled me off the ground, wrapping my legs around his hips. 

“Joost..” I moaned breathily as his puffy lips attacked my neck, “I need you.”

“Of course you do, who wouldn't?” He teased, leading me towards his car. It was so dark that even if someone had been on that beach with us, wouldn’t have noticed us.

“Such a narcissist.”

Joost chuckled, “You know, if you shut that slutty mouth for once, you'd be so pretty.”

He opened the car door and put me in the back seat. After a while, he closed the door and sat down next to me.

“Oh, Y/n. I will give your body exactly what it deserves.” He said, a wide grin on his face as he leaned down to kiss me once more.

I bit my bottom lip and answered with one simple word.

“Yes.”

Joost wasted no time. He placed me on his lap and rolled up my tight dress. He moved his hands all over my body, making me go crazy.

“Your body is art.” He murmured.

His eyes pierced through mine, his gaze so intense that I almost melted on top of him. My hand shyly reached for his, playing around with his fingers and I moved my eyes down to look at what we were doing. “Is that what you want?” His voice was soft as if to not scare me away. “You want my fingers?” I looked in his eyes again and nodded my head quickly, feeling a tingling sensation on my stomach from the excitement. His other hand came up to caress my cheek and a little smirk could be seen on his lips. 

I moved on his lap when I was ready and one of his hands grabbed my hip while the other one ran up and down my thigh.

“Please.” I moaned, grasping his forearm tightly as I scrunched my face up in pleasure.

His fingertips brushed through my folds, coating them in my juices and I whined when I felt him rub slowly at my clit. “You're a soaking mess, baby.” His voice was so calm, a contrast to how shaky my breath was.

I gasped and he started applying more pressure to my clit. He eased one of his fingers inside me and a soft moan left my lips, my hips moving to ride his finger, his eyes intensely staring at me. “More.” I whined quietly.

“More?” He smirked and inserted another finger, feeling how my walls clenched around his digits, his hand moving to match the movements of my hips, thrusting his finger in and out of my pussy and I could ear the wet sounds it did.

“I'm so c-close, Joost. Just like that.” I moaned louder, locking his fingers between my legs. 

“Cum on my fingers, baby.”

“Oh God,” I cried out as wave after wave of pleasure rocked through my body.

When I was done, he slowly removed his fingers from my pussy, moving them to his mouth, sucking my juices from them, grunting at the taste of me which made me sigh heavily at the sight in front of me.

“Take off your pants, Joost.”

“Of course, baby.” He chuckled, politely following my order.

[wineauntie]

ALWAYS YOU— luke hughes x reader

summary: you are the sun and Luke Hughes is in desperate need of some light.

note: I literally started writing this when tonight’s game ended (it’s 4am for me!). So please excuse any and all grammar mishaps!

warnings: fluff, luke hughes in love, nicknames like pretty boy, use of y/n.

word count: 1k+

throughly unedited due to it being 4am and the fact I wrote this half-asleep, please ignore mistakes :))

“Oh, Luke…”

Your boyfriend of two years, Luke Hughes stumbled into your arms from his place in the doorway to your apartment, his eyes shallowed with exhaustion as you opened your arms for him to fall into.

His body crashed into yours as you nudged your door closed with your foot, embracing Luke tightly. You weren’t tall at all in comparison to the 6’2 giant, who had to bend to lean into your warmth, so despite standing on the tops of your toes, feeling the ache run through your legs, you pushed through it and continued to hold him.

Tonight had been rough.

Losing 4-3 to the Rangers after the chaos of the first period, (with a record breaking 162 total minutes in penalties), this game was the last straw to fall in Luke’s mind. You see, Luke was good at hockey—great even, but he wasn’t a machine. He had those days where no matter how hard he’d try, the game never exactly went the way he needed it to go.

Tonight was one of those days.

And each thing that went askew built up and up until it was all just too much.

With over 30 minutes of ice time under his belt for the game, two game losses in a row, a team verbal lashing from their coaches along a silent and cold shower, the only thing Luke craved was to crawl home to you.

You and your effervescent comfort and joy that radiated.

To him, you were the sun, bright and well-loved, an asset needed to sustain all life. And perhaps the world couldn’t recognise you to be such, however Luke knew deep in his bones that a life without was you not a life he wished to live. Not even a life he wished to dwell upon.

You squeezed onto Luke as tight as possible, your own eyes shutting as he buried his head into the supple skin between your neck and shoulder. His arms had folded around you, holding you closer to his trembling body. You let him take what he needed, your comfort offered up to him in its simplest form, ready to be moulded into what he needed.

Luke wanted to let your rays envelop all of the darkness he felt beginning to blossom in his mind, he wanted to bask in the light of your unwavering love.

You were the reason he woke every morning with a sheepish smile, the reason his days were brighter and his heart fuller. He may not say it out loud in front of others in fear of being mocked, but you were the reason he kept going.

Not hockey, not the game, not some scores– only you.

Was you, is you and always will be you.

“How about we order food in, pretty boy?” You hummed lightly, your fingers brushing through his wild curls, as your other hand held him tight. “You must be starving.”

Luke nodded stiffly against your skin, unmoving form his position as he held you. You didn’t force him to answer verbally whilst he breathed in your solace, merely humming in acknowledgement as you continued to allow your fingers to card through his hair.

“If you need a shower, I have fresh towels and clothes for you in my room,” you mumbled, keeping your chin propped on his shoulder. “And if you need–”

Luke murmured something against your neck, so muffled that you couldn’t quite catch what he’d said.

“Hm?” You tilted your head so your nose brushed the shell of his ear.

“I had a shower there…I only need you,” Luke hoarsely spoke, his grip shifting and tightening as your heart melted. “Always need you.”

“You have me,” you promised quietly, your face pressing into his shoulder. You felt his body shudder as you kissed the pale skin that peeked out from his hoodie. “You’ll always have me.”

“Can we just watch a movie and sleep?” His soft voice cracked as he finally lifted his head to meet your eyes. You heart cracked open in your chest at the sight of defeat and pure tiredness present in the eyes you loved.

“Of course,” you smiled, as his hands moved to cup your face. “I’ll order food while you change and then we can chill on the couch or in bed for as long as you want.”

Luke nodded wordlessly, his head ducking to press a soft, pillowy kiss to your lips, his grip firm but loving as he kissed you. You found your hands settling amongst the curls at the base of his neck as you hummed lightly into the kiss.

Pulling away, his teary eyes met yours once more.

“I don’t deserve you,” he suddenly mumbled, his thumb caressing your cheek as he spoke in rushed words. “You should just break up with me and–”

“Keep talking like that Hughes and I’ll kick you into next week,” you interrupted sternly, forcing Luke to suppress an exhausted smile at your sharp response.

You were the sun after all, bright and warm but at it’s core– fiery, (…and very hot, in Luke’s opinion).

“You deserve to be loved, so let me,” you chided, your forehead pressing against his as he dropped his chin to his chest. “There is no one I would rather love, no one more worthy of it.”

Without another word, Luke sighed and nodded once more, his eyes glancing towards the small living room. Watching him, you smiled, waiting for his gaze to return to yours and when it did you watched him redden under your eyes.

“I rented Secretariat,” you told him, “so why don’t you go and get changed, we have a whole lot of nothing to go and do.”

“I love you,” his voice raw with emotion as he continued to cling to you.

“I love you too,” you answered with a hum, “and I meant it, there’s no one I would rather love than you. Please don’t ever doubt that.”

“I won’t,” he whispered, “and for the record, loving you was the easiest and greatest thing to ever happen to me.”

a/n: Tonight’s game was chaos in its finest form (I hate the rangers)

[chaethewriter]

You're dead to me [2]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, daddy issues, idk how one lives with zero gravity, barely proofread

Word count: 2,3k

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What actually took six years didn't feel like that to you at all. One moment you closed your eyes as you were put into cryosleep and after what felt like one second passed, you got woken up from your deep slumber. The claustrophobic space you are in makes something inside of you itch. Good thing you were into cryosleep, you couldn't have survived sleeping in this tube every night for six years in a row. Once your tube was pulled out of the wall, you immediately feel yourself floating. So this is what space felt like.

"Drink and eat lots, since you will feel very weak!", a loud voice echoes through the room as one by one everyone left their cryosleep. You float through the room with a smile on your face as you hold onto handles, lockers, anything to keep your balance. An excited scream could be heard from behind you, it was your friend Raja. "You are not dead I see," she jokes as she floats towards you, her arms wide open to invite you in a hug, "this is honestly insane, I can't believe that we are actually doing this!" You wrap your arms around you as you share her excitement, "I know right? We worked so hard for this, I can't believe this is happening." You met Raja on your first day being at the resistance base. She shared her passion for nature with pride and you always admired her for this. A cough is heard behind your back and Raja looks over your shoulder to see who it was, "Seb!" she squeals as she carefully gets out of your hug, floating towards their other friend to engulf him in a hug. You watch as Raja and Seb share their excitement with each other. They really didn't age at all while being in cryosleep, such an interestingly concept it was. You float towards them, holding onto Seb's shoulder to keep your balance and not pass out, because damn they were right. You feel so tired and weak. If you weren't in space right now you probably would have fallen to the floor. Your limbs felt like cooked noodles, you really needed to eat. "The trio is back at it again to cause havoc!!" Seb ruffles your head, your hair tangling in between his fingers as he did so. The three of you were the inseparable trio. While you had a group of friends you hung out with, you three always just stuck together like glue. It may have been the fact you bonded over being reckless warriors, thriving on the thrill and action, or the fact all three of you were top students, but that doesn't matter. Raja and Seb are your partners in crime til death do you all part. The two are engaged in a deep conversation, but you didn't bother to listen or chime in. You wanted to explore, and see what you worked your entire teenagehood for. Grabbing onto the handle against the walls, you made your way towards the huge window, were also most of the crew was floating around. You had to see this for yourself, you had to believe it with your own eyes. What if you were still dreaming?

"Excuse me, Pardon me!", still not used to not having any gravity, you keep bumping into other warriors. A 'watch where you're going!' was screamed your way, but you paid no mind to it as you had more important things to do. Floating past the last person that kept you from seeing outside, your eyes immediately widen at the beauty that lay in front of you. A planet, looking exactly like earth, right in front of you. It was beautiful, the true meaning behind mother nature. You bring your hand towards your cheek to pinch yourself, was this real? Were you truly experiencing this? When you pinched yourself so hard, leaving a red mark on your skin, and you didn't wake up you knew this was real. You were knocked out of your senses pretty quickly, as everyone was told to dress up, eat and get together in the common area. Where that was? No idea, but what you knew is that you were excited as hell. You basically swam through the air towards the lockers, where your supposed gear would be. The sight was probably incredibly silly, you thought, you probably looked like a swimming frog. Yet you didn't care about the stares that were given you. The only thing on your mind was to see Pandora with your own eyes— not out of books, notes you had to read, or drawings. You left without telling Seb or Raja, but you would probably find them, considering you're going to the same destination and those two definitely weren't to miss.

You float past all the lockers with nameplates, looking for your name. You were told that they were in alphabetic order. Last name. You could never escape him, could you? You proceed to float, using the lockers to pull yourself up and speed up towards the lockers that start with 'S'. Upon floating in front of the name that haunted you every day, you sigh and slam the locker open. Clothes sealed in recycled plastic, a pair of shoes, and an oxygen mask. Fortunately, it wasn't those old aquarium-like masks. When you learned about those you thought they were ugly as hell: a head in an aquarium. Those were designed like gas masks. Was that the best way to explain them? They only covered the mouth and nose part to breathe properly, it didn't cover the entire face anymore. You flash a skeptical expression towards the clothes in your arms. They were dark colors, dark colors in a hot amazon-like forest? If it were up to you, you wouldn't have chosen a little more, bare, clothes. For the sweat to at least dry up and not soak in the clothes. "Weird choice of clothes, right?", Raja appeared next to you, out of the blue, making you flinch. You quickly managed to cover it up and compose yourself, "I'm gonna end up looking like a crab while fighting a villain, kind of embarrassing." she laughs at your reply and grabs a hold of your forearm, "come on let's go change. Seb already went to change!" And with that, your friend pulls you with her. Changing your clothes was kind of awkward. The room was a big space where all women changed next to one another. It gave PE class vibes. You felt sticky and disgusting as you changed out of the clothes you wore for six years. Wearing fresh, clean clothes is always better than nothing. The material feels nice against your skin, and very cooling. As you look in the mirror, fixing every detail to look as neat as possible. You roll your sleeves up just a tad bit and tried to loosen the corset-like clothing piece around your upper body. It doesn't look exactly like a corset, but it's one of those clothing pieces that have a corset built into it. The mask is hanging against your hip, ready to be used 24/7 once you stepped foot on Pandora. The pants were a little wide thankfully, enough space to move into. "What is it with the corset though? Who wears a corset while fighting?" "Maybe it's bulletbroof or something?"

After this whole ordeal in the dressing room with some people whining about the clothes being too hot, while others were second guessing if the outfit was nice to fight in, you finally made your way towards this common area. There everyone was awkwardly sitting, what one could call sitting in space. Everyone was given a granola bar to snack on and a sealed bag with a sweet drink in it. You leaned against Seb, as you were too tired to use your strength to hold onto anything. Eating the bar and sipping from the overly-sweetened drink, you listened to the peptalk your superiors were giving you all. It was something about protecting Pandora, RDA and the forest Na'vi, but you really were too tired to listen. It was most likely the talk they did every time before you went into cryosleep. If you missed anything you could just ask Raja or Seb about it.

What almost felt like a decade to you, actually took just a few hours before you finally landed on Pandora. During the landing all, maybe twenty of you in total, were seated as you braced for impact. It wasn't too bad, it was like a plane landing. Before the doors opened, the duffel bags you took with you were placed on your laps. For your instance, the bag with the wrapped katana you got from your lieutenant was handed to you. You put your mask against your face, pressing it down and securing it as you breathe in the oxygen from the earth. Red lights flash through the area you're in with the others as the secured door lowers to the Pandorean ground, revealing the beauty of mother nature. You rise from your seat as your seat belt was already unclasped. Without waiting any longer, you rushed to the outside world in a heartbeat. Watching your surroundings, it seems like you landed on the resistance base. Unlike the RDA base, which you saw during your learning process, this one was more integrated with mother nature rather than destroying it to make space. It was so organic, so natural. A team was already waiting for your arrival, all standing in a row as you lock gazes with a Na'vi. Unlike the things you were taught about Na'vi clothing, this one was wearing human clothes. Could this be what one would call an avatar? The same situation your dad was also in? You start thinking he was your dad, but it didn't look like him at all. You knew avatars were supposed to look like their 'owners'. Even though it was supposed to be your dad's brother's avatar, they were twins. One would ask 'you don't know what your dad's avatar body looks like?', but honestly as you said many times you tried to pull away from the hauntings Jake Sully got you. The insecurities, and issues you got from his betrayal, his departure. It truly hit you like a truck. Questions would pop up like:

Were you enough?

Was there something wrong with you?

Why didn't he come back to you?

You couldn't take talking about your dad's new life. Selfish one may call it, then you were selfish in their eyes. You didn't care. Wanting your dad, is that selfish? Missing your dad, is that selfish? Angry because your dad wanted a new life without you, is that selfish? You yearned for him, yet despised talking about him. That's why you don't know what he looks like, what he is up to. You just know his history: put into the avatar body from his brother to follow military orders. From only caring about getting a paycheck to protecting the natives. He was crowned with the name Toruk Makto as you were taught. Mated to Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'Ite, daughter of the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik. When you first heard about this, you felt sick to your stomach. Reality hitting you even harder at age thirteen. It was already bad enough to know your dad left you, but also getting to know that he settled down while you spent your time waiting for him? You remember running out of the classroom when a superior taught you this information. This was also how you got in contact with Raja and Seb. They comforted you while everyone else thought of you as weird, weak. They were the first people, besides the superiors that came in contact with you, that came to know about your dad being Jake Sully, about the struggles you got after he left. Yet, they didn't laugh at what you thought was exaggerating. They listened carefully to your words as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

'We were attached to the hip, what went wrong?'

'Did I make him unhappy?'

'Was I too much for him?'

'Was he looking for something more rather than being a single dad?'

You spilled your insecurities to them and they never uttered a word about it to someone else. You will be forever grateful for them. You were so lost in thoughts, getting slightly emotional at all these thoughts about your dad, until a hand rested on your shoulder, "and last but not least, you must take her with you. She's our best warrior, Norm. She will need to stay on the battlefield, closest to the war." So Norm was his name. A pretty goofy one if you had to be honest. The avatar named Norm stood at least 10 feet tall as he looked down at you, literally. You just reached around his crotch area, which is kinda embarrassing because imagining running into his front. Hopefully, he likes to travel in his human body more. "Then that's settled, Oel Ngati Kameie." His hand rested against his forehead, slowly bringing it down to his chest. You flashed him a kind smile in return, ready for whatever adventure you will come across, "Oel Ngati Kameie."

But only if you knew.

.

.

"They have arrived, they will help us."

"They're sky demons! All the same!"

"I used to be one as well, yet I had a change of heart. Please accept the help they will offer us, for our people, for our family, our fortress." his hands grip hers, intertwining their fingers as he spoke to her in private, away from the children. He opened his mouth again, pressing his forehead against hers, "please, Ma Neytiri."

A/N: first of all, thank you all so much for the positive feedback. I honestly didn't expect it I'm gonna be fr😭 it gave me enough motivation to write part 2, so here it is, earlier than expected. I hope you enjoyed <3

also i hope no one noticed me accidentally posting the draft cause that was silly

Taglist (I couldn't find everyone):

@hoodiepandaninja16 @l0v3e1i @neteyamforlife @noname2246 @bunnyrose01 @littlelia007 @j0551 @navs-bhat @fyfy-world @hellok1ttycake @coterami @lwozy @erenjaegerwifee @n1ght5h4d3-24 @kahlowy @iloveavatar @farleyis @reguluscrystals @inomoikawa @bobojojoba69 @m3ll0n1xx @eternallyvenus @shyskybbb @imakms @keira7664 @alice121804 @aimsro @carollise @jjkclub @onlytays @wolfiealina @guska0 @yeosxxx @dakotali @destinylb @degenweeb @sunshinewwx @alohastitch0626

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #4 You’re worth is more than a penny.

Imagine dis…

We all read and saw fanfictions about either Jason, Constantine, Bruce, or even Jazz raising Danny when he became younger due to Clockwork’s interference, but what if we reverse the roles?

Alfred Pennyworth was raised by Phantom.

It was early 1900 in England where it is common for children were being sold like cattle for a penny. Among the rows of yelling parents who are willing to sell a few of their children for a few pounds to help themselves or the younger ones at home, one parent was loudly exclaiming that his child is merely worth more than a penny. A nameless child with skin and bones as a body, at the tender age of 6 years old he already knew the horrors of child slavery. Some were never seen again like the ones he saw outside playing tag and others return to their parents in a body bag. He also knew that no one would want a skinny child like him so he waited for the inevitable beating at this man’s house, He refuse to call that man his father nor that dingy four-by-four wall home.

Suddenly a distinguished gentleman walked past him and he was just in awe at what he had sawed. A young man that seemed like in his early 20s has a face of youth yet has an air of maturity around them. Wearing the cleanest pair of white waistcoats and black trousers, shaggy black hair, and striking blue eyes.

It was obvious that he was an errand boy looking around for new workers, his mind supplied.

The man looked at him with raised eyebrows and couldn’t help but think that this person may buy him out of this man’s clutches and put him to work that may or may not end his life.

The older man who saw the interested look of the errand boy tried to advertise him as his worth is merely a penny.

…

Danny was merely taking a break from his kingly duties after months, years, and centuries have passed since his adventures as Danny Phantom. Visiting a newly made dimension in the eyes of the king of Infinite Realms, he made his way through the early 1900s for some sight-seeing, with the insurance from his advisers, court, family members, and consorts (Tucker & Sam) he went and enjoyed the view and contemplating that why does Clockwork give him his farewell in a form of a cryptic message such as a father of a bat needs saving from his unexpected fate,  as well this universe felt like something interesting is bound to happen.

Being the High King of the Infinite Realms the realms itself chose him as their champion and king through countless rights of ascensions throughout the years.

Seeing that child slavery is still a thing at this point in time made him want to turn around and go to another realm less depressing than this time and come back later when they abolished slavery.

Though he caught an eye on this thin scrawny little boy who is nothing but skin and bones that the tiniest gust of wind will push him on the brick pavement, the boy’s parents however saw him taking interest and tried to get rid of the boy seeing that he was nothing but an extra mouth to feed due to his “responsibility” as a parent and tried to sell him for a penny.

Danny weighed the pros and cons in this situation, raising a mortal child may be both rewarding and satisfactory but the fact that he cannot break the ancient rules to make him immortal that was placed by the Realms themselves to uphold the balance between the living and the ancient realm, but he can bend it to an extent, so that if he can extend longevity in his lifespan to at least reach a century or so.

Added to the fact that Clockwork gave a message to protect him.

Bought the boy for a penny and carried the child towards the disguised horse carriage.

Now, how to explain to his family that he acquired a mortal child?

…

The nameless boy widened his eyes in surprise as the “errand” boy actually bought and carried him gently towards a clean carriage that looked like is owned by a king.

After making him sit beside his employer, his employer began asking him questions.

Such as his age, and name. likes, dislikes, and many other confusing questions.

At the mention of not having a name his employer began to frown, looks like he has made his new employer furious and he hasn’t even begun to earn his keep.

