#Prompt me or Tempt Me 02

[wonryllis]

ʬʬ. ! POKER FACE ﹙ SHE'S GOT ME LIKE NOBODY ﹚

𝒏o𝓉ℯs. park sunghoon with fem!reader 𖥔 ݁ enemies but secretly in love and oblivious, fluff. LIB? word count `2375

prompt. wiping a bit of frosting (or smth else) off of their cheek while eating and taking it for themself from list 02. part of this event by @okwonyo

JAY VER. JAKE VER. SUNGHOON VER: one-sided

"you look like a chipmunk," and i wanna kiss you so bad right now. sunghoon really wishes he could do that, grab your jaw, fingers digging into your soft puffed cheeks, and pull you against him as he smashes his lips into yours.

he's been dreaming of it for as long as he can remember. for as long as he knew he shouldn't be dreaming of that. for as long as he knew you have hated him and for as long as he has been supposed to be hating you too.

look sunghoon doesn't really have a solid reason to hate you besides the fact that you crush on his best friend (especially when he's been here all along?) but if getting to talk to you and sticking close by comes at the cost of pretending to do, then he doesn't really mind it. though it doesn't do much because everyone, from friends to professors, everyone can see how he's been waiting on the opportunity to jump you.

and you? you are the most oblivious thing there can ever be. sunghoon could be right up in your face, whispering sweet nothings and everything in between and you'd refuse to believe he feels anything but hatred for you. if not that then annoyance? because you for sure are always annoyed at him and his flirty antics.

"shut-" he's suddenly reaching forward and across the table, hands cupping your cheek, oh god he's melting you're so soft, thumb swiping against your skin to wipe off the salad dressing. he puts it into his mouth next, sucking off the sweet sauce with an irritating smirk on his face,"so cute," a look of lure in his hooded eyes staring at you,"eat slowly baby no one's gonna take your foo-,"

"m nat yiur baby!" you interrupt immediately, speaking through the stuffed salad in your cheeks, eyes shifting back and forth to heeseung sitting beside him. praying he wouldn't misunderstand even though your insanely fast beating heart clearly knows who it's beating for.

"come on babies don't speak with full mouth, no matter how cute you look," i'm gonna die if you don't stop right now sunghoon feels like he'll combust any moment, blow his cover and mess everything up. he doesn't give a shit that your crush aka his friend, is sitting right next to him, if anything he's doing it in front of him on purpose even though he knows the boy has got no feelings for you. he has just got something for the way your face scrunches adorably when you get annoyed, and how your oh so kissable lips turn into an angry pout that does nothing to show your anger but tempt him even more.

"ou knww wat m levnig," grabbing your plate with you, you give heeseung a tight lipped cheery little smile and two short kicks under the table to sunghoon before leaving the area.

fuck park sunghoon and fuck his hotness and fuck how he gets to you every single time. your heartbeat keeps on getting higher and skipping beats with each step you take, repeatedly hearing his words in your head again and again. even more so when you hear the sound of his footsteps behind you, those very familiar clicking of his chelsea dress shoes that suit him devilishly well.

"enjoy," sunghoon leaves the table after you, patting his friend's back in a quick apology and rushing away.

"yo chipmunk cheeks! wait up for me!"

"get away!"

just fucking kiss already. lee heeseung has had it enough already. he can't stand third wheeling anymore, it's making him sick. he needs to get you two into seven minutes in heaven or something. just anything to end whatever this is you have going on with him stuck in between.

"whatcha doin baby chicks?" sunghoon's annoying ass voice has you looking up from your book, eyes following him as he drags out the chair beside yours and plops himself down smugly. he's alone. he's alone alone.

"where's heeseung?" you ask, remembering how he promised he'd bring along the boy for a study date. the sole reason you agreed to meet him in the library.

"somewhere between those shelves," sunghoon fingers point towards the rows behind your table,"probably getting you know what," he suggests, resting his head on his hands, staring at you trying to find your guy. "liar, he's not like you," you retort and it has sunghoon grinning from ear to ear,"hm, what do you think i am like?" there's a hint of amusement and a tone of teasing in his voice, it makes it hard for you to conceal your nervousness. so many times of it happening yet you still can't control the fluttering butterflies and sparks in your stomach. are you sure you're crushing on the right person? well heeseung is nice he helps you with notes from missed classes and most importantly doesn't taunt you for being second.

"a predator," nevertheless trying to outwardly stand your ground is something you have learned to do when it comes to him. do not show how weak he gets you. do not let him have the upper hand. that's been your motto since day one.

you almost feel your heart jumping out of your chest when he bends to grab the seat of your chair and pulls you closer, leaning so close to your face, you feel his breath hit your lips with every exhale,"so you must be my pretty little prey?" if you move just an inch forward you'd end up smearing your cherry gloss on his chapped lips, feeling hyper aware of every little movement from the touch of his fingers near the hem of your skirt to the little shifting you do in your seat. fidgeting and constant staring at each other's lips. the faint hovering of his palm on your thighs, the other lingering over hand resting on the table, like a cage in between,"you're gettin-"

"guys i finally found it!" you're snapped out of it when heeseung slams a pile of books on the table, hands flapping up to slap against sunghoon's chest and push him away with all the might you got.

it takes you a few minutes to settle yourself down into calm, ignoring the way sunghoon complains about being harshly shoved for apparently no reason. and smiling at heeseung as he explains how he'd been trying to look for some books on zoology which somehow happened to always be borrowed out, that is until today. you take a second look at the books he shows, hitting an embarassing realization, eyes switching between the two guys.

"wait- you were looking for these books over there?" pointing to the same rows sunghoon did initially.

"what else were you thinking in that tiny head of yours, chipmunk?" sunghoon wiggles his brows suggestively knowing exactly what you were thinking of, enjoying the way you come to the horrific realization of how you both were just flirting, more specifically of what you implied and what you didn't deny.

"nothing, shut up and do your own work!" a poor attempt at brushing it off but he'll let it go since you aren't really alone right now. a lovesick grin, eyes trained on you the entire time. only heeseung notices and once again wonders of when you'll knock it off.

"miss second place at a frat party? that's new," if there's hell, yours is definitely tied to sunghoon, your personal lucifer on guard. amidst a roaring crowd of people he still manages to find you and get on your nervous in a matter of seconds. time and again he's proven to be the bane of your existence.

"shouldn't that go for you, mr first place? don't you want to keep it?" against the counter on the far end of the kitchen, he has you trapped.

"keeping you? i think i already have it," his lips grazing over your ear as he whispers in a low voice, pulling away immediately to leave you wanting for more. "no i-" you shutter for the first time in front of him, shit.

"i meant the last assignment, i scored more than you," you sound much softer and tinier than you would have ever liked to, but your brain's in such a mess you can't think straight.

"you're so studious it's cute but chipmunk i couldn't give a shit about being second place to you, you can take my place any time you like," he gets so much closer again you start panicking, if you don't get out of here right now, losing all your pride and prudence to him wouldn't be impossible anymore.

pushing him away slightly you hope he'd give way to you,"i'm gonna go find heeseung," adding all the more reason to it. "let me help you with that," but he's adamant on not leaving you alone today. six months of watching you have a crush on his best friend and he's had enough.

dragging you out to the living room, he brings you to the couch on the other end of where heeseung stands surrounded by his group of friends. and sitting down on it, is immediately pulling you onto his lap, hands going around the waist to hold you close,"let's make him jealous," his lips brush against yours, getting a sweet taste of your lipgloss. just like how he's always imagined.

"kiss me,"

and heeseung sighs from across the room. fucking finally.

taglist. ( open ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @nanabbg @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly

[2kiran]

I don't know if you are still doing the 3K event, but if you are, can I please request subbot!John Price and domtop!m!reader with prompt O3.(be a good slut f'me and bend over, yeah?) and prompt 02. (take it - fucking take it.) if you don't mind? Maybe reader and Price are in a meeting and Price decides to be a brat and trys teasing reader under the table so after the meeting reader drags Price back to his room and teaches him a lesson?

JOHN PRICE X TOP!READER

prompts, three + two

John Price, the legendary captain that brought in an equally legendary task force. An attentive, calculated man whose needs are given to him without complaint. As much as he likes to simply receive, he prefers to take. The opportunity that built this particular moment was too tempting not to seize. Men and women surrounded the table, with him next to you. All of them were distracted, focused on the discussion, so where’s the harm?

He nods along, stretching one arm towards your lap. You tense up when you feel a hand palm your groin, hissing when you realize it was Price. Looking at him would raise potential suspicion, so you kept your outward attention on the person who was speaking. His palm rubbed in a circle, quick and short-lived. You manage to mask a surprised grunt with a cough, his fingers locking and squeezing you through your pants.

You’re about to rut into him until he takes his hand away. There’s a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he pats your thigh, returning to crossing his arms. This man. He’s skin-deep into trouble.

“What’s wrong?” Price questions.

You hurriedly pulled him to his feet right when the meeting was over, ignoring the confused glances that your colleagues gave you.

He knew what was wrong. The bastard’s heart skipped streams, excitement drumming an erratic melody in his system. Your grip on his wrist was firm, giving him the best bite of pain that’s out of the range of his imagining ability. “C’mon,” His legs struggle to maintain your pace, breath coming quick, “Answer me.”

Price doesn’t register that he’s in his own quarters until you spin him around to face his bed. Heat spreads through him, rushing south. He bites his bottom lip, a shudder ripping through him.

“Shut up.” The familiar clink of your buckle giving way has him itching to look at you. “What were you trying to do earlier, huh?” He whines at your tone, interrogative and so fucking mean. “Tryin’ to get my dick wet in front of everyone?”

“I d-don’t know what you’re—”

“Quiet.” You demand, stepping closer to him and he’s reduced to full irrationality. “Be a good slut f’me and bend over, yeah?”

His feet stutter into a few strides, acting faster than he’s able to make sense of it all. Vision darkening, his body cognizes a single purpose and it was to obey. He bunches up the sheets, no thoughts in his head as he leans over the mattress. Ass tilted upwards, feeling bare in spite of his clothing remaining intact. His cock throbs, a yelp tumbling from his lips when you yank his hips towards you. “Fuck me already,” he whines, the bubble of stubbornness exploding into a puddle of eager submission.

You don’t get to remind him when he mutters out, “Please.”

That was all that was necessary. You help him slip out of his clothes, the air caressing his sensitive skin sparks a shiver that you catch. “Where’s the—” He immediately interjects, “N-no. Use spit.” Nasty, but it would suffice. He makes haste to bring up your hand to his face, taking in two fingers. Drool piles on the floor of his mouth, his tongue pushing to coat the digits. “Mmm..” he moans, drawing them deeper with little sucks.

His saliva leaks out, dripping to your wrist. Slowly, you retract them and one finds his rim. He soothes his breathing, releasing a trembling sigh when you painstakingly thrust that finger in, rocking until he’s no longer struggling in spasms. He grunts, driving himself backwards to have you knuckle-deep, offering him a second one appreciatively. “Giv’ me it- nnnfg, that’s an order.”

“Give you what?” You spread the digits, opening him up more for you.

“Your, ah, cock. Please, want it so bad.”

Not one to disobey a direct order—not today, at least—you slide them out and fish yourself out of the confinements. Your dick swelled from the sight, wet tip circling around his hole. “Sure you can handle it?”

Before he’s able to bark out another command, you sheathe an inch into him. “Y-you—Fuuuck-” He groans, body working to lead you out, but you’re persistent. He’s throbbing around you, desperate to rut against the silky covers. Remembering your insistent instructions, he focuses his energy on relaxing. Breath after breath, face warm and sensitive. His head shook in a nod, incapable of finding the words to permit you.

Drawing your hips out, he nods again. “Oh, oh ngh!” He whimpers when you sink into him, rolling your hips until your cock is completely enveloped by his clutching warmth. Whining, his back arches as he lowers his upper body to the bed. Chest pressed to the mattress, resting his head on his forearms as he aches for the bind of release to snap at your will.

His ass is raised, jolting with each pound, practically urging him to break. “Still gonna act like a needy whore, huh?” You grip his waist, tight and bruising which offers him the constant reminisce of pain. “Gghf, ‘m-m sorry,” He shudders, clenching, “won’t do it again, ha-aah, I’m sorry.”

John Price, a man composed of muscle and earned achievements, lessened into a cock-drunk bitch. He begins to babble out whines, his speech incoherent as his brains tangle into jumbled wires. You faintly pick up on a few words switching from ‘slower, 's too much’ to ‘more, p-please, harder’. Tears pool within his eyes, and he attempts to blink them away.

“Take it,” You grunt, grinding deep into him, “fucking take it.”

He gasps, his dick twitching and yearning for a release. Fuck, he is taking it. So well, and so beautifully too. He hums in agreement, letting out a strangled cry. “M-mhm,” he huffs, small ah’s slipping from his bitten lips. John Price was in for a long night.

[fullsandwichmiracle]

"Oxford: A Year Abroad, part three”

Paring: Felix Catton x reader 

Warning: 18+, nsfw, smut, Oral, MDNI

Word count: 2006

01|02|03|04|05|?

When Y/N woke up Felix was no longer laying in the bed next to her, She pouted already missing the feeling of his skin. She crawled out of his bed and put on one of his shirts lying on the floor, it was so big on her and smelled just like him. As she walked out of his room Y/N saw Felix sitting on the sofa smoking a cigarette. Felix smiled and looked at her standing in only his open shirt and nothing else. “ Want a cigarette?” he asked, holding up the package. “No thanks, but I would kill for some breakfast,” Y/N said, plunging down next to Felix on the couch, still a bit damp from yesterday. Felix took up his phone and called up a pizzeria. “You okay with pepperoni?” he said as the phone began to call. “That will do” Y/N answered and leaned against Felix's arm as he answered the pizzeria. “ One pepperoni, thanks” he told them and gave them their address and hung up. “ They will be here in fifteen minutes” he told Y/N and put out his cigarette and began to kiss Y/N on the neck. “You're sexy in my shirt” he whispered seductively while continuing to kiss Y/N neck and shoulder and placing hickeys as he went. Y/N moaned as her eyes rolled back in pleasure. Felix began to passionately kiss her and feel up her body with his hands. 

His phone rang, prompting him to cease caressing Y/N's body as he answered. After ending the call, he exclaimed, "Pizza's here!" and stood up, leaving Y/N alone as he walked out of his apartment. Taking advantage of the moment, Y/N delved into his dorm, fueled by curiosity about Felix. In one drawer, she uncovered a car key and an unopened letter sealed with wax. Tempted to read it, she hesitated, realizing that tearing the seal would be noticeable. Continuing her exploration, she found a pair of panties under a cabinet, causing her heart to sink a bit. Even though she'd only been around for a week, she didn't like the idea of imagining him with someone else, preferring not to dwell on such thoughts, she discreetly returned them, concealing her snooping. As footsteps neared the door, Y/N quickly retreated to the couch, pretending as if nothing had occurred.

Felix opened the door, holding a pizza carton, entering and placing it on a table, he waited for Y/N to join him and take a seat. As Y/N approached the table to sit down, Felix opened the carton, grabbed a slice, and glanced at Y/N. "Hungry?" he asked with a smirk on his lips and held out a slice right in front of Y/N. “ Beg for it” he demanded and took a big bite of the slice. He liked being in control. "Can I pretty please have a slice?" she begged, looking at Felix with puppy eyes. "Who can say no to that?" he replied, taking a new slice. "Open up," he said, and Y/N did as she was told. Felix held the slice next to her lips, and she took a bite as he held it. They finished the remainder of the pizza, and as they were done, Felix declared, "Time for dessert." and hoisted Y/N from the chair and carried her on his shoulder, leading the way to his bedroom. Felix tossed Y/N onto his bed and climbed on top of her once again towering over her and making her feel so small in his presence, he then began to kiss her on her lips and then made his way down to her neck and placing small kisses as he went down to her shoulders then down to her chest. a small moan of pleasure released from Y/N lips as he began racing town to her belly. He began kissing her thighs and looked up at her telling her “ Beg for it”  as he went up to kiss her on her lips again. “Please eat my pussy Felix” Y/N begged as he kissed her around her neck once more. “When you're in my bed you will only address me as daddy,” he said, taking his hand and holding her chin. A bit aggressive “Got it” he said and placed a kiss on her squished lips. Y/N answers “ Yes, daddy” with his hand still squishing her cheeks. “ Good girl” he said as he let go of her and began tracing down her body as he had done before, this time when kissing her thighs began inching closer to her now wet and throbbing pussy. Slowly beginning to kiss her clit and then starting to circle his tongue and later going up and down between her folds. He held onto her thighs with a firm grip holding her still as he began tongue fucking her pussy. Y/N moaned, as she gripped his hair with one hand and clutched the satin covers with her other, scrunching the bedding. He began picking up the pace going faster and gripping her tighter from keeping her still as she began twitching with every stroke of his tongue. “Can I cum daddy” she moaned, barely containing herself. Felix looked up nodded quickly and began to finger her simultaneously as he tongue fucked her. The sensation became too much for her; she came and moaned, nearly screaming. He licked her clean tasting her cum before going up and Kissing her lips, he murmured, "Such a sweet dessert.". and kissed her forehead before laying down next to her. 

