#as someone who needs a wheel to spin to tell me what to draw most days the fact i knew without a doubt i had to draw this today?

[moeblob]

Does anyone remember when I would draw Glenn being a lil shit to his dad? Anyone?

[motownfiction]

free slurpees

Sam’s pretty sure the only reason Sadie agrees to pick him up from work is that she knows she’ll get a free Slurpee out of it.

It’s part of Sam’s sweet deal at 7-Eleven: They pay him minimum wage, and at the end of his shift, he can take home one small Slurpee (a rule he has broken more times than he can count, often pouring six or seven for himself and his friends). Surely, they know, but for some reason, they don’t fire him. He’s pretty sure it’s because he chooses the best music. 7-Eleven is “Don’t Pull Your Love” and “Spinning Wheel.” There’s a reason they get more customers than a lot of the other stores in the area, and Sam likes to think it’s his Blood, Sweat, and Tears.

Today, on the hottest day of the year, his beloved Escort is in the shop. But Sadie’s got a new car, and she’s more than happy to help her twin brother in his time of need – given a free Slurpee, of course. When he meets her in the parking lot, he hands her the little cup before he can even say hello.

“Oh, yay!” Sadie says and spoons some of the frozen Coke into her mouth. “I love you!”

“Are you talking to me?” Sam asks as he climbs into the passenger seat. “Or are you talking to the Slurpee?”

“Which one will make you feel better?”

Sam rolls his eyes, and Sadie giggles madly as she scoops up more of the Slurpee.

“You know,” she says, mouth full of slush, “I don’t just pick you up for the perk of frozen Cokes on the hottest day of the summer.”

“No?” Sam asks, already messing with the radio.

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

Sam, predictably, lands on his favorite crackly AM station.

It’s much too groovy a summer’s day / to waste runnin’ round in the city …

“You’re my brother, and I love you,” Sadie says. “And you’re the best at finding the perfect soundtrack.”

“Music matters,” Sam says, a little distant, almost like it should be a given. “Never understood people who just let anything be on the radio. Remember when Linda DeLuca drove us to and from school that week Mom and Dad were out of town? When we were like thirteen? Remember how she only listened to 100.3?”

Sadie throws her head back and laughs.

“‘Reunited and it feels so good,’” she sings, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“I try not to be a snob; you know that,” he says. “But if I don’t draw the line at Peaches, I will most definitely draw it at Herb.”

“Do you say the H in Herb?”

“Here’s the thing. I don’t care. Let me repeat that. I don’t care. That should tell you something.”

Sadie laughs and takes a long sip from her little Slurpee as she rolls up to a stoplight. She looks over at Sam and smiles.

“What?” he asks.

“Let’s not go home,” she says.

“What?”

“You heard me. Let’s not go home.”

“But it’s the hottest day of the year. What if we melt?”

“Then people will be able to say we died like the Wicked Witch of the West. Which, I think, is infinitely better than dying like the Wicked Witch of the East.”

Sam shudders.

“I say we go,” he says, “before someone drops a house on us.”

Sadie grins as the light turns green.

“Sure thing,” she says. “Where should we go?”

“Oh, up to you,” Sam says. “As long as it’s good. We’re not getting any younger, Sadie Lou. Who knows how many more days like this we have to just ourselves?”

Sadie grins again – this time, with all her teeth – and heads toward the interstate. She’s not sure where they’re going (not yet), but as is often true, she agrees with Sam. As long as it’s good.

[sankyeom]

i spy with my little eye | l.jy

pairings: lee juyeon x reader (she/her/hers pronouns) genre: spy au, rivals to lovers warnings: some descriptions of fighting, injuries, explosives, and guns summary: in which the company you work for is the main rival of juyeon’s company, and you’re known for always being one step ahead of him; even when it comes to realising his feelings for you (based on this timestamp that i wrote before the stealer came out) word count: 8.3k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

“I hope you understand how important it is that we get our hands on that file,” your boss, Mrs Kwon, explained to you after briefing you on your next mission. Your agency was the leading organisation in espionage, amassing over 30 countries. “The encryption on it is extremely advanced, so we’ll need it back undamaged so our cyber division can recover the files,” she finished, closing her tablet and glancing at you. “My understanding is that CKR have their best agents on the job as we speak.”

You nodded, “I’m familiar with them,” you told your boss, having come across the agents from CKR on several occasions, especially Juyeon. “They won’t be a problem.”