After a tense silence, his employer declared that HIS new name would be Alfred Pennyworth, as the word Alfred means counsel as he stated that he can see his future and that he would counsel different men who wish his advice, and Pennyworth, as his father is a fool for selling him for a penny as he is worth more than that.

At the time the nameless no…, At the time Alfred didn’t know what is the warm feeling on his chest that made him long for this man’s approval. He may be naïve or far too trusting for putting his trust in a man he met for a few minutes but at the time his only thought was he had his own name that he owns.

When the carriage stopped his employer carried him out of the carriage, and what greeted him is something he would never forget.

An endless green sky stretches along the horizon, A large black castle that reaches the sky that has growing vines all over its walls, at the front an entire estate dedicated to different and extinct plant life to flourish, and rows and rows of servants lined up and dressed in the fanciest clothing for maids and for all genders bowing ever slightly greeting and welcoming back their master in unison.

He looked behind him and around him for the master of the house but when he couldn’t see one, he turned his attention to the one who bought him as he is quite sacred for upsetting for not greeting the master in his own house.

But as he turn to the man for a plea for help he caught the small smile that his employer gave him and nodded towards the directions of the servants.

That was the time he learned that the man who bought him and gave him a name is his supposed master.

…

The next few days were confusing to the young Alfred Pennyworth, as he expected to be working on the animal shed or any menial tasks yet he was treated like a prince.

Free to learn what he desired, learning skills that he would never think of learning, free to eat anything his heart and stomach desired, free to have a soft bed to sleep on as well as having toys to ensure that he was not bored, given a wide variety of possible hobbies to take his mind off things. Gained and learned philosophies around the realms as well as had great teachers in teaching him essential things in morals, science, and more. Most importantly gained a family that he never thought he would even have.

He learned how to walk silently as a ghost, be swift in terms of movements waster no action, be present like a shadow, and use any weapon at hand, one’s body is a weapon itself. Discipline thy self in any temptation known to man, to integrate oneself to be unknown, eyes and emotions betray your mind be mindful of your facial and body movement as a single doubt will get someone you love to perish, but most importantly learned his new family’s motto.

Family is family.

Simple yet a powerful motto. No matter how cruel the man who brought and gave him a new life and purpose, the man who he saw as father, maybe in making decisions to ensure that the Infinite Realms stay balanced throughout the entire realms. How ruthless are his aunts and uncle to make sure that everything in between stays in the center of the balance as too much of the brings chaos

When Alfred was merely a teen he was given a blessing by his father, to be able to live a long life while maintaining his morality. One day he may die which is true, but it will be a long time before the reaper takes him to his next adventure.

Spending time with each member of the Nightingale family are memories that will be kept deep inside his heart. His mother Sam, taught him the wonders and secrets of flora, his other father Tucker, taught him how technology is used both in hope and destruction, His uncle Dan taught him about being an impenetrable wall in both mind and body, His older aunt Jazz taught him how to read his opponents in combat as well learning the beauty of human brain, His aunt Ellie who taught and showed him the wonders of the world in terms of the scenery, delicacy and culture, His grandfather Clockwork, taught him to be a cryptic as well moving on and forward as bad things are as natural as breathing and to move on is to let the time run its course.

Last but not least his father Danny, the High King of the Infinite Realms the man who he owes his entire being and life. The man whom he respects and wishes to turn out like him, the man who is proud to call his father. Taught him a multitude of things that one would not expect from a king, Be a Gentleman. A firm handshake combined with looking the other person in the eye carries with it respect, dignity, and strength, Honor Your Father and Mother, Respect Women, Be a Man of Integrity, Take Responsibility, and Work Hard, among the advice he gave and taught to him that they put into his life through action and words.

When WW2 came to his dimension he asked his father to be able to go back as it is still integrated into his blood to fight for the country that he was born into. As well as making a name for himself, to prove to the world his worth is more than a penny, to prove that all of their learning is not to be put to waste.

With the approval of his family, he set out to make his name.

S.A.S. Armed Services, fighting in 15 different operations between ages 18 and 20. A skilled medical and front liner soldier who was decorated. He later joined MI5, as well the secret forces of the Queen and later being knighted by her majesty

…

In this present time, we all know the current Alfred Pennyworth, the kickass ninja butler who is a mystery to the Batfam and has a lot of skillsets that are both surprising and expected to the Batfam. The butler who dared to out Batman the Batman. The butler is willing and dared to ground Batman for not taking care of himself. The butler carries a shotgun out of defense and we are pretty sure he is hiding a hidden bazooka somewhere in the manor. The butler who cooked delicious food and the one who raised Bruce Wayne

…

Working for the Wayne is not set to be permanent but the moment his ward Bruce Wayne becomes a hero just like his father and brings in his own version of a makeshift family he cannot help but stay for the sake of his ward that he saw as a son.

His family was there every step of the way.

Looking at the long dinner table that is filled with food with his ward/ son and his children he can't help but look fondly at the scene in front of him.

This is why he would not eat with the rest of the Batfam, the ambitious dinner or just being complete brings him back just when he was just a little boy looking at his father for guidance.

…

The Bat family are known to be good sometimes great detectives as they were taught by the greatest detective in the world, despite their wit and intelligence they still could not figure out their grandfather/ butler.

Having no presence before WW2 is common, as many orphans joined the war to bring acknowledgment to their names and presences. So when a glowing green letter made its way towards the kitchen counter, just as Alfred took a moment to look when he immediately snatched the said letter and ripped it open to see the contents.

Now mind you this was a never occurrence as Alfred Pennyworth is the epitome of calmness and neutrality so when he tore a letter like a kid who was given his first Christmas present all noise seemed to stop to look at the wide-eyed butler.

Alfred kept reading the said letter with wide eyes ignoring the shocked look of the people around him. Immediately telling Bruce that he will be going on an immediate 2-week vacation without even concealing his own joy in his voice and quickly turned around to pack a suitcase worth.

The entire Wayne’s both adopted and not are now invested what could the letter possibly contain that Alfred Pennyworth himself becomes a kid just by reading it?

Tailing the said butler was hard, following his quick steps which indicate impatience from the patient butler as well as a small smile that indicates fondness immediately became their new case.

Stopping at a large mansion surrounded by plant life that has a gothic aesthetic to it. As Alfred entered the gate he was tackled by a small black-haired blue-eyed child immediately followed by three teens and one large buff young adult.

All of them are hugging and exclaiming joy as Alfred reciprocated each hug with enthusiasm for his age.

Who are they and how does Alfred know all of these people?

 …

PS: If someone out there wanting to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so don’t forget to tag me though.

[burningvelvet]

being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide

walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration

be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father. 

speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them. 

be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)

consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.

reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians. 

if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife. 

speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.

if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.

After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.

If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.

If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can. 

DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.

[crystaldivination]

“𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠?”

Thιs ιs ᥲ ᥣᥱttᥱr/tᥱxt from ყoᥙr most dᥱsιrᥱd ρᥱrsoᥒ

Hᥱყ bᥲbᥱs! It’s bᥱᥱᥒ ᥲ ᥕhιᥣᥱ, ᥲ qᥙιtᥱ ᥣoᥒg ᥕhιᥣᥱ bᥙt ᥒoᥕ I’m hᥱrᥱ ᥕιth ᥲ ᥒᥱᥕ ριᥴk-ᥲ-ᥴᥲrd rᥱᥲdιᥒg. Todᥲყ I brιᥒg ყoᥙ ᥲᥒothᥱr romᥲᥒᥴᥱ toριᥴ. I oρtᥱd for somᥱthιᥒg I kᥒoᥕ ყoᥙ’d ᥣιkᥱ ᥲᥒd somᥱthιᥒg thᥲt’d rᥲdιᥲtᥱ ᥣovιᥒg ᥱᥒᥱrgყ to ᥱvᥱrყoᥒᥱ ᥕho fιᥒds thιs. I hoρᥱ ყoᥙ ᥲᥣᥣ fιᥒd ιt ᥱᥒjoყᥲbᥣᥱ! Lᥱt mᥱ kᥒoᥕ hoᥕ ιt rᥱsoᥒᥲtᥱs.

⣷ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ⣷ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐒 ⣷ 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 & 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄

Disclaimer: this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn't. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

How to choose your pile? As always meditate or close your eyes before looking at each picture. Trust your intuition and pick out a picture you feel the most drawn to.

The piles

both rows from left -> right

© 2023 crystaldivination ── all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, edit, alter, or redistribute my work. Plagiarism in any form is prohibited.

1 🖤

—mყ oᥒᥱ

You! Yes, you. What are you doing? Letting your life passing by you like that… don’t make a habit of attempting to give up without even trying. Don’t you dare waste your precious time. It’s time to wake up my little honey bear. I don’t wanna see you like that. You got your passion to go after, a so amazing future ahead of you waiting for you to embrace.

Don’t you think you’re worth it? Worth your effort trying to make what you truly want happen even if you don’t know the outcome now? Because I think you are. I’m right here even if you can’t see me. You would know how frustrated I can be when you’re being so stubborn and fearful. That’s so not you, you know that *chuckle*. Where did the little fiery spirit go, hm? I get that, things are not that easy… everything used to be easier, dot dot dot but don’t you see that you’re just making it harder than it looks? What do you have to lose if you just make the first step, huh? Try it, right now! No one is standing in your way but yourself. I can speak from experience.

A not so good result? Chin up. Try it again! And again until you got the hang of it. It’s better than just living in dissatisfaction and getting by right? Master your bravery until you master your craft. Now take my hand and trust in the process. Believe in yourself and what you can. I’m always watching you from above. Don’t make me feel sad about not being able to guide you. I want you to enjoy yourself and your life. You got this! There’s nothing to worry about. Open your heart and your mind then you’ll see the magic happening right in front of you. Make a difference first and all will follow. I’m always beside you, loving and supporting you. We will find each other again. I’m the light at the end of the tunnel, always guiding you home. You’ve never lost me. You belong with me. If you miss me, look deep in your heart and you’ll see me there. Have hope my love.

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2 🖤

—sᥱᥲsoᥒ ᥴhᥲᥒgᥱ

It’s hard for me to say something or anything at all. I don’t know… I’m in pain right now. The darkest feelings from memories that I’ve always wanted to escape from are catching up to me. I can’t take this excruciating pain and agony anymore. People are cruel. Sometimes I ask myself if love really is out there, if it’s kind enough to wait for me to give me its sincere and beautiful magic like how they called it at all or if there’s nothing like that because if there is, would it betray me like this? What does it all mean? Is everything just love? What is love? Is it just a journey one must go to find themself again? It’s hard, it’s painful. I feel like losing myself. Why does one have to go through pain?

I can’t get these bitter feelings off of me. My world is falling apart with nothing to hold on to. You’re the one i want to avoid the most but at the end of the day I somehow always find myself holding on to you again. You’re the only one I can remember, the only one I can hold onto even if I don’t want it. The only thing I can do is to deny it so I won’t believe it but I know that’s not the truth. You’re keeping me from collapsing completely. I know it’s selfish if I say I want you to ease my pain, to take my pain away but right now you’re the only safe haven I have.

I want to be a sweet and friendly person for you but there’s all this anxiety. The horror and the fear from the past are holding me back. I’m scared. I’m scared to scare you. I’m triggered when I see your face. You need to stay out of my way. I don’t want to hurt you. I fear to make this mistake again. To trust and then being let down again. Loving you feel like a dream but I’m too unstable. What if I can’t ever get out of that dream although it’d be a beautiful thought but I’m scared to mess up. I used to have everything but you and now I have nothing but you to hold onto. Isn’t that sad or just a cliché? I do want to give you a love so pure and I want love you unconditionally but maybe love is not in it for me, maybe i just need to focus on myself. I’m just unlucky I guess, for a lack of a better word.

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3 🖤

—mooᥒᥣιght

I’ve been looking for you for way too long. We belong together, you and I. We're soulmates, I just know it. I know you’re right there. You’re just waiting for me like I am for you. It’s reassuring to know we both sit under the same sky looking at the same moon right? I can’t wait to meet you. I think we’re alike. You’re exactly what I’m looking for. Let me be the perfect missing puzzle to your picture and you can be the light that is shining on me. You’re my beautiful dream fever. You drive me wild and crazy.

Under the moonlight let me adore you. I can imagine your eyes sparkling when admiring the stars while I’m the one who’s admiring your beauty. Looking into your eyes must be magical. I don’t have to see through rose-colored glasses to recognize how you are the rosé world embellished with flower petals yourself that I seek. You’re a fascination to me. I can’t figure you out yet but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to know you more. I don’t actually know you but I feel like I do regardless. I don’t need to know the truth. My heart knows you’re perfect either way.

Your skin, the softness that you carry in you. I want to inhale your scent like it's some kind of drug I can’t get used to with its intensity but won’t be able to stop. You speak and understand me with all your body and soul, I know you do, thus this is why day by day I dive into you with my soul. Although my mortal eyes show and tell me something else it doesn’t matter. As long as I have you in my heart I know you’re already here with me and always. They say you’re a rare diamond that I, as an ordinary human, have no chance to earn but let me, a humble one, find you and treat you the way you’ve always deserved because you’re worthy of all good. You can decide once you see and know me if I’m worthy of your attention and love. I want to claim you as mine but not out of fear, instead I want you to claim me as yours as well.

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4 🖤

—thᥱ soᥙᥒd of ყoᥙ

Why are you so ridiculously beautiful? You’re so stunningly beautiful. You can do whatever you want to me, and I’ll let you. I care for you so much. You’re the softest sound from the most perfect lullaby I’ve ever known of but can’t seem to believe actually exists. I dream of you. I want to see you smile and make you happy.

Come here. I’m right here, sweetheart. I need you to stop beating yourself up. You won’t hurt yourself. You won’t give up. You can overcome anything because you’re strong. You can do it for yourself and me. Be happy and live your life to the fullest. You deserve it my little darling. You don’t know how special you are so don’t you dare lose your light because of anything or anyone trying to dim that light. Stay positive and be brave. I know you can.

Most of the times I don’t even know why my heart is longing for you. It’s like there’s an invisible draw that is pulling me towards you. A call for my other half. An important half that I feel is missing in me. Is there a chance that I’ve known you before because I feel like knowing you without knowing you before. You open up memories in me that I’ve never seen before but they are telling me they exist deep in my mind and were forgotten for a very long time. Do you believe in destiny? I don’t but I might get convinced.

With me you don’t have to be tough all the time or pretend to be. I can love you for who you are with all your strengths and weaknesses. If you’re really the right one for me and that can only my heart tells, I’ll love you with all that my heart can offer. And I promise you, I will stick around as long as I can. I won’t let you down.

Now wait for you? I can do that. Even if the world ends tomorrow my will would stay strong. I want to be able to see and touch you. I’m confused but this is somehow a good feeling. What do you say? I think I’m not ready for our union yet but I might get surprised by the universe by what it is conspiring for us, I guess?

♡ PS. to my followers who participated in my latest game — due to personal matters i won’t be able to answer your asks any time soon but I’ll try to queue them whenever I can. I apologize for the delay.

— you’ve reached the end of this post, thanks for reading!

signed, crystal.

[celtic-crossbow]

You Would Break Your Back to Make Me Break a Smile

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria era

Warnings: Poorly written smut

Summary: A run goes sideways, leaving you and Daryl to spend the night together in a remote cabin. Nothing new until feelings are thrown into the equation.

A/N: This was originally written for my old OC. It also explored asexual Daryl and there are still elements of that here.

You pulled the corner of your bottom lip between your teeth, concentrating on keeping your arm still. The urge to overthrow your opponent was strong, but you had to play fair. Cheating was not an option. It wasn’t until you were mercilessly pinned for the fifth time in a row that you considered cheating may actually be an option after all. 

“Ugh!” You groaned quietly, struggling to free yourself. 

“You’re the one wanted to play,” came the gravelly response. 

You conjured an unimpressed scowl. “Again.” When he didn’t immediately move to oblige, you raised your brows, angled your head for a better view, and elbowed him. “Come on. Again.” A heavy sigh resounded, but he finally raised his arm and clasped your waiting hand, blue eyes avoiding your overconfident grin. Shaking out your shoulder in preparation, you blew upwards to rid your face of an unruly strand of hair and recited “one, two, three, four; I declare a thumb war!”

After three more failed attempts, you finally gave up but not without a massive pout and another jab at his ribs. You flipped unceremoniously onto your back, the point of his elbow resting just above the top of your head. Whether due to chivalry or something else, he had offered to sleep on the floor, but you weren't having that. The full bed was plenty big enough for both of you. It wouldn’t be the first time you had shared a bed. “Your thumbs are longer than mine.”

Daryl scoffed. “Right.” He drawled, the hand he had been using joining the other behind his head. He stared at the ceiling as the last rays of daylight began to crawl away from the looming shadows of the night. It was only a matter of time before he’d hear the familiar growls and moans and the ever unsettling bump of undead bodies against the outer walls. 

“Wanna play Never Have I Ever?” 

Your voice drew him from his thoughts with barely a start. “D’rather not.” You didn’t know. You didn’t need to know. 

You let out a sigh. “We don’t have any liquor anyway.”  A pause. “Truth or dare?”

“S’with ya?” He asked, regarding you from the corner of his eye. You didn’t answer right away; only wiggled around until your hip was pressed tightly against his own. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t flinched at the contact and continued to watch you.

“Nothing, silly.” You replied quietly. The need to be near silent when outside the protective walls of your home was imperative. It was also something the spitfire at his side struggled with even when that need was near dire. 

Daryl narrowed his eyes but said nothing else. You had been around him long enough for him to catch the dismissive undertone. The run had gone smoothly for the most part: few walkers, a myriad of medical supplies and canned foods to fill your packs and a couple of milk crates, and even a few stale candy bars you had snagged for a treat on the ride back. It was the living, breathing trio that had been in the middle of stealing the car when the two of you had exited that became the problem. Shots were fired, drawing more of the undead. A bolt had taken down one adversary, the other two making off with the rusted Buick that was meant to be your way home. 

So, you had set out on foot. The supplies sorted and consolidated to fit in your packs and one crate, Daryl had insisted you carry it so he could keep his crossbow at the ready. No more than a dozen walkers were tailing you, but they had been easy enough to either lose or dispatch once you had found the simple cabin that would be your shelter for the night. 

Yes, you had lost the car and had the grueling trek that would take at least most of tomorrow’s daylight hours before reaching that familiar gate, but neither of you were injured, you had food, and you were relatively safe for the night. So, what was bothering you?

“Hey, Daryl?” 

Maybe he was about to find out. 

“Hmm?” He had finally allowed his gaze to settle back on the ceiling only to have it find you once again. You were staring upward intently, a small crease between your brows. That ceiling must have been extremely interesting, the way you both seemed to get lost in it. 

“Have you—ever been in love?” There was a hesitance, a shyness to your question that was evident yet unplanned, as you closed your eyes and your face twisted while a silent curse fell from your curled lips. ‘Nice job, idiot!’ You didn’t watch his reaction, positive that the question had caught him off guard. He didn’t move or make a sound, which had your stomach twisting into knots. This was not how you had wanted this conversation to start; not even close to what you had rehearsed over and over in your head since the prison. “I mean—have you—did you ever—that is to say—”

“No.” It was a simple but honest answer. Daryl had never found time for it; never found he wanted to make time for it. Sure, he had experience with women, thanks to his brother, copious amounts of liquor, and a few twenties scattered over the years of his youth, but no relationships of which to speak. He just was never a sexual being, lacking any desire and overwhelmed by peer pressure and pent up emotion. It was never about connection. He had never let anyone that close. 

“Oh.” You weren't sure what answer you had expected. You thought maybe he would berate you for thinking he cared for such girlish notions. Perhaps he would laugh at you; tell you he had been a player like Merle. Instead, he had answered and was now staring at you from behind the fringe of hair that always found its way over his eyes. You managed a glance at him before you lifted one side of your jacket to study the zipper. “What about Carol?”

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “S’not like that with me an’ her.”

“Oh.” You repeated.

“Why?” He countered. And god, he was still looking at you. 

You cleared your throat and turned onto your side to face him. Still, your eyes found everything in the room except his gaze. “Do you think it exists?” You avoided his question. Daryl watched you prop yourself up on your elbow, your dainty fingers reaching for the hem of his jacket. “Like—like there's someone out there for everyone?” You fiddled with a loose thread and glanced up at him from under your long, dark lashes. His handsome face held a mixture of exasperation and confusion. You would have giggled at his plight had your nerves not been twisting around like live wires in your gut. 

Daryl Dixon was your best friend, a title he earned back when your little family was still new—even if you both would have vehemently denied it. He had appointed himself your protector, your instructor. He endured you at your worst, still managing to teach you how to protect yourself; how to survive. You had thrown actual weapons at his head while spouting insults that he didn’t even understand. Daryl had had no problem retaliating, using any and all information he had known of you to produce digs that would make your blood boil or your eyes grow wet. Actual friendship came later and more naturally than he’d probably ever care to admit. Daryl would actually request you to accompany him on runs, trusting you enough to have his back. Your once venomous verbal attacks had softened into banter accompanied by elbow jabs and hair ruffles. You began to enjoy each other's company.