Y/N and Felix lingered in bed for a while until Y/N realized she should probably return to her room to prepare for the upcoming school week. "I should probably go back to my room, school tomorrow," Y/N informed Felix as she sat up. He sat up and kissed her neck from behind. “ As long as you promise to visit me during the week.” he murmured into her neck. "I'm going to try my hardest,” she answered, aware of the week packed with lectures.”Okey but I'm going to miss you,” Felix said, still kissing her neck from behind. Y/n didn't wanna leave but knew that if she stayed she wasn't going to be able to pull away from his passionate kisses. As Y/N started to leave the bed, Felix grabbed her hand dragging her back into his arms kissing her passionately on the lips. “Okay now you can leave” He said, then laid back down in bed, watching her leave. Y/N buttoned the shirt she was wearing, donned her pajama shorts, but couldn't locate her panties,She glanced back at Felix lying in bed one last time before heading out.

Upon returning to her room, Y/N layed down in her bed, pondering whether what had just happened was a dream or not. Ever since she first laid her eyes on him on her initial day during the tour she had wanted him, and now she knew he wanted her. After lying in bed, replaying the events of yesterday in her head for what seemed to be an hour or more, she looked outside and noticed the sun setting. Only having eaten a pizza the whole day Y/N put on something suitable to go and get something in the school cafeteria. 

In the cafeteria there were only a few people left as it was soon going to close for the day. She purchased a sandwich and took a bowl of soup that was free and sat down at one of the tables. Eating her dinner in silence and then tidying up and leaving. On her way back she saw Farleigh kissing someone down in a corridor.  Hearing quiet moans as she went up the stairs. Back in her room again she sat down and looked at her schedule for next week, filled with lectures and a seminar. They also had a writing assignment that started sometime next week. She recalled one of her professors mentioning it before everyone left the Friday lecture. After Y/N quickly outlined a brief schedule for her studying, she prepared for bed and packed her bag for an early morning lecture tomorrow. Lying down in bed, Y/N dreaded the upcoming week. However, she reassured herself that seeing Felix at some point during the week would make it more tolerable. She drifted off to sleep thinking about Felix and his soft brown eyes. 

As Y/N woke up the next day, she felt a wave of disappointment as she opened her eyes, realizing that Felix wouldn't be there. The warmth of the previous night's memories lingered, leaving a bittersweet feeling in her heart. As her alarm continued its persistent ringing, she snapped out of her fantasy, the remnants of last night's dream dissipating in the face of the new day's reality. She started getting ready for a day filled with lectures, choosing a stylish outfit to blend in with the evidently wealthier crowd at the school. Her homeschool covered the majority of the tuition, but she still had to pay a significant portion, and that alone nearly depleted her bank account. The struggle to manage expenses weighed heavily on her mind as she prepared for the day. To cut costs, she decided to pack a lunch, determined to avoid unnecessary spending in the cafeteria. 

Upon entering the lecture hall, she spotted her friends seated in the crowd, eagerly waving for her to join them. Their friendly gestures added a touch of warmth to the academic environment. Taking a seat next to them, one of her friends eagerly asked her to spill the details about what went down at the party. The curiosity in their eyes made her realize that her escapades had become the talk of the group. She began recounting the events, determined not to leave out any details. However, just as she was about to dive into the part where she jumped into the pool, the teacher started the lecture, forcing her to interrupt her story. The disappointment on her friends' faces mirrored her own frustration at the forced interruption. 

The day's lecture delved into various economic models, setting the stage for an upcoming paper assignment. As the professor explored the nuances of each model, the challenge of crafting a comprehensive paper loomed over the students.Y/N received the assignment to explore the Cournot model with identical goods and started contemplating what to include in her essay. The essay was relatively short, around two thousand words, and she figured it shouldn't take her more than a few days. The deadline wasn't pressing; they had until next week to complete and submit it. After attending two lectures, Y/N and her friends strolled towards the cafeteria, eager to grab lunch and catch up on Y/N's latest gossip. While recounting the events of Saturday, she intentionally left out certain details, feeling a bit reserved as the cafeteria buzzed with conversations. The awareness of the public space made her choose discretion, keeping some aspects of the story to herself. 

As the day progressed, she exited the final lecture feeling weary from the extended period of sitting and lack of movement. The physical toll of a day filled with classes left her yearning for some activity to shake off the fatigue. Upon returning to her room, she grabbed a bag and contemplated heading to the campus's swimming pool for a refreshing swim. The idea of immersing herself in the water seemed like a perfect remedy for the day's academic strain. Upon reaching the pool, she swam a couple of laps until she felt satisfied with her exercise. The rhythmic strokes and the cool embrace of the water provided a welcome break, allowing her to unwind and clear her mind from the academic demands of the day. Returning to her dorm, she took a refreshing shower and prepared herself for the next day of academic torture. 

Tag list: @celestialstar111

[draconicfool]

anonymous asked: Entry 02 for the diary prompt

02.     entry made on the best night of their life.

I really cannot sleep. Everything today has been so exhilarating and I can hardly put into words just how much has happened. What everything means.

I don't know very much about the details of everything. But I know what Sampo told me. As frustrating as I find it can be to talk to him at times, he was, for once, very straightforward and sincere. This Stellaron, the reason behind the Eternal Freeze, has been properly dealt with. And that means that there is a chance for us to learn and undo the damage that has been caused to this world we call a home.

Of course there's the addition that we could quite possibly start traveling again and I can find myself in the Tavern, but that hardly even matters at this point.

There's a chance that we can fix our home. Fools are not supposed to have homes, mind you, but this one is ours. This planet that I somehow ended up on, that I was raised on. The people that I have loved so very much for so very long. I know every name of the people in the Underworld. I know their faces and their stories. I know their dreams and that which they long for.

Finally there's a chance that we can all have something better. Something beautiful.

I think I surprised him when I kissed him for the news that he brought me, really. But I don't think I could be blamed. Anyone in my situation would've done the same, I'm sure.

I really don't have words. I think I could live thousands and lifetimes and I would never be able to express my gratitude to the Astral Express.

This planet that I call home. That my father loved with all of his heart.

We're finally being granted some sort of miracle.

And I wish, truly, that Daddy could've seen it. I'm sure he would've adored seeing the surface one last time.

I'll make sure everyone remembers you, Daddy. And what you did and learned in hopes of making our home a better place.

For now, I think I'm going to curl up with some cocoa. Sampo fell asleep on my couch and I'm half tempted to join him. Maybe I'll finally get some rest.

dear diary || accepting

[katierosefun]

!! just saw the ask game. 01 with dongsik and joowon (and 02 can fit along well here) i think there's much potential with these prompts and those two [i'm basically once again here begging for your attention aklsdjf]

<333 thanks for the prompt, anon!! // from these prompts

“Why don’t you hate me?” Joo Won asks.

His voice is hollow, about ten octaves lower than it should be. Hoarser than it should be, and Dong Sik wonders if the fool might have caught a cold. He remembers that when he’d been younger, his mother would chide him for walking home in the rain—how she’d always tell him that if he gets sick tomorrow, it’ll only be his fault, and how Dong Sik had always waved her complaints away, and now he’s tempted to say the same thing: you shouldn’t have walked all the way here.

But then he processes Joo Won’s question.

The fool isn’t looking at him. He’s still shivering near the door, rainwater dripping off his coat. He hadn’t even taken off his shoes yet.

“Why should I?” Dong Sik says at last. “That’s a waste of energy.”

Joo Won stares down at his feet. “It wouldn’t be,” he says. “You have every right—”

“Han Joo Won.”

Joo Won, to Dong Sik’s relief (and surprise), immediately stops talking.

“I don’t have the energy to hate you,” Dong Sik says. “Or the time.”

He steps down from the stair, tugging at Joo Won’s coat sleeve. The gesture makes Joo Won flinch—his shoulders bunch up, the expression on his face suddenly looking so young and childish that Dong Sik would have laughed if the circumstances were right.

But the circumstances aren’t right, and Dong Sik can just focus on the hunch in Joo Won’s shoulders and the surprise etched on his face when he helps his partner take off his coat.

“Go take a shower,” he says. “You’re probably cold.”

He hangs the coat on a hook and, when Joo Won doesn’t move, Dong Sik exhales.

“Inspector Han,” he says. “I don’t hate you.”

Dong Sik never could, he realizes suddenly—but he doesn’t say that.

“Now go wash up,” he says. “Before I change my mind.”

[jdgo51]

Pillar of Fire and Cloud of Smoke

Today's inspiration comes from:

30 Days with Jesus

by Lysa TerKeurst and Joel Muddamalle

Editor's note: Friends, If you loved Lysa TerKeurst's 40 Days Through the Bible, you're not going to want to miss her newest Bible study, 30 Days with Jesus! In this 30-day workbook, you'll draw connections between the Old and New Testaments so you can understand the Bible as one complete story - and see that Jesus is never absent from the pages of Scripture. He's there, from cover to cover, in every part of the Bible. This would be a great Bible study to do through the holidays or at the start of the new year, and it's perfect for gifting! Enjoy today's exclusive excerpt.

EXODUS 13 / JOHN 8:12–30

"Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows Me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” — John 8:12

"Do you remember traveling on a road trip before using a map app on your phone?

If you can, there’s a high possibility you remember the days of printing turn-by-turn directions from MapQuest.com. Or before that, buying a printed road map or atlas! Oh, how far we’ve come!

Getting lost, missing exits, getting turned around... the confusion can leave us feeling so vulnerable.

It’s incredibly dysregulating and sometimes downright frightening to be lost. The Israelites most definitely felt this vulnerability and anxiety when they left Egypt. Yes, they were leaving the devastating hardships of Egypt, but every step took them deeper into the unknown. And the unknown can be a frightening place to willingly walk into.

God... where am I supposed to be going?

From the start of the Israelites’ exit from Egypt, God kept His promise not just to lead His people, but to be with them every step of the way.

01 Read Exodus 13:17–18a. Take note of the words in verse 18a, especially

But God led the people around by the way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea.

How does it make you feel, reading that God intentionally led the Israelites into the wilderness?

It’s hard to understand why God would intentionally take the Israelites through such a desolate place like the wilderness. Maybe today you find yourself questioning God in a place you find yourself in.

God... why am I here? God... where are You? God... what am I supposed to be doing?

God... where am I supposed to be going?

The wilderness wasn’t God’s punishment because He didn’t care. It was where God took them because He knew something they didn’t.

God knew going the shorter journey through the land of the Philistines was a greater danger to them in the long run. If the Israelites faced the Philistines, their fear might have prompted them to turn back to Egypt. Or, they might have been tempted by the idolatry of the Philistines and turn towards false gods.

God was not unaware of the needs of the Israelites. And God is not unaware of your deepest needs. The promise of God’s presence would carry the Israelites through what appeared to be their worst nightmare in the wilderness.

02 Read Exodus 13:21–22. What was the manifestation of God’s presence that went before them?

These manifestations served two important purposes:

... The pillars led the people in the direction that they should go.

... The pillars provided boundaries and protection for the people.

Let’s zoom in on the image here. The Israelites saw the tangible presence of God leading and guiding them day and night. Even though the Israelites cried out in complaints and weariness from the journey that felt purposeless to them, God’s presence continued to guide them.

Here is one of the challenges we face when experiencing unexpected pain and suffering: We can believe there is an underlying meaninglessness to what we’re facing. But through uncovering these details within the story of Israel in the wilderness, we see there is not a single moment of our hardship and hurt that is not used by God to bring forth a greater good and purpose.

God was not unaware of the needs of the Israelites. And God is not unaware of your deepest needs.

03 The question isn’t so much about the direction in which God is leading us — it’s about our obedience along the way.

Think about where you are today. What might obedience to God look like here?

The pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire by night didn’t just lead God’s people; it also served as a protective boundary.

The people always knew how far ahead they could go. This clear boundary gave them a visible marking of what too far would be. Too far would simply be to step in front of the pillar of cloud or fire, putting them outside or ahead of the presence of God and the pace of His leading.

04 Have you experienced the Lord leading you or revealing a boundary to you? What did that look like?

Jesus is “the light of the world.”

JOHN 8:12

When Jesus says He is the “light of the world” in John 8:12, it is a promise of orientation and direction. Just like the pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire by night provided direction for the Israelites, we have this same guide in the person of Jesus.

In the darkest moments of our life, when we feel unseen, disregarded or abandoned, we can remember that the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it (John 1:5). Wherever the Light of Christ is, there is hope. This isn’t just a good-sounding Christian slogan. This is truth. And sometimes it’s helpful to speak this out loud over whatever you are facing. Remember, lies flee in the presence of truth, just like darkness flees in the presence of light.

Jesus is “the way, and the truth, and the life.”

JOHN 14:6

Where there is the light, there is the promise of life. John 1:4 says,

In Him was life, and the life was the light of men.

In Jesus, we find the life all of humanity longs for. And we can also be assured that Jesus will guide us along our way through the Truth of His Word and His presence.

Jesus is the “good shepherd” who promises to lead His people.

JOHN 10:11; JOHN 10:27

Sheep depend on the care and protection of a shepherd, and we can depend on the care of Jesus as our Good Shepherd. Read the words of Jesus in John 10:27–28:

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.

This takes some humility to lean into His guidance, but we also need to grow attuned to the voice of Jesus so we can obey when He is speaking to us. In the hard, desolate places in our lives, it can feel like Jesus is absent. But if we take a moment to pause, be silent, watch, and really listen, we can both see the light of His presence and hear the comfort of His voice.

God’s presence never departed from the Israelites, and Jesus is with us even now. We pray today that you found yourself comforted and cared for even in the hardest place you could find yourself in.

Take heart, friend. He is with you."

Excerpted with permission from 30 Days with Jesus by Lysa TerKeurst and Joel Muddamalle, copyright Lysa TerKeurst and Joel Muddamalle.

[julieduffy]

Lurk Your Way To Success in Publishing

Are you looking to find success in the publishing world?

Join me on The StoryADay Podcast as I discuss the importance of engagement in writing and publishing.

In this episode titled "Lurk Your Way to Success in Publishing", I share strategies and insights that can help you achieve your goals as a writer.

Here are 3 key takeaways from the episode:

1️⃣ Don't rush into building an author platform: While it's tempting to focus on social media presence and building a following, it's crucial to prioritize the writing itself. Spend time honing your craft and creating compelling content before diving into the world of author branding.

2️⃣ Engage with the publishing world: Stay updated by following authors on social media, reading industry publications, and educating yourself about the realities of being a writer. Become part of the conversation, learn from experienced authors, and stay informed about industry trends.

3️⃣ Define your own success: Don't let societal expectations or external pressure define your writing journey. Take the time to reflect on what success means to you personally and set realistic goals that align with your values. Remember, writing is a journey of personal growth and creativity, and your definition of success should reflect that.

🎧 Listen now!

Timestamps

[00:02:03] Engaging With The Publishing World

[00:03:42] Should You Even Pay Attention?

[00:06:54] Have a Strong Definition of Success For Yourself

[00:09:18] If You Want To Publish

[00:10:25] First Steps In Pursuing Publication - Lurk (aka 'research')

[00:11:53] Agents

[00:14:44] Queries and Book Proposals

[00:15:45] Why Submission Guidelines Matter

[00:18:33] Ways to Lurk

[00:19:35] Publishing Shorter Pieces

[00:21:56] Get Off My Lawn

[00:23:22] Be Human, Make Friends, Be Successful

[00:25:37] Where To Find Writers and Publishing Folks, Online in 2023

[00:29:04] Wrap Up

Links:

Kameron Hurley Interview

Kate McKean's Agents & Books Substack Newsletter

The Sh*t No One Tells You About Writing

  Want to go deeper? Take the 3-Day Challenge

Want to go for longer? Let me send you a** StoryAWeek writing lesson & prompt**

The StoryADay Podcast

[inkandblade]

Hello!! I love your work!! For the prompt thing, Stiles is used to his friend living in the apartment below him. He's still a little tipsy and forgets that death eyebrows Derek moved in downstairs, and breaks into Derek's place so he can make a greasy carb-loaded breakfast to share. If this is too involved maybe Derek waking up to Stiles drawing/writing on his back?