Your boss gave you a curt nod in agreement, handing her tablet off to her assistant. “You must know how important this is, Y/n. I cannot stress it enough. I chose you for this mission because you have proven yourself to be loyal and competent after the three years you’ve been here. I trust you to complete your mission well; this cannot fall into the wrong hands.”

“I understand,” you assured your boss. “I won’t give anybody the chance.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Mrs Kwon nodded. “Now, the gala is starting in six hours. I suggest you stop by costume and weaponry before you go. We wouldn’t you to stand out or be unprepared.”

You paused for a moment, thinking it over. “Maybe that’s exactly what we want…” you trailed off as you exited your boss’s office and made your way to the costume department.

You had purposefully made contact with the head of governmental cyber security multiple weeks prior to the gala. Knowing that he had the key to hacking into governmental firewalls and protections meant that you couldn’t let it slip through your fingers that night.

Mr Kim had recognised you immediately, since your stunning red outfit couldn’t be missed. You had clearly made the right decision to wear it, because Mr Kim couldn’t keep his eyes off of you the whole evening.  

“Do you have eyes on the target?” Sangyeon’s voice rang through Juyeon’s earpiece. Juyeon had been undercover for the duration of the gala that evening, staying low-key in a formal but simple suit in order to blend in with the crowd. Sangyeon was surveilling from a getaway car parked nearby for a quick exit. Not only was Sangyeon the team leader, he was also their best and most efficient driver.

As subtly as possible, Juyeon placed a hand on his earpiece to reply to his team leader. “Affirmative. Exiting main ballroom through the North door,” Juyeon informed as he followed the short man who was speedily walking through the crowd; the man looked flustered and slightly tipsy, despite being the head of cyber security for the South Korean government.

“I trust you’ll secure the package and not let it slip like last time,” Juyeon could hear Kevin tease through his earpiece. He spotted Kevin sipping on champagne in the corner of the ballroom, raising his glass to him to further poke fun at Juyeon’s previous failures.

Juyeon rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he retorted, placing his glass down on the nearest table and following the target out of the ballroom.

Before he could exit the room, somebody stood before him – dressed in a stunning red outfit that could capture attention from ten miles away – and blocked the doorway. You stood in before Juyeon, an eyebrow raised as ran your eyes down his body. Most of the time when you met him, you were both dressed in your all-black protective gear; it was a nice change to see your handsome rival in a black suit, hair styled to perfection.

“You clean up pretty good for someone who works for the second best agency in the world,” you taunted as you dragged your eyes up to meet Juyeon’s eyes.

Juyeon gulped.

He had always been attracted to you, and this had been his downfall.

The two of you worked for competing agencies and were always put on the same missions, being the best and most experienced agents at your agencies. However, nearly every time Juyeon came close to completing his mission, you already had it in the bag. You were clever, stunning, and always a step ahead of him. You also knew that Juyeon was fond of you, and you used it to your advantage whenever possible.

Juyeon couldn’t find it in him to hate you for it.

“I don’t have time for this,” Juyeon said, trying to sound as passive and bored as possible. By the smirk on your lips, he could tell you weren’t convinced, causing Juyeon to falter slightly. “I’m-“

You pulled a USB stick out of your pocket and dangled it in front of his face. Juyeon’s eyes narrowed, and he could hear Kevin and Sangyeon cursing in his earpiece. Dread filled him, overpowered only by the adrenaline he felt whenever he was in your presence.

You had beat him to it, again.

“-looking for this?” you finished his sentence, titling your head to the side to feign innocence. Then, you grinned, tucking it back into one of your pockets safely. “You should get to know your targets better,” you criticised with a smirk. “Maybe it’ll get you somewhere instead of trying to sneak up on them for the first time the night of a celebration.”

Juyeon narrowed his eyes at you, unsure of what to say. “That outfit draws too much attention, how did you manage to get it before I did?” he wondered instead.

You shrugged. “Sometimes you need the target’s attention,” you reminded him, leisurely stepping closer to Juyeon and leaning in so you lips were next to his ear. “Poor Mister Kim kept his eyes on me and made it easy to snatch this,” you patted your pocket. “Right from under his nose.”

“Abort,” Sangyeon told Juyeon through his earpiece. “Get out of there. We need to regroup for Plan B before we’re out of time.”