Eventually, the brush of his fingertips over your bicep as he steered you out of harm’s way had begun to send electric pulses into your skin, kickstarting a thumping of your heart that was so loud in your ears, it would drown out the pandemonium around you.  Your name from his lips would send shivers up your spine. The times you had bunked together, you found yourself stealing glances at him while he slept, kept watch, ate, worked on his crossbow. Everything he did was like seeing a unicorn. You were fascinated by him, in awe of this man who seemed to be born and molded for the end of the world. More often than not, he slept next to you, offering his warmth against the winter chill or his presence against the demons that knocked in your nightmares.  He held you while you mourned those you had lost. Daryl was quite easily your favorite person. That, and more. And that is what scared you.

“Dunno.” The archer gave a halfhearted shrug. He couldn’t claim to have never thought about what it would be like settling down with someone; having a family. Settling with you, if he was being honest. Images often invited themselves into the forefront of his mind. You wearing his ring while you chopped vegetables for a stew you were making with Carol. You would bring him a beer and perch yourself on his lap while he had a cigarette on the front porch swing of the home you shared. You’d even steal the smoke right from his lips and take a long draw before offering it back. He’d seen your belly swollen and prominent under your sundress while you hung laundry on the line in the backyard. You cradled a tiny baby in the crook of your arm, leaning so that your family could see the infant’s face. He banished the visions with a minute shake of his head, sitting up and angling to the side so he could regard you properly. “S’this ‘bout, woman?” 

Your mouth opened before snapping shut again with an audible click of your teeth. ‘Don’t chicken out now!’ Daryl’s expression was unreadable, and that alone was terrifying. All the time you had spent together, you were sure you had become fluent in Daryl Dixon. “I—” You sat up quickly, matching his position, not so much to face him but because you had needed to move before the words that were swelling in your throat came spilling out in the wrong order and ruined everything. 

“Ya alright?” Daryl ducked his head to seek out your gaze, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was a strange conversation. He bit back the urge to ask if it was ‘that time of the month.’ Once upon a time, Carol had explained to him why that was frowned upon. “S’really on your mind?”

Was he imagining things or was the distance between you dissipating?

“It’s just—��  You were chewing on your bottom lip, pulling your knees underneath you and then you were right in front of him, lowering to sit on your hip. His brow knitted, Daryl resisted the urge to move, holding his gaze on your face. He could feel your breath mingling with his own now, eyes flickering down to your lips and back to those shimmering irises. Peripherally, he could see your hands on either side of his face, hovering scant inches away. 

“Is—is this okay?” You whispered.

Daryl didn’t answer, not right away. He was too busy trying to control the overbearing thudding behind his ribs. His breathing had picked up, and he was certain he may hyperventilate right there on the spot. ‘Too close. Too close.’ Someway, somehow, he still found himself nodding. 

“Okay.” You breathed against his mouth, your lips tickling his own before meeting them in a gentle press. Your eyes fluttered closed while his widened and stared off into nothing, as if he could see right through you. Your hands finally rested against the sides of his face, your thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones. It wasn’t until your lips parted slightly that the archer snapped out of his stupor and reciprocated, placing his left hand over your right on his face while your mouths moved, slow and deliberate. 

When you pulled back, just far enough to see his expression, his eyes slowly opened (when had he closed them?). You stayed that way for several heartbeats, searching one another. Your hands were still on his face, his larger fingers slowly curling around yours before he moved both to the sliver of mattress that remained between you. 

Unfamiliar emotions swirling in his chest were making it difficult to breathe, constricting and contracting around his heart like a pulsating vice. A war was raging within him and there you were, patient and grounding while you waited for him to work through his inner turmoil. Your pretty eyes lowered as if you knew he couldn’t think while trapped under the weight of your gaze. 

“Look, Daryl—”

“Don’t.” 

You looked at him then. He was staring at your still joined hands between you, his thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles. His eyes were narrowed, a crease between his brows. He looked vaguely uncomfortable and you wanted nothing more than to reach out but something told you he wouldn’t dare let go of your hand at that moment. Several more beats of silence passed and he still hadn’t spoken another word.

You licked your suddenly dry lips, feeling an odd sense of panic. Was it time to defuse the situation? “We don’t have to talk about this.” You offered, keeping still when you felt his hand tighten around yours. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Do it again.”

“What?” It was your turn to knit your brows. 

He still didn’t look at you but he angled his head back toward you. “Again. What ya did.”

“Kiss you?” 

He gave a curt nod.

You hesitated. “Okay.” You lifted the hand he wasn’t holding to cup his cheek, slotting your mouth over his. He returned the kiss immediately this time, just as gently as before. Just as you thought of pulling back, his free hand came up to cradle the back of your head. Your eyes flew open for but a mere heartbeat before fluttering closed. You melted into the moment, only then noticing the enticing roughness of his chapped lips; the tickle of his scruffy facial hair against your skin. It was quite possibly the most tender kiss you had ever received. No clashing of tongues and teeth; only simple and soft movements of your mouths. You could easily become addicted.

He pulled back first this time, but his hand remained in your hair. Daryl tipped his head forward to touch your foreheads together. “Y/N.” He whispered, not really sure why. He just needed to say your name. The archer wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He knew how much he adored you, needed you in his life but this was too much. He felt like a raw, exposed nerve and wasn’t sure where he was supposed to go from here. 

You pulled away then and Daryl’s head snapped up to watch you. You sat up on your knees and peeled your jacket from your shoulders before tossing it onto the floor. He all but gulped, sure of where this was headed when you reached for his own jacket.

Pushing one shoulder free, you moved to the next and risked a glance at his bicep, the muscles flexing rhythmically under his skin when he lifted his arm to toss the wadded-up leather over your head. Your pulse accelerated and you took a calming breath before reaching for his vest. “You can tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” You popped the first button free and then the next, flicking your gaze up to his but he was watching the nimble movements of your fingers. “Daryl.” He looked up immediately. “All you have to do is say the word.” 

After a moment, he nodded almost imperceptibly. He watched you spread open his vest and push it from his shoulders. He shrugged it off so you could toss it over with your jacket. You sat back on your heels and grabbed the hem of your shirt, pausing for a moment to give him time to interject. When he said nothing, you pulled the garment over your head. With calculated movements, you reached for the front of his dark gray button-up, once again pausing. Daryl couldn’t bring himself to stop you. When the last button was free, you slipped your fingers under the fabric to part it. It was then that the archer felt panic bubble up into this throat, his eyes going wide. He grabbed your wrist so quickly that he hadn’t been aware of the action until he heard your gasp. “Wait—”

You stared at him, briefly alarmed before your eyes softened in understanding. The hand he wasn’t holding gently cradled his cheek. “I’ve seen them before.” 

He knew that. You had tended to so many wounds during your time together, but insecurity ensured that he acknowledged the cursed existence of the mars on his flesh. With a deep breath through his nose, his hands replaced yours to slowly rid himself of the shirt, the fringed edges of the cut-off sleeves tickling his skin. You grabbed it up and twisted your body to add the garment to the ever-growing pile. Your breath caught in your throat as his calloused fingertips brushed your skin. With a quick glance, you smiled softly at the bare curiosity in his gaze. You turned almost fully away from him while unsnapping the clasp of your bra, letting it slide down your arms and to the floor with a quiet sound. 

You looked over your shoulder, your head lowered so that only your eyes were visible. He could see the slight squint of your sparkling orbs. You were smiling at him and his heartrate quickened at the thought of seeing the expression clearly. He remained oblivious of his own expression and the fact that his rare grin and the soft whispers of his fingertips were solely responsible for the way you were looking at him. 

You turned then, returning to your knees, giving him a clear view of your smile—and your naked torso. Daryl felt the heat rise in his face and travel all the way to the tips of his ears. He’d seen a naked woman before but never so calmly; so intimately. 

You noticed his discomfort and tilted your head thoughtfully. “It’s okay to touch me, Daryl.” Your voice was quiet and soft, like you weren't sure if he’d follow through with the gentle command. 

And he didn’t. 

The archer determinedly kept his eyes on your face. It was cute but you’d never tell him so. You moved closer, the air between you scarce enough to take Daryl’s breath. Your lips ghosted over his while your fingers trekked a featherlight path down his arm before settling on his hand. You wrapped your hand around his and lifted it to place his palm on your left breast, keeping your fingers secure enough to ground him. 

“I want this.” You whispered against his mouth. You felt his fingers twitch before his thumb swept slowly over your nipple. You drew in a sharp breath and closed your eyes. Your skin felt chilled at the sudden loss of his touch when he quickly retracted his hand. Your eyes reopened to find his flickering back and forth between your gaze and your chest. 

The sudden press of his mouth on yours had you gasping again before you settled, bringing both hands to his shoulders. His fingers danced over your skin again, his other hand joining the first to stimulate both pebbled buds with gentle twists. How many nights had you dreamed of him touching you like this?

You hesitantly swept your tongue over his bottom lip before withdrawing, testing his reaction. You didn’t want to push him past his comfort level; no matter how badly you wanted him. When his mouth opened and you felt him lick against the crease of your lips, it was over. Your hands moved to his hair, fingers tangling in the greasy strands to pull him closer while you drank in the smoky taste of him. Daryl seemed to be finding a tentative level of confidence, twisting to bring one leg onto the bed, bent at the knee. His rough hands left your chest to slide down your sides, fingers hooking into your belt loops and using them to pull you closer. You let out a squeak which the archer eagerly swallowed before you broke apart, both panting. Your foreheads rested together, Daryl’s eyes closed while you scrutinized him for any sign that he may not want to venture further. 

“Daryl?”

“Will ya take these off?” He questioned hoarsely with a small tug on the loops of your pants. You answered with a nod, pulling his hands away so you could back off the mattress and stand. Daryl watched you intently, your slender fingers popping open the button before sliding down the zipper. When you had shimmied the pants down to mid-calf, you bent to undo the laces of your boots, toeing them off along with your socks. The archer couldn’t help but smirk when you straightened. Of course you weren’t wearing underwear. 

“I’ve shown you mine.  Will you show me yours?” You purred, crawling back onto the bed. 

Daryl scoffed and put his hand on your face while he stood, giving you a playful shove. You laughed quietly, but still reached for his belt. He tried to take a step back and you quickly released him. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

He was wearing that expression again, uncertainty warring with desire. He wanted you. God, did he want you in every way he could possibly have you. The heat that had begun to pool low in his belly was not unfamiliar yet unnerving. This would change everything. You could never go back to what you already had. And would you understand him? Would you accept him for all that he was?

And for all that he wasn’t?

“No.” Goddamnit, he wanted to try. He stepped forward again but you didn’t reach for him. “S’just—” he hesitated, rubbing anxiously at the back of his neck. This beautiful creature was sitting bare and you wanted him, of all people. What if he couldn’t be what you wanted? “Don’t usually care ‘bout this kinda shit.” He thought for a moment that he very well might vomit. You were sitting on your heels now, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. You looked like you were working out some complicated math problem in your head. Daryl barely suppressed his flinch when it was obvious you’d reached a conclusion. 

“Sex.” You stated matter-of-factly at the same time the first sound of a walker clumsily stumbling into the side of the cabin brought both your gazes to the door. You could barely see one another now, day having given way to night several moments ago and your one candle giving the place a gentle orange hue that neither of you sought to complain about when it was dancing across the skin of the other. There were no windows but the archer wondered if the light could be seen through the cracks in the old door, barricaded as it was. 

When the snarls and shuffling continued to pass you by, you looked to him again. Daryl was looking at the floor, any expression hidden behind the curtain of his hair. You remained quiet. He had heard you, so you would wait him out. Pushing would only make him withdraw. You sat back on your hip and pulled the dusty blanket up to cover yourself for the time being. If sex really did make him uncomfortable, having a conversation about it with your goodies saluting him from the bed would not help matters. 

“Yeah.” Daryl finally spoke after a few more moments. “S’not just—” he paused to shift his weight from one foot to the other, “just ain’t never been important ‘less Merle was chasin’ some tail. A distraction’s all it were.” He sighed, crossing his arms with his hands in his armpits. He looked so uncomfortable that it made your heart ache. 

You nodded, not even sure if he was looking at you. “When was the last—”

“‘Fore the world went to shit.”

A while then. You chewed the inside of your cheek. You suddenly felt too exposed, pulling the blanket up further. Where do you go from here? With another glance at him, there was another sharp twinge in your chest. For a man made for the end of the world, he appeared incredibly small and vulnerable right now. “Will you come sit down?”

From the way he angled his head, you could tell he looked at you. A heartbeat passed and he dropped his arms, his footfalls near silent as he approached the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight and you found he chose to sit surprisingly close to you. Your knees were barely pressed against his hip. 

You were still utterly naked under that old blanket; your heartrate had picked up speed at his proximity. You couldn’t tell if you were anxious or aroused and you wondered if you should get dressed and deal with the latter on your own once you returned home instead of pressing him further. “Do you want to keep talking about this?” You gently probed. 

“Not really,” was his immediate response. Your mouth opened to comfort him but he cut you off. “Guess we have to, though.”

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Nah, s’okay. D’rather talk to you ‘bout it than anyone else.” 

You smiled softly and felt confident enough to reach for his hand. Your movement brought his head to turn toward you and he didn’t flinch away when your fingertips brushed his. After a moment, your tongue darted out to wet your lips and you took a breath. “Since the end, have you ever, you know? With yourself?” 

He seemed to deflate, the shake of his head so minute that you would have missed it had you not been so keenly observing him. 

“Do you ever have the urge to?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Somethin’s wrong with me.”

“Daryl.” He looked up at you, blue eyes piercing through his dark hair. It hit you like a freight train. “There is nothing wrong with you.” You could only imagine how he must have felt around his brother. How isolated, how different. You wondered if he had ever told his brother, but decided against asking. “A lot of people just aren’t that into sex, old world and new one.” His steady gaze never wavered. You smiled and let go of his hand to brush his hair away from his left eye before wrapping your fingers around his once again. “You’re just Daryl. And that’s more than okay.”

“Huh.” He muttered after a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours. 

“If it’s okay to ask though,” you ventured. Your bottom lip tucked firmly between your teeth, you squeezed his hand, “how were you feeling just now? With me?” You added with a shaky breath. He didn’t retreat, so that was good. You still didn’t want to push him into anything he didn’t want, but rather help him figure out what it was he did want; sort through his feelings. If he turned you down, you would be disappointed, of course. But his comfort, his safety, and well-being; those came first. If you could never have him in that way, you would live with that. 

“I, uh—it weren’t a bad feelin’.”

So it was a good feeling? Maybe? Shit. Now what? “Okay, okay.” you nodded. “Do you want to call it a night then and just—”

“No.”

His hand squeezed yours so fast that you nearly squeaked in surprise. You did, however, let go of the blanket you held against your chest with the other hand. “Sorry,” you mumbled, pulling the fabric up once again before Daryl grabbed your wrist. You watched him chew on his lip, his eyes overflowing with something you had never seen there before. 

“Wanna try. I‘ve wanted to try with ya for a long time.” His Adam’s Apple bobbed while he swallowed around the words. “If ya ain’t changed your mind.” The statement came out more like a question, his voice quieter with a slight tremble. 

I‘ve wanted ta try with ya fer a long time.

You felt the swirling motion of butterflies in your stomach, your heartrate skyrocketing as you allowed the blanket to fall. Moving slowly, you twisted your wrist in his grip to clasp his hand and pressed forward to throw a leg over his lap. Sitting on his thighs, you gently took hold of both his hands and placed them on the curve of your hips. “We’ll take this slow, okay?” You reached to push back his hair so his eyes were visible. He gave a jerky nod, fingers twitching against your skin. 

“Alright.”

You cupped his face and brought your mouths together once again. This time, there was no hesitance when you opened up to him and beckoned his tongue. The gentle push and pull of the kiss lasted until the need for air became dire, and Daryl pulled away from you only to ghost open-mouthed whispers across your jaw and down to your pulse. Your fingers moved to his hair again and your head fell back, offering the expanse of your throat to him. He nipped and lapped at the flesh between your ear and the junction of your shoulder, earning a breathy moan when he latched on to tattoo a kiss onto the surface. The archer couldn’t help but shiver and moved his hands to splay them open across your spine, tipping you so his mouth could properly explore the valley between your breasts. 

His tongue and lips wandered aimlessly, and he found himself perfectly content in connecting the myriad of freckles that were littered across there. He found all of them adorable, especially the ones that traveled around the rims of your ears. Maybe he’d tell you that one day soon. Like this, he could almost forget the anxiety attempting to claw its way through his ribcage and get lost in warmth of your skin beneath his lips and at the mercy of his tongue. He moved slowly, probably too slowly but eh, he was rusty. He barely remembered any of the other experiences and, truthfully, he didn’t care to in the least. He would be more than fine pretending they had never happened.

“Daryl.”

He shivered at the sound of his name falling from those lips. The same ones that were parted and panting while fingers twisted in his hair, urging him onward. He kissed across the swell of your right breast, tongue teasing a circle around the nipple before he pulled it between his teeth and bit down. The sound you made was intoxicating and he was plenty willing to elicit more of the same from you just before he felt your hips press down and grind against him, successfully making him see stars and release his hold on you in favor of hissing between his teeth. 

Feeling him go rigid, you sat up straight, breathing heavily. “What’s wrong?” You panted, tucking his hair behind his ears while searching his face for answers. “Are you okay?” 

Daryl blinked a few times before finally realizing you were talking to him in close proximity. “Uh—yeah. Yeah, m’fine.”

You narrowed your eyes. He was still completely tense, his fingers digging into your back with enough force to bruise. “Do you want to stop?” 

“No. S’just—”

“Just what?” You watched him closely. So far, he’d yet to move but then his hands were sliding down your back to firmly grasp your hips and— “Oh. Oh!” Sudden understanding rang clear when proof of his desire for you could be felt through the fabric of his trousers. Your brain warred between smugness and sympathy. You had made him feel that way but it had been so long that it had taken him by surprise. “What do you want to do from here?” Whisking away a section of hair that had fallen back into his face, you otherwise remained still. 

“Get up.” He stated hoarsely. It came out a little rougher than he’d meant, but you’d obeyed so he wouldn’t linger on it. 

You sat in the center of the bed and watched him stand. You were grateful for what little you had done, for the things he had shared with you. If this was how he chose to end the scenario, you would smile and support him fully. There could be a next time. He was obviously attracted to you. This was enough. Whatever he felt comfortable giving you was enough. 

Crawling to the top of the old bed, you pulled down the covers on the other side before reaching for your discarded clothing. You stopped less than halfway through the motion when you heard the zipper of his pants. Looking back to him, you found him toeing off his boots while his undone trousers remained on his hips. For the moment. 

“Daryl?”

“C’mere.” He beckoned you with a finger, curling it under your chin as you crawled closer. The archer bent to meet you halfway and captured your lips in a desperate embrace, pushing down his trousers and stepping out of them. The kiss continued even as he struggled to remove one sock at a time, balancing on one leg and causing you to giggle against his mouth. “Shuddup.” He retorted with no real heat. Finally both hands came to cradle your face and gently pull your back. 

“You okay?” You slurred, eyes dark and lips swollen. 

“Yeah.” Daryl tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, trying to catch his breath as he took a moment to just drink you in. “S’not gonna be—”

“I don’t care.” Careful to keep your eyes on his face, you guided him to sit with his back against the headboard, throwing a leg across his lap to hover over him. It would be over quickly. That was a given. But that wasn't the point. “I want whatever you’ll give me, Dixon.” You kissed him gently. “I just want you.”

“Yeah?” The corners of his mouth twitched up into a ghost of a smile. “Ya got me, woman.” 

You both groaned as you lowered onto him, Daryl’s face twisting into such a grimace of barely contained pleasure that you were surprised it wasn’t already over for him. “You good?” Your voice sounded small and breathless even to your own ears, but Daryl’s didn’t seem to be working at all. He gave a jerky nod and pulled you toward him, your foreheads meeting as you both breathed through the new feeling. “Let’s just—stay like this for now, yeah?” Another barely there nod, bumping your heads together. 

Your eyes drifted toward the wall when a walker stumbled into the building. Daryl flinched but didn’t move.  It was hard to ignore a threat that close but as long as you remained quiet, that wall would remain between you and the undead shambling along outside. 

Another tender kiss to his lips before you trailed along his jaw, feeling him exhale shakily against your neck. You allowed your mouth to roam further, your tongue dipping out to taste the salt of his skin over his pulse. You could feel it racing away there, almost vibrating. His fingers flexed on your hips, his breaths now coming in shallow pants. There was a slight tremble to his frame making it clear you couldn’t remain this way much longer lest he combust. You pulled away, cupping his face for your thumbs to gently rub over his cheekbones. You didn’t need to say anything. He nodded in spite of the silence. 

Your breath caught in your throat when you moved, releasing as a low moan as your eyes fluttered closed. He felt sublime. Judging by the choked off noise that came from Daryl, he was feeling exactly the same about you. You kept your movements slow and deliberate. Soon enough, he was rocking up to meet you. 

“You, I—” He was gritting his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead and running down to his chin to drip onto his chest. Still rocking, you placed your finger over his lips and then replaced it with your own. 

“I know. It’s okay.” You whispered. He pushed back on your hips, moving you off of him. You wrapped your fingers around him, pumping in slow, languid strokes. There was a mere heartbeat before he gathered you against him with your arm trapped between you, every muscle and tendon frozen hard in blissful agony with a breathy moan of your name against your shoulder. Oh, how you wished you could see his face as he came undone. His warmth flooded over your hand and onto both your stomach and his, his hold unyielding even as his body twitched and shook while you gently coaxed him down from his high with hushed reassurances and tender kisses against his neck. When the spasms stopped and his hold loosened, you gave him a few moments of just resting against you to catch his breath while your fingers carded idly through his hair. 