Stiles was being very quiet. Very, very quiet—as if he was hunting waaaaabits. He stifled a snort and felt his magic tingle out into his nose and fingers and feet to help muffle the sounds he was making. The floor in Jackson’s living area, unlike Stiles’ in the apartment above, was polished wood. Stiles slipped his shoes off and almost fell over as he bent down to put them as neatly as he could near the door. Jackson had a strict no shoes in the house rule.

Luckily he also had a Stiles makes the best breakfasts on the planet rule, and kept his fridge stocked accordingly. Who could say no to their handsome, magic upstairs-neighbour making them a handsome, magic breakfast on a Sunday morning?

Actually, someone who’d pulled last night could: Stiles screwed up his eyes and thought very carefully and reached his magic out towards the bedroom… Just one heartbeat. He managed to stop himself from crowing, ‘All is clear!’

Stiles couldn’t resist sliding in his socks towards the kitchen, though. He collided with the counter top with a resounding oomph. He didn’t manage to retain his snort this time, but he was pretty sure the sound didn’t travel; a Spark was an awesome thing to have when trying to hide your tipsy shenanigans—no matter how delicious—from a grumpy werewolf.

Stiles pulled the one of the blinds out a bit and saw that there was a tiny slip of sunlight just showing through the long lines of the high rises outside. He turned around and focused very carefully on the clock on the microwave. He had approximately fifty-five minutes to make his mom’s from-scratch hash browns, bacon, and chocolate-chip pancakes. The coffee machine for some reason looked different to the last time Stiles had broken in to cook breakfast, but it was set to the usual time.

Jackson was going to loooooooooove Stiles to the moooooon and back.

Stiles didn’t even try to stifle his giggles this time.

He did what he had to with the potatoes and extra fancy cheese, figured that the super-duper sourdough would make super-wonderful toast, and mixed a little extra something-something into the pancake batter in the form of a pick-me-up spell. Even if Jackson hadn’t had a big night last night, and even if he was still a bit of a prick, he worked hard. Even assholes deserved nice surprises sometimes. Stiles’ mom had always said that being kind didn’t hurt anyone.

Stiles set everything in the fridge to keep—naked as the Saran wrap wasn’t in its usual spot—then put his ass on one of Jackson’s stupid, designer kitchen stools and his head on the marble bench-top. It was far, far more comfortable than usual. Ten or fifteen minutes worth of sleep wasn’t enough, but it would do for now.

♠

The growl was expected, but didn’t sound right. Stiles opened his eyes and blinked into the morning sun and was certain that Jackson would have told him if he’d become an Alpha in the last couple of weeks. They hadn’t seen each other since the beginning of the month, but hell, that wasn’t the kind of thing you kept from someone who relatively-regularly broke into your kitchen.

It might have been the Alpha in the voice that cinched Stiles’ understanding, though. “Who the fuck are you?!”

But, really was it the voice? It was probably that this guy was, and no offence to Jackson ‘cause even if he was hot, and he was, he had nothing on this guy. Stiles sucked in a breath and tried to make his thoughts come back to something that resembled coherent. The hot Alpha in front of him was wearing designer jockey-shorts and a murderous scowl. It was entirely possible that Stiles was still quite drunk, because both of those things seemed absurdly sexy.

Stiles tried for a smooth introduction, but all that came out of his mouth was a squeak. The werewolf’s eyebrows rose in tandem and all of a sudden Stiles understood. He sat back a little too quickly and was lucky that the wards he’d put into the walls hadn’t been taken with all Jackson’s stuff—the magical safety-net righted him back onto the stool and Stiles was glad the counter was there between him and the Alpha.

He couldn’t understand how he’d forgotten that Jackson got that out-of-the-blue transfer to the other side of the country. Well, he could, but he couldn’t figure out how he was going to explain to hot-and-murderous-red-eyes that his magic sometimes fucked with his memory if there was tequila involved.  

The Alpha was still glaring, but hadn’t moved, so Stiles decided he should probably try to speak again, before the guy did come closer.

“I’m,” Stiles swallowed as the Alpha wrinkled his nose. Morning-after-tequila breath was likely not an attractive thing to such a sensitive scent organ. “I’m your upstairs-neighbour, and I seem to have made what I’m hoping isn’t actually a fatal error.” One of the eyebrows dropped, just slightly. Stiles’ brain declared that a good sign. “Full disclosure. I’m a Spark. I set up the wards on this place for the previous tenant. We’ve known each other since kindergarten. I’ve been breaking in on every other Sunday morning for breakfast for a couple of years. The amount I drank last night,” the ‘wolf’s nostrils flared again, “must have short-circuited my brain? I honestly forgot there was no Jackson here to eat my happy-face pancakes and drool over my hash browns anymore.”

The Alpha’s stomach made a very distinct noise, and his eyes faded from red to something Stiles wished he could describe. The guy glanced at his stomach and back up again, a look of betrayal pinking his cheeks. He breathed in quickly and seemed to regain his composure, saying with a stone-like face, “It’s your magic in the walls.”

That was possibly, Stiles thought, supposed to be a question. He should at least make an attempt to answer it.

“Yes. Wards. It’s what I do for a living. I can have them removed for you?” It was not something he should be doing after someone moved into a place, it usually had to happen before someone moved in, or they wouldn’t be able to stay in the apartment or house. That, well. That confused Stiles enough that he felt his brain starting to try to claw its way out from underneath the remaining fog of the alcohol.

If the Alpha hadn’t had the old wards removed, he shouldn’t be able to be here. If he had had them removed and replaced, then Stiles shouldn’t have been able to break in.

Stiles reached out with his magic again. They were definitely still his wards, and they hadn’t been altered. The Alpha huffed and Stiles realized that he must have his drunk thinky-face on.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” The Alpha looked far too amused for Stiles’ liking. If the wards on this place had failed and Stiles couldn’t feel that, then he had a major, major problem. “Hey,” the guy had taken a step closer and was waving a hand in Stiles’ direction. His nostrils were flaring in and out. “Breathe. I’m not going to hurt you, and there is nothing wrong with your wards.”

That snapped Stiles out of it, but not enough to form a coherent sentence. “But—”

“Jackson Whittemore is my cousin. He was born human, and then bitten by my Alpha mother.” He paused a few moments, possibly to let that sink in, then restated, “We share both our bloodline and biteline. That’s why your wards haven’t caused me any problems.”  

This time Stiles’ brain caught up with what was being said. He breathed out a sigh of relief and decided not to dwell on the fact that the Alpha’s nose screwed up again. Instead, Stiles decided he should probably introduce himself.

“I’m Stiles Stilinski.” He swallowed and figured that he should try to exit, stage-left, as quickly as he could. He let his mouth move as quickly as it would. “I’m very sorry for breaking into your apartment, and I promise I won’t do it again. I made pancake batter and cheesy-hash browns. The spell on the pancakes is benevolent, I swear. The potato should be fried in a mixture of butter and olive oil or they won’t taste right. I’ll replace everything, I promise.” He glanced back at the fridge. “I will need to know where to buy that cheese, though, ‘cause I have no idea.”

“You made hash browns with Cacio Bufala?” The Alpha, who Stiles still didn’t know the name of, blinked like a stoned owl. He didn’t actually look angry, though, just incredulous.

“I,” Stiles hoped his smile looked sincere, not snarky. “Yes?”

The guy laughed, and Stiles really, really wanted to know his name now. He had the most amazing smile, and his eye were lit up with something other than the Alpha power they’d had before. The fact that the man was basically naked wasn’t helping any—chiselled abs and power-house thighs and a thick treasure trail and lickable clavicles, and that was all without thinking about the dude’s face. Any moment now the guy was going to smell Stiles’ arousal over the stink of his morning-after-tequila breath. The guy twisted around as he reached for another one of the blinds and shit.

The tattoo on the guy’s back. Jackson’s Alpha was Talia Hale. Talia Hale only had one son. Stiles’ brain was definitely in danger of exploding. The man in front of him was pretty famous. He was an Alpha because he had, at the age of fourteen, ripped out the throat of the guy who’d tried to assault his older sister. Stiles was, quite possibly, lucky to be alive. Then again, the traitorous part of his brain supplied, Jackson always maintained that his cousin was a fluff-ball in disguise, once you got to know him. Stiles always assumed that Jackson was down-talking the guy ‘cause he was jealous of his cheekbones or something.

The Alpha turned back and sniffed again just as the coffee machine beeped that it was ready. He flicked his eyes down over Stiles’ stale clubbing outfit and back up, hovering a moment over Stiles’ neck. “I’m going to get you a cup of wake-up coffee, and then you are going to make me pancakes and absurdly expensive hash browns, and once we’re eating you can tell me more about the wards. If the food’s good enough, I won’t have you spell yourself out of them.”

Stiles nodded and managed to squeak out, “Deal.”

“I’m Derek, by the way.”

♠

Expensive cheese name brazenly lifted from a Mental Floss article. Prompt me or Tempt me.

[bad268]

Writing Inktober Prompts 2022

I decided last year wasn’t hard enough, so I’m doing it again. And let me just say, these prompts are SHIT for writing. We’ll see how this goes :/

01/10 Gargoyle

Seth Borden X Reader W.C. 267

02/10 Scurry Fancy

Pato O’Ward X Reader W.C. 294

03/10 Bat

Benny Rodriguez X Reader W.C. 234

04/10 Scallop Wild

Darry Curtis X Reader W.C. 260

05/10 Flame

CC! Sapnap X Reader W.C. 254

06/10 Banquet

C! Technoblade X Reader W.C. 342

07/10 Trip

Colby Brock X Reader W.C. 234

08/10 Match

CC! Quackity X Reader W.C. 273

09/10 Nest

P! CC! Philza X Reader W.C. 212

10/10 Crabby

Corpse Husband X Reader W.C. 236

11/10 Eagle

Robby Keene X Reader W.C. 272

12/10 Forgot

C! Karl Jacobs X Reader W.C. 256

13/10 Kind

GoodGuyFitz X Reader W.C. 306

14/10 Empty

C! Dream Team X Reader W.C. 438

15/10 Armadillo Injured

C! Karlnapity X Reader W.C. 351

16/10 Fowl Sleep

CC! Quackity X Reader W.C. 275

17/10 Salty

Robby Keene X Reader W.C. 264

18/10 Scrape

Sodapop Curtis X Reader W.C. 250

19/10 Ponytail

Tadashi Hamada X Reader W.C. 268 (haha)

20/10 Bluff

C! Slimecicle X Reader W.C. 247

21/10 Bad Dog Blood

Seth Borden X Reader W.C. 310

22/10 Heist Star

Johnny Cade X Reader W.C. 287

23/10 Booger Hide

Thomas Shelby X Reader W.C. 229

24/10 Fairy

Jack Frost X Reader W.C. 285

25/10 Tempting

Eli Moskowitz X Reader W.C. 288

26/10 Ego

C! Technoblade X Reader W.C. 282

27/10 Snack

CC! Dream X Reader W.C. 352

28/10 Camping

Swagger Souls X Reader W.C. 420 (haha)

29/10 Uh-Oh

Wilbur Robinson X Reader W.C. 264

30/10 Gear Swollen

Grizzy X Reader W.C. 351

31/10 Farm

Nate Hardy X Reader W.C. 300

Bonus- Misfits

iNoToRiOuS X Reader W.C. 411

Average W.C. 282

Want to read other years’ Inktober stories, check these out:

2021 // 2023 // 2024

[yuzukult]

from home 02 || jjk & reader

title: from home pairing: jungkook x reader genre: richkid!jk, baker!reader, fakedating!au, fluff, angst, e2l, smut in future chapters word count: 8.1k+ prompt: jungkook is the youngest of five boys, the last in line to truly inherit any his parents’ money. but what if his mom suddenly cuts him off due to his current poor behavior and he’s forced to learn how it feels like to be part of the working class? a/n: ;n; wishing this was longer than i made it... please expect the next one to take a bit of time! but you never know. i’m unpredictable.

please let me know if you’re interested in being tagged! but also let me know if you want to be removed!  taglist: @scalubera​ @strugglingartistno16-2​

← previous chapter || next chapter →

Waking up on an unfolded futon is no comparison to a deluxe California King bed with pearly white satin sheets.

For one, it meant that he wasn’t actually on the futon itself rather on the floor instead. Jungkook has been having an exertion amount of time trying to not fall off the limited dimensions of his now mattress. In addition to that, even after going grocery shopping, he feels like he’s spending an endless amount of money on a daily just to keep his fridge stocked because every time he pulls that door open— there’s nothing in the fridge. How is that even possible?

At times like these, he missed the personal chef. Sure, he couldn’t remember the gentleman’s name, but he made a mean grilled cheese sandwich. Instead, Jungkook enjoys a sad and limp piece of string cheese for breakfast.

For once, he’s grateful that the distance from home to work is short, really being an approximate 10 minute walk, meaning that he didn’t need to take an Uber or possibly buy a car? How did poor people transport from one place to another? He thinks of you on his route to work; the things you yelled at him the night on Hoseok’s yacht, how he purely innocently asked if he could pay for your future endeavors and the reaction he pulled from you that could only be described to be full of resentment. You really didn’t like him.

True be told, the feeling of hatred is mutual.

Jungkook dreads coming into work, mostly because the sight of you is a constant and the current impression he has of you is that you’re just plain mean and bossy. He hates that whenever he’s in the midst of a task, you manage to always slide in to critique every action he performs. How old did you think he was? Some thirteen year old with an adult job? While at the end of the line at the cashier’s station, Jungkook places the bread at the bottom of the brown bag but before he’s ready to drop the jug of milk on top, you shove his hand away. “You’re going to flatten the bread if you do it like that. Heavier duty items are at the end of the pile. Lighter and fragile items on top.” He scowls. Or when he’s in the parking lot, while lost in his thoughts, he nearly propels one of the carts directly into a moving car, and surprisingly enough, you’re standing outside beside him, swooping in with your fingers wrapped around the handlebars with sweat dripping from your forehead while halting the motions. “You almost dented that guy’s car!” He wants to tell you ‘and so what?’ but he refrains from saying anything because when he turns to look at you, you’re already halfway down the lot, making your way back indoors.

Then when he’s stacking the canned goods on the shelves, you approach him from behind and tell him that he’s doing it incorrectly. “What’s wrong about putting stuff on shelves?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone. “The labels aren’t facing out. How are the customers supposed to know what it is?”

“Turn the can around?” He says matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, so do it.” 

When you walk away, he’s tempted to grab the canned corn he’s restocking and chuck it at the back of your head, but he holds himself back. This is for his mom, for the development of himself, to prove to his brothers that he wasn’t just some useless, spoiled kid. You didn’t believe in him anyway which is probably why you’re being so difficult— oh how he wished he could ask for a replacement trainer. So why waste his time trying to please you when he really just needs to sway his parents? The main goal is to get the money back into his pockets anyway.

Once finishing his list of tasks, he advances toward Hoseok who’s in the middle of mopping a spill in one of the aisles. Apparently, someone had dropped a jar of pickles, filling up the place with the stench of vinegar, scrunching up Jungkook’s nose. “Is she always this mean?”

Hoseok glances up from the pile of pickles on the ground, chin resting on the handle of the mop, discouraged to clean the mess. “Who?” 

Jungkook skims the area to confirm that the coast is clear before he whispers your name discreetly. “I feel like she’s looking over my shoulder 24/7. It’s like she’s out to get me. Maybe she wants to catch me doing something stupid and get me fired.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes in response before finally crouching down to throw the scattered pickles into the trash bin beside him. “No, she doesn’t. You’re her responsibility, so if any higher ups saw you fucking around or fucking up and find out that she’s the one who’s supposed to train you, she’d lose her job. She can’t afford that, Kook.” Jungkook sighs, observing Hoseok as he’s trying to gently pick up the piece of glass that’s drenched in the juices. “Well? Are you just going to stand there and watch after what I just told you? Help me!”