Seeing how worked up Juyeon was at your victory only made it more enjoyable for you. Before Juyeon could exit through the door, you bushed your lips against his cheek in an almost-kiss. “See you for round 2,” you told him with a wink, leaving Juyeon behind with his heart pounding erratically as you disappeared through the door.

“What the hell happened?” Sangyeon asked once Juyeon and Kevin were back in the car. “You told me you had eyes on him.”

“I did,” Juyeon snapped, trying his best to calm his temper. Realising how rude he sounded, he softened. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “Y/n got to him before I even realised. She probably knew his routine by then, maybe even personally came into contact with-“

“I don’t want to hear about Y/n again,” Sangyeon interrupted, sighing. “What are you doing, Juyeon? You’re the best operative at the agency, yet the same person keeps intervening on all of your missions. It’s making you look incompetent, and our team look weak.”

“He’s doing his best,” Kevin piped up to defend Juyeon, who slumped in his seat. “I was in the room, and you had surveillance on Mr Kim the whole time. Y/n got past all of us, not just Juyeon. She’s just too good at her job.”

“You’re right,” Sangyeon allowed. “I’m sorry, Juyeon. I shouldn’t have blamed you like that.”

“It’s okay,” Juyeon mumbled. “I get it. You’re just looking out for the team.”

When they returned back to CKR headquarters, Sangyeon called for the whole team to gather so they could put Plan B into motion.

“We know where the USB is,” Sangyeon explained. “Y/n is too far from her headquarters to get there by tonight, she’ll have settled somewhere nearby and will be waiting to get transportation back tomorrow. We have to intercept them before that happens.” He decided.

“How are we supposed to do that?” Sunwoo, the intelligence analyst, wondered. He was one of the youngest members on the team, but was no less competent than the older members. “If Y/n has custody of the USB, we’re hardly going to be able to pry it out of her fingers.”

“No,” Sangyeon agrees. “She’s only going to hand it over to people that she trusts,” he added. “So, we need to become people that she trusts.”

“Pose as her team,” Jacob, one of the main intelligence operatives on the team, realised. “If she thinks that we are her transportation, she’ll have no problem handing over the USB.”

“Exactly,” Sangyeon agrees. “We need to have Chanhee run cryptography as soon possible. From what we understand, the information on the USB is timed. We only have 72 to decrypt and access it before it self-destructs and erases everything. And we need that information to be kept out of the wrong hands.”

“She’s not just going to get into any car and hand over the USB to somebody she doesn’t know,” Hyunjae pointed out from where he sat, spinning himself in circles on one of the wheeled office chairs. “I’m sure they have a system where she gets the licence plates so she knows she’s in the right car.”

“It’s a small window, but we can make it,” Sangyeon was sure. “After we know the message has been transmitted, we take down the driver and send in Juyeon to pose as her driver. She’ll recognise him as soon as she gets into the car, so we have to act fast.”

Juyeon was unsure. “I don’t know…” he trailed off, thinking. “It seems too simple,” he admitted. Juyeon had dealt with you enough to know that nothing got by you so easily.

“Simple is best sometimes,” Sangyeon retorted, crossing his arms. “If we think about this too much, or create an extravagant plan, I think Y/n’ll see it coming from a mile away.”

Juyeon nodded. “Alright, leader. I’ll trust you on this,” he decided, knowing that Sangyeon had been operating for far longer than Juyeon had.

The next night, after the sky had darkened, you packed up in your lavish suite at the hotel a few blocks down from where the event was held last night. You were staying down low so that you could get to headquarters as soon as possible. You knew that Mrs Kwon was right when she said that the information on that USB stick was incredibly important; it also had a timer on it and wouldn’t stay relevant for long. There were only around 48 hours left on the information.

After receiving a text from your usual driver saying he was a block away, you secured all of your belongings and tucked the USB into a hidden compartment of your black cargo pants. Tying your hair back, you made your way out of the room and left your key at the reception. They already knew who you were and took it wordlessly, allowing you to slip out the revolving door to wait for your car in the back alleyway.

As the familiar black SUV came rolling around the corner, you smiled and headed over to sit down in the back. “Good evening Phil,” you greeted, getting in and moving to buckle your seatbelt.

The familiar click of a gun made you freeze in place, hands on your seatbelt as you glanced up to see Juyeon sitting in the driver’s seat. “Oh, hi,” you greeted casually, as if your biggest competitor wasn’t just sitting in a car he had abducted. “Nice to see you in more casual clothes. Do you think you could step on it? I’m kind of on a time crunch, here,” you said.