“How're you doing, Dixon?” You broke the silence with a calm whisper, slightly leaning away to encourage him to move. Daryl carefully laid back against the headboard, eyes still closed and looking more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. “Hey.”

His tired blue eyes slowly opened, blinking lazily before settling on you. “Hey.” When he brought up a hand to graze his knuckles over your cheek, it seemed to be too heavy for him to hold long. His arm fell back to the bed a moment later. “M’sorry.” He mumbled, a furious blush deepening the color of his already flushed face. 

“For?”

He scoffed. “Obvious, ain’t it?” 

“It was perfect.” When he grunted in response, you laughed quietly. You smiled, kissed his cheek, then you crawled off of him. Before he could even focus on the mess left behind, you had returned with a packet of WetWipes from your pack. They were expired and not very damp but got the job done. 

It was hard not to focus on your touch while you worked, so he opted to reach for a strand of your hair, curling it around his finger tightly. You carried on cleaning both of you up like it was just a natural thing, Daryl’s face reddening once again when you went about wiping him down like you had seen him naked a hundred times. 

He leaned toward you to reach for your shoulder, sliding his fingertips over your warm skin. You grasped his hand to press a gentle but chaste kiss to his palm before standing to retrieve your clothes. You were smiling when you turned back. 

You were pulling your shirt down over your head as Daryl fastened his belt and sat down on the mattress to lace up his boots. Sleeping naked was not an option when beyond the walls of your home unless you didn’t mind leaving those things behind and showing up at the gates in the nude. 

Opting to leave your jacket on the floor, you crawled up to the pillow and laid down. Daryl did the final checks to make sure everything was secure and then returned to sit against the headboard, clearly offering to take first watch. For a man that had just experienced his first orgasm in years, he sure was tense. 

“Why don’t I take first?” You offered. You climbed up to mimic his position. Daryl looked like he might argue but soon nodded and moved down the bed putting his left arm behind his head.  

Finding just a smidge of courage, you reached over to toy with a long strand of his hair. “So.”

“So?” He titled his head back a little to look up at you. 

“That a—one time thing?” 

The archer lowered his head again, looking back to the ceiling directly above him. “Did ya want it to be?”

“Nope.” 

“Then it weren’t.” 

“Good.” 

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Do it again in the mornin’?”

“Absolutely.”

[pucksandpower]

is there a possibility of a part two on the mv1 vegas wedding, perhaps how they might have church wedding ? 🥹🥹 it was just so sickly sweet, i cant get enough of it 🤧🫶

There is definitely a possibility of a part two (though this is a little shorter than my usual work so we can also just call it a second epilogue)

Read part one here: What Happens in Vegas

You stand in front of the floor length mirror, smoothing your hands over the flowing white dress. Today you’re finally getting the real wedding you missed out on during that wild night in Vegas.

A pair of tiny hands suddenly grab at the tulle skirts of your dress. You look down to see your flower girl and daughter, two-year-old Vega, grinning up at you.

“Mama pwetty!” She declares. You scoop her up and kiss her cherub cheek.

“Why thank you, my love! But not as pretty as you in your special dress.”

Vega giggles and squirms to be put down so she can toddle around in her poufy flower girl outfit. You take a deep breath, heart swelling with love for your family.

A knock at the door announces your father’s arrival. “Knock knock! Ready to go become Mrs. Verstappen again?”

You take Vega’s hand and turn to your dad with a radiant smile. “Absolutely. How do I look?”

Your father presses a hand to his heart. “Oh honey ... you look absolutely beautiful. Max is going to bawl his eyes out.”

You laugh, feeling a few happy tears prick your own eyes. “Let’s just hope that Daniel doesn’t mess up his lines too badly. Did you see the Elvis costume he was begging to wear?”

Your father chuckles. “Don’t worry, I talked him into a normal tux. He promised to be on his most professional behavior as officiant today.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you joke. “Really though, thank you for standing by me through all the craziness these past few years. I’m so glad we’re finally doing this for real.”

He pulls you into a careful hug so as not to wrinkle your dress. “I’m just so happy for you and Max. Now come on, let’s get you married again!”

The ceremony is being held outside at a gorgeous vineyard, rows of vines dripping with grapes serving as the perfect backdrop. Your heartbeat quickens as the music swells and Vega heads down the aisle, haphazardly tossing rose petals from her little basket.

Then it’s your turn.

On your father’s arm, you glide towards the floral archway where a nervous but beaming Max waits. The love shining from his eyes when he sees you takes your breath away all over again.

Daniel stands at his side looking polished in his suit, though his hair maintains its signature wild curls. He winks at you as you take your place across from Max beneath the arch.

“Family and friends,” Daniel begins, “we are gathered here today to witness the renewal of vows between Y/N and Max. Their first wedding may have been, shall we say, unconventional—”

“You mean drunk and hasty!” Someone calls out. Laughter ripples through the guests.

Daniel grins. “Yes, thank you Lando. But today we celebrate Y/N and Max formalizing their union after three wonderful years of marriage.”

He turns to Max. “Do you, Max, reaffirm your vow to love and cherish Y/N as your lawfully wedded wife, in plenty and want, in joy and sorrow, so long as you both shall live?”

Max gazes into your eyes. “I do, absolutely.”

Daniel repeats the question to you. You blink back joyful tears. “I do, with all my heart.”

“Wonderful!” Daniel says. “Now, the couple has prepared their own vows to share today.”

He gestures to Max, who clears his throat and takes both your hands in his.

“Y/N, that crazy night in Vegas, I never could have imagined where it would lead us. The past two years as your husband have been the best of my life. Every day with you and our daughter is a gift.”

Max’s voice cracks with emotion. “You are my rock, my inspiration, my very best friend. Thank you for taking a chance on me then and choosing to recommit to our partnership today.”

He dabs at his eyes as Daniel prompts you for your vows. You have to take a steadying breath around the balloon of love swelling in your chest.

“Max, what can I say? You’ve turned this reckless whim into the love story of a lifetime. Being your wife and mother of your child are the greatest honors I could imagine.”

You squeeze his hands, voice thick with feeling. “You challenge me, support me, and make me laugh and love more than I ever thought possible every single day. I vow to keep racing into the future with you by my side.”

There’s not a dry eye left as Daniel concludes the ceremony. “By the power vested in me by BecomeAnOfficiantIn20Minutes dot com, I now pronounce you man and wife … again!”

Max sweeps you into a deep kiss as your loved ones erupt into cheers. Vega toddles up to tug on your dress, wanting in on the family hug. You scoop her up and press kisses all over her face as Max wraps his arms around you both.

It’s a perfect moment.

The reception is a joyful and hilarious blur. At one point Max pulls you aside, nodding to where Vega is passed out in her godfather Christian’s arms after tiring herself out dancing.

“Can you believe we made that perfect little girl together?” Max murmurs.

You shake your head wonderingly. “She’s the best surprise to come out of that crazy night.”

Max kisses your temple. “I would marry you a hundred more times if it means I got to relive this journey with you over and over.”

You lean into him contentedly. However unorthodox the start of your relationship was, you’ve built an incredible life together.

And it’s only just beginning.

[thestoryofusstan]

Look Into His Angel Eyes

pairing: harry styles x zoologist!youtuber!reader

summary: harry takes his niece to the san diego zoo, and you just so happen to take care of the animal she’s obsessed with. koalas.

warnings: zero knowledge of zoology LMAO, not edited, a few curse words

—

harry had expected a lot more fuss when he went to a very famous, very popular zoo. he expected at least someone — one person! — to notice him or recognize him.

nobody had even given him a second glass.

those kids movies were right. change your har (put on a beanie) and wear sunglasses (because even if it was a little chilly, it was bright), and you were a whole different person!

well, until gemma’s little girl, rosie, who was usually a gem and the best kid ever, started crying. over what, you may ask?

she demanded they find the koalas.

granted, she was only five, but.. he was still worried people would see him and recognize him.

when he had graciously offered to drive rosie to san diego to go to the zoo because gemma simply didn’t have the time, he forgot it was a public, normal people zoo.

so, he asked someone where the koalas were (and then four more people after that on the way there, all of which informed him that he better hurry if he wanted to catch the koala talk, which was supposedly a big hit for some reason), and made his way to the other side of the zoo.

who the hell made this place so big?

—

you’d been living in san diego for five years, since you were eighteen. you’d been working with the koalas at the san diego zoo for that same amount of time.

18 and fresh out of high school, you moved far, far away from your horrible hometown and even more horrible people, and went to san diego to both go to college for zoology and work your dream job.

well, technically, it was an internship at first, but still!

like most little girls, you were obsessed with animals. however, instead of dogs or some other basic animal (though, koalas are still pretty basic, you suppose), you were obsessed with koalas. and then, it never went away.

your mother tried anything to talk you out of it, into a safer career path, she’d say. more secure.

well, fuck secure because you were about to go talk to little kids who were just like you when you were younger and feed a baby koala.

you had also started a successful side career as a youtuber. you made regular videos like vlogs and hauls and whatnot, and also educational videos about koalas. some of your vlogs were at work, such as today.

“so.. we have jess here to record as i do a koala talk. and.. it is officially 1:30, so let’s go!” you exclaim, handing your coworker, jess, the camera.

you pushed open the door (more like gate) and walked out. there was a fairly large crowd today, including the cutest little girl with a pink dress on right in the front row.

you set the crate (don’t yell, it’s a big crate. and it’s simply to take them from their exhibit to the talk area, which is a distance of maybe 50 feet) down on the wooden table.

the talk area was pretty much their enclosure, but instead of a glass wall, it was open and the kids could see better.

you opened the crate and slowly coaxed the bears out. you’d only brought two today. mila, and her baby charlotte (you always called her charlie, though).

once they were out and climbing on the branches, you turned to the crowd.

“hi, guys! my name is y/n, and i’m basically in charge of the koalas here! who here has been to one of my talks before?”

a few hands raise.

“good! well, today, we have a new guest… who remembers what was happening with mila last talk? was anyone there?”

one little boy raised his hand.

“yes, the.. little boy in a blue shirt?”

“jackson!” he told you.

“jackson, sorry. what was going on with mila? for everyone who doesn’t know, mila is that big one right there.”

“she was— she had a baby in her tummy.”

“she did!” you respond enthusiastically. “and a few months ago.. four months ago, actually, she had her baby! who wants to meet her?”

all the little kids screamed me! me! me!

you laughed, “alright, let me grab her.”

you walked over to mila, petting her head as you slowly took charlie away.

“hey, mila.. can i take her real quick?” you ask as if she can hear you, before speaking to the crowd. “mila and i have a special bond, if you ask me. she had her baby right around the time i had mine. so we are both new mothers,” you laugh. “but, anyway! i’ve been with mila since she got here, so she really trusts me. which is why i can easily just..”

you grabbed charlie off of mila, and put her on her shoulder like you did your baby.

“so, everyone, this is charlotte, but i call her charlie! now, i have a very special job for one of you.. but i need someone who will be very careful, because charlie is still a delicate baby.. can anyone hold her for me while i feed her?”

and finally, the adorable little girl interacted. she started jumping and raised her hand.

you walked over to the fence separating you from the crowd, crouching to be eye level with her. “and who might you be?”

“rosie!” she responded. and oh, she had a baby voice and she was british.

“rosie! well, do you think you can hold her for me?”

“yes! yes, please!”

“alright, we’ll get you and dad back here—“

“ehm.. uncle..” her uncle, not father, responded in a british accent.

“oh, sorry! you and your uncle back here. and what’s your name, rosie’s uncle?”

he hesitated, before— “harry.”

your brain slowly put two and two together as you glanced at his tattoos.

harry styles.

“oh, i see,” you respond, “well, let’s get you guys back here!”

you opened the gate they were thankfully standing right in front of, and they walked into the talking area before you shut the gate.

you led rosie to the center, crouching down to her again.

“alright, we’re gonna do this in a funny way. can you stick out your arm for me?”

she did.

“i’m gonna put charlie on your arm, alright? she’s gonna wrap herself around it, and her claws might scratch you, but it’s fine, yeah?”

“yes, ma’am!”

“aw, you’re so polite. alright.. charlie incoming!”

you slowly adjusted charlie to curl around rosie’s arm.

“it tickles!” she squeals with a laugh.

“yeah?” both you and harry — harry styles — respond at the same time.

“alright, i’m gonna grab her bottle! stay here!”

you ran over to grab it, and while you were shaking it so it was ready, you felt something wrap around your leg.

“hi, mila!” you exclaim to the koala wrapped around you.

you carefully walk back over.

“i’m gonna feed her for a minute, and then i’ll let you and your uncle try, yeah?”

“okay!”

you started feeding charlie as you spoke again.

“so, the reason we feed charlie instead of having her feed from her momma, who is clinging to my leg, is because charlie was born a little early and needs a little more nutrients!”

you talked a little more about koalas and their behavior before rosie wanted to feed her. and after a few minutes of that, you glanced to harry.

“you wanna give it a go?”

“sure, why not,” he shrugs.

“charlie seems pretty cozy.. so, i’ll give you mila. she’s a little heavy, though.”

you bent over and took mila off your leg, handing her over to harry.

“hold her like a baby on your hip.. it’s kinda like a.. odd hug! a koala hug, if you will. i’ll grab her bottle.”

you ran over, and when harry began feeding her after you returned, he asked a question.

“so.. why do y’feed mila? i know charlie’s a baby and all, but..”

“that’s a very good question! so, mila is getting a little old, and she was also brought to us injured. that, paired with giving birth four months ago, we just have to give her some more electrolytes… her bottle is actually just white gatorade. we tried green, but she hates it. she’s very picky.”

“well, that’s cause y’gave her green.”

“hey! who has the degree here? yeah, shush.”

“yes, ma’am,” he laughed.

—

once the talk was over, you told rosie and harry to stay back.

you let charlie and mila climb about the branches while you spoke to them.

“i just want to make sure you both are alright with being in a video.. also, you need to wash your hands.. jess should be back with the sanitizer soon.”

“can i ask what video?”

“oh! right, sorry. i’m a youtuber, and i sometimes film my talks to publish and whatnot. i’ll blur your faces, of course. i blur everyone in the crowd’s faces for privacy reasons, but i figured you’d be.. more.. concerned about that than most.”

“you know?”

“i mean.. voice is a giveaway.. i also follow gemma’s instagram, so i recognized rosie,” you shrug. “but anyways, you’re good with the video?”

“yeah, of course.”

you then turned to rosie to answer her bajillion questions about koalas until jess came back with the hand sanitizer.

“so, just use a lot of this, and you’ll be good,” you explain, putting a few pumps into each of their hands.

once they were all clean of koala germs, you told them they were free to go.

rosie ran forward, but harry lingered.

“thank you,”

“oh, yeah. of course. i figured you wouldn’t want koala germs—“

“no, i mean thanks for giving rosie that opportunity.”

“oh! of course. i love seeing little kids who love them as much as me.”

“she’s bloody obsessed with the things.”

“mm, yeah. they’re easy to love. word of advice, don’t shoot her love for them down. it doesn’t exactly work. i mean.. look at me,” you laugh.

“i will keep that in mind,” he smilez. “what was your name again?”

“y/n.. y/n l/n.”

—

a/n: enjoy

[paintingwhiteceilings]

❃Seventeen and s/o switches languages during an argument❃

a/n: Firstly, thank you for sending my very first request; I hope I did it justice! After discussing it together, we decided to make it a more general prompt. This was such a fun prompt to try my hand at, as a fellow EU carat, it was amusing to imagine how they would react to their partner switching languages. Some of these may have become a bit, more like very, long as a result so, well, grab your popcorn I suppose :')

Anyway, it is a bit longer and more serious than my other posts but I hope that you will like it regardless!

TG: some of these are slightly angsty and DK is naked

Scoups/Seungcheol

❀ In all fairness, the two of you tend to bicker every now and then, mostly because Coups is the pettiest and poutiest person alive. As a result, you tend to be quite used to having irrelevant arguments with him. Neither of you gets incredibly upset; the arguments are mostly harmless and, at times, can be quite amusing.

❀ This time, however, you had quite a stressful day at work and were in no mood to playfully bicker with him. Apparently, you had absent mindlessly borrowed one of his jackets, and he had been missing it all day, giving Hoshi an earful as he believed he had gone out of his way to borrow his stuff again. After he discovered that Hoshi hadn't been the culprit, he texted you, but in the chaos of work, you had forgotten to reply, leaving him on read. Truly, in his eyes, how incredibly offensive. How can his love, his light, his everything leave him on read just like his members do???

❀ Cue a ton of whining and pouting when you walked through the door, wrapped in his precious jacket. He didn't seem to get the hint that you were in no mood for his dramatic antics. It didn't take long for you to snap at him, effectively shutting him up. He didn’t shut up, however, because you actually got angry at him, but because you unconsciously switched to your native tongue in your exhaustion. He had forgotten that was a thing you could do.

❀ He has dealt with the foreign line switching languages during arguments enough to know that you weren't having his tantrum. It is enough for him to realize to knock it off, but he will be pouting the rest of the evening. Not because he is still upset about the jacket, but because he has no idea what you said and he is too prideful to ask until the next morning.

Jeonghan

❀ Jeonghan rarely gets mad at people, meaning that arguments between the two of you tend to be infrequent. The only times the two of you tend to bicker is when he finds yet another way to cheat during game nights. The cheating is all in good fun, and more often than not, you find yourself impressed with his quick-wittedness. 

❀ That being said, losing five times in a row because your boyfriend found another loophole in the game rules really tested your patience. You had been playing Uno together when he decided that whenever he plays the reverse card, it means he gets to go again. Somehow, he stocked up on a ton of reverse cards, and he had been getting rid of most of his cards without you being able to do anything about it. 

❀ Naturally, you started arguing with him, trying to convince him that it was against the rules. It was no use; he knows the rules better than you do. Thus, in the heat of the moment, you couldn’t help yourself, and you cursed at him in your native tongue. He was mighty confused for a second, but was aware from looking at your face that you were not complimenting his quick thinking.

❀ He ended up laughing at you, finding it hilarious that he somehow managed to trigger you that much. Be prepared for him to never let you live it down. Every game night, he will cheekily ask you whether it is okay for him to cheat or whether you will curse at him in your native tongue again. From now on, he will up his cheating antics as well, trying to get a rise out of you again. 

Joshua

❀ You and Joshua usually don't let your grievances get to a shouting match. Before it can get to that point, one of you sits the other down to calmly talk things out. However, every once in a while, whenever one of you is stressed about something, things tend to escalate. So when Joshua comes home late after a gruelling recording session for the sixth time that week, leaving you to do all the house chores after a stressful work day yet again, you get into a heated argument.

❀ Neither of you wanted to admit to being in the wrong, leading to you bickering back and forth. Joshua had been angrily smiling at you for the past half an hour, trying to explain his side of the story, whilst you were trying to do the same. Arguing in Korean wasn't necessarily your strong suit, and despite English being a lot easier, you couldn't help but switch to your native language as you were trying to find the right words to explain your side of the story.

❀ To be honest, I can't really imagine Joshua being surprised when you switch languages during an argument. Having lived in an environment where he has to speak a second language constantly, he probably is all too aware that when people get emotional, they switch to their mother tongue. He has had too many quarrels and fights with the other members where he kept throwing in English, unable to remember the corresponding Korean word.

❀ Instead, your argument becomes a poly-lingual discussion where the two of you keep switching between all the languages you are familiar with. Joshua doesn't even blink when you switch to your native language anymore; he is used to deciphering what you are saying through context clues.

Jun

❀ Jun is an absolute homebody. He loves to lounge on the couch for hours with his phone in hand, playing mobile games and scrolling on social media. It is the perfect way for him to de-stress after his busy schedule, where he has to constantly be on the move. Usually, you enjoy the domesticity of it, but lately, you can't help but feel like all the two of you have been doing is staying at home. It isn’t like you constantly want to be out and about, but a part of you wants to go on a proper date where you get to dress up and be lovey-dovey with your boyfriend. You have been trying to find the right time to bring it up, aware that Jun doesn’t do well with subtle hints.

❀ However, when the day finally came where you asked him to go on more dates, it ended up in you two fighting. It had all started when you found yourself bored out of your mind with Jun being on his phone again, absorbed in his own world. For the first time in a while, he got to enjoy a bit of a break as promotions had finally ended, and he intended to spend most of it relaxing on the couch. It was a much-needed break from the constant dancing and travelling. Naturally, when you proposed to go out for the day, asking whether he wanted to check out a café that had just opened up in the city, he immediately responded that he didn’t want to.

❀ Perhaps both of your fuses had been short that day, and soon an argument ensued between you two. Jun stubbornly maintained that he wanted to rest and that being at home together was enough for him, whilst you tried to explain that you felt like he didn’t want to make time for your relationship. The two of you argued back and forth, both making valid arguments but unwilling to hear the other out.

❀ Jun was already mixing some Mandarin with his Korean as he got more and more frustrated. It didn’t help either that Jun had started to speak quicker the more agitated he got, making it even harder for you to decipher what he was trying to say. Thus, as the fight reached a boiling point, you started to yell at him in your native language. Jun had never heard you speak your mother tongue at length before, so you completely caught him off guard.

❀ Jun doesn't know what to say in response to your yelling, not knowing what you yelled at him in the heat of the moment. Similarly, you are surprised at your emotional outburst. You switching languages is enough for the both of you to realize that neither of you was listening to the other anymore. After a moment of silence, the two of you decide to leave the argument for the night and calmly talk about it after a good night's sleep.  