Abiding by instruction, Jungkook still sighs heavily, bending his knees to grab the pickles cautiously between his index finger and thumb. This is rancid, and the way his face contorts in disgust when he flings it into the trash can says it all. He can’t believe that he’s in this position right now when he could be sitting in the middle of a golf course on a Wednesday morning, enjoying his fifth glass of merlot, with a pretty girl by his side, complimenting him every time he swings his golf club. “I miss the rich life. I don’t know how you do this everyday. Is this even worth it for you?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he grabs the last piece of glass on the floor as Jungkook tosses a handful of pickles he grabbed previously. “I just didn’t want my parents controlling where the money was going anymore. And I got tired of being called a prodigal. I wanted to be someone who could do things themselves without having my parents giving me money.”

“But how could you hate that! Isn’t that their job as parents? Taking care of you, giving you more than you need? That includes money. We’re just lucky because our parents are rich.”

Standing up from his position, Hoseok brushes his hands off on his apron as Jungkook follows in suit. “But that’s what I mean. Do you hear yourself? The ‘we’re just lucky because our parents are rich’ thing is getting old. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be just as rich but I want to be wealthy myself, not because my parents gave me the means to be.”

Hoseok makes a point but not one that Jungkook can fully grasp onto. He understood where the older male was coming from, but truth be told, Jungkook still wanted his parents’ wealth in the end. Hoseok had dreams he was chasing, ones where cutting ties from his parents would be beneficial but to Jungkook, he didn’t have any aspirations of his own to obtain like that.

“Anyway, I digress. She means well. She needs this and that café job too. Her parents don’t have any type of money, if anything, she purposely cut herself off from them so that they wouldn’t have to pay for her. Moving back home is her personal embarrassment, just like how being kicked out of your home is yours.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Hoseok pulls his lips into a tight line, dropping the mop into the bucket to extract the vinegary liquid out. “Work with it. Be better than what she’s asking for. I learned a lot from her and I’m sure you can too. Who knows? Maybe she’ll pick a couple things from you along the way.”

That’s when he tests the waters.

For the past two hours, that’s exactly what Jungkook does. He tries. Harder than usual. When you walk by, he is especially polite to customers with the brightest smile his cheeks will allow. Or when he’s back to organizing cans on the shelves, he’s attempting to show all the labels, but you’re back, questioning why he’s even stacking cans with dents in them. Then there’s the time he’s standing at the station for the self-checkout... but he gets distracted while playing on his phone and you nearly smack the living shit out of him. 

“Why do you freaking hate me so much?” He exasperates, arms dropping at his sides from frustration. The shift is finally over, thank god, but he’s still on edge as to why you always have something to say, so he chases after you into the locker room. “All you do is attack me the entire day and it’s already difficult for me to adjust to being here.”

“Listen, I get it. It’s hard. Well, I don’t really get it because I’ve been working most of my life, but this is completely new territory for you. Regardless, you still have to learn how to do this, Jungkook. Your parents aren’t going to be supporting you anymore.” Wrong. Wrong because in his mind, his parents are going to welcome him with open arms when he proves his capabilities. This situation is only temporary. “So, I want to help you. If you really need anything, here’s my number. Call me.”

“Is this a way for you to get my number?” Jungkook raises a brow suggestively. Clicking your tongue, you circle back into your locker, grabbing your bag of items. “Trust me, you would’ve known if I wanted to get in your pants. Plus, I’m giving you my number, not asking for yours, dumbass.” Flinging a crumpled piece of paper at his forehead that so happens to have your number on it, he pouts after rubbing his head. “Rude.”

“Jungkook,” You’re speed walking out of the supermarket with Jungkook trailing behind you as quickly as he can keep up with. Did you run track before? “I really don’t want to hear your excuses about why you were snooping on me while I was changing my shirt.” He didn’t see you changing, he merely caught a glimpse, but even so, it was only a bit of your tummy that he saw.

Nonetheless, he knows you’re just joking because of the light laughter that escapes from your lips afterwards that sounds like the melody of his favorite song. Maybe you weren’t so bad after all. Maybe it was just a facade you had to put up at work most of the time. “I wasn’t—“ 

“Jungkook.” 

You freeze at the sound of his name; Jungkook’s reaction is delayed as he bumps into you from behind while his head turns to the voice. “Jungsik Hyung.” 

Jeon Jungsik. Also labeled as the 3rd child or middle son of the Jeon Family. He’s known to be the philanthropist, the humanitarian of the Jeons, donating his percentage of the earnings from his family’s corporation to a different charity each time he’s the headline of an article. Jungsik in person is even more handsome than the pictures you’ve googled online; simply breathtakingly beautiful just like his personality and heart. Undercut hair with a navy blue suit that compliments his figure, he has a clean appearance with a demeanor that is nothing more than a calm and gentle nature. Despite all the greatness he possessed, he unfortunately had to go through the loss of his late wife, who the doctors had discovered she had cancer, later choosing to spend her last days in Africa, teaching the children English.

You may have looked up the prettiest Jeon brother on every search engine on a random Tuesday night, sitting on the floor with your laptop perched on the coffee table, glass of moscato in hand. Dating a guy like him would be a dream— yet, there you were, getting shit-faced drunk on moscato with a mud mask that was hardening on your face. 

Your thoughts are interrupted at the tail end of Jungkook’s introduction between you and his brother, bowing abruptly at the realization. “... She works here. Currently occupied with training me.”

Jungsik grins, pearly whites blinding your eyes. “Admirable. Thank you for looking out for our little Kook. He’s not the best at working, so I figure he must’ve made things difficult for you.”

“Occasionally,” You joke, replicating the contagious smile on his face. “But don’t worry, Jungkook will get there. Once his training portion is over, I’m sure he’ll manage.” That’s not what you said at Hoseok’s yacht, is what he wants to say, but definitely not in front of the angelic brother. Jungsik chuckles deeply at your response, tips of his ears flushing pink at your interactions, and it makes Jungkook cringe.

“That’s great. I’m sure that you two have had a long day, so is there any way I can treat you guys to dinner?”

You can feel Jungkook’s hot breath down your neck, fuming with anger with smoke probably whistling out of his ears. “Why, why, why did you agree for us to have dinner with Jungsik? This is the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me!” He whispers aggressively beside you but you only ignore his reaction by flipping another piece of pork on the grill. “And why the hell would you suggest coming to this dump? He said he would take us out to a five-star restaurant!”

Admittingly so, a Korean BBQ joint located in some-what of an alleyway is far from a fancy restaurant, but this place was good, your favorite, and why not introduce Jungsik and Jungkook to food that doesn’t need caviar for it to be considered delicious? 

Jungsik excused himself, looking kind of out of place in this low-ceiling location, but he forced a smile anyway before looking for the bathroom. “We can just tell him that we have to go or that you’re not feeling so well. He’ll let us make a run for it, trust me.”

You glance over at Jungkook. “You can do that. I’m staying.”

“But why!”

“Because he seems nice.” You’re adding more meat on the grill again. “Plus, I’m starving. I was going to come here anyway.” Jungkook pauses, watching as you casually maneuver the food with the prongs. “... You were going to eat alone?”

Dropping the prongs, you pick up your set of chopsticks to grab yourself a piece of kimchi. “Well, yeah. Who else am I supposed to eat with?” You shake your head, jumping back on topic. “If you want to leave, feel free. I’m still going to be here.”

“Hell no. I’m not leaving you with Jungsik hyung.”

Tilting your head with narrowed eyes, you blink. “What’s wrong with Jungsik? He’s literally an angel. Like I actually can’t believe that you guys are brothers.”

Jungkook chews on his bottom lip anxiously as if he’s holding back. “I just think he’s not a good guy. So I’ll stay.”

“Sorry I took so long,” Jungsik places his blazer on the seat beside him, rolling up the sleeves of his white button up. “I just needed to wash up. So... how long have you been working at my mother’s supermarket?”

You hum in thought, counting the months from when you first started. It was during University, possibly around the time you were starting your second year... “Probably around three years? And the café... maybe two? I think I’m approaching two.”

Jungsik’s mouth gaps open. “Wait, you work at my mother’s café as well?” Nodding in response, you place a couple of the meats onto Jungsik’s plate as Jungkook eyes you carefully. “Tuition doesn’t pay itself. And I plan to start a business one day, so two jobs is the only way to get to that finish line.”

“I—I offered to pay,” Jungkook interjects into the conversation, feeling like he’s the third wheel suddenly. “I told her she didn’t need to work the two jobs and I’d help her pay for the bakery.” That’s when Jungsik’s gaze meets Jungkook’s; his stare is unreadable and Jungkook can’t place a finger on what’s running through his mind. “Are you two... dating?”

“Why does everyone ask that?” 

“Well, Jungkook is offering to pay for your business,” Jungsik begins, watching the expression on his younger sibling’s face who reciprocates the action, “and he never does that.” He pauses for a moment before breaking the staring competition with Jungkook, fixating back onto you. “But then again, Jungkook spends the family’s money heedlessly, so that’s expected. I’m sure your business is legitimate, but Jungkook probably didn’t even do any research before gifting you that proposition. And I don’t really see Jungkook in a relationship, let alone someone like you, anyways. No offense. I think you’re great, hence why I don’t think he could even land you.”

Cheeks flushing pink, you dip your head. “Thanks.”

There it was. Even when in front of a stranger, Jungsik is just like his other brothers, shamelessly speaking about Jungkook in a condescending manner. Jungkook confesses that Jungsik’s hypothesis is right— Jungkook did exactly do all those things he listed, but that doesn’t mean anything. It was a kind gesture, one that he figured Jungsik would’ve done himself, and he couldn’t see what was wrong with the decisions he had made. You were passionate about a dream, realistic with the expectations, and had mutual friends with him. He felt like despite the constant bickering, he still trusted you. More than his own siblings, at least.

The silence between the three of you was swelling, tension predominantly between the two males, so you shatter that glass by placing some beef on Jungkook’s plate. “Try that.”

“... You want me to try that? I don’t eat regular grade beef.”

“Well kid, you do now because you can’t afford any of the kobe stuff. Come on, Jungkook, just give it a shot.” Grabbing a bed of lettuce, you place a piece of garlic, swipe of gochujang paste, and drop a slice of beef onto it before wrapping and bringing it close to his mouth. “Here, try it like this.”

Jungkook can feel it. The way Jungsik studies the actions between you and Jungkook was a test. Jungsik traveled far and wide, spent time in first and third world countries, eating things that Jungkook can only imagine of eating... well, he doesn’t want to imagine some of those things, but ultimately enough, he’s testing the waters. Jungsik would go home later that night, report this to the other four siblings and to his parents in the luxurious dining room where they’d have their meetings, which meant one thing: he had to eat this concoction that you’ve created.

You lift the lettuce wrap up, gesturing him to open wide. Slowly, he parts his lips, just enough for you to thrust it into his mouth as he winces, the juices from the meat spilling out from the sides. As you wipe the spill with a napkin, his eyes dilate with a sparkle. "Holy shit. That's good."

Jungsik lets go of a breath he's been holding. "I didn't think you'd actually eat that. Don't think I've seen you eat anything without caviar, gold flakes or truffles."

Jungkook turns to his older brother, cheeks full of the lettuce that you've fed him. "Well, you thought wrong. I'm different now, hyung, and it hasn't even been that long since I've left home."

"Correction, since mother kicked you out." He retorts, attention turning back onto you. "Anyway, thank you. This amount on my plate should be enough for me tonight as for I already had a very large dinner before stopping by the market. I'm going to have to leave after this— but feel free to order as much as you like, I'll keep my card on the tab."

"Oh," Face crimson, you wave your hands in front of you in disagreement, "Don't do that. I don't mind paying."

"No, no," Jungsik says, taking a mouthful of the meat into his mouth. "It's the least I could do since you're looking after my little brother. After all, he needs all the help he can get."

When Jungsik says goodbye and exits the store, Jungkook found it inevitable to ponder why his brother decided to come by anyway. Despite his common reputation of being the sweetest and most caring Jeon, he was known to be devious to those who were close to him, shady majority of the time, and every step he made had a reasoning behind it.

The moment Jungsik steps out of the restaurant, he spits out the chewed up beef behind the door, eyes meeting with Jungkook through the windows before a mischievous smile stretches from cheek to cheek. What was he up to?

Inhaling sharply, he shoves it under the rug for future thought. "Enjoying the food?"

"Mmm," You hum, cheeks full of rice and kimchi, an unrecognizable amount of joy written across your face. "So good. Definitely worth dealing with you and your brother's weird relationship. Is this what it's like with all of your siblings?" In spite of the grain of rice stuck to your chin, he oddly thinks this sight of you is... cute. 

"Usually. They aren't really fans and disagree with almost all of my life choices except for going to University. I graduated with all honors and on the Dean's List multiple times yet I'll never be up to their standards."

"Well, to be fair, those gossip magazines talked a lot about your scandals." You grab a napkin to wipe the area around your mouth and he suddenly misses the rice that rested on your face.

"What? A twenty-three year old guy can't sleep around? What's wrong with that?"

You shake your head in response, leaning back against the metal chair that begins to bring discomfort to your tailbone. "Nothing wrong with that, but your choices on who you decide to bed is definitely controllable. You keep luring in those rich girls who do nothing all day but spread rumors and make it their life goal to assure your life is a living hell." Tapping your fingers against the table, your lips purse up in thought before resting your arms beside your plate. "Wanna order some drinks? It's on your brother's tab and you seem like you need to loosen up a little."

Five shots of charm soju in, Jungkook's supple skin is flushed red. 

"I only sleep with those types of girls because I think they have somewhat potential in dating me. But in the end, they're all the same. So I just end the night with a quick bang and go home." Strangely enough, even with Jungkook's history with drinking, he's actually a lightweight. You'd think he had a better tolerance with his constant intake but you've been proven otherwise.

Eyes hooded and face pressed against the palm of his hand while his elbows rest against the wooden table, he hums to an unfamiliar tune. "I just want to get through this part of my life. Bring home someone who's steady, realistic, and liked by my entire family where they actually have hope in me again."

"You can, just don't bring any of those girls home again." Alcohol doesn't hit you as hard as Jungkook does, or at least, five shots doesn't, but you admit you're a bit tipsy. "I'm sure someone like that will fall for you. You're like... pretty and with money."

He scoffs. "Hoseok would frown at that response. He hates when people associate him with his parents' wealth. I don't understand it."

"It's like when your family thinks you're incapable of working hard. People think he's incapable of working, too. In this case, associate him with his parents' money, and for you, they just think you won't make it out here alive because of your choices. You're both on the path of proving yourselves competent." 

There's silence between the two of you, Jungkook deep in thought. 

If Hoseok was on the same route as he was, why was Hoseok's approach entirely different? Why didn't he feel the same drive and motivation as Hoseok does, and why does it make him believe that there was another way to solve this issue? Instead of trying to make enough money to move out, he could just feed off of his parents' money and use it towards something else, earn money off of that and spend that newly collected money that was now truly his. Which brings to question, how can he hit two birds with one stone? Both introduce his parents to someone who was totally out of his league yet loved by them and demonstrate his ability to work?

Bingo. The answer is sitting right there in front of him. You.

You were a hard-working middle class citizen. From juggling two jobs to being a graduate at some University, you knew what it felt like to be poor. You hated people who bathed in wealth, especially when it's claimed to not be their own and stood for your beliefs. If Jungkook brought you home to present to his parents, they'd be so jubilant that he could imagine his stubborn, stone-cold face father doing cartwheels, mother's cheeks in pain from all the grinning, and brothers looking defeated, envied erroneously. 

"Tell me a bit more about yourself, I feel like I don't really know you." There. If he studies you enough, maybe you'd be willing to jump in on his plan. After all, he still has to determine what he can offer you in this portion of his scheme to convince you to deceive his family, especially since you seemed to be fond of both Jungsik and his mother. "... Why are you suddenly interested?"

He shrugs. "I just wanna know. Where did you go to school, why did you choose a bakey, etcetera. If I'm going to be working with you, I should probably get to know you a bit better. Maybe I'll feel more inclined to cooperate." It was like in mere seconds, Jungkook wasn't intoxicated anymore— completely sober.

So you play his little game, it wouldn't hurt, right? "Got a scholarship to study abroad, so I was in New York for a couple years. Don’t get me wrong though, since it’s the US, it wasn’t a full scholarship, but I didn’t have any other opportunities that I wanted. Then graduated with a degree in Food Science. Then parents needed some money so I had to come back right after graduation and pick up a job at your mom's supermarket, paid off their debt and now I'm just trying to pay off mine. I also needed to put some sense to my degree and well... I loved baking in my free time. It was all I did when I was stressed from exams."