Hoshi/Soonyoung

❀ Hoshi has been trying to convince you that his native language is growling, being a tiger, and all that. As much as you try to support your boyfriend’s tiger agenda, you have attempted to dissuade him from growling at you constantly as a way of communicating. You gently told him to stop as, first of all, you can't understand what he is trying to say when he is growling, and, secondly, it is very embarrassing when he does it in public.

❀ Still, he is waiting to find any excuse to growl at you, and you have noticed that whenever you slip into your mother tongue, he sees it as a green light to start. As a result, you try to be extra careful about using your native language around him in public or when other people are visiting. At home, you feel comfortable enough to, at the very least, scold him without anyone else having to bear witness to how shameless this man can be.

❀ It had all gone downhill when you and Hoshi organized a game night with the other members. It wasn't the actual game night that resulted in you yelling at him. Oh no, it had to do with the fact that Kwon Soonyoung has the habit of leaving the toilet seat up despite you having asked, on multiple occasions, whether he could lower it after he finished his business. For the past few days, he had been doing a good job remembering, but with all the excitement of the game night, it had slipped his mind. He was reminded, however, of his mistake upon hearing a splash and a blood-curdling scream leave the bathroom door.

❀ You were livid upon entering the living room and reminded your boyfriend yet again to lower the god-damn thing. In your anger, you slipped into your native tongue without being aware of doing so. You didn't even register it until you saw Hoshi's stunned and guilty expression morph into one of absolute delight.

❀ He growls. At you. In response.

❀ It is safe to say that the other members have to hold you back before you kill your boyfriend.

Wonwoo

❀ Usually, you loved having a gamer boyfriend as it meant that you got to focus on your own hobbies, happily existing in the same space without having to constantly have to do things together. Lately, however, you had been trying your hand at some of the games he had been playing. It was a fun pastime, and you especially liked games that didn’t require a fast reaction time, allowing you to explore a world or story at your own pace without it resulting in you constantly dying. Not to pat yourself on the back, but you had become quite skilled at the games you often played. Recently, you and Wonwoo had even started to play games together; you couldn’t help but smile whenever you saw your joined beds in Minecraft.

❀ So, when Wonwoo asked you to play Keep Talking & Nobody Explodes together, you had expected the two of you to do rather well. However, it couldn’t be further from what ended up transpiring. The game required seamless communication, with one person trying to disarm a bomb whilst the other consulted a manual on how to, unable to see the actual bomb. The first level had been easy enough, but you guys immediately got stuck on the second level. Each level was more complicated than the last one and was making your way through the game rather painfully slow. For some reason, your communication was completely off, resulting in numerous retries. It didn’t even matter who the operator or who the bomb disarmer was; you simply couldn’t get into sync.

❀ You could tell that Wonwoo was getting incredibly agitated when you were taking way too long to read the Korean instructions to him, unable to understand one particular word, causing the bomb to explode yet again. He had played the game with some of the members before, and it hadn’t been this hard. It didn’t help that he kept trying to give you tips and tricks on how to play the game. It felt a bit condescending. Moreover, you could tell he was partly blaming your Korean when he sighed yet again at another failed attempt due to you fumbling over your words. It wasn’t as if this was only your fault. As a result, you snapped at him that he should try to play in your native tongue and see how easy of a time he had with it. Except, you accidentally snapped at him in the wrong language.

❀ As you continue rambling under your breath, venting to yourself that your boyfriend and the game are both stupid, you don’t notice that you switched languages. Wonwoo, in the meantime, has fallen incredibly quiet, unsure how to react. He realizes that it might have been a bit unfair to play a game that requires you to communicate complicated instructions in Korean. When you are finally done ranting in your native language, he will quietly propose playing a different game, muttering a quiet apology when you two agree to switch to Stardew Valley. He makes sure to give you lots of gifts in-game, trying to show that he appreciates you playing with him even if it doesn’t always work out well.

Woozi/Jihoon

❀ You were aware that when you started dating Woozi that he was a bit of a workaholic and that there would be times when he would prioritize his work over your relationship. For the most part, you loved his dedication to producing music; you enjoyed hanging out in his studio, watching how he expertly produced a new track. You always felt in awe as you watched him tinker on the piano, trying to figure out what chords to use for the song. In turn, he loved having you there; your questions and curiosity reminded him of the wonder he felt when he first started producing.

❀ However, his passion for making music sometimes did make you feel like a third wheel in your relationship, especially when a Seventeen comeback was nearing. He would be cooped up in the studio for weeks, ignoring all the messages you send him. Where he normally loved having you around in the studio, he would become easily agitated with you watching over his shoulder as the deadlines neared. The expectations of the members and the company would weigh heavily on him, and having you be there as another watchful eye was simply too much for him to handle.

❀ So, when you went to the studio after a concerned Coups had called you, noticing that Woozi hadn’t bothered to eat that day, your presence put Woozi over the edge. It had been a couple of weeks since you had last seen your boyfriend, and you had hoped that seeing you would cheer him up. However, he barely acknowledged your presence when you stepped into the studio, his attention captured by the screen in front of him. Whenever he did respond, it was often curt and borderline insulting. You knew it was due to him being under a lot of pressure, but you couldn’t help feeling hurt.

❀ It got to you, and before you knew it, the two of you were fighting. Woozi, who already was feeling immense stress, couldn’t deal with the intense emotions and, hence, defensively threw out a painful insult without thinking. Feeling the tears sting in the corner of your eyes, you asked yourself why you were even still here when he obviously didn’t want you there in your native language before turning to leave. He didn’t understand what you had said, leaving him momentarily speechless.

❀ By switching languages unexpectedly, it gets through to Woozi what he had said and how hurt you were by his words. By being unable to understand what you were saying, he is able to solely focus on your tone and emotions. He feels incredibly guilty about his behaviour, and it doesn’t take long for him to chase after you to profusely apologize.

DK/Seokmin

❀ Although fights do not often happen with DK, he sometimes can be a bit prideful, only recognizing he is in the wrong when the other person gets noticeably angry. You encountered his pridefulness on a normal enough day. DK had texted you that he would be over at your place after practice, so when you came home and heard the shower running, you were delighted at the prospect of spending the evening together with your boyfriend. You briefly called out to him that you were home before waiting for him on the couch to finish showering. It didn't take long for him to be done. When you saw the door swing open with your handsome boyfriend only wearing a towel around his waist, you got up to properly greet him with a hug.

❀ However, before you could do so, you smelled a familiar scent drifting out of the bathroom. You see, one of your friends had gifted you a very expensive body wash that you had been gingerly using whenever you had had a particularly stressful day. Due to it being so expensive, you had asked DK to use the other ones in your shower, just so you could enjoy it a little longer, as you weren't really going to buy it for yourself once it ran out. He hadn't listened. Cue one of the pettiest arguments ever.

❀ In your defence, you weren't even upset about him using the body wash, but instead were hurt that he hadn't respected your wishes. DK, in turn, argued that it was only body wash and that he had simply wanted to smell like you. The argument escalated without either of you meaning to, and before you knew it, a towel hit you in the face. In surprise and anger, you yelled at him in your native tongue, which made DK effectively realize what he had done. He knew that you would never switch languages without being incredibly upset and he felt mortified, recognizing that he had not only let his emotions get out of control but also had parted with the only thing covering up his body.

❀ As you threw the towel back at him, venting in your native language some more, you finally noticed DK standing before you in all his glory, looking both guilt-ridden and like he wished for the ground to swallow him whole. Seeing him standing there butt naked was enough for you to crack up, breaking the tension from the argument. DK, on the other hand, wasn't sure whether to profusely apologize for throwing the towel at you or hide for the rest of eternity.

Mingyu

❀ Mingyu often feels like the perfect boyfriend; he loves to cook and clean and lives to pamper you whenever he is able to. He takes your teasing very well, enjoying when you cheekily poke fun at him blatantly showing off his trained physique in front of fans. Although staying in Korea can sometimes be overwhelming, he truly makes you feel right at home. He strives to introduce you to his friends and tries to make as many new memories with you so that you wouldn’t have to miss your home country too much.

❀ When you guys moved in together, you had been ready to have it be another cherished memory. That was until Mingyu dropped a very precious ceramic bowl. The bowl had been a present from your family when you moved out, and you had dragged the bowl with you all the way to Korea. It was a meaningful keepsake you had taken with you from your home country, allowing you to have a piece of home in a foreign place. You had mostly used it as decoration in your previous apartment, and you were incredibly careful when using it, knowing that once it fell, it would be incredibly difficult to replace.

❀ Consequentially, when you watched your boyfriend drop it onto the floor, shattering your treasured keepsake into a thousand pieces, you felt a part of yourself fracture simultaneously. Mingyu didn’t seem to recognize what he had broken, sheepishly apologizing to you before jokingly remarking that the bowl had been rather ugly anyway. You knew he wasn’t aware of what he had broken and that it would be unfair for you to get mad at him, as it had been an accident after all. Nonetheless, seeing something so important to you not only get broken beyond repair but also mocked, set you off.

❀ As a result, you started yelling at a stunned Mingyu, who wasn’t expecting your explosive reaction at all. In turn, he got aggrieved, feeling like your reaction was disproportionate to the situation. Voicing that, however, only made you more upset, and as you tried to pick up the broken pieces to throw them out, you started crying, sobbing to yourself that it truly was beyond repair in your native tongue.

❀ Mingyu, in retrospect, doesn’t know whether it had been your crying or you switching languages, but as he watches you tearfully throw out the pieces, his anger completely vanishes, only to be replaced by an intense feeling of guilt. He will hug you tightly, apologizing for breaking something that had obviously been very important to you. After you explain what the bowl stood for, he will try his hardest to get you another bowl as a surprise, contacting your family to have them send over a new one.

❀ In the end, all is well, and to be honest, you might love the new bowl a lot more as it reminds you of how much Mingyu genuinely treasures you.

The8/Minghao

❀ Minghao and you had decided to go on a wine painting date; you had stumbled upon it not too long ago, excitedly proposing it to your boyfriend, knowing it combined two of his favourite things. Minghao had been looking forward to the date for the past week, feeling giddy despite the exhausting dance practices. He would tell anyone that would listen about the date, gushing over how well his girlfriend knew him.

❀ It was an absolute surprise to both of you when the workshop ended with you arguing. The workshop had started innocently enough, with you guys following the instructions, laughing whenever a brushstroke failed to turn out how you had intended. The wine tasted great, and both of you were amazed that the workshop was pouring such luxurious wine.

❀ However, as the workshop progressed and the teacher made his way past all the other participants to check on their progress, things turned sour pretty quickly. The moment the teacher laid eyes on you, he was enamoured and absolutely oblivious that you were on a date with your boyfriend.

❀ At first, you assumed that the teacher was only being nice when he lingered longer at your station than others. You presumed that he was being friendly and that, with you and Minghao being the last people he needed to check up on, he stayed to kill time until he needed to introduce the next set of instructions. You failed to notice that Minghao had grown awfully quiet as you conversed. When the teacher reached over to guide the paintbrush in your hand, you started to get the hint that the teacher was trying to hit on you.

❀ Minghao, on the other hand, had been noticing the glances from the teacher since the beginning of the workshop. Although he prided himself in rarely being jealous or upset, the wine made it harder for him to let his gnawing feelings go. He knew his anger was unfair and misplaced, but it didn't make him feel any less upset. Even when you gently let the teacher down by telling him that you and your boyfriend could figure it out yourselves from here, the hurtful feeling persisted.

❀ Thus, when you turned to him afterwards to check on why he had been so quiet, only to be met with a curt Minghao, you began arguing. You knew he was jealous, but he had started to take it out on you. Thus, you did the only thing you knew that could possibly cheer your boyfriend up and shake him out of his jealousy. You took his face gently in your hands, rambling sweet nothings in your native tongue.

❀ Minghao loves hearing you speak in your native language to him, feeling like nothing is more intimate than only him being able to understand the sweet nothings you are saying. He will momentarily blank as he tries to process your sweet words. It is enough to melt away his jealous feelings, making him feel a bit stupid for letting it influence his actions and words (as well as any hope the teacher had to get your number afterwards).   

Seungkwan

❀ We all know that Seungkwan likes to nag and tease, not a stranger to playful bickering. Nevertheless, Seungkwan strikes me as someone who is very open with his emotions, preferring to discuss what is bothering him rather than bottling things up. Thus, you two rarely get into actual fights, as he ensures that you two regularly talk about the problems you experience as a couple. At the same time, Seungkwan is a bit of a sensitive boy, and sometimes it is easy to get into arguments with him without either of you meaning to let things escalate. A joke might not land and instead hurts his feelings, leading to an angry and butthurt Boo. 

❀ During some of your playful fights, he noticed that you struggled to keep up with his Korean, switching to your native language in frustration when the Korean escaped you. He couldn’t help but feel slightly bad about you having to constantly accommodate him, which is why he devised a plan. Without you knowing, he spend a significant amount of time online skewering the internet to search for basic sentences, mildly insulting phrases and not-too-harsh curse words that he could use if you guys got into another playful argument. Instead of only you having to struggle in Korean, he felt it was only fair for him to wrestle with your native tongue as well.

❀ He finally gets to use it when you guys have a heated discussion over which coffee is the best on one of your many coffee dates; he keeps maintaining that Iced Americano is the best coffee that exists, something that you wholeheartedly disagree with. At first, you are able to respond to him in Korean, easily countering his arguments. However, as the discussion progresses, you can’t help but feel like Seungkwan intentionally is using advanced and eloquent Korean, using words you have never heard before. It doesn’t take long before you start switching out Korean for your native language, trying to hold your ground in the discussion.

❀ It is kind of comical when Seungkwan whips out a list of standard phrases, curse words and insulting sentences in your language, way too eager to use them. Rather than you surprising him by switching languages unconsciously, he is catching you off guard by using your own language against you. He is reading the sentences one by one, and although his pronunciation leaves a lot to be desired, you can tell he put a lot of effort into learning it. You don’t even know whether to be impressed by the fact that he poured so much work into arguing with you in your native language or offended by the, albeit mostly harmless, insults that he is hurling at your head.

Vernon

❀ Vernon strikes me as an emotionally mature person. Therefore, the two of you rarely argue with each other, if at all. Vernon is such a chill guy; it takes a lot to truly get him riled up, and even when he gets emotional, he is capable of maturely handling his emotions. Because of it, you haven’t had any real fights, only mature discussions on how to best navigate whatever problem you two were experiencing in the relationship.

❀ However, there was one thing that you and Vernon could argue for hours about, films. Usually, your film discussions are very civil, with each respecting the other’s opinion even if the other wholeheartedly disagrees. Hence, you guys have made it a routine to put a film on every other night, spending the rest of the evening talking about what you liked or disliked. Both of you enjoyed watching films together in this manner, with the discussions often taking up as much time as watching the films did.

❀ Tonight, however, you made the mistake of putting on a film you adored for nostalgic reasons. The film had been produced in your country, and after searching for it for a while, you had finally found a version with English subtitles. You were incredibly excited to be able to show Vernon the type of films you had grown up with. At first, you thought he was enjoying it; Vernon seemed absorbed as he watched the screen, nodding to himself when he appeared to like a particular scene. Nevertheless, once the film had ended and you eagerly turned to ask him whether he had liked it, he briefly hesitated before calling it mid.

❀ You stared at him in confusion, wondering whether you had been watching the same film. How could he call one of your favourite films mid? Sure, the budget might not have been spectacular compared to a Hollywood blockbuster film, resulting in some questionable CGI and cinematography choices. Still, it was a great film, in your opinion. When you asked him to explain himself, he shrugged, explaining that he simply thought it hadn’t been that good and that both the plot and cinematography left a lot to be desired.

❀ You were greatly offended, and before you knew it, you were heatedly arguing with him. Vernon remained calm rather than matching your energy, explaining that it was okay for you to like a film that just wasn’t his taste. Somehow his indifference annoyed you more, and before you knew it, you were ranting at him that he simply didn’t get how innovative the film was despite the constraints the director had to overcome. Perhaps by being exposed to your native language for such a long time, you brain got reset, and without you being fully aware of it, you had started using your mother tongue. Where before Vernon had been attentively listening, he now seemed lost, alerting you to your accidental mistake.

❀ It was the first time where you had switched languages in his presence, and he realizes that perhaps he had been overly critical. He will gently propose that maybe he was unable to fully enjoy the film as much as you did due to things getting lost in translation. You know he is mostly humouring you, but regardless, it is enough for the one-sided argument to dissipate. How can you stay mad at someone who is the definition of calm and respectful?

Dino/Chan

❀ In retrospect, you should’ve listened to Jeonghan’s warning when you decided to order Soju during dinner. Neither of you had expected to drink, but after a busy workweek, the two of you had decided, “Why the hell not.” You were massively regretting it now, having to deal with a drunk and stubborn Lee Chan.

❀ He refused to do anything you asked of him, and you were practically dragging him through the streets of Seoul, whilst he kept repeating that he wasn’t drunk and could take care of himself. Yeah, sure, he definitely did not keep stumbling over his own feet and was only kept from falling by your grip on his arm. It didn’t help that he kept trying to dislocate himself from you either, claiming that, as your boyfriend, he should be helping you.

❀ It all came to a boiling point when you decided to hail a taxi, too tired and exhausted to continue carrying him. Jeonghan had told you all about stubborn drunk Dino, but you had hoped that you, as his significant other, held enough sway over your boyfriend to coax him into the taxi. Spoiler alert, you didn’t, and instead, the two of you got into an argument. No matter what you said, he kept repeating that he could hail his own taxi. He’s a big boy now.

❀ Maybe it was your sore muscles from carrying him, perhaps it was Dino stupidly refusing your help the entire time or possibly it was the taxi driver warning that he would drive off if the two of you didn’t get in, but suddenly in the midst of your sentence, you switched to your native tongue. In an attempt to get him moving, your tipsy, fuzzy brain resorted to the easiest language for you to yell in. Apparently, that was all it took for Dino to shake himself out of his stubbornness.

❀ The poor guy will be so confused that he’ll easily let you drag him by the arm into the taxi. He can’t determine whether he is truly so drunk that your words have become illegible or that you actually spoke a different language. At the very least, for the time being, you have managed to break through stubbornly drunk Dino, and he lets you guide him whilst he is trying to figure it out in his fuzzy brain.

❀ He will definitely be asking you about it the next morning whilst nursing a massive hangover, thinking it was all a dream.

masterlist

[leclerc-s]

take me back to the city that i call my city, where everybody knows my name

series masterlist

oscar piastri i fear mark is mad at me.

isabella perez i could've told you he would be upset for the 'practical joke' you pulled.

yuki tsunoda ha! and now your mother wants me as her son!

charles leclerc i'm going to die at the hands of mark webber!!

daniel ricciardo-jones don't be silly daniel jones-ricciardo he's going to send someone after you. mark won't get his hands dirty like that. charles leclerc THAT DOESN'T MAKE ME FEEL BETTER?!

ollie bearman does this make charles my grandpa?

lando norris that's wild 26 with a 19-year-old grandson

sebastian vettel this explains the angry 'your spawn stole my kid' text i got from mark

fernando alonso and this also explains the 'you were supposed to keep him out of trouble' text i got charles leclerc and that explains the 'give me my child back anti-christ' text i got

oscar piastri HE CALLED YOU ANTI-CHRIST?

lewis hamilton added one person

charles leclerc HE CALLED ME ANTI-CHRIST! I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?!

mark webber i did no such thing

mark webber sebastian control your spawn.

charles leclerc

mark webber snitch

fernando alonso MULTI-21 SEB!! MULTI-21!!

sebastian vettel you just had to remind him didn't you?

lance stroll last time since a multi-21 inchident is down to 0 again.

lewis hamilton does this make seb satan?

sebastian vettel does this make you an instigator?

isabella perez it sure would be a shame if someone added jenson and nico to spice things up.

lewis hamilton don't you dare isabella juliana perez.

logan sargeant added two people

lewis hamilton logan hunter sargeant what did you do?

jenson button so this is the famous group chat.

charles leclerc WHAT IS AN ANTI-CHRIST??

nico rosberg lewis. lewis hamilton nico.

george russell i thought you two were on good terms?

dulce perez just because they're on 'good terms' doesn't mean they can't tease each other.

mick schumacher the family tree expands.

alex albon oh yes, because according to twitter logan is jenson and nico's son. zoya torres what the fuck do you two do on twitter? george russell i have a power point on the family tree!

nico rosberg i have so many questions

charles leclerc starting with, can daphne play long live tomorrow?

daphne jones-ricciardo can you get pole tomorrow? max jones-verstappen can ferrari not screw you over on sunday? is the better question.

jenson button yikes, you people do not hold back.

charles leclerc IF I GET POLE, will you please do a mashup of yoyok and long live?

daphne jones-ricciardo you've got a deal leclerc

mark webber you people are so weird.

nico rosberg agreed.

jenson button i've met zoya. i know how weird they can get.

zoya torres i know that's an insult but i don't care.

isabellaperez, rhysjones, freyavettel, and zoyatorres have posted new stories

my father-in-law is pole for monaco. everyone say congrats and cheer for a leclerc front-row lockout!! just know that i may be in the rb garage but i will be cheering on this silly little monegasque man. FATHER ON POLE IN MONACO!!! I REPEAT FATHER ON POLE IN MONACO!! LET'S GO!! WE'RE BREAKING CURSES THIS YEAR!!

liked by sukiwaterhouse, danieljonesricciardo, arthur_leclerc and others

nataliaruiz little jules pascale leclerc, named after two of the most important people in charlie's life.

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all comments

charles_leclerc would you look at that, you were right.

↳ nataliaruiz i'm always right charlie

↳ charles_leclerc well, there's that one time-

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 we swore to never speak of that charles!

user06 and suddenly daniel and charles both have another jules they love.

↳ user54 WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT!! NOW I'M CRYING!!

↳ user79 ALL I DO IS CRY ON THE INTERNET!!

zoyatorres the little jewel of our lives

↳ user88 IT WAS RIGHT THERE IN THE NICKNAME ARE WE STUPID?

sukiwaterhouse she gets her charms and looks from you. i don't know what she gets from the french man.

↳ charles_leclerc this is why your daughter looks more like robert than you.

↳ sukiwaterhouse i actually hate you.

↳ charles_leclerc the feeling is mutual

daphnejonesricciardo and what a beautiful little jewel she is

↳ charles_leclerc she's bejeweled one could say

↳ daphnejonesricciardo that's your worst joke yet

benruiz oh look at my beautiful little niece!

↳ nataliaruiz please tell dad to stop crying over her

↳ benruiz he said to leave him alone and let him cry over his only grandchild. she's getting so big.

danieljonesricciardo what a joy it is to be her godfather ❤️

↳ nataliaruiz and what a joy it is to have you as her godfather 🫶🏼

↳ charles_leclerc if i have to hear her cry over unca da, it's over.

↳ danieljonesricciardo i'm just that loveable charlie.

oscarpiastri i have the cutest baby sister

↳ zoyatorres see i would fight you on this but it's true

↳ freyavettel that is very much true (no on tell my siblings)

olliebearman the cutest leclerc!!

liked by charles_leclerc, benruiz, isabellaperez and others

nataliaruiz when we were little kids and anyone asked you, 'what's your biggest dream?' your answer was always the same, 'to become a formula 1 driver and win the monaco grand prix' then you became an f1 driver and your biggest dream was to win the monaco grand prix, to make your country proud, to make your papa proud. year after year, it was disappointment after disappointment, but something changed this year, this year you had hope, more than you've ever had before. this year you told me, 'i'm going to win this. i'm not taking anything less than a win." you finally did it, you broke the 'curse' that had been bestowed upon you. and i am so glad i got to witness you do it.

tagged: charles_leclerc

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charles_leclerc please don't make me cry again. i just stopped.

↳ natalia_leclerc it's a miracle i was able to post this through my tears.

user12 oh great, now i'm crying again.

benruiz listen, i may hate the little shit because he's dating my baby sister, but i'm still fucking proud of him. congrats charles, you deserved this.

↳ benruiz also, please tell my dad to stop crying. he hasn't stopped since you won. ↳ charles_leclerc let him be proud of me for once! ↳ benruiz he literally cries every time you win. shut up?

maejonesverstappen i'm still disappointed i didn't get to witness my best friend win his home race, but still so proud charlie.

↳ charles_leclerc you were there in spirit!!

↳ user98 these two being best friends is everything to me

user64 track menace charles makes his appearance!

user55 this post just reminds me that she's been there for everything. childhood best friends to lovers go hard here.

↳ user07 2018 charles would not believe you if you told him that not only did he end up with the girl he loves but he also won the monaco grand prix ↳ user55 manifestation works children! comment liked by charles_leclerc

oscarpiastri making the family proud 🥲

isabellaperez YEAH!! LIGHTNING MCQUEEN FINALLY WON THE PISTON CUP!!

↳ olliebearman the piston cup is the world championship, not monaco.

↳ isabellaperez LET ME BE PROUD EITHER WAY OLLIE!

rhysjones sorry to my mom and sisters but LET'S FUCKING GO!!!

↳ alex_albon disney child gone wild.

↳ maejonesverstappen rhys, watch your language!

↳ rhysjones says the one married to max emilian jones-verstappen.

rileykeough congrats charles!

↳ charles_leclerc thank you riley!!

sukiwaterhouse congrats, i guess?

↳ charles_leclerc thanks, i guess??

user71 the hand placement makes me feral.

↳ user84 right?? i wasn't aware lechair was that bold

user05 mom and dad on a night out.

↳ user26 imagine a baby pops up nine months from now?

↳ user05 that would be the funniest shit ever. then everyone will know those two really partied

isabella perez i know that i probably know the answer to my question, but how's pato doing?

gael perez completely gutted

oscar piastri we saw the race

fernando alonso oh patito i'm sorry.

pato o'ward shit happens. it's okay.

daphne jones-ricciardo you're allowed to be sad about this.

pato o'ward oh, i'm fucking devastated. it's a miracle i stopped crying.

charles leclerc FLY OUT TO MONACO! WE CAN CELEBRATE YOU EITHER WAY BECAUSE YOU DESERVED THAT FUCKING WIN.

natalia ruiz forgive him, he's drunk. pierre gasly he's fucking shit-faced.

rowan todd i wonder how he's going to see little jewel if he's drunk

charles leclerc NAT! WE HAVE TO GO! I HAVE TO SEE MY DAUGHTER!!

lando norris now he's quite literally crying in the club.

max jones-verstappen oh he's going to regret this so much

mae jones-verstappen about as much as you regret abu dhabi 2021

lewis hamilton i too regret abu dhabi 2021 esteban ocon oh we remember, 'FUCK MIKEY! FUCK THAT IDIOT! AND FUCK NICO TOO!'

nico rosberg what the fuck?

dulce perez if you hadn't won in 2016, lewis would already have his 8th.

jenson button oh my god, please just kiss and make up

mark webber maybe once nico stops thirsting over lewis on live television they can kiss.

nico rosberg i do not thirst. isabella perez sure, and charles isn't currently shitfaced.

pato o'ward why does anyone ever take you people as serious racers?

charles leclerc WE ARE PATITO!! carlos sainz WE ARE SO SERIOUS!! penelope trevino forgive him, he is also shit faced.

arthur leclerc mexicans everywhere are crying because of checo's dnf and pato being robbed.

gael perez i am crying. that's my boyfriend and uncle.

pato o'ward that is true, he hasn't stopped crying. rossi is concerned for him.

dulce perez make sure he drinks lots of water.

pato o'ward on it

daphne jones-ricciardo you people are so much to handle.

daniel jones-ricciardo WIFEY I MISS YOU!

sebastian vettel is he also drunk?

lewis hamilton days like today make me wish when seb was on the grid sebastian vettel days like this make me grateful that i am no longer on the grid.

mick schumacher oscar is the most boring person to party with.

oscar piastri I DON'T LIKE CLUBBING! ollie bearman LIVE A LITTLE !! GET FUCKED UP!! YOU WERE ON THE PODIUM IN MONACO!!

isabella perez and he is also fucked up.

jenson button oh how i miss being a driver.

fernando alonso because you were whore.

jenson button fuck you bitch. you were a whore too.

mark webber i hate all of you with a passion.

sebastian vettel that's a lie. mark webber correction, i hate you and anti-christ with a passion. freya vettel HE DOESN'T HATE ME!! A WIN IS A WIN!!

charles leclerc i fucking love you people!

daphne jones-ricciardo aww, love you too charlie ❤️ congrats on the win once again.

mae jones-verstappen sorry we couldn't be there but congrats and sorry again pato.

pato o'ward hey, i'll bide my time just like charles! clearly it worked for him.

charles leclerc YOUR TIME IS COMING PATO!! I PROMISE!!

¡taglist!

@burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @bella-182 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault

¡leclerc-s speaks! CHARLES LECLERC WON MONACO AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO COPE!! I'M STILL CRYING OVER IT!! long live and yoyok being the surprise songs the night before charles won monaco is like the win was fate for me. also, i can't handle another sad pato edit on tiktok, the pain hurts.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[moonlightndaydreams]

Second Chances

Jisung is determined to lose his virginity at tonight’s house party. He never expected you, his former best friend, to be there.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

Pairing: Jisung x female reader

Word Count: 6,989

Trope: Friends to enemies to lovers. High School house party. Loss of virginity. Forced proximity.

Author’s Note: I have decided to write this story in an Australian setting (I was feeling nostalgic) where the drinking age is 18, the final year of high school is year 12, and a lot of students turn 18 during that final year. The characters in this story are 18 because I don’t want underage drinking in my story.

Now, as much as it is set in Australia, I was actually inspired by a 90’s American High School movie called “Can’t Hardly Wait” that popped into my head while I was driving the other day. Particularly Seth Green’s character’s storyline, that I thought “That’s so Hannie coded.” Side note: Seth Green was in the Buffy series and I may have had a crush on him. Shh, don’t tell anyone.

Warnings: anxiety, anxiety attacks, alcohol, past relationship trauma (Han was really mean), mention of pot and vaping, swearing.

NSFW content warning below the cut.

CW: protected sex, mention of sex toys, orgasms. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

“It’s happening boys!” Exclaimed Jisung standing in the middle of the local bottle shop. “Tonight is the night.”

“The night for what?” Jinnie turned his head from the row of bourbon bottles he was perusing.

“Tonight I’m going to have SEX!” He announced proudly.

“Wait! What?” Jinnie said, visibly surprised by his friend’s declaration.

“But you don’t have a girlfriend!” Seungmin piped up after choosing a pack of premixed Smirnoff from the shelf.

“I don’t need a girlfri-”

“And,” Seungmin Raised his hand to hush his friend mid-sentence. “You have no clue how to talk to girls.”

“Yeah dude, you kinda gotta know how to talk to girls before it moves to sex.” Jinnie implored. “Well, usually anyway.” he added.

Jisung scratched his head. “I know how to talk to girls.” he huffed. The other two chuckled and gave each other an amused look. Jisung furrowed his brow. “I do know how to talk to girls.” He whined defensively.

“Yeah yeah. Come on, let’s just buy this alcohol and head over to the party.” Jinnie smirked. “The lucky lady awaits.” he winked, slapping his friend on the ass.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

Standing in the front yard belonging to the most popular kid in the school, Jisung looked up at the double-story dwelling. It was already thrumming with drunk year 12 students, and music was blaring from the living room. Lights were on all throughout the house, except for a few rooms upstairs, which Jisung decided was where people were having sex. Where he’d be having sex in the very near future. If all went to plan.

He swallowed nervously and slipped his hand inside the pocket of his baggy jeans, feeling for the condom packet he’d placed in there safely.

“Man, you're gonna rub a hole in it at this rate. Then what are you gonna do? Convince her that your pull out game is strong?” Jinnie teased. 

“You’ve been checking it’s still in there for the last half an hour.” added Seungmin, and gently put a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Seungmin, wanna bet it’s still in his pocket tomorrow?” snickered Jinnie.

Suddenly a roar erupted from somewhere inside, along with the sound of bottles smashing, followed by loud cheers.

“Oh fuck.” Jisung mumbled, suddenly overcome with anxiety.  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  He could do this. “Alright, what are we waiting for?” Jisung tried to sound cool and suave, but his voice cracked with nerves. He took a deep breath, and with a self-determination not dissimilar to the Little Engine That Could, Jisung, with his two best friends in tow, entered the party.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Y/N ~

You sat there on the couch in the middle of the crowded living room, questioning your existence. This wasn’t even a party from your school. Well technically it used to be your school, but not for the past two years. Some students still recognised you though, and you felt like crawling into a hole every time someone pointed a drunken finger at you and yelling “Oh my god y/n! I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth!”, or worse, hug you and say the exact same thing.

As the couple to your right’s makeout session started to heat up and the girl climbed onto the boy's lap, her flailing limbs almost knocked your drink out of your hand. You reminded yourself that you’d come to this party as wingman to your one and only friend, Felix. Felix, who begged you to support him as he came to confess his love to some guy named Chris. You had questioned why he needed to announce his feelings at a fucking party and not online like a regular person, but he’d insisted that this was the only way.

Now Felix had disappeared, and you swore the couple next to you had escalated things to the guy rubbing the girl’s pussy under her skirt. 

“I know what you’re thinking.” a voice to your left interrupted your thoughts. You snapped your head up to meet a rather attractive boy with almond shaped eyes and light brown hair.

“What? Like how to dissociate when people are feeling each other up next to you? Or how the fuck did I end up here in the first place?” You said sarcastically.

The boy smirked. Like a devil. “Well, no. I guess I don’t know what you’re thinking afterall.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why? What did you think I was thinking, hmm?” You challenged him.

“That that looks like fun,’ he pointed to the horny lovers next to you. “and where can I hook up with a guy who knows what he’s doing?” He leaned in “and just so you know, that guy there has no clue what he’s doing.”

You were shocked by this boy’s self assuredness. “And you’re the expert, I suppose?” You raised one eyebrow.

“Well if you come upstairs with me, I can show you that I am very much an expert.”

You laughed dryly. “As much as I am really not enjoying it here,” you gestured around the room. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to respectfully decline your offer.”

Minho leaned back and examined your face as though he was weighing up if you were worth pursuing. He clicked his tongue. “Suit yourself then.” He said indifferently. “But if you change your mind, you can find me upstairs. But be warned, you might have to wait your turn.”

With that the boy stood up and left you sitting there stunned. God what a dick, you shuddered and pulled your phone out of your handbag. No messages from Felix. You quickly texted him asking him where he’s at with “Operation Bang Chan”. He hated that that’s what you called tonight’s efforts. He thought it was more a “Sincere Confession of Love”.

Love. You snorted to yourself on the couch. Fuck love. You loved a boy once. Once upon a time. Fuck, that was part of your hesitation in even coming here tonight in the first place. Your former best friend whom you secretly loved. What if he was here? What if you ran into him? You couldn’t think of anything worse. Just the mere thought of him conjured a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. You tried to shake the feeling, but shame crept into your chest. The humiliation and rejection from that day seeping back into your body. The feeling as real, as visceral, as the day it happened. The heartbreak, and heartache, suddenly felt like a fresh wound, even though you’d  had two years to heal. His words, his voice, cold and cruel in your head, like he’d only just spoken them.

“Fuck off slag. I’m sick of having you hang around me anyway. Actually, I never even liked you. I just put up with you because I was bored.”

Tears pricked at your eyes. You needed some space. No. You needed to leave. You slipped your phone away and headed upstairs in search of a bathroom. Your plan was to pee, call Felix to tell him you had to go, then catch an Uber home. Easy. Only three steps. You’ve got this. You continued to mumble positive affirmations to yourself as you trudged up the stairs, avoiding the loitering drunk students along the way. 

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

From the outset, Jisung knew he didn’t fit in. He recognised the majority of the kids from the smalltown school, but he hadn’t the faintest idea what most of their names were. Apart from spending time with Jinnie and Seungmin, Jisung kept to himself. He immersed himself in his music. Listening to, and making, music. It was actually how he met his two best mates - in the arts department. Jinnie was a dancer, and Seunmgin loved to sing.

“Are you doing okay, Ji?” Seungmin checked in. Jisung nodded but didn’t speak. The three oddball boys had positioned themselves in the corner of the living room with their bourbon and cokes, and a bottle of premixed Smirnoff for Seungmin. 

To their right, was a group of rowdy athletic types. If this were an American teen movie they’d be called the jocks. But these guys weren’t bullies like a lot of the jocks were in the movies. These guys were just good at sport, and were actually the type to get along with absolutely everyone. How people could actually make small talk to teachers and adults of the community, Jisung didn’t know. But Changbin, the kid whose party this was, and his best mate Chris, were able to do it with ease. The pair were also the most decent humans of the lot. It was the reason Jisung even considered coming to the party in the first place. He knew they wouldn’t kick him out on the front lawn for being unpopular.

As Jisung continued to take in the scene around him, he realised that there were in fact a lot of different friend groups there. From the unpopular bookworms who studied hard, to extremely popular bookworms that studied hard. To the potheads (which Jisung recognised more than he wanted to), and the kids that wagged school and vaped. There were the Surfies, the Gamers, and a few guys that were obviously in their twenties that hadn’t seemed to move on from high school. Losers. Jisung thought to himself, despite very much feeling like a loser himself.

“What about her?” Seungmin pointed to a group of three girls who looked around wide eyed as though they’d never seen a party in their lives.

‘Or her there?” Jinnie pointed to a pair of girls Jisung recognised from his music class.

As the pair continued to target potential candidates to “pop Jisung’s cherry” as Jinnie so eloquently put it, Jisung continued to scan the room. He was taken aback when his gaze landed on a boy whose body language oozed fuckboi confidence. Minho. Jisung was pretty sure that was his name. Fuck why couldn’t he feel that confident? Jisung studied “this Minho” for a long moment. He was seated obnoxiously comfortably, manspread on a couch, a beer in one hand, his other arm spread out across the back of the seat. He was talking, no, hitting on, a girl sitting beside him. Jisung couldn’t quite see her face because some guy was standing obstructing his view. Then all of a sudden Minho stood up, winked at two other girls, and headed upstairs. The two girls followed him. Damn. Thought Jisung. Two girls?

Jisung’s gaze reverted back to where Minho had been flirting with the girl on the couch, wondering what her reaction was to him just getting up and summoning two chicks to follow him upstairs. To those dark rooms. 

The guy who had been standing in Jisung’s line of vision stepped to the side momentarily and he got a clear view of who Minho had been talking to.

His heart stopped beating, and he felt a surge of heat wash over his face before his blood drained away entirely, leaving him feeling like he’d seen a ghost. You. Then you stood up and headed upstairs too.To where Minho was.

The room felt like it was spinning, and the voices around him became muffled like he was underwater. Oh god he was going to be sick.

“Ji? Ji are you okay buddy?” A voice, Seungmin? asked. But Jisung couldn’t answer.  “You’re all sweaty, man.”

“I think he’s having a panic attack. We should probably get him some fresh air. Hey, Ji. Mate? Let’s go somewhe-“

“I gotta get out here!” Jisung cried. He yanked Seungmin’s hand off his arm and rushed away as fast as possible.

Upstairs.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Y/N ~

There were several doors on the landing and you had no idea which one was the bathroom. You cracked open a door revealing what seemed to be a bedroom with some dark shapes moving about on the bed and making some grunting sounds. You quickly closed that door, thankful they didn’t seem to notice your intrusion.

You tried another door. But this time the occupants did notice you. “Well, it looks like the kitten has changed her mind.” Minho said with an air of triumph. The two girls that were clinging onto him turned to you with a look of disgust. You rolled your eyes, closed the door and quickly moved on.

Finally, you found the bathroom. You closed your eyes and leaned against the door, relieved you were finally alone. You let out a long exhale, then opened your eyes to take in your surroundings. The bathroom was spectacular, although rather garish with the decor. Everything in the room was huge. The room itself was twice the size of your bedroom, with a large bathtub along the far wall, and a giant window above it. The vanity was long with an expensive looking custom sink with gold tap fittings, and the mirror above was trimmed with a gold frame to match. This Changbin fellow was rather well off, wasn’t he?

You relieved your bladder on what you were certain was the most expensive toilet you’d ever sat on, and watched your reflection as you washed your hands at the sink. You barely recognised yourself tonight. This setting, a school party setting, was not where you fit in, and you could tell just by looking at yourself. You looked so lost and out of place. You wondered for a moment what life might have looked like if you hadn’t moved and changed schools? You wondered if you would have been able to face the boy that broke your heart. Would you have gotten over him? Could you have faced him everyday? If you were honest with yourself you hadn’t gotten over him even now, even when you hadn’t seen him since that day. Even when he hurt you so fucking badly.

You shook the thought away and picked up your phone to see if Felix had returned your message. Flat. The battery was fucking flat. Well that was just fucking great. You groaned in frustration just as the bathroom door opened and slammed closed, causing you to snap your head over to the door to find yourself looking at the back of a boy wearing baggy jeans and an oversized t-shirt and leaning his face against the door.

“What the fuck, dude! Don’t you know how to kno-”

The words died on your tongue when the boy turned around and you were standing face to face with the last person you ever wanted to see again. 

He stared back at you. Pure horror on his face. 

“Jisung?” you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

“Fuck.” Jisung mumbled and quickly turned back around to open the door. He turned the handle, but nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing. He was becoming more and more frantic as he gripped the handle, rattling it and pulling at the door, like he was trying to run for his life. “No. No. No. I have to get out of here. I can’t breathe. I have to get out.” Then the door handle fell off entirely, silencing him momentarily. Jisung bashed his head on the door, then turned and sank to the floor defeated. He scrunched his eyes tight, brought his knees up to his chest and covered his face in his hands. “I have to leave. I can’t be here. You can’t be here.”

You watched your former best friend falling apart on the bathroom floor. So he still had anxiety attacks then? Something pulled at your heart. 

Putting everything you felt about Jisung aside, the anger, the heartache, the humiliation, you moved closer to him, as if on autopilot, sliding down next to him on the floor. “It’s okay Ji.” you soothed. “You’re having a panic attack. We’ve been through these before, remember? And we’ve gotten through it every time.” 

Jisung shook his head. “No. I have to get out of here. Trapped. I’m trapped. Why am I hallucinating? You’re not real. I never hallucinate. Oh god the attacks must be getting worse. I fucked up so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I need to get out of here.” He rambled, rocking his body back and forth. You gently placed a hand on his knee. “Ji. I need you to focus on your breathing okay? Focus on the exhale. That’s it, long exhales. Focus on my hand. Can you feel that?” 