"You studied in New York?" If he wasn't sober a couple minutes ago, he was now.

You nod in response, finishing the last portion of pork that sits idly on your plate. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"But you started working at the market three years ago?" He asks, the space between his brows crinkle, trying to count the months in his head. He also takes note that he's older than you and that it'd come in handy later. "It doesn't make any sense."

"I finished high school early." The sizzle of the grill dies down, the ventilator shutting off from the lack of smoke. "I jumped a couple grades."

"A... couple grades. A couple grades, it doesn't sound like just 'a couple,' you literally graduated college at the age of what... fifteen?" He heaves, completely taken aback by this new information. "And then graduated college at eighteen? Yet you're working at a grocery store and some coffee shop when you could be running an entire company." 

"Well, when you say it like that—"

"Okay, I have a proposition for you. Let's date." You nearly choke on the water you're drinking. "What?"

"Fake date, really. Be my fake girlfriend. You're a year younger than me, got a college degree at eighteen with attainable aspirations that I could cater to once my parents give me access to their money again. The entirety of this conversation is only giving me more reasons to invest in our relationship, to invest in you, and it'll benefit me in return." You squint your eyes at him suspiciously, but he continues. "My mom already likes you. Jungsik even thinks you're too good for me and that there's no way that you'd ever date me. If you actually did, imagine the look on his face!"

"Jungkook," You sigh, running your fingers through your loosen strands of hair. "I don't know. This seems wrong, lying to your family. They only want the best for you."

"Absolutely not. My brothers want to see me fail. If you agree to do this, I can show you what I'm talking about." 

Hesitant, you nibble on the hardened dry skin on your lips, heart racing in uneasiness. "But you'd be giving up a lot. No more flings, no more getting wasted... you'd have to be completely serious and on board if you do this. It has to be convincing. But at the same time, how long and how are we going to keep this up?"

"Maybe until you get your shop up and running so that you're able to stabilize it yourself. I'm sure that wouldn't take long anyway, and it would be a great business deal if we go through with this. You'd be out of debt, starting your own bakery, all in a shorter span of time than intended. And all you have to do is come home with me to see my parents occasionally, attend some events, hold my hand, maybe exchange a couple kisses— but nothing out of your comfort zone though, I respect boundaries."

With how his hand gestures move, and how the ideas flow from his mind so effortlessly, you could've sworn that Jungkook was a con-artist. His words were a shell of plausibles and credibility— up to the point you had to tell yourself to stop and take a breather because all this material was starting to sound reasonable, and from your lack of experience with Jungkook, he wasn't the most reliable person you've met. "I'm going to have to think about this. As great as it sounds for me, it doesn't seem like much of a character development path for you."

"But it would," he asserts, putting emphasis in the way he speaks, "I'm investing in something I believe in. A business, one that I see potential in, in a person that I see potential in."

"Jungkook, you met me last week."

"Which is why it makes it even more impactful!" He exclaims, arms thrown in the air. "I know you hate me. But you have the qualities of what would help me get myself back into the estate. I'm not even sure if I'm written out of the will yet, and I'm praying that this whole 'changing' thing won't take so long that the idea is going to be thrown out the window." 

"I really don't hate you, I just want people like you to be more aware of what's going on in the real world. They all view the lives of people like me through a sheer shower curtain with diamonds and pearls wrapped around their bodies, laughing away. It's like you don't see the problems we face everyday."

"And as much as I don't want to do that, let that be part of the deal. Get one 'ignorant' rich guy out of that stereotypical pool, and teach me how to be better. Then, I'll also be on the road to being a more... empathetic and educated man."

Puffing up your cheeks, you look away for a brief moment. “I still want some time to think about this.”

“That’s fine. But also, one more thing.” You turn your gaze to fixate back onto him. “Yeah?”

“Don’t eat alone if you don’t have to. Call me, I’ll keep you company.”

"... So I asked her to be my fake girlfriend." Jungkook ends the story of how your ‘fake love’ blossomed under the fluorescent lighting and smoke from the grill at a barbecue shack hidden in an alleyway.

Hoseok's jaw drops to the floor. "W-What?" He stutters, appalled by Jungkook's proposal for you. How could Jungkook just bring up an arrangement like that so effortlessly? Without even a second thought? "And what did she say?"

"That she needs to think about it a little more."

He sighs of relief, pushing his hair back through his fingers. "Good. Because she has a horrible history with guys. It always seems to go down in flames. I could only imagine what it means if she dated you."

"It's a fake relationship, what could possibly go wrong?"

"You might fall in love with her. Or worse, she'll fall in love with you. Literally every fanfic and romance movie trope that has to do with fake dating. Plus, imagine if she fell in love with you." He shivers at the thought.

“What’s wrong with me? Why are you making it sound like it’s the worst thing ever if she even so likes me like that? I don’t even think she’ll fall for me anyway. The mere thought of me seems to disgust her.”

Grabbing another box of cereal to restock, he rolls his eyes. "You really don’t get it, do you? It’s more like... you're not going to be serious about her if she did. You don't even know what it means to be in a committed relationship, let alone know how to handle a fake one. If she falls in love with you, she's done for. Then her guy streak really is horrible. You’re putting her in a tough spot, Jeon."

Tearing open another cardbox box full of inventory, Jungkook frowns in thought. What if you did fall in love with him? How would he go about that? Would he still invest in your business then? Taking a moment to let the ideas sink in, he’s already decided. "I'd still invest in her." He concludes. "Isn't that part of the journey? Learning how to be professional? If she falls in love with me, I'll give her space. But I still believe in her business and her goals to open one."

"But you don't even know her," Hoseok reminds him, stopping in the midst of his actions. "She really needs this. If you so much have any doubt of leaving this plan, she'll be devastated. Everything that she has worked hard for has to be halted because she trusts you. You can't play with people's lives like that."

"It's just a business," Jungkook clarifies, but Hoseok shakes his head in dismissal. "This is her life's work, Jeon. Have you even really talked to her about this? You need to either call this off or have a written contract or something because you're not only diminishing her love life, but her dreams too. So really think about this."

Jungkook slouches, body barely standing up against the shelves. “She still has time to decide. Trust me, Hobi, if she does fall in love with me, I’ll take care of her and make sure that she’ll still be able to have the business.” Hoseok eyes Jungkook in disbelief. “You found out she’s younger than you, didn’t you? I can already hear it in your tone. Don’t overlook the age, she’s still lightyears of experience ahead of both of us combined.”

unknown [6:22PM]: so, what’s the verdict? unknown [6:23PM]: my fault, it’s jungkook.

Letting out a large exhale, you shut your lids, phone in the palm of your hand after viewing the texts, allowing your body to fall against the wall behind you.

It’s another late shift at the coffee shop, one that ends around 2am before the cycle of waking up for an additional eight hours at the Jeon market. Although the bags and dark circles that begin to reside underneath your eyes are evidence to your exhaustion, gradually taking a toll on your body. The days were getting shorter, nights stretching longer, and you weren’t sure when your next day off would even be.

Then the thoughts of your loans come to mind. There was another email sent to your mailbox, reading that the next bill was approaching and due soon, causing the weight on your shoulders to inflate. If only the figurative load built your muscles because then you’d be able to pick up a job on a construction site, possibly making a bit more money than you do now with both jobs combined.

You glance at Jungkook’s text again. 

The belief that you were independent goes out the window if you cave into Jungkook’s premise. You were practically selling your body at that point... but your personality was part of the package as well. Then there was the lying— you admit, being yourself around the Jeons was easy, but having to lie to them about dating Jungkook seemed... difficult. They were relatively smart people, what if they’re able to see right through your act? And what about Jungkook’s past? Would it continue to haunt you during the relationship?

For instance, what about the women he dated? Rephrase: slept with. There’s pretty much a guarantee that scandals would arise with the announcement that Jungkook was going steady with someone who wasn’t an aristocrat, a child of money. What about you stood out that Jungkook would fall for you to convince other people that you were good enough to be part of their world?

But you go back to your debt.

The biggest regret yet also your biggest accomplishment was going to college in New York.

The expansion of knowledge you were able to obtain during your years there was irreplaceable. If anything, really, it molded you to the person you are today. But at the same time, the debt was like a dark, rainy cloud that followed you around wherever you went. 

Having to plan your every expense week by week was draining. 

Declining meetings with friends because you couldn’t afford to pay for your portion of the meal, let alone for everyone else.

Jungsik offering to pay for dinner despite your inclination to decline and pay for yourself was a blessing. Veritably thankful that he didn’t take your ‘no’ as answer and left his credit card, if you were being completely honest, you wouldn’t have picked that location if you knew he wasn’t going to pay for it. It’s been a while since you were able to afford KBBQ.

You weren’t poor, no, or at least, you believed yourself not to be. Just... all your money seemed to go toward your debt and savings account for the bakery.

Feeling demoralized, you’re tempted to text Jungkook to let him know you’re surrendering, but he beats you to it.

unknown [6:30PM]: i just want to be able to help the both of us. you can lead the relationship, i’ll follow. i know how much your independence means to you, so... i’ll bottom. unknown [6:31PM]: be mine? you [6:31PM]: 🏳️ (white flag)

Sliding your phone back into the back pocket of your jeans, you make your way back behind the counter with two girls who studied at the university nearby, giggling and slapping each other’s arms elatedly. You’re slightly envious of their lighthearted laughter, wishing that you could do so freely without this heavy feeling in your chest, yet you push those feelings aside anyway, a smile tugging on the edges of your lips. “What are you two laughing about?”

“Jiwoo has a crush!” Injae exclaims, pushing the aforementioned girl to the side with a cackle. “She saw him working at the supermarket you worked at the other day and I swore I saw her staring at him in awe, a river of drool coming out of her mouth. Should’ve put a wet floor sign—“

“Injae!” Jiwoo whines, bottom lip jutting out. “Stop embarrassing me in front of Unnie. She probably thinks we’re immature.” Not really. You kind of wished you had a crush too. The butterflies in your stomach, hands palmy and cheeks flushed pink. Eagerness to see the person; each touched exchange making your heart race faster... “Who’s the guy?”

Injae glances over at you mischievously as you watch her prepare to get hit by Jiwoo. “Jeon Jungkook—” Slap slap slap. Injae’s arm is definitely going to be red tomorrow morning if not right now. But oh, Jungkook? The one you just agreed to date about 5 minutes ago over text?

“I think he has a girlfriend.” You respond uneasily, chewing on the nail of your thumb anxiously. “Who?”

“Hey,” The three of you turn to the customer, quickly straightening your postures and aprons until your eyes meet his, halting your breath. Jungkook has a knack for timing because there he stands, hair disheveled from probably rushing over, in a grey hoodie and baby blue jeans with tears at the knees. “What’s good here?” Yet his gaze doesn’t shift from you. Legs rooted into the ground, mouth parted in surprise, you finally shake yourself out of ice before clearing your throat. The girls seem to be just as stunned as you are because they haven’t moved an inch.

“Cold brew is my personal favorite. But if you want a safe option, americano is great too.” Logging into the iPad, you’re ready to tap in his order but grabs onto your wrist and you grimace. “Can we talk?”

“... You could just say that and not grab me, Jeon. Not everything has to be a K-Drama moment.” In all honesty, you were kind of embarrassed of the girls knowing your newly found relationship with Jungkook. He was definitely not your kind of guy, his brother Jungsik probably being closest to your ideal type and even the girls knew that.

Sitting by the window and across from Jungkook with your fingers tapping against the plastic cup with your cold brew inside, he continues to observe your face briefly while drinking a sip of the americano. You don’t even take a second to look at him, rather your attention is glued to the crescent moon out the window. “White flag? That’s all you can say?”

“How did you want me to respond?”

“Yes or no? Are you usually such a dry texter?” He rebuttals, prepared for anything you throw his way. He’s learning, you take note, because he usually just stands there dumbfounded whenever you’d shoot back with a response.

“Yes, it means yes, I surrender and I agree to your terms. We can date, I’ll be your girlfriend, you can be my boyfriend, blah blah.”

“Not my terms,” He says, rephrasing his text. “Your terms. You’re leading this relationship, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable just because I suggested the idea. I’m not a jackass, you know. I don’t even sleep with women who say no.”

“Are you supposed to get a ‘congrats’ or reward for that? Because that’s the bare minimum, Jeon.”

“You know what I mean,” He retorts back. “I respect women.”

“But lead them on and sleep with them even though you know that you don’t want a relationship with them but they want a relationship with you—“

“Now I have you.” Jungkook interrupts firmly. “I’m having a serious, committal relationship with you. No more of those girls anymore.” You nearly felt your heart swell out of your chest cavity but you remember that he’s just saying it to convince you to date him, despite the fact that you’ve already agreed to it.

“I don’t get where you’re going with this conversation. If you got the answer you wanted and expected to hear, I’m leaving. I’m still on the clock, you know.”

“Quit then.” You scoff at his swift resolution. He’s too impulsive. “I can’t just quit. I need the money.”

“I said I’d help you pay for those things, did you already forget? That’s what this arrangement is all about.” 

Rolling your eyes, you stand from your seat, snatching your drink along with you. “In case you forgot, you don’t have the money yet. I agreed to be your girlfriend, happy?” He looks like a puppy with his round eyes peering through his shaggy hair, grin stretching from cheek to cheek. “I am. This means you have to let me do boyfriend things for you.”

“Fine.” You respond through your gritted teeth. Truth be told, you want him out of the café as soon as possible because the college kids behind the counter were starting to whisper. “But you still have to treat this professionally when we’re at work.”

“Deal, love.” His teeth are peeking from his excitement. You squint your eyes at him. “Jungkook.” You warn.

“You’re at work, I’m not.”

You’re going to strangle him.

Walking out of the supermarket after another long night shift, you’re stuck between Jungkook and Hoseok as they exchange stories of parties they previously attended, emitting a sigh from you.

“Tired of our old shenanigans, baby?” Jungkook teases, tugging on the sleeve of your jacket. Hoseok shoots Jungkook a glare. “You’re going to die tonight if you keep that up, man. She’s scary when she’s mad.”

“Oh please. She likes it when I play around.” The innocent smile on his face makes you want to punch it in. “No,” Hoseok says, pulling Jungkook over to his side and looping his arm with yours. “She’s hungry. Let’s go tame this beast.”

Jungkook just stares.

The three of you are at a 24 hour convenience store just outside his house, three bowls of ramen prepped at the table while you all sit on the stools provided. “What’s this? How was it made so fast?”

“It’s ramen, dumbass,” You hiss, breaking the wooden chopsticks that Jungkook watches in reverence. “It’s literally called instant ramen. You’ve never had it before?”

“I’ve had ramen in Japan.”

“Oh, dude, you’re going to be so disappointed when you have this then.” Hoseok laughs then winces when you kick his shin underneath the table. Gesturing the bowl and Jungkook to Hoseok, he frowns, tearing the paper wrapping off the chopsticks and hands to the younger male. “Do what she just did. Break it.”

“Break... this? Chopsticks? Who invented these?”

“Does it matter?” You chime in. “Just break it. Hurry up, we’re trying to show you how this works so we can eat. Why are you acting like an alien? You’ve seen chopsticks before.”

“Well, honestly, at the Jeon estate, we only use—“

“Fuck what you use at the Jeon estate. We’re at the...” Turning to look at the sign above the store, you point to the logo. “... KTH 24 CONVENIENCE. They’re telling us to quickly break our chopsticks so we can go nomnom.” Rapidly, he attempts to snap the chopsticks, only for it to crack unevenly and you stifle a laugh.

“... Good try,” Hoseok shakes his head, tearing the rest of the lid off of the bowl. “Maybe you’ll be better next time. You’re stuck with your screw up now, but least you can still enjoy your shitty bowl of ramen noodles.”

Jungkook swallows. The sight of the noodles floating in soup that looks painfully diluted with water, the aroma from the bowl was still alluring. Stirring the soup, he finally picks up a portion with his wonky chopsticks, blowing on it before taking a bite.

It’s... actually not bad.

“How is it?” Your voice is calmer and much more soothing than it had been a minute ago, but he makes the assumption that it’s because you’ve finally gotten food in your stomach. He takes note of this for future reference. “Oddly enough, not bad. I kind of like it.”

“Well, get used to it. It’s cheap and efficient. You’re part of the broke squad now, Jungkook.”

Broke Squad. Feels nice to be part of something.