You sat with Jisung through his attack, gently bringing him back to the present moment and walking him through the steps you knew worked for him. Eventually, he removed his hands from his face and peered at you through teary eyes. “I thought I’d never see you again.” he whispered. “Why are you here? Why are you helping me after…after I did what I did?” he averted his eyes.

You sat up straight feeling uncomfortable at the mention of that day. “Well, you needed help.” you sucked in your lip. “And we need to call someone to open the door. Where’s your phone?” 

“Phone?” Jisung echoed vaguely. He patted his pants. “Shit.” he reached inside his pockets. “Fuck!” he groaned and you could visibly see his anxiety bubbling up again. He pulled out his empty hand, not noticing he’d dropped something out of his pocket. You picked up the little square wrapper, only releasing what it was upon closer inspection. A condom.

So he goes to parties and sleeps with girls then?

“Um…here. You dropped this.” you said awkwardly, handing the condom back to Jisung who glared at you as he snatched it back, shoving it deep inside his pocket again.

“Well?” you said. Jisung didn’t respond. “Your phone?” you added expectantly. The sooner you got out of there the better.

“I-I don’t have it.” He said quietly. I must have dropped it. Out there.” he gulped. You banged your head against the door in frustration and closed your eyes.

“Wait. Where’s your phone?” he quizzed defiantly.

“Fucking flat.” you replied not opening your eyes. “Eventually someone will need to use the bathroom, right? Right?” you peered over to Jisung who looked exhausted.

“I think this house has at least four bathrooms. So our chances of escaping might not be as good as you think.” he replied.

“Fuck.” you sighed.

“Yep. Fuck alright.”

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

You spent the best part of the next hour trying to figure out a way to escape. Starting with screaming for help, and bashing on the door, to eventually finding the clean towels and pulling them out of the vanity cupboard with a great escape plan of tying them all together and using it as rope to climb out the window.

“I don’t think it’s going to work.” Jisung said watching you sit in the middle of the bathroom floor attempting to tie two towels together. You scowled at him.

“There aren’t enough towels, and they're too chunky to tie.” he said plainly.

“Well it works in the movies.” you huffed.

“Pretty sure they use bedsheets not towels. Anyway, I need to pee so…” he gestured for you to turn around.

You rolled your eyes and turned away, focusing on your plan.

Jisung flushed the toilet and washed his hands.

“Fine. I give up.” you conceded and tossed the two towels back into the pile and threw yourself on top of it dramatically.

“Look,” he said, pulling the towels out from underneath you. “We might not be able to gallantly climb out the window, but we can make the floor more comfortable.” he started laying the towels out on the floor in front of the bathtub and then sat himself down. “Yep. Much better. I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t feel my arse before.”

Sighing, you crawled over and sat beside Jisung and leaned on the side of the bathtub. He was right, this was a little more comfortable.

“So now what?” you said looking at the ceiling.

“I guess we really will have to wait.” he shrugged.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

Time passed slowly, and Jisung didn’t know whether he should attempt to make conversation or stay quiet. You probably hated him after the things he said to you. Should he bring it up? See if you were open to talk about what had happened? Should he just make small talk and pretend nothing had ever happened at all? In the end he said nothing. At least that way he couldn’t make things any worse.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t use your-” you nodded towards Jisung’s pocket where the condom packet was safely tucked away.  “I mean, I’m sure you can go one weekend without sex.” You nudged him in the leg teasingly.

“Well, about that.” Jisung cleared his throat. “Well..I’ve never…well.. you know?” He hesitated and looked away. “Slept with anyone.” he said shyly.

“Oh.” You said, sounding surprised by his admission. “Ooh! Right! So let me get this straight, you came to this party tonight planning to lose your virginity?” You cocked an eyebrow.

“Hey!” He whined defensively, making you laugh. He hadn’t heard you laugh in such a long time. Jisung never thought he’d get the chance to hear it again after you were gone. 

“Well, if we do get out of here, there’s a guy across the hall who’d probably be happy to help you out. Apparently he’s an expert.” You said sarcastically. “I’m sure he’d love to give us both our first times.”

Jisung met your gaze. “Wait, you’re a virgin too?” he asked wide eyed.

“Why? Does that surprise you, Jisung?”

“Well, yeah. I was certain a girl like you would-” Jisung’s eyes widened even more. “No! That came out so wrong.” He clapped his hand over his mouth.

“What? A slag like me?” you said coldly.

Jisung grabbed your hands, panicstricken. “No, baby!” he cried. “Oh, god! No. I never thought that! I fucked up so bad that day. I…I was a fucking dickhead. I was mean. Oh fuck, I was so cruel to you.” tears filled his eyes and began to spill down his cheeks.

You looked down at the floor. 

“Baby, baby…please look at me. Say something.” He squeezed your hands in his. You didn’t pull away.

“What did I even do to you to make you say those things? Why do you hate me so much?” you asked quietly, turning to him.

“I…don’t hate you baby! It… I… well I was told you’d been sleeping with some guy. I mean, I know we weren’t actually going out, but when I’d heard you had… slept with someone…and that you were moving schools too… and hadn’t told me that either… I just freaked out. I was hurt. I wanted you to be with me. But you didn’t want me. I thought you weren’t going to tell me anything and you’d be gone. Gone with another guy, and leaving. Behind my back. I was so pathetic.”

You sat in silence taking in what Jisung had just shared. 

“You really thought I’d do that to you?” you said eventually. “Jisung! Why didn’t you just talk to me? Why believe what some bitch told you?” You started to cry too.

“I know I shouldn’t have believed her. She showed me text messages and everything. Texts you’d allegedly sent.” He shook his head. “And then I found out it was all a lie. They’d fucking made that shit up. And you’d gone. Then I was angry that you didn’t confront me, pull me up on it. That you just let me say all those horrible things to you and you said nothing. You didn’t even try to defend yourself. That’s when I had the biggest panic attack of my life. When I realised how bad I fucked things up.” 

Jisung sobbed as he thought back to when he told you he hated you. That you were a nuisance to him. He hadn’t even meant any of it. Not really. He didn’t think anyone would ever really know how much it was killing him to speak those words. How it felt like he was being stabbed in the heart when your face fell. He even knew the exact moment the words hit you the hardest. The way your eyes blinked back tears. Jisung winced at the memory. He’d tried to tell himself that it was for the best. That it was the easiest way to break the friendship off. That you deserved it, even. But you didn’t deserve it. Any of it. You hadn’t done anything at all. It was his fault.

“Why didn’t you come find me? Apologise? Make things right?” You croaked.

“I was sure you’d have moved on, and I believed you were better off without me.” He hung his head.

“Ji. You hurt me so much. You know that right?” 

He looked at you and nodded solemnly. “I know.”

“Like, no one has ever hurt me like you did. You made me feel worthless.”

“I’d do anything to take it back. To make it right.” Jisung whispered. He looked at you with regret in his eyes.

“But,” you looked directly at him. “At least I now know the reason you behaved the way you did. But fucking hell man, you went about it in the worst way possible. Look, I’m not forgiving you for behaving like that. Not by a long shot. But,” you sobbed loudly. “But I missed my best friend.” You began to cry harder, losing all self control and letting the tears stream down your cheeks. “I missed you, and I didn’t want you to hate me like you did. You hated me and I didn’t know why?” 

Jisung pulled you close to his chest and rested his chin on the top of your head as you cried against his chest. He hated himself for how he’d made you feel. He was responsible for this. He was responsible for fucking up your friendship. He was in love with you and he’d pushed you away. He wanted to look after you and take care of you, but he’d told you he didn’t want you around. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, not make you cry.

His life hadn’t been the same after you’d left. No one was there to share his thoughts with, or stay up late talking about random shit, or share his music with. There was no one there who could help him through his anxiety the way you could. No one laughed at his silly jokes the way you did. No one made him feel like he could be his awkward, quirky self except you.

But somehow fate had brought you back together and he was determined to fix this.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Y/N ~

You let yourself relax into Jisung’s embrace and cried your eyes out. You felt safe in his arms despite him being the reason you were hurting. But he was hurting too. Both when he thought you’d betrayed him, and even now. He was hurting now and you couldn’t hate him. You kind of understood his perspective. You could definitely see that he knew how he’d fucked up.

You don’t know how long you sat there like that, but eventually you lifted your head and looked at Jisung. “Am I all red and puffy?” You smiled despite the heaviness in your chest.

Jisung half smiled. “Yeah.” He said softly. “What about me?”

You reached up to wipe Jisung’s tear streaked cheek and took in his features. You really looked at him. He was still your Jisung. His cheeks weren’t as chubby, his jaw a little more coarse where he shaved. “You’ve grown up.” You whispered and your eyes locked. Your heart sped up. The way he was looking at you, it was different to the way he’d looked at you previously. The tension was palpable.

Jisung cleared his throat and broke eye contact. “Well I’m an adult now.” He joked like he was trying to change the energy of the moment. “I can vote now.” He added proudly. 

“Hmm lucky us, huh? Allowed to vote.” You followed his lead. “And we can drink? And get into nightclubs and pubs.”

“I’d rather just have a quiet movie night than do all that going out.” He said thoughtfully. “I’d prefer the quiet life I think.”

You leaned away from him and looked at him quizzically. “But what about your music? Aren’t you wanting to play in some of those places?”

“Depends. Will you come watch me if I do?” He asked.

You nodded. “I miss your music.”

“Well I’ve written a lot of songs in the last couple of years. Mostly angsty stuff.” He blushed.

“I’d love to hear everything if you ever wanna show me.” You leaned back against the tub. “Well here’s to adult life, hey.” you sighed.

“That’s if we ever actually get out of here. We might survive a couple of days in here, but the outlook doesn’t look good.” Jisung laughed dryly. “But at least we have a toilet.” 

“And water to drink and wash ourselves with. I like the look of this bath.” You glanced over your shoulder.

“We might starve to death, but we can enjoy bubble baths in the meantime.” He joked.

“I’m pretty sure I saw some organic, all natural sugar scrub when I was searching the cupboards. Maybe it’s edible?” you suggested.

You both laughed, finally feeling more at ease with each other. It felt familiar. It felt nice.

“I can see the news headline: Two virgin teenagers starve to death in a luxurious bathroom after being trapped for three weeks.” You announced in your best newsreader’s voice.

“God, that’s sad.” Jisung shook his head. “Hey? Do you remember that pact we made?” he turned to you.

Your laugh faded. “Oh.” You cast your mind back. “Oh my goodness. Yes! I remember.” You covered your mouth to hide your smile. “If either of us hadn’t had sex by sex by eighteen-“

“We’d have sex with each other.” He gave a shit eating grin. You smirked at him and shook your head in disbelief. “Jisung!” You punched him playfully in the arm and leaned into his body. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and squeezed your arm affectionately. This felt so natural, so easy. You laid your hand across his waist, still so tiny, and played with the fabric of his shirt. “Ji? Did you mean what you said earlier? That you wanted to be with me. Like more than just best friends?” You waited silently for him to answer.

“Yeah. I always wanted to be more than just your best friend.” He said in a quiet voice.

You slowly lifted your chin up to look at him. He gazed down at you with the softest eyes. Slowly, he tilted his face down towards yours and brushed your lips with his. It was electric despite it being the briefest of contact. He pulled away just an inch, hesitating to continue. Waiting for you to give him a signal to either keep going or to stop. Your eyes flicked up from his lips to meet his eyes momentarily before wrapping his shirt in your fist and pulling him back into another kiss. An unexpected whimper got caught in your throat as Jisung’s lips moved against your own. Slow but firm. His kiss felt hopeful, like a promise.

“I should have come and found you, begged for your forgiveness.” he said breathily between kisses. “I’m sorry baby, I really am.”

“Shh. Kiss me more.. It feels so right.” you sighed and pulled him back in.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

It did feel right. Kissing you. Jisung wanted to show you how much you meant to him. How sorry he was. How much he wanted to make it up to you. Your lips tasted like heaven, and your body so soft and warm in his arms. You were real and this was really happening.

He cupped your jaw, initiating a deeper kiss and you opened your mouth in response. The moan that slipped from you as he dipped his tongue in to find yours went straight to his cock. You pressed your body against his, panting as your tongues danced, like you were trying to crawl inside him. He could hardly control himself when he felt your hand slip under his shirt and caress his bare skin.

Jisung pulled away abruptly, eliciting a wine from you in protest. You looked drunk and delirious with flushed cheeks and soft, unfocused eyes. You looked like perfection.

“Ji, I want you to be my first.” you declared with a hopeful expression.

Jisung blinked thinking he misheard.

“W-what?” he stuttered.

“I want you to be my first.” you repeated, not breaking eye contact.

Jisung swallowed and studied your face trying to make sure you knew the weight of what you were saying. “Do you want me to be your first too?” you asked in a small voice.

“I want you to be my first and my forever.” he whispered before he could stop himself. Shit.

“There’s my songwriter.” you smiled, stroking his cheek. Then your hand went to rest on his pocket where the condom resided. 

“What? Here? Now? On the bathroom floor at a party?”

You nodded.

“Baby, this isn’t how I envisioned it. I mean, not that I have ever imagined it. Okay, I have imagined it. But…it’s not very romantic.” he looked at you desperately, hoping you’d come to your senses, because if you didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself.

“Jisung, please.” you purred. Fuck, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard.

“How can you want me when I hurt you like I did?” he leaned his forehead on yours.

“Let’s forget that right now. I know you’re sorry. I really do. And I know that it wasn’t really you. Let’s focus on moving forward.”  You slid both hands up underneath his shirt making him shiver. His mind automatically imagined what it’d feel like if you wrapped a hand around his dick.

“Okay.” he said finally. “But you have to tell me to stop if you change your mind at any time.”

“Okay.” you whispered.

If this was going to happen, on the floor of a bathroom at a damn house party, then Jisung wanted to at least make it as comfortable for you as possible. He rearranged the towels to provide as much cushioning as possible, and he opened the blinds and turned off the light to allow natural moonlight to fill the room.

Then he was laying you down gently on the floor. “Are you going to undress me now?” you asked boldly.

Jisung felt so nervous as he fumbled at your clothes, peeling off your shirt and jeans, leaving you just in your underwear. In turn, you pulled his shirt off and ran your hands up his back while you pulled him down into a kiss. He let his hands explore your bare skin, his desire, his need, to be closer to you growing stronger by the moment. He was certain you could feel his erection against your leg. You pulled him further on top of you, opening your legs and inviting him to nestle his hips between them. You’d definitely be able to feel his erection now. You ground your core up against him, making him moan and grind back in response.

“Fuck, baby.” he mumbled into your neck. “Feels s’good.” he peeled himself off you to kneel between your legs, taking in the sight of you while he rubbed circles on your hips. Then bravely he brought his thumb to graze over your centre over the top of your panties. You pulled in a sharp breath and Jisung couldn’t help but smirk.

“Ji, please! Take off your pants…I want you now!” you plead. Jisung closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to control his nerves. This was actually happening. He was about to have sex, and with the girl he’d dreamed of sharing this moment with.

“Please.” you practically begged and your hand slipped down beneath the front of your panties and rubbed at your clit.

Jisung sprung into action. He removed his jeans and boxers, and then peeled your panties off, revealing how your fingers expertly slid through your wetness. “Fuck!” he groaned, and quickly rolled the condom on. 

“Jisung!” you gasped. “You have such a pretty penis.”

“Yeah?” he teased as he positioned himself above you again. “Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked gently.                

“I’m sure, Jisung.” you locked eyes with his.

Jisung lined his cock up with your entrance and gently pushed inside an inch, feeling your pussy stretch around his tip. He carefully pushed in a little further, your warmth inviting him in and enveloping him. “Is this okay? Am I going too fast?” he inquired.

“Jisung. I may be a virgin but I own a dildo. Please, please I need you in me.” you whimpered.

Jisung’s cock pulsated at the image of you fucking yourself with a dildo, imagining what you’d look like showing him exactly how you did it.         

“Oh so you’ve been stretched out before huh? Well then.” he pushed himself in all the way and paused.

“Mmm hmm. But it’s not as thick as you. You…you’re making me feel so…so full…so stretched. Fuck, you feel so good. So perfect for me…please…can you move now?”

Jisung reached down and gripped onto your thigh, lifting it and pushing it a little more to the side. He rested himself on his forearm and took you in a deep kiss. At the same time he pulled his cock out halfway and sank back in. You both breathed out shakily. This felt too good. He started with a slow rhythm, gradually building up the pace, careful not to thrust too hard. You were so wet, and so fucking tight, It took all his self control not to start fucking you with abandon. But he didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted to give you whatever you needed right now and let you set the pace. It was his absolute downfall when you spoke next.

“Fuck me harder, Ji.” you whimpered.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Y/N ~

Jisung felt heavenly inside you, but you needed more. You needed to really feel him, to feel how much he needed you, to make you his.

Jisung hesitated. “You sure, baby? I might hurt you?”

“Come on pleeeasse… I wanna be yours.”          

Jisung suddenly snapped his hips making you cry out in pure pleasure. “Yes, like that. Don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to last, baby. You feel too…too…fuck.” he panted. 

Jisung began to perspire, beads of sweat on his brow, his hair damp. Sound of your skin slapping together filled the room and you were grateful for the loud music downstairs.

“I’m so close.” he whispered. 

‘It’s okay, Ji. I’m close too. Rub my clit while you fuck me. I promise you’ll like what happens when you do.”

Jisung slipped his thumb in between your bodies. “Right here, baby.” you slipped your hand over his, adjusting the position of his thumb so that he could feel your clitoris. “Rub it in circles. Like this.” you guided him for a few moments before letting him take over.

It was enough to take you to the precipice. “I gonna cum, Ji, fuck me through it.” you cried as your back arched off the floor. His thrusts were deep, hard and controlled and that’s when you felt it. The coil in your abdomen snapping and you were being flung off the cliff.

“Oh god…fuuuuckk! You’re squeezing me so tight… you’re…” he grunted.

“Yes, I'm cumming. Cum with me Ji!” you cried out.

You felt Jisung’s hips falter, and an expression of pained pleasure washed over his features as he filled the condom.

He collapsed on top of you and you held him tight, while you both came down from your highs.

“Oh my god. That was incredible. I could feel you cum.” he lifted his head and looked at you in disbelief.

“It was pretty perfect.” you agreed.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

~ Jisung ~

After you had both cleaned up, which was easy considering you were in a bathroom, you found yourselves fully dressed and sitting back on the floor in front of the bath.

"You know, we could have run a bath and had sex in that.” you suggested as an afterthought.

“Baby,” Jisung said in a serious tone.  “Do you really want to put the past behind us? Start fresh? You’ll really have me after…?”

You took his hand in yours. “Yes, yes I do. But you have to promise to talk to me before ever accusing me of anything. Okay?”

He nodded. ‘Yes of course.”

He leaned in and kissed you, before a banging at the door startled you both and broke Jisung from the bubble you were in. “Ji? Ji? Are you in there, mate?” Seungmin called from the otherside of the door.

“So, should we let them save us, or stay like this just a little bit longer?” he whispered, secretly hoping you actually wanted to stay like this forever.

The end.

🍻 🍸🍹🥂🍾

Thank you for reading my story. I love sharing my ideas with you. If you know any Han Jisung fanfic fans please feel free to reblog and tag them 🥰🥰🥰

@channieandhisgoonsquad @itshannjisung @noellllslut @kangnina @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @weareapackofstrays

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Ten

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine,

A/N: This one is an absolute doozy! Be prepared for a lot of feels people! And a scene that literally popped up in my head as I wrote this. I dunno I just wanted to include it! Please excuse any mistakes I made!

"This place is huge!"

Thats it. Those were the only words Orora could think of to describe Ba Sing Se.

Once they had crossed the Inner Wall she had felt her mouth open in amazement. Rows and rows of houses, as far as the eye could see. The chatter of more then a thousand people echoing in the air as they went about their daily lives. She had never seen so many people in one place. Not even the Northern Water Tribe had this much population.

Iroh chuckled beside her, amused by her reaction. "That is an apt description for it, my dear." They had stepped onto the platform, after making sure they had their belongings with them. They were really only small packs containing objects that had some sort of sentimental value. And money of course.

"Woah!" The young waterbender breathed as she gazed around from the raised platform they were standing on. The wind played gently with her hair, prompting her to push the strands behind her ears. Iroh stood just beside her while Zuko stood on the opposite side. He hadn't said anything the entire train ride, though she knew he had been just as amazed by the sheer magnitude of the city as she was. His eyes had widened slightly. A rather subtle movement, but then again she had started to notice everything subtle about him.

Only because of her observation of him. And not because she had stared at him out of the corner of her eyes on more then one occasion.

"Now! The first thing we should do is get some clothes. After all we are no longer refugees but citizens of Ba Sing Se." Iroh stated, leading the way down the platform with the two teenagers following after him.

"I'll have to find some work to earn money for that." Orora muttered to herself, thinking back on just how little coin she had left. Iroh turned to her, frowning. "And what makes you think I will not buy clothes for you as well my young pupil?"

She stopped short, prompting Zuko to almost walk into her. Orora ignored the glare he threw in her direction as she blinked at her smiling Master.

"Y-you..." She trailed off unable to find words. Iroh's expression turned to one Orora had seem him give Zuko when comforting him. "You are my responsibility Orora, and I care for you just as much as I do my nephew."

They were standing together, the three of them, with Iroh and Orora facing one another and Zuko standing to the side. His attention had been at a nearby weapons shop but a soft sound had him turning his head to look at Orora.

She had a tight grip on the strap of her water satchel, as if to keep her hands from trembling. But that was not what caught his attention. It was the fact that for once her icy blue eyes had a warmth to them he had never seen before. And they were swimming with tears. The soft sound he had heard, was her giving a small gasp as she tried to control her emotions.

Though she was failing at it, because even as he watched, a tear escaped her eye, sliding down her cheek.

Crying people had always been a weakness of his. He had no idea how to deal with them. Crying girls was even worse. But seeing Orora cry, at something so insignificant as his Uncle buying her clothes, had him feeling equal parts awkward and..........concerned.

Laughing softly to himself, Iroh reached out to take her still trembling hand and placed a pouch of coins in it. "Why don't you go ahead and buy your clothes my dear? I'm sure we will all benefit from having a pretty young maid such as yourself as our companion eh Zuko?" That last part was directed at him, prompting the banished prince to snap out of his stupor and stare stupidly at his Uncle.

"Wh-what?" But neither Pupil nor Master heard him as Orora quickly engulfed the old man in an embrace that reminded Iroh of the ones his son would give him as a young boy.

"Thank you...........Uncle." If he was surprised at her calling him that he did not show it. Though he did show his pleasure at being called thusly by her. "Now go buy your new clothes and do something about your hair. I shall meet you both here in two hours. And you also buy anything that catches your fancy."

"Wait! Both?" Zuko barked out. Iroh nodded. "Yes both. This city can be dangerous my boy. Especially for a young lady. And though I know she can protect herself, I would much rather she have you with her. For my peace of mind." He finished giving his nephew a look that clearly said, do not argue.

Pursing his lips, Zuko gave a small nod. Though there was no pleasure in his stance as he took his own pouch of coins from Iroh. "Enjoy yourselves then."

With a cheerful wave and a wink he was off to do his own shopping.

Zuko sighed to himself, pocketing his pouch and turning to Orora who was now tear free and already looking around at the different shops on either side of them.

Good, he preferred her tear-free.

Shaking his head, he pursed his lips before speaking.

"Come on. I think we can find a shop that sells clothes for us both." He had already started to move, prompting Orora to follow him with quick steps to catch up.

While Zuko had been of the opinion that their impromptu shopping spree would be awkward, it was anything but. Orora having never been in a city before, was flitting from one stall to the next shop. Eagerly pouring over the wares the shop keepers were selling, though she didn't buy them. Zuko was left to follow after her, trying to keep up with her surprisingly fast pace.

"Would you slow down!" He finally puffed out after loosing sight of her for a good few minutes, nearly making him panic before he had caught sight of her entering a weapons shop. She turned to look at him, a slightly apologetic look on her face.

"Sorry, I'll try to slow down but I just saw these and they reminded me of the swords you had when we met in the forest." Zuko looked to where she was pointing. And indeed it was a pair of dao swords, much like the ones that had been confiscated from him a good while ago.

Apparently there was a strict rule of no bringing weapons into Ba Sing Se. However you could buy them once you were inside.

A stupid rule really.

Still he had managed to hide the dagger Uncle had given him, but the swords had to go.

"They do look the same." He agreed with her. Before he could stop her, Orora had reached out and was lifting both of the swords from the stand and holding them out for him. "Well try them out. If its a good fit then you can buy them." She suggested giving him a small smile.

Maybe it was the fact that they were back in civilization. Or perhaps it was the interaction she had had with Iroh that had resulted in her being in a pleasant mood. Whatever it was, she had no desire to ruin it by squabbling with Zuko. Besides it wasn't that difficult to be nice to him.

Zuko glanced at her briefly, before reaching out to grasp the handle of the swords. His fingers briefly brushed against Orora's prompting them both to freeze momentarily. But he quickly shook off the feeling, turning his attention to the swords.

The weight was perfect as was the balance. Obviously they were of fine craftsmanship. Feeling that familiarity one felt when picking up a weapon they knew, Zuko swung them around to test further. After a couple more swings he stopped, seemingly satisfied.

Lifting one of the swords to eye level, he stared at the blade, watching his reflection stare back. "Well? What do you think?" Tilting the blade slightly he was able to catch a glimpse of Orora as she stood behind him.

Maybe it was the familiarity of the swords, or perhaps it was the soft yet hopeful look that he caught in Orora's expression which made him give a small nod.

"They're perfect."

                                           ————————–

The next step was finding new clothes.

And as soon as they entered the shop each teenager was whisked away by an employee. Orora was guided towards the female section of the shop, while Zuko went the opposite way.

A little annoying since he was supposed to be keeping an eye on her. However he did keep a sharp ear out, in case she called out for help. He made no complaint as the shop assistant began to pull out clothes that would be perfect for someone his size. Zuko stared dismally at the various shades of browns and greens that greeted him. He missed the red, black and gold colors of his Nation. For a brief moment he wandered if he would ever get to wear them again.

The thought had a sting of bitterness running through him, prompting him to pick out the first garment the assistant showed him. And he would've bought it as it was if the Assistant hadn't insisted that he alter it to his size. Something about the shop not looking good if he sold frumpy looking clothing. It would take some time though, so Zuko marched to the entrance of the shop to sit in one of the waiting chairs.

With his arms crossed and a grumpy expression on his face, any passerby would assume he was there against his will.

While Zuko seemed to be having a miserable time, Orora was having the time of her life. She had always adored dressing up, as typically feminine as it was and while she would've preferred to dress in the blue of her Nation, she wasn't opposed to wearing green so long as it got her out of her baggy clothing. She figured she didn't have to hide the fact that she was a girl in the city so, why not go all out?

"This color would look lovely against your complexion." The assistant, who had introduced herself as Hana, placed the green fabric against her shoulder to better assess the color alongside her skin. Like any member of the Water Tribe, Orora's complexion was darker then of those around her. And given that she had been traveling under the sun for so long, it had only darkened more. The color did stand out, and the fabric was so soft.

The young waterbender hummed. "Well I have an idea in mind. If I could explain it to you, would you be able to find something for me?" Hana grinned. "Its always good to have a customer who knows exactly what they want." She praised, picking up a writing utensil and paper to write down Orora's instructions.

"What did you have in mind?" She asked, looking like a woman on a mission. Orora grinned.

                                           ————————–

Fifteen minutes later, she walked towards the waiting area with Hana beside her.

"We have everything you just asked for Orora. I just have to alter it to your measurements, but that won't take long." Hana said with a reassuring smile to which Orora nodded. "Thank you for all your help Hana. If I may ask for one small request."

So saying, she quickly darted forward grabbing Zuko by the arm, and pulling him from his chair to stand beside her. Zuko, who had been busy examining his new swords, and pretending not to eavesdrop, was more so surprised at the sudden motion that there was no resistance on his part.

"My friend and I have to be at a dinner party tonight, but we do not have a place to bath or clean up. Do you know any bath houses around here?"

There was no way she was about to wear her new clothes without cleaning herself up first. She hadn't had a chance to bathe since the desert, a thought that had her shivering in disgust. Zuko glanced at her. "Is that your subtle way of saying I stink?" He asked to which Orora smirked.

"Subtle? I must be loosing my touch. I meant it to be more direct." She grinned at him before turning her attention back to the softly laughing Hana. "Luckily for you two my brother owns a bath house. And it is not so far from here." She moved to the door, gesturing for the duo to follow. "Just go down this street then take a right. First door on the left." She instructed. "I shall have both of your clothes delivered there within the hour."

"Thank you." The ever polite Orora said, even as she poked her elbow into Zuko's stomach to remind him to do the same. He did so, albeit in a rather grumpy manner. Still it was better or nothing.

Once they had paid for their clothes, the two set off down the street as Hana had instructed.

"You know we could've cleaned up at the new place we will be staying at." Zuko suggested, to which Orora gave him a disgusted look. "Zuko, we're filthy. We've been traveling for days. If you want to wait and dirty your new clothes, go right ahead." She made a hand gesture to that effect, but s topped midway as her blue eyes caught sight of something.

Zuko followed her line of sight and groaned loudly. "I have to buy one more thing." So saying Orora quickly made her way to the display of pretty hair accessories that had caught her eye. She yanked Zuko along with her, not having dropped the hold she had on his arm where she had looped it through his earlier.

A fact that neither of the them noticed.

At least Orora wasn't like other girls who would spend hours poring over pretty trinkets only to not buy them in the end. It wasn't even ten minutes later that they were once again making their way towards the bath houses, with Orora admiring the new hair comb she had bought.

"Isn't it pretty?" She sighed, watching how the blue stone set in the middle of the comb caught the mid-morning sunlight and shimmered beautifully. "And its so detailed, just look at the dragon." She held it to his eye level. He gave it a brief once over and, reluctantly, nodded. It was a pretty piece of jewelry there was no denying that.

"I thought I should get something blue to represent my Nation." Tucking away the comb in her pouch. Glancing up she saw him clench his jaw even tighter. At this rate he would grind his teeth to dust. "Maybe you should do the same?" She suggested her voice soft as they reached the bath houses.

His gaze snapped in her direction, startled and surprised. That was certainly not what he had been expecting her to say. Glancing around from the corner of her eye, Orora met his gaze with a look of understanding. Reaching out, almost hesitantly, she grasped his wrist, stepping forward so she could whisper the next words to him. "I don't condone what they have done. But they are still your people, and I know you miss your home."

She had to lift herself up on her toes slightly to be able to whisper to him properly. The action allowed the front of her chest to press against his slightly. To any onlooker it would look to be nothing more then a lover's embrace. To Zuko, the barely there embrace, was one of comfort. Something he did not realize he had needed for so long. He closed his eyes, but only briefly, before he gave Orora a small nod. While he wouldn't voice his appreciation for her act, he could acknowledge it.

Orora smiled softly before she stepped back. Turning she quickly walked into the bath house, and after a moment Zuko followed.

                                           ————————–

Steam curled from the water as Orora stepped into the square space in a robe, having gotten rid of her clothes as soon as she could. Locking the door securely behind her, she turned her attention to the tub in the middle of the room. It was just big enough for her so she eagerly shrugged off the robe and settled into the warm water. A sigh of utter contentment fell from her lips, feeling a sense of comfort as the water surrounded her. Quickly submerging her head, the girl picked up the sweet scented soap that had been left for her and began to scrub her hair and body. The water itself had some sweet smelling oils in them, and if it were up to her, she would stay there for hours.

Once done cleaning herself, she bended the water separating whatever dirt she had scrubbed off herself. Casting the dirt aside, she allowed the water to settle back down into the tub. Orora had barely leaned back to rest her head against the back of the tub when the sound of voices from the other side of the wall had her listening in curiously.

"You can wash up here." Said an unfamiliar voice. She heard the sound of a door opening on the other side. Make sense that the room next to her was also a bathroom. "I'll leave your clothes outside the door once they arrive."

"Thank you!"

The waterbender sat up straight, water sloshing around her as a small squeak of surprise fell from her lips. A sound the echoed in the otherwise quiet space, and since the wall on her left had more then ample space between itself and the ceiling, it was clearly heard by the person who had just entered the bathing chamber on the other side.

"Orora?"

It was Zuko.

Spirits help her! Zuko was in the room next to her own.

The thought alone had a blush stealing across her cheeks, and she could feel it as it traveled down her neck to her shoulders. How that was even possible she had no idea.

"Orora is something wrong?" His voice sounded closer now, like he was standing right next to the wall. And his voice sounded urgent. Clearing her throat she shook her head, even though he couldn't see her. "No, no everything is fine." Her voice sounded strange even to her ears.

On the other side of the wall, Zuko's brief flash of panic dissipated and the reality of the situation started to set in. He blushed just as brilliantly as Orora did, a fact that was unknown to both of them.

"I'm going to ask for another chamber." Zuko stated, already moving towards the door. The sound of water reached his ears followed by a two words that made his heart stop. "No, wait." Silence followed her soft exclamation as he waited for her to continue. Finally, after a rather lengthy silence, in which Orora was berating herself for speaking out like that, she spoke. "These two were the only bath chambers available on such short notice. Not to mention they'll charge extra since they have to warm the water again and get a new chamber ready so just.............stay."

Despite her affirmation and assurance, there was no denying just how awkward the situation was. Orora could hear every splash of water as Zuko settled into his tub, and Zuko was acutely aware of the fact that she could hear everything. So he just decided to sit in the water once he had hastily scrubbed himself clean.

The one fact that neither of them were even allowing themselves to think on was the state of undress they were both in. To distract herself, Orora began to create small patterns using her water bending, while Zuko made the water as hot as possible without letting it evaporate completely.

The silence and the awkwardness of it was slowly grating at Orora's nerves. She had always hated silence, it reminded her too much of the time when she would spent all those hours in her room while her father entertained guests. Why? Because a proper young lady said her greetings before excusing herself to her rooms.

Her patience only last five minutes before she finally snapped. "I believe we have reached a whole new stage of awkwardness then." Zuko didn't respond, though her acute hearing and bending sense did pick up on the water moving. Indeed, Zuko had been a little startled at hearing her voice, having supposed that the two of them would remain quiet for the remainder of their bath.

"And since they can't get any more awkward I'm just going to come out and say something I've been thinking since we reached Ba Sing Se." More silence, and for once Zuko was sure she actually wanted him to speak, as opposed to all the times she had told him to stay quiet.

"Whats that?" His tone was soft and his voice low, matching her in almost perfect pitch as he leaned his head back against the back of the tub, looking at the ceiling above.

"I know that we have a lot of differences between us." The statement had the young prince letting out a small unexpected chuckle. "Thats putting it mildly." He interrupted her, he could practically picture her pursing her lips at being interrupted. "Well yes, but I don't want to make you any angrier then you already ar-"

"Who said I was angry?" Zuko protested, half rising from his position to glare at the wall. Clenching her fists Orora shook away her annoyance before continuing. "As I was saying, I think tha-"

"I can feel other emotions beside anger you know. I'm not angry all the time an-HEY!" His exclamation was followed by a loud splash as the bubble of water Orora had bended over the space between the wall separating them splashed on his head. As Zuko spluttered and shook his hair out of his eyes, she started again.

"I know that we have a lot of differences between us, and that we would never see eye to eye. And I'm sure not a day will go by where you do not vex me, or I annoy you in some form." Hugging her legs to her chest, the young waterbender hoped the Fire Nation prince wouldn't reject her offer of peace.

"But since we will be living together until...........well we don't know when." Zuko's heart twinged at the reminder, but he stayed quiet. "I thought we should have a truce of some kind? Where we don't fight, at least not all the time, and try to get along."

That dreaded silence once more. Though this time it was heavier, weighing down on her just as much as it weighed down on him. She heard him stand up, prompting a sigh of defeat to echo in the two rooms. She could hear him as he opened the door and took his clothes where they rested on the floor. Zuko's mind raced as he dried himself off and began to pull on his new clothes.

After a few minutes, and accepting that perhaps she had humiliated herself enough, the girl quickly stood from her bath tub, bending the water from her body. Her new clothes rested on the floor in front of her door the same as Zuko. She quickly took them inside and unwrapped the items. Despite the sorrow tugging at her heart, she gave a small smile at the sight of her new clothes.

They were perfect.

Neither of them spoke as the dressed. Though Zuko finished first, and quickly exited the chamber. Orora took a few extra minutes, adjusting her clothes properly, before moving to stand in front of the small mirror and combing her hair with her new comb. Picking up a small section of her hair from her temple, she adjusted them so that she could place the hair comb through the strands. Now with the loose unruly tendrils out of her face, she was able to see her face properly in the mirror.

Satisfied with her appearance, she exited the bath just as she finished adjusting her water satchel, and promptly bumped into Zuko who had been standing right outside her door.

Her hands came up to steady herself, which he quickly caught to keep her from falling. Whatever insult that had been about to fall from her lips vanished when she saw who she had walked into.

Ice blue eyes widened, as she took in his newly dressed state. The clothing suited him, but what caught her eye in particular was how long his hair had gotten and how the strands at the front fell over his forehead. She had to physically restrain herself from reaching out and pushing them back. Not only because she wanted to feel how soft his hair was, but also because she wanted to see his pretty gold eyes properly.

Eyes that were now taking her in. The first time Zuko had met her she had been wearing her blue parka that had been blood stained and rumpled from her run in with the Fire Nation soldiers. Other then that, he had only seen her in shapeless short kimonos and pants that were dull in color and hid the fact that she was a girl.

The outfit she wore now did not hide any aspect of her being a girl at all.

She had opted for a light green Cheong dress with no sleeves to allow her arms to move better. The shirt she wore under it had long sleeves though, sitting snugly against her skin. The sides of the dress opened starting from her hips down the entire length of the dress which stopped a few inches below her knees. The edges of the dress had a pretty swirling design to add a hint of flare to it. Underneath it she had chosen a pair of pants that was dark green, the ends of which was tucked into her new leather calf length shoes.

She had styled her clothes exactly like the fashion of her Nation, except in green and lighter in material.

It had been perfect, though the dress was still a little loose on her. So Orora had taken the green sash the garments had come tied in and wrapped it around her waist. Not only did the dress look much better, but the belt accentuated her waist and made her look almost as if her body had an hourglass shape.

And while Orora was not the most vain girl, she did like looking pretty.

And for once, after so many months, she looked, smelled and felt pretty.

And Zuko was acutely aware of all three facts as he continued to stare at her. It wasn't unnerving in any form. There was no malice in his eyes. Only an emotion that she had never seen on his face before. Which was why she was having a hard time to place it.

She could puzzle over it later, she figured as Zuko released her hands and stepped back. Blue met gold before the latter disappeared behind closed lids briefly. But once they opened, there was a determined look in them.

And Orora saw the reason for it when her eyes dropped to the hand he held out to her. A beat of silence, in which Orora felt her breath hitch in her throat and a bright smile to bloom across her face as she reached out to grasp his hand between both of her own. And this time, when blue met gold, Zuko gave a small smile back.

"Truce."

                                           ————————–

The two teenagers had barely reached their destination when Iroh suddenly appeared at their side. Holding a vase full of flowers.

"I just want our place to look nice, after all, we have a rather pretty young lady living with us, do we not?" He gave Zuko a nudge with his elbow, though his smile was directed at Orora who blushed and smiled in return.

"You look lovely my dear." He complimented, though it would seem Zuko had reverted back to his moody self as he spoke. "This city is a prison. I don't want to make a life here." He sounded so bleak and hopeless about his situation that Orora frowned.

"We don't have a choice." She kept her voice soft so that no one would overhear her. "This was the only way to ensure our survival in the long run."

Iroh, sensing his pupil's rising annoyance with his nephew, quickly spoke. "Life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not." Without pausing for breath he continued. "Now come on, I found us some new jobs, and we start this afternoon!"

Zuko stopped short, staring in disbelief. "A job?!"

Orora snorted to herself, clapping a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, earning a glare from Zuko. Watching a Prince who had probably never worked a day in his life do an actual job?!

Oh, she was in for a treat, she thought smiling wickedly.

                                          ————————–

It came as no surprise when Iroh led them to a tea shop.

"And here I was thinking you had gotten a job at an apothecary shop." The young waterbender teased as she followed after her Master. Iroh simply grinned in reply. The two of them didn't bother to see if Zuko followed. He stood outside the shop, staring glumly at it before heaving a resigned sigh and following after his two companions.

It wasn't long before Pao, the shop owner, had handed them matching aprons and was telling them everything they needed to know about the shop. He prattled on as Orora finished tying the string behind her back.

"Argh, ridiculous." Zuko muttered under his breath, looking just as annoyed as he sounded. Orora nudged him with her elbow where she stood at his side. "Be grateful that we will have a steady income. Do you even know how hard it is to get a job in such a big city?"

He turned to glare at her. "This is humiliating. I'm not meant to be working as a servant. I'm supposed to have people working for me." He gritted through clenched teeth.

The girl gave him an unimpressed look. "Well I'm not meant to be here at all. I'm supposed to be married by now and living a miserable life." She caught sight of the surprised look that crossed his features, but continued to speak. "I wouldn't trade my current predicament for anything in the world." With that she turned her attention to the shop owner, who was still speaking with Iroh.

After a good few minutes of feeling Zuko's stare at her, she looked at him, raising her eyebrow in question. "You were supposed to get married?" His voice sounded hoarse and strange, even to his own ears. Orora nodded before giving a shrug. "It was arranged by my father. I had no say in it." She stated shortly, her eyes flashing with that iciness that served as a reminder to him to never cross her.

"Uh, does this possibly come in a larger size?" Iroh, who had been struggling to tie his apron finally spoke up. Pao gave a nod. "I have extra string in the back. Have some tea while you wait!" Before leaving he quickly poured hot tea into three cups and handed them out to his new employees.

Orora glanced down at the contents of her cup, making a face at the questionable color of the liquid. Iroh seemed to share her sentiment since he barely took a sip of it before his face contorted to one of disgust. He held the cup away from his body, as if it had done him some personal offense. "Blech! This tea is nothing more than hot leaf juice!" He declared. Zuko gave his Uncle a dead-panned look. "Uncle, that's what all tea is."

But the old man wasn't having it as he gave a look of utter disappointment and heartbreak. "How could a member of my own family say something so horrible?!" He exclaimed before a look of determination crossed his face. "We'll have to make some major changes around here."

"Well lets hope our boss doesn't fire us for taking over his shop." Orora stated softly, setting aside her cup and glancing around the bare shop.

"Though this place could do with some decorating."

Zuko groaned. Between Iroh's fanatic obsession with tea, and Orora's stubbornness to get her own way, he knew he was going to have his hands full.

                                          ————————–

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