[yamagucji]

Iwaizumi lashing out on his s/o

request: “Welcome on Tumblr ! May I ask for Iwaizumi being stressed and lashing out on his S/O in front of the team resulting at making his S/O apologies, feeling embarrassed, before leaving the gym 😔 Sorry if it’s too much” -anon

pairing: iwaizumi x gn!reader

warnings: a pinch of angst

a/n: i got some good writing practice w this prompt so i might’ve gotten a little overboard with the details🥵 if u don’t wanna read all that just skip ahead to paragraph 8

The blazing sun illuminates through the window and into the vacant classroom. Just an hour ago the space had been occupied by an abundance of students, but now only you remained.

It feels sickly hot inside. You’ve been tempted to leave the uncomfortableness of your space had it not been for your finals binding you down to tedious studies after school. But at last, you’ve managed to complete a section of your chemistry studies and decide to call it a day.

You look at the time. 5:02 pm. You’ve got another eight minutes until the next bus comes so you quickly make your way towards the door. An object poking out from underneath Iwaizumi’s desk comes to take your attention. You realize it’s his wallet.

He must’ve left it before he went for practice. That fool. I guess I have enough time to drop it off to him. And it wouldn’t hurt to see his pretty face before going home!

You hastily exit the classroom with his wallet in hand and make a dash towards Seijoh’s gym. A bead of sweat threatens to escape from your temple and the thought of having a cold, refreshing shower is something that you begin to look forward to.

When you arrive at the gym you’re met with a vicous pack of aura. It’s feverish, even more agressive than the hot summer heat. You can hear Oikawa bickering in the distance and there’s no sign of the coach. You spot Iwaizumi, his back faced towards you.

Unbeknownst to you, the wild pack boys have aggrevated your boyfriend near his limits and any sort of bother now is enough for him to break. Unfortunately for the both of you, you were the one that was on the recieving end of his breaking point.

You stride up to Iwaizumi, calling out his name to try to get his attention. You’ve got his wallet in his hands which he had left under his desk and you’re attentive to giving it back to him as soon as possible so you can make it to your bus.

“Hajime.”

“Hajime!” You call out a little louder. He’s nearly at arms reach now.

Still no answer. You call out for the final time, grabbing a hold of his forearms to turn him around.

“Haji-”

Iwaizumi forces your hold away from him and before he can even notice who it is he yells. The volume of his voice has surely caught the attention of all the boys.

“What the hell do you want? Can’t you see I’m—”

His eyes turn wide in shock as he realizes it’s you. It’s merely a couple of seconds but he doesn’t fail to notice the way you flinch from his action. The short exchange brings you at a shock, seeing as he’s never lashed out on you before. Iwaizumi opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. You give him a bow and apologize.

“I- I noticed you left your wallet on your desk so I came to give it back to you. I didn’t mean to bother you Iwaizumi, I’m so sorry.”

He grimaces at your use of his first name. The rest of the gym is silent as the boys watch the tension between the couple.

“Y/n, babe, I’m sorry I didn’t—”

You’re quick to cut him off on his apology by shoving the wallet into his hands and making a hurried exit out of the gym. You can hear him calling after you, a pair of footsteps mimicking yours but you don’t bother to look back.

There’s a downpour coming from your eyes and you can taste the salt as it hits the base of your mouth. Maybe it was the agitation from the summer’s heat or your exhaustion from studying but one things for sure and it’s that Iwaizumi’s hostility had struck a nerve on you.

You’re nearly a block away from your bus stop when a strong pair of arms suddenly engulf you from behind.

“Y/n. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. Please talk to me.”

You can feel Iwaizumi’s chin coming to rest on your shoulder as he mutters his apologies.

When he hears no response from you, he turns you around and it’s the moment that he can finally see the tears flowing from your eyes. The sight of you breaks him even more.

He grazes your cheeks, catching each droplet of tear that had succeeded its escape. The sight of guilt in his face makes you sob even more. You know he didn’t mean it, he would never intend to hurt you. But you were tired, hot, and embarrassed from being yelled at in front of the whole team.

Iwaizumi leans his forhead against yours and closes his eyes. “I’m sorry Y/n, please let me make it up to you.”

You give him a slight nod, and that alone reassures him that it’ll be okay. With one final nudge of his palms he sends a kiss to your forehead before the two of you prepare to head to your respective homes.

[shreddedparchment]

A Playful Family

OTP Challenge 10/02/2020

Pairing: Thor x Reader          Word Count: 2,003

Warnings: Adult themes, language, LOTS of more fluff, sexy talk

A/N: This is for @thefanficfaerie​ ‘s OTP Challenge. I’m really enjoying these! Writing these out and just getting them out right away without worrying too much about plot. Just character stories with a family I already love. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“NO!” Thor shouts, nearly pushing your heart to stopping as he jumps towards you from the stairs.

You jump and gasp, pressing your hand against your chest as you try to catch your breath.

“Thor, what the fu-?”

“Ah-ah!” Thor chastises you, frowning. “Little ears abound, my sweetest, beautiful, loving, and most of all forgiving wife.”

He closes the distance between you, putting his hands on your hips and pulling you against his chest.

“What did you do?” You ask him, suspicious but he chuckles and kisses you, bring both hands up to hold your head still as he does.

His kiss is sweet and warm, a fluttering of his lips prompts yours open and he tastes you, guiding your head to the right as his own goes left and he wraps his arms around you to support your weight as he dips you to the side and very nearly sweeps you off your feet.

Your eyebrows shoot up into your hairline as your arms go limp and you drop your sewing bag. Without its weight, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck loosely as Thor kisses all of your senses away.

He draws his tongue out slowly, letting it trace the center part of your upper lip as he stands you upright again. When you’re straight he gives you one final peck.

You’re not unaware of the fact that you’re standing there with your arms around him, lips still puckered, and your eyes shut as your now foggy mind begins to clear.

Holy fuck, this man can kiss.

“Now I know you did something.” You mumble.

Thor laughs but reaches down to take your bag and hurries around to hang it in its spot by the door. Your little bungalow, gifted by Tony when Thor had left you pregnant—though in his defense he didn’t know you were pregnant when he left you—hasn’t changed much. There are new additions to your walls and tables. New pictures with Thor and Rosie and Ben looking bigger and happier with his sister and his daddy at his side.

Your little kitchen with it’s round table is more scuffed than before with Thor here to add his own rough touch to it every now and then. Ben’s booster seat is gone as he’s grown enough to sit without one, but Rosie’s highchair sits among the other three, pink and yellow and green. And all throughout an array of pumpkins, both plaster and plastic, Rosie’s color changing ones on the island counter by the jar of Splenda packets.

Ben’s spoopy mirrors are hung upstairs along the hallway, wrapped in pulled cotton spiderwebs.

“I have done nothing. That is to say, nothing worth you getting angry at me over.” Thor corrects himself when you look skeptical. “May I ask a favor?”

With your arms hanging at your side, your coat still on, Thor slides behind you and helps you take it off. “Depends on the favor.”

Thor nods, moving to stand before you as he folds your jacket neatly and works out the creases you’ve made throughout the day. “What if I told you it was more a favor for Ben, than for me? Would that make you more amenable?”

You glare at him, reaching down with his hands nice and busy, and slide it far back enough that you can reach his butt and give it a pinch.

He jumps, “Hey!”

“You using our son to get me to agree to play your sick games?” You accuse.

Thor smiles slowly, softly, and the look in his eyes drives all teasing from you and makes your stomach flip. How can he look at you like that? How can he mean it? After everything you two have been through to get to this happy place—this happy home—you still can’t believe that Thor picked you.

“Only if it works.” He admits.

“Fine.” You sigh.

Thor smiles more widely then moves around you to hang your coat.

His heat suddenly wraps around you from behind, his hands tracing all the way down to your wrists then the backs of your hands which he cups gently, taking hold of them as he presses himself against you.

You can feel his pelvis pressed against your bottom, the subtle rubbing he’s teasing you with probably to punish you for the pinch to his butt.

When he speaks, the heat of his breath wafts along your ear and neck, chills erupting along your skin as your heart begins to pound and your panties become suddenly soaked.

“Close your eyes.” He whispers, voice so deep you can feel it in your hoo-haw.

“Thor-” You plead, hating him every bit for torturing you.

He leans a little further forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Please?”

You sigh but do as he wishes, shutting your eyes tight.

He takes hold of your head again, tilting it back and sideways until your lips meet his and he gives you another world melting kiss that leaves you breathless and hungry for more.

“I’ll be right back.” He tells you, then abandons you and what sounds like sprinting up the stairs.

“You’re gonna break the house!” You call to him, but he doesn’t reply.

A few minutes pass and your patience grows thin. You open your eyes and look up at the second floor landing but find it empty.

“Thor? How much longer?!”

“Do you have your eyes shut?!” Thor booms down the stairs.

You sigh, shaking your head as you turn slowly and press your hands over your eyes. With a smile you wait, your mind racing with all the possible surprises Thor and Ben might have cooked up in your absence.

“Okay! They’re shut.”

You try not to turn instantly when you hear Thor’s footsteps coming down the stairs accompanied by the sound of much smaller feet at his side.

You can hear Ben’s quiet giggle, his voice a little hiss. “Mommy will wuv it, wight daddy?”

“She’ll love it.” Thor whispers back and your heart could explode with the love you have for your boys.

They stop walking and a moment passes before Thor clears his throat. “Okay, you can look now.”

You turn, much too eager to see what they’ve been doing to take it slow and you very nearly fall to your knees at the sight of them.

All three of them, Thor, Ben at his side, and Rosie kicking and slapping her hands against Thor’s chest in excitement are dressed in footie pajamas.

Thor’s are black, the outline of bones along every inch of it making him look like a walking skeleton. Ben’s a little scarecrow with brown shoes, green pants with sewn in patches, a checkered red and yellow shirt with a patched up brown vest. Just above where the shoes end, where his pants end, and where his shirt meets his neck and wrists are tufts of soft stringy sun colored threads and fabric to make it look as if he is indeed fill with hay.

In Thor’s arms, Rosie’s own onesie is black on the top with what looks like the outline of what should be a corset that runs into the skirt of her pajamas stitched into the onesie, and then her legs are purple and green, made to look like a witch’s socks.

“Oh my goodness!” You gasp, genuinely pleased by the sight, downright tickled by how adorable your babies look but you play up the reaction for the benefit of your little ones.

Ben giggles, jumping once but remembers the rule about jumping in the house and stops immediately.

“You wike it, mommy?” Ben asks, clinging to Thor’s free hand tightly.

“I love it, sweet pea. Oh you all look so amazing! Come here, come give me a hug!” You drop to your knees and open your arms for him and he flies right for you, clinging tight when he’s in your arms.

“Surprise!” Thor exclaims, grabbing Rosie’s hand and shaking her little fist in celebration, then speaks for her. “Surprise, momma!”

“My Rosie, look at her, she looks so dang cute, Thor! Where did you find these?” You let Ben pull away from you as he runs into the living room, excited and eager to expend the extra energy that this little show has given him.

“At the shop, when we went to buy the decorations. I have yours upstairs. Yours is all white, with a shocked ghost face on it. Kinda looks like you did when I startled you.” He chuckles, teasing you heartlessly.

“Jerk.” You laugh, getting up and reaching for Rosie. She throws herself at you and you smother her cheek with kisses as Thor marches into the living room after Ben.

“Alright, son, we’ve shown your mother the pajamas. It’s time for bed.”

Ben gives a small defiant whine but then struts to the stairs and with lead in his feet and a pout on his lips, he walks up the stairs with Thor trailing behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you really trying it on?” Thor calls from the room, waiting for you to make your appearance in your Halloween themed PJs.

“Of course. I need you to see me in it.” You tell him, wicked and knowing as to what you’re about to do.

He deserves it. He really deserves it after what he pulled downstairs.

“You’re not looking right?” You check, waiting with your hand on the door to your bathroom.

You’d left him sitting on his side of the bed, facing the large glass sliding doors that lead to the tiny balcony attached to your room. He’d already drawn the curtains thankfully.

“No. I’m not looking. I won’t cheat.” He promises and you believe him.

“Okay, here I come!” You announce then pull the door open and step out into your room.

He’s really still sitting facing the doors.

“What do you think?” You ask him and watch him lift his left leg onto the bed to traverse and turn towards you as best he can.

He might have been expecting the ghost pajamas but what you give him instead is soft gray baby doll lingerie set, with lace that looks like twisting dead tree branches along the top of your bust. The V neck ends between your breasts where the clasp holds the skimpy nightie shut. The layers of thin sheer fabric flow out at uneven lengths but hide just enough of the matching gray panties to tempt and give tantalizing sneaky peeks.

Thor’s jaw drops. He freezes. His eyes devour you from head to toe, but he doesn’t speak as you give him one quick spin that gives him a generous amount of you to ogle, the stop and pretend to only just remember the finishing touch.

“Oh! I almost forgot.” You move around the bed towards your small vanity by the sliding doors and reach for the headband with small black horns.

You slide them onto your head and turn back to Thor, smiling when you see that his gaze has followed you from one side of the room to the other.

“Well? What do you think?” You give him another spin then sigh. “Maybe I should just go put on the ghost?”

You pretend to think about it.

“Yeah, I think the ghost would be better. Right?” You nod and make to move back around the bed to the bathroom but Thor’s arm shoots out at you like a cobra and with an easy pull he’s got you falling onto the bed on your back, bouncing as you laugh.

“Woah,” You laugh again. “Okay, maybe I’ll keep this one on then.”

“No.” Thor shakes his head, reaching down between your knees to trace his hot calloused fingers along the soft flesh of your inner thighs. “No, I think you should take it off.”

His hands makes you breathless and as his fingers find the elastic edge of your underwear, you gasp, and he swallows hard.

“Here, let me help you.”

[alma37]

I checked on AO3 and, a year ago today [02/02/20, for those of you who are a few hours behind France], I started posting for a deliciously wicked fandom, Dracula 2020.

So, to mark the occasion, I decided to post here (on AO3 later today), a little one-shot I thought about a few days ago. I wanted to put it in one of my wip, but it didn’t quite fit. I still liked the idea, though, and I needed to write it.

This is also kind of a gift for @hopipollahorror and @lady-of-the-wolves, my steadiest supporters of late. Thank you, girls, I am not sure I would have started writing again without your support.

For @thebeautyofdisorder, I know you had a rough year and I wish you a great 2021. We have so many tastes in common, It seems I continuously reblog from you. I am well aware it won’t make your troubles disappear, but I hope this little piece will make you forget them for 5 minutes (and that it won’t be perceived as further punishment or what’s the phrase? Cruel and unusual punishment!😉) .

For my other mutuals, I know we don’t talk much, if at all, but I am glad you came to see and stayed.

And, of course, for all my followers, occasional readers and everyone else who took the time to come and check my little nothing of a blog, leave comments, reblogs and likes. Thank you guys.

And now, i leave you with a small piece I had great fun to write. As usual.

I apologise for the long-ish introduction.

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

This is a Dragatha, sometimes in the future (theirs, not ours; perhaps it is our present, in fact, who knows?). Dracula turned Agatha into a vampire. A long time before this fic.

Some sort of enemies with benefits.

And it actually answers to this prompt. I think.

Title : A [h]arrowing evening

Fandom : Dracula TV 2020

Relationship : Agatha x Dracula

Rate : I’d say T or light M

Words : I don’t know, I didn’t count, go check on AO3 when it’s posted!

- Come on, Agatha. Just admit it : you like me!

The former nun turned vampire, Dracula's most fervent opponent, was backed up against the wall, a small wooden arrow in her hand. Why did she decide to come and see him in his own apartment, she’ll never know. Her nemesis was crowding her, a triumphant smile on his face. She defended herself.

- Stop being so arrogant, Count. I don't like you.

- Oh but I think you do. Very much so.

His growing smirk, his roving hands and, mostly his acumen were too much for her. Suddenly blinded by years of pent up rage and frustration, she drove the arrow into his chest with ferocious intent. The small stake slid under his ribs upwards towards his heart.

For a moment, they stayed still face to face, Dracula's smile slowly fading, morphing into an expression of utter stupefaction, as his eyes fell on the weapon thrust into his thorax. Annoyed, Agatha pushed him backwards. To her absolute consternation, he stumbled with a groan, then bent over, his hand reaching blindly for the small piece of wood. His face was now wearing an expression of agony before his legs started to give out under him. With horror, Agatha watched him slowly falling to his knees before his upper body followed suit and he went down like a dead weight. By chance or instinct, he fell to his side, only just avoiding the stake from driving through his heart. Once on the floor, he started writhing in pain, barely able to hold his screams. Finally, Agatha understood : the arrow must have stopped short of piercing the heart, but was probably touching it if his convulsions were any indication.

After a moment of indecision, Agatha grabbed his shoulders to hold him flat on his back then straddled him.

- Stop squirming. You'll only succeed in piercing your heart yourself.

- As if you didn't intend to do it!" Her victim hissed through his pain.

Agatha opened her mouth to retort, then closed it, before she finally replied, surprised with herself :

- I... don't know.

His face was deformed by the unusual pain he was in. She supposed he probably hadn't felt this bad in centuries. Serves him right, but... His strained voice made her jumped out of her thoughts.

- Whatever you intend to do, Agatha, please do it now. It is unbearable.

At his begging tone, the younger vampire froze for a long time, undecided : finish him off, like she promised herself a long time ago, as it was a chance she certainly wouldn't have again, or remove the arrow and stop the bleeding, against all her principles?

Her nemesis was in a state of anguish she had never seen him before. He was shaking so hard, trying to control his body.

But he wasn't begging anymore, just waiting for her decision. She could see in his eyes the torture he was enduring. He still didn't utter another sound.

And she realised that, as much as she thought she hated him, she couldn't bring herself to just end his life, as lifeless as it was.

He was not only a unique creature, he was also the only one who understood her and she realised with a shock that she came to care about him in a way that prevented her from driving the small arrow all the way through his heart. She actually liked their fighting : it was invigorating and, yes, fun. They hadn't really tried to kill each other for years now. His half-hearted attempts to get rid of her, lately, was his way of flirting, she supposed. And apparently, she thought in dismay, became hers too.

But the biggest blow came when she finally realised she actually wanted to tame him somehow or maybe convince him to redeem himself in some ways, which was barely thinkable, much less doable. She just wanted him. Full stop. And annihilating him forever didn't suit her purpose anymore.

- Whenever you want, darling." The count groaned through gritted teeth, his brow drained in sweat.

At last, Agatha came to a decision and, instead of doing what her conscience was telling her, she chose to follow her heart : she wrapped her hand around the piece of arrow that stuck out from his chest and pulled it out without warning.

She was thrown out from his lap by his violent recoil as he screamed out of his lungs in pain. Agatha, not deterred, scrabbled back to him and pinched the wound to stop the bleeding. That last part was easy, as Dracula had promptly passed out.

When she understood he wasn't going to wake up any time soon, she put him to bed and took a book, while keeping watch over him, berating herself all night long for her weakness.

At dawn, the older vampire slowly emerged from unconsciousness. When he opened his eyes, he looked around as if searching for something - or someone. When he found her watching over her book, he started asking in a rough voice : "What..." He cleared his throat several times before trying again :

- What happened?

Agatha lifted an eyebrow.

- Don't you remember?

Dracula began shaking his head :

- I don't... I seem to remember flirting with you and... Ah!" His face cleared. "Yes! You tried to kill me.

Agatha shrugged.

- And I would have succeeded this time.

Dracula straightened up with a groan. Agatha, taking pity on him, piled up a few pillows behind his back and helped him get a more comfortable position on the bed. When she tried to sit back on her armchair, the Count held on to her hand, so she was either obliged to sit on the bed or tried to shake his grip. She chose the easy path and sat next to him.

- So why didn't you finish me off?You had me at your mercy, you could have cleared this world of my evil presence.

Agatha didn't look at him but rather at their joined hands.

- I.. I don't know.

- You would have missed me!

Agatha snapped back.

- Don't be ridiculous!

Dracula smiled his devilish smile.

- You, Agatha van Helsing, like me!

- I most certainly do not!" Agatha protested, outraged. She tried to remove her hand from his, but he was holding fast.

- Well, I wouldn't blame you, you know. I am probably... Definitely head over heels in love with you after last night's little demonstration.

Agatha finally pulled her hand out of his, and stood up, shaking her head.

- You are a...

- monster?

-... beast! And obviously better. So I am leaving. Goodbye, Count Dracula.

Dracula reached for her once more :

- No, wait!

Agatha sighed, annoyed :

- What?

- You could at least kiss it better.

The former nun was about to will him to hell but something in his apparent casualness made her change her mind. She came back to sit on the bed and, after barely an hesitation, she straddled him. She felt him tensed momentarily, probably a reminder of the previous night. But he relaxed when she gently unbuttoned his shirt. She glanced at him and smiled when she saw his look of intense concentration turned towards her. She bent over and she licked the disappearing scar under his ribs. She felt his entire body shudder with pleasure, which made her smile grow larger. She had cleaned him the previous night, so there was no blood to tempt her. His all body was temptation enough. She nibbled at the scar then soothed it with her lips and tongue. Her nemesis had grown rigid from repressed desire. She finally moved from the scar to make her way upwards with slow, languorous and arousing kisses.

The first time he tried to touch her, she took his hands and flattened them back on the bed. The second time, she just held onto them.

The third time, she felt his eagerness wouldn't be denied, so she deftly evaded his grasp before he could close in on her. She moved swiftly out of the bed and put some distance between them, so that he could not reach her fast enough.

- And that's about all the kisses you'll ever have from me. Get a rest, Count Dracula. I will come and check on you tonight.

Without waiting for an answer, she left him in a state of obvious arousal, but laughing at her cunning.

- I can't wait." He called after her. He couldn't resist having the last word. Agatha shook her head in disbelief, but she was smiling.

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

Soooo, what did you think? (If it’s bad, please don’t tell me! 😉)

Anyway, I just really really wanted her to stab him at close range and truly physically HURT him (like Zoe, in TDC, but more purposely, if you know what I mean).

For the arrow, I imagine she has a small-ish one, like those used for a crossbow, except it is completely made of wood, even the tip. Something like that...

But, well, you know me : I always prefer a happy (-ish) ending. Reality’s sad enough. We don’t need it into fiction. In any case, I hope you enjoyed it.

If you really liked it, give me a shout and I’ll post the little follow-up I just had an idea of. Which is more on the comedy side (as in funny).

[citrus-cactus]

The world doesn't have enough of Best Boys Wallace and Daisuke interacting, so may I request just that? Maybe Wallace visiting Japan for a change? <3 thank you for doing this, I hope this is something you'll enjoy drawing!

K. K!!!! (can I call you K?) THIS IS ONE OF THE BEST PROMPTS I’VE EVER RECEIVED I’M SCREAMING I HAVE SO MANY FEELINGS THANK YOU!!!! You bet I enjoyed it T^T

TFW you’re so concerned with keeping your obnoxiously charming American friend from flirting with all the girls in your life you don’t realize he might actually be flirting with you????

Some notes because I put way too much thought into this AAAA:

[1] Background picture is from my own trip to Japan a few years ago, which puts them in Kyoto (I should really watch that 02 episode again!)

[2] Wallace got matcha-flavored ice cream and somehow convinced Daisuke to pay for it

[3] I don’t actually recall seeing any souvenir t-shirts during my trip, but I borrowed the design of this one from Vol. 1 of the “Laid-Back Camp” manga. The original said “Mt. Fuji sukiiiiii” which seems to be a pun on “like” and “skiing.” I added a “dai” on there because the temptation to hint at the similarity between “daisuki” and “Daisuke” was too great to resist, even if it almost certainly makes less sense to put on a shirt orz

[4] I’m not saying I would actually WRITE a fic based on this for a multitude of reasons, but I remain SORELY TEMPTED TO where else would they go and what else would they do on a sightseeing trip together? XDDDDDD

BONUS! Door Into Summer audio drama closure for Gumimon:

Want me to draw your Best Digi-Boys, whoever they might be? From now (3/25/21) into the foreseeable future I’m taking sketch requests--drop a suggestion in my inbox!

[platypanthewriter]

April Showers

Harringrove April Prompt 02:  April Showers!  Max drags Steve back to the Byers' after the fight, to make sure Billy didn't die on the Byers' floor, and they get some things talked out.  LAST PROMPT, GUYS! I'M DONE! 30 days! XD

It was something Susan had always said—April showers bring May flowers.  She said it when they visited Max’s grandma, and Max’s bigger, stronger cousins dogpiled her and ripped her hair out in chunks.  They apologized—insincerely, and Max accepted just as insincerely, already planning her revenge—and Max’s mom hugged her tightly, shaking with relief, and said “See?  You have to be patient, Max.  Sometimes things can be tough, but—”

“Then you shower vengeance upon them,” Max gritted out, narrowing her eyes at the beefiest cousin, because if she couldn’t be the strongest, she could definitely be the craziest.

“Maxine,” Susan groaned.

 Susan said it when her own mother looked at the dinner Susan had made, and said “...well, I suppose you did your best, dear.”

“The hell does that mean,” Max asked, slamming her hand on the table, and she got sent to her room.  

“It’s fine,” Susan said later, wringing her hands.  “The garlic bread was a little burned, and I’m not sure those tomatoes were ripe—”

“She can eat dog food next time you make the whole goddamn dinner,” Max told her, crossing her arms, and Susan smothered a laugh.

“Come on,” she said softly.  “Sometimes being in a family means you have to weather a few storms.  Don’t be mean to your grandma.  She loves you.”

“Does she?” Max asked flatly, and Susan reminded her of the awful Precious Moments figurines she’d gotten for Christmas.  “If those are my May flowers, they were not worth the crap,” Max told her, and Susan flinched.

 Susan said it again, shakily, when Neil brought her actual flowers, the day after he hit Billy into her newly-planted flower beds.  Billy had stormed in, leaving muddy footprints all down the hall, and at dinner his shoulder and jaw were scraped up from the metal thing Susan had put in to keep the grass from growing into her bulbs.

“Maybe you should be nice to him tomorrow,” Max heard her mother whispering to Neil, later.  “Take him somewhere.”

“Maybe to the dog pound,” Neil said, laughing, and Susan winced.  

“That ‘April showers’ thing is talking about actual rain, Mom,” Max said later, and “What the hell kind of flowers could even be worth this,” and “I don’t think Neil’s showers are the kind flowers survive, Mom, he’s more like the kind that causes landslides, and floods the garage.”

Susan hunched her shoulders a little, and lowered her eyes, the way she always did when somebody was mad, so Max stalked back to her room.  Billy was sprawled on her floor, reading her Beverly Cleary books.

Billy hid in Max’s room a lot that summer, because Neil didn’t think to look for him there.  He’d knock and immediately slide through her door, or run around and stand under her window with a bribe—some cookies, or a cold bottle of soda, or the next issue of The Amazing Spider-Man.  

He’d been fun, then, twitchy and awkward, but he’d burst into giggles when she commented on her mom and his dad.  They snuck out and went skateboarding, even, and ate cheetos as they read Billy’s comics, kicking their legs in the air—until Neil threw the door open one day, and drug Billy out by the upper arm.

Max didn’t know what he’d said to her mom, but Billy wasn’t allowed in her room anymore.  She couldn’t even shut the door before Neil or her mom would throw it open, and she was half tempted to just be naked the next time, and see how they liked that.  

Billy looked away from her, after that summer.  When she finally grabbed him--two months in to the silent treatment--he snarled, watching behind her, and twisted away.  She tried to follow him into his room, but he called her a bitch, and slammed the door right in her face, almost on her hand.

 The night after she drugged Billy with the syringe for Will, she grabbed Steve Harrington, and hauled him back to the Byers’.  

“You want a ride back to your car, right,” she’d hissed at him, and Steve blinked blearily at her, staggering a little.

“...I guess,” he mumbled, as she shoved him in the passenger seat.  

 Billy was lying a little more curled up than he had been, and she ran around to get a look at him, then sat down almost against her will once she could see him glowering hazily at her feet.  “Billy,” she whispered, sighing, and leaning back on one arm to rub her face.  She was so tired her arms shook, the adrenaline finally starting to clear her system from fighting the monsters of Hawkins.  

Steve lingered by the door, frowning down at them, and Max squinted at him, half wondering whether she should try and get her absolutely loaded brother in the car by herself, or whether she should try and bribe Steve into helping, somehow.  Or blackmail him.

There were some things Mike had seen that might come in handy, she thought, considering.  “I know about the time you got dumped by two girls on the same night,” she said, narrowing her eyes.

“...what,” said Steve, who was pressing gently at his skull, where Billy’s knuckles had hit.  

“I’ll tell the next person you date,” Max said, setting her jaw, and trying to look like she could kill him with a shoelace.

“...what’s happening?” Steve asked, frowning at her.  “...what?”

Just then, Max realized she was so tired she’d threatened him without telling him what she wanted, yet.  “You gotta help me get this dumbass in the car,” she said, sighing.  “Or—or I’ll tell everybody I know you, um, you wet the bed.”

“...what,” Steve said again, and Max tried to be patient, since she’d seen how many times he’d been hit in the heat that night.

“...Max,” Billy mumbled.  “Fucking...bitch.”  He kind of half-rolled onto his back again, rolling his face away from her, and she slid a foot out and kicked his hand.

“Shut up, you,” she growled.  “I come running back here to see if you got your face eaten—”

“Whadda you care,” he whispered, laughing.  “You dun give a shit.  You wanted...brother like him,” Billy said, watching Steve, and Steve snorted a laugh.  “How come you’re never on my side,” Billy whispered, and Max kicked his limp hand again, sort of, her legs limp with exhaustion.

“Wow,” Steve sighed.

“Fuck you, the hell are you talking about,” Max hissed.  “You tried to kill him.”

“You knew,” Billy mumbled.  “Fucking...knew I’d get my ass kicked.  An’ you left the house,” he said, sighing, and trying to roll away, but he couldn’t even shift his body that much.  His hands twitched, and he groaned, closing his eyes.

“...I’ll help you get him in the car,” Steve said, and Billy sneered, laughing.

“Oh, ’s so nice, isn’ he?  Fucking...King Harrington.”

“You’re a piece of work, man,” Steve said, grimacing, but he helped her get Billy’s dead weight off Joyce Byers’ floor and down the steps to the cars.  “Want me to drive him home?  You get pulled over driving with him in the car…”

Max and Billy flinched at that.  “Fuck,” Billy panted, his face getting red and veiny as his head and arms dangled over Harrington’s back.  

“Oh, oh shit,” Max said, realizing she could hardly drive Billy home to a waiting Neil, when he was acting like he’d been doing drugs.  “We can’t take him home.  We can’t.  His dad’ll end him.”

“Like you give a shit,” Billy muttered.

“Jesus.  Let’s, um,” Steve thought, walking over to his car.  “You’re not bringing this jackass to my house, so don’t even—”

For a brief second, Max was so strongly homesick for the skatepark by their house in California she had to shut her eyes, imagining taking Billy somewhere she knew to sober up, somewhere with people who had nothing going on but a few skateboard tricks.  She groaned into her hands.

“Whoa, whoa,” Steve said, shifting Billy, who grunted.  “Look, wait, there’s—we’ll take him to the playground, okay.  When he’s sobered up some, he can drive you home.”

“What,” Max said, blinking as she imagined Billy going down slides.

“Just somewhere to sit that’s not Mrs. Byers’ floor,” Steve said, grimacing.

“...why’re you doing this,” Billy asked, possibly to both of them, and Steve groaned.

“No fucking clue.”

“Why’re you such a fucking asshole dipshit?” Max asked, rhetorically.

“Why d’you hate me so much,” Billy asked, as Steve struggled to hold him up and get the car door open, muttering, “Oh, I can think of a few reasons.”

“I don’t hate you!” Max shouted.  “I don’t!  Why the hell did you—why’d you try to beat up my friends—what the hell is wrong with you!”  

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Billy growled back, but he sounded tired.  “You’ve fucking...had it in for me for years.  Little...bitch.  Fuck...fuckface.”

“Shut up, dickhead,” Steve sighed, levering Billy into the passenger seat of his car.  He slammed the door, and patted Max’s shoulder.  “Follow me, I’ll take you to the playground.”

She nodded, glaring at Billy through the window, and wondering what the hell.

 By the time she pulled up to the playground, craning to see in the low seat of the Camaro, Steve was hauling Billy back out of the car.  “Let’s get you on the swing,” he was saying.  “Get your feet moving a little, maybe.”

“Oh look, she’s here,” Billy said, baring his teeth.  “Don’t you wanna take me home, Maxine?  Tell my dad about something I actually did, for once.”

“The hell are you even talking about?” Steve sighed, rolling his eyes at Max, but Billy was glaring at her, his eyes still red and swollen from the mess he was, fighting Steve.  

“You’ll find out,” Billy laughed.  “Once she’s pissed and she tells everybody you touched her.  Fuck you, Maxine Mayfield,” he hissed at her, his jaw working, and Steve stopped, staring from Billy’s drooping head to Max’s face.

“Wait, what,” he breathed, leaning warily away from Billy, as Max’s mouth dropped open in fury.

“I never said that shit, what the hell,” she growled.  “I don’t lie.  I’m not a liar.”

“I never did,” Billy yelled back at her, staggering as Steve held on to him.  “I never—I never would’ve—I thought we were friends, you little shithead, you fucking—”

“I never said you did!” she yelled back, automatically, then remembered Neil dragging Billy out of her room.  Her mom had stopped being nice to Billy, after that, she realized—she’d noticed, but she hadn’t thought about when.  “...Billy, I never said that,” she whispered, watching his set face.  “I didn’t, I—I never would have said that.”

“You told him,” Billy shot back, growling and waving an arm at her, so Steve nearly dropped him.  Steve muttered profanity to himself as he hauled Billy along into the playground, and a few more feet, to the swings.  “You coulda said one goddamn thing to me, I thought you were okay with me coming around, I—you fucking told him I was scary, you—you know how he was kicking my ass—he fucking...” Billy bit his lips together, breathing unsteadily.  “Why the fuck would you tell him something like that—”

“I never did!” she shouted over him.  “I never...I missed you too, you fucking asshole, I thought...I don’t know what I thought,” she trailed off with a sigh, realizing Billy was glaring at her even harder.  

“...you didn’t tell my dad...to make me fuck off?” Billy said slowly.  

“I missed you,” Max told him, sitting on the next swing, while Steve stood behind Billy, balancing him so he didn’t faceplant in the gravel.  “Dunno why, but I did.”

“...he said I scared you,” Billy breathed.  “You didn’t want to be in the same house with me—”

“I never fucking said that,” Max growled, spinning on the swing to kick his leg.  “You moron, why would you…” she let her sentence trail off as she looked at him, and he was wiping his face, and sniffling.  “...the hell would you think I’d lie to get you to stay away?” she asked, her own face reddening as Billy pressed his fist over his mouth to muffle his wet sniffles.  Max’s own eyes stung and blurred.  “Didn’t want you going anywhere, dickhead,” she whispered hoarsely, “—you had the back-issues of X-Men.”

“Holy shit,” Billy laughed like he hadn’t since they were kids, looking at her sidelong.  “Thought you wanted me dead.”

“...’m sorry I had to sneak out,” she muttered.  “I wasn’t trying to get you in trouble.”

“Fuck,” Billy breathed, “—I went nuts at the Byers’.”  

“You went batshit fucking insane,” Max said dryly, and Billy hunched his shoulders, glancing back over his shoulder.

Harrington stepped back, one hand out to catch him.  Billy clenched his hands on the chains for the swing.  “I got it,” he muttered.  “I won’t fall.”

Harrington nodded, and dropped into the swing on the other side of Billy.  “Nice little family therapy session,” he said dryly, and Max winced with Billy, remembering how Steve’s head must be pounding, and how he’d slurred his words, stumbling around because of Billy’s fists.  

“Sorry,” Billy grated out, and Steve snorted a laugh.

Max started explaining why she had to sneak out, stumbling over herself in her urgency, and Steve backed her up, just swaying on the swing tiredly, and kicking at the gravel.

“Fuck,” Billy started saying, as Steve described what had happened at the Byers’ the year before, and Max talked over him about the junkyard, and Billy’s eyes widened.  “Fuck,” he said again, “...shit, you...saved her,” he mumbled, like his brain was stuck.  “Holy shit.”  

It was getting cold, late at night in the playground, but Max didn’t want to leave, so she just watched Steve spin around the seat of his swing, slowly tightening and tightening the twisted chains until he let go in a whirl.  “Fuck.  Sorry,” Billy kept saying, wiping his eyes.

 For the first time, Max kind of...understood, what her mother meant, about the awful weather in April before flowers in May, because it wasn’t like Neil’s fucking raincloud was worthwhile, suddenly, but Billy was smirking at her again like a weight was off his shoulders.  He was kicking at the gravel just like Steve, two little kids, and he grinned whenever he thought she wasn’t looking.  

It was good to watch him bloom.

Here are my other Harringrove April prompts--DONE! 

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

I posted 2,545 times in 2021

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#you ladies have so many awesome stories i want to read so i can fangirl over them but there just isn't enough time in the world

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

70 notes • Posted 2021-02-04 14:00:49 GMT

#4

Friends

OH MY GOSH DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG IT’S BEEN SINCE I WROTE FOR FILI?!!??!  TOO LONG.  I enjoyed every second of his Fee-Fluff.  Although, I actually kept trying to put ‘Kili’ instead of ‘Fili’...  I think I need to write for Fili more or Kili is trying to tell me something  Also, I was SO SO SO tempted to use one of Arwen’s lines in here...  But I didn’t. You’ll know the scene when you come to it though... ;)

Fluff about friend-zoning and Fili working up the nerve to tell a special lass he likes her.

Tags:  @elvish-sky @kumqu4t @ladylouoflothlorien​

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used:  Loka

Word Count:  2,177

Translation(s):  Surprisingly, none

Warning(s):  None.  Just fluff!

~~~~

"It's time to end this, once and for all."  Kili declared suddenly as he sat next to me in the library; head propped up on his palms.  I glanced up sharply from the thick tome I was currently pouring over.

"What?"  I asked, not sure if I had heard him right.  

"I said, it's time to end this once and for all.  I'm sick of watching you pine after Fili."  He repeated, adding some clarification to his words.

I let out a sigh, grabbing the ribbon I was using as a bookmark and placing it in the book to mark my spot.  Something told me I wouldn't be returning to it for awhile.  "What are you even talking about, Kili?  I don't pine after Fili."  I said, and Kili smirked.

"Uh huh.  I've counted you watching him 178 different times in the past three days.  Explain that."  He said, prompting a faint blush to appear on my cheeks.

And I thought I hadn't been that obvious...  Hmm, perhaps it was time to be a bit more--

"That's what I thought."  Kili's confidence-loaded voice broke through my thoughts, and I looked up to see him grinning knowingly at me.  "You fancy him, don't you?"

I gave Kili a confused look, trying to buy myself time.  "Fancy who?"  

Kili threw up his hands in a show of exasperation.  "Fili.  My brother.  The one who's always watching you."  He said in much too loud of a voice, and I motioned at him to be quiet.  I didn't need this to be the new rumor circling Erebor.

Mahal, how embarrassing would that be?

But his words puzzled me; the way that they implied that Fili---no, surely not.  It was too good to be true.

Footsteps sounded behind me, interrupting my musings, and Kili winked at me, grinning mischievously.  "Who fancies who?"  A deep, gentle voice asked behind me as broad hands came down to rest upon my shoulders.  

Speak of the devil...

"I was just talking to Loka here about a lad from the Iron Mountains.  She thought he was quite fetching."  Kili piped up suddenly, and I shot him a glare.  The nerve of him...

Fili's hands tightened on my shoulders, and I fidgeted a bit in discomfort.  "Hey, be careful about squeezing me too hard.  I'm not iron."  I muttered, and Fili's hands disappeared in an instant as he came around to stand beside me.

"Sorry, Loka."  He said, but his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere.  Those beautiful blue eyes of his had a faraway gaze.

Kili kicked my shin underneath the table, and I turned to him with a stifled yelp of pain.  "What the hell was that for?"  I hissed, glaring furiously at the insolent Prince.  

You were staring again.  He mouthed with a cheeky look on his face.  I just gave him a disgusted look and turned my gaze back down to the book I had so reluctantly vacated.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got some things to take care of."  I said, breaking the silence that had fallen over us as soon as Fili approached.  

Before either of them could protest, I gathered up my stuff from the library table and hurried out of Erebor's royal library.  Maybe I could finally finish the tales of Númenor in the comfort of my own room?

~~~~

"Loka!"  A sharp cry of my name had me halting in my tracks as I walked through the halls of Erebor.  Turning around, I was surprised to see Fili jogging towards me; decked out in full royal garb.

"Prince Fili?"  I asked, fidgeting with the bundle of fabric in my arms.  A grimace flashed across Fili's face at my use of his title.

"How many times have I told you that you don't need to call me by that...?"  He groaned, and I gave him an apologetic smile.

"Obviously not enough times; but I kinda have to call you by that since you are the Crown Prince after all."  I said, but Fili just shook his head.

"Forget etiquette for once, Loka."  He said, giving me a pleading look that awoke butterflies in my stomach.  

Nodding, I smiled at him.  "If that's what you command...  But anyways, why did you stop me?"  I asked curiously, and Fili shuffled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his rapidly reddening neck as he turned his gaze to the floor.

"Uh..."  He was suddenly at a loss for words, and I watched this with a incredulous look.  Never before had I seen Fili look so...  nervous.

"Fee?"  I called softly, using Fili's childhood nickname.  

"Would you like to go to the ball with me?"  He suddenly said; words rushing out in a jumbled hurry that left me speechless for a moment as I processed them.

"The ball that's happening in about four days?"  I asked, and Fili nodded quickly.

"Aye, that one.  Would you like to go with me?"  

Disappointment welled in my stomach as I looked at the hopeful expression on his bearded features.  "I would love to--"  I began, and Fili's face broke out in a wide smile.

"Tha-that's great!"  He said excitedly, but I raised a hand to stop him.

"You didn't let me finish.  I would love to go with you, but I'm already going with someone."  I said, and the smile was wiped off Fili's face, only to be replaced with a furrowed look that didn't belong anywhere on his handsome features.  "I'm so sorry, Fili."  I whispered, but Fili was quick to shake his head.

"No, no, I should be sorry for bothering you.  It's no big deal Loka, I just thought...  Who are you going with?"  He asked, quickly switching topics.

An image of a dark-haired Dwarrow--the exact opposite of Fili in so many different ways--popped into my head.  "Maglorian.  One of Dain's ambassadors."  I said quietly, forcing a bright smile onto my face.

Fili nodded, a dark shadow passing over his face at the mention of the name.  "I've heard of him; he's very nice."  He said, giving me a smile that was so obviously fake it hurt.  "Well, save a dance for me maybe?"  

I nodded quickly, trying to find a way to lift this black cloud that had suddenly settled over Fili.  "Of course!  I'll always have a dance for you, Fee."  I said softly, and a smile flickered across his lips.

"See you around, Loka."  He murmured, turning and walking past me down the hallway.  I watched him go, noting the way his shoulders were slumped in a picture of disappointment.  But why?  Surely he hadn't wanted to go that badly with me?  Hadn't his question just been a friend asking a friend so they didn't have to go alone?

Shaking my head, I continued on my way to the Palace seamstress.  My dress needed some alterations to fit the current styles of King Thorin's court, and I hadn't had time before now to deliver it to her.

~~~~

The day of the ball had finally arrived, but something just seemed wrong.  Maglorian was very polite and nice, but not even his gracious manners could bring a genuine smile to my face.

I tried--I really did--to keep my attention on him, but I couldn't help sneaking glances towards the dour Fili.  Mahal, I'd never seen him look so hurt before.

"Miss Loka, would you like something to drink?"  Maglorian's cultured tones had me looking away from where Fili stood beside Kili and Thorin; watching the festivities.  

Forcing a smile, I nodded sweetly.  "That sounds lovely, thank you Maglorian."  I said, and he smiled back, heading away from me towards the refreshments.  

Breathing out a sigh, I returned my gaze towards the trio of royals, only to notice that one was missing.  

Kili.

Glancing around the crowded ballroom, I tried to spot the dark-haired Prince in case he attempted to pull a prank on me or something.  I wouldn't put it past him.

"Fancy a dance, my lady?"  A cheeky voice said from right beside me, and I whirled around to find Kili standing in front of me.  

Rolling my eyes, I accepted his proffered hand.  "I suppose, if only to get away from the ambassador and his manners for a moment."  I said, prompting a laugh from Kili.

"He's that bad, huh?  I thought you said he was handsome."  

"He's handsome in his own way, but he just oozes 'proper etiquette'.  It's enough to make any lass sick."  I grumbled, placing on hand on Kili's shoulder as he settled a hand on my waist.  The music had turned to a slower waltz that was perfect for talking.

Kili chuckled, grinning down at me.  "Perfect."  

His words had me looking up at him in bewilderment as he suddenly spun me away from him and into someone else's arms.  For a moment, I thought it was Maglorian and I went to pull away.

"I thought you said you'd save me a dance?  Did you change your mind?"  A familiar voice asked teasingly, and I realized Fili was the one with an arm around my waist.

Blushing, I looked up at Fili with a sheepish smile on my face.  "I thought you were Maglorian...  You are welcome to as many dances as you wish to claim."  I said, quickly adjusting my grip so that one hand was held in Fili's while the other rested on his broad shoulder.

Fili raised an eyebrow.  "So you don't like that ambassador then?"  He asked quietly, and I shook my head.

"Of course not...  He's just a nice guy that I thought would be fun to go to the ball with."  I said, understanding suddenly dawning on me.  "Wait, you thought that me and him were serious or something?"

Pink began to tinge Fili's cheeks, and he looked away from me.  "Well..."  

"You're jealous of him!  Are you afraid he'd steal your friend away from you?"  I teased, laughing at the thought even as my heart sank.

Friends, always friends.  But I'd have to content myself with that.  He'd never see me as something more.

"No."  Fili's voice was uncharacteristically hard and I scanned his face worriedly.  "I wasn't afraid that he'd steal my friend...."  He trailed off and let out a sigh, raising his head to look around at the other dancers around us.  "I--just come outside with me for a moment.  I'll explain."  He said suddenly, dropping his hand from my waist to lead me towards the doors out to the hallway.

I followed obligingly, wondering what he was going to explain.  What did he even have to explain?

Once we were finally alone out in the deserted hallway, Fili grabbed my hands and looked down at me with a searching expression in his crystal blue eyes.  "I don't know why it's so hard to say...  I've never been so afraid of something before..."  He muttered, and I looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"Fee?"  I prodded, and he took a deep breath, ducking his head for a moment before looking back up at me.  "I was jealous of that Dwarrow, yeah, but not for the reasons you think."  He whispered, and my eyes widened slightly.  

Was he going to say what I thought he was going to say?  

"I thought that he was going to steal away the heart of the lass who stole mine."  He said quietly, looking at me with such a vulnerable expression in his eyes, it brought tears to mine.  "It's alright if you don't feel the same, Loka, I'll get over it eventually."  He muttered as I stared at him in disbelief.

"No!"  I exclaimed, and Fili watched me apprehensively.  "Don't get over me, please.  I love you."  I whispered hoarsely, and Fili scanned my face closely, looking for any hint of a lie.

"Loka..."  He murmured in a low voice, raising trembling hands to gently cup my face,  "I feel like I'm dreaming."  

I smiled at him, closing the space between us until I was held close between his arms.  "Then we're sharing the same dream."  I whispered, tilting my head upwards as he leaned down to slant his lips over mine; his golden locks falling like a curtain over both our faces.

"Oh Mahal, finally!  I thought I'd have to lock you two in a closet somewhere!"  

Fili reluctantly pulled away from me with a sigh, turning his head to look at a grinning Kili leaning against a pillar nearby.  "Do you mind?"  He said with a raised eyebrow, and Kili raised his hands in a show of surrender.

"Sorry...  Just keep in mind that Uncle is going to be looking for you soon, so don't get too cozy together..."  He said, winking suggestively.  

"Kili..."  Fili growled, but a red flush was spreading up his neck.  "Don't make me--"

"I'm going!  I'm going!"  

With that, Kili disappeared back into the festivities, leaving me and Fili alone once more.  

Looking back down at me, Fili gave me a roguish smile.  "Now, where were we...?"

71 notes • Posted 2021-01-15 15:36:56 GMT

#3

Smirk/Smile Saturday

I call this a Study in Sexy

Also, Smirk/Smile Saturday anyone? ;) There's nothing more sexy heartwarming than a smiling Thorin/Richard, am I right? I mean, if I see him smile, I smile. It's just contagious!

Also, help me decide, ladies... Is he just, normal, in the below picture or is he pulling the same smirk as the above picture?

@lathalea @gwen-ever @linasofia @thewarriorandtheking @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo

113 notes • Posted 2021-08-28 21:40:51 GMT

#2

126 notes • Posted 2021-01-08 19:00:43 GMT

#1

328 notes • Posted 2021-01-10 19:00:50 GMT

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