Juyeon narrowed his eyes. “Stay right there,” he told you, trying not to fumble with his gun. He didn’t want to have to harm you in any way, so he hoped for his own sake that you’d be compliant.

You rolled your eyes. “How is it that I’m always one step ahead of you?” you wondered. Quick as a flash, you lifted your leg and kicked the gun out of Juyeon’s hand, taking his surprise as a chance to grab the gun for yourself and point it at him.

Juyeon cursed, freezing in place. He should have known that the threat of a gun wasn’t going to scare you; you were better trained in hand-to-hand combat anyway. “Get out of the car,” you told him in a slow voice, looking at him through narrowed eyes. Juyeon could see the hurt that lingered in them, and guilt filled his gut at the realisation that you somehow felt betrayed by him.

“Y/n,” Juyeon began, trying to convince you otherwise.

“Do as I say, Juyeon,” you replied, opening your car door and slowly following him out. You realised that the narrow alleyway behind the hotel you were staying in provided the perfect place for someone to hijack your car. “Now, what exactly do you think that you’re doing?” you wondered, motioning for Juyeon to step away from the car.

“Y/n, just listen,” Juyeon pleaded. “I know this looks bad, but I just-”

Before he could finish, a giant force threw the two of you into the air. The force of an explosive going off in your car.

Juyeon hit the ground hard, winded from the explosion and coughing as smoke and fire enveloped the black SUV. You had also been thrown to the ground, but your closer proximity to the car meant that you had suffered worse injuries than Juyeon. Both your side and wrist had hit the ground at bad angles during your fall, your head spinning as a result from the impact.

“What the hell?” you exclaimed, coughing on the ground. You had a ringing in your right ear, which had been facing the car when the blast went off, and were struggling to properly get up due to the injury your ribs had apprehended during the explosion.

Civilians had started running away from the surrounding area, terrified. “You just tried to kill me, you asshole!” you exclaimed, horrified at Juyeon’s approach of getting the USB stick from you. Explosives? Really? “What did I do ever do to you?”

“That wasn’t my explosive,” Juyeon snapped in response.

“You pointed a gun at me,” you retorted, coughing. “Why should I believe that you didn’t try to kill me?”

“We need you alive and you know it. Besides, why would I blow up a car that I was planning on driving?” he added, slowly getting to his knees and attempting to stand up.

You let out a shallow breath, realising what this meant for you.

Your boss, Mrs Kwon, had sent a car with a timed explosive in it.

To kill you.

Had Juyeon not hijacked the car, you and your usual driver Phil would have been dead on the way back to headquarters. Police sirens neared you, and you did your best to drag your feet up.

“We need to go,” you murmured, Juyeon trying to help you up as best as he could. “Now,” you added firmly, wincing as you used your non-injured hand to take Juyeon’s arm. Head spinning, you did your best to adjust to your surroundings.

“I know a place,” Juyeon suggested.

Unsure, you glanced up at him. “And why should I trust you?” you asked.

Juyeon paused, eyes softening at the sight of your injured and scratched body. He sighed, “You know why,” his eyes implying even more than his words did.

And you did know.

Ever since you and Juyeon started meeting during your assignments and missions, the attraction between the two of you was clear. Competing against one another had only added to the heightened emotions and energy between the two of you, and when Juyeon realised he had fallen for you, you were once again ahead of him.

You knew the second he was emotionally invested in his relationship with you. But someone as honest and expressive as Juyeon, almost to the point where he seemed innocent, couldn’t hide how he felt.You had never used his feelings for you against him, and you had never indicated that you felt the same either.

“Besides, what other choice do you have?” Juyeon added. “Mrs Kwon just tried to kill you,” he had also caught on. “I’m the best shot you’ve got at hiding out until it’s safe for you again.”

You weighed out your options. “Okay,” you gave in, mostly because you could barely walk on your own. And partially because your gut was telling you to trust Juyeon. “Where are we going?”

After a short argument about whether or not you would let Juyeon fireman carry you, you had won the fight and did your best to hide how badly your ribs were really injured, holding your tongue and diligently following Juyeon. You had sustained many injuries from missions in the past, and you were quite sure that your ribs were just badly bruised and not fractured.

Juyeon turned on the lights to his apartment, helping you over to his sofa. “This is my place,” he explained. It wasn’t too far from where the blast went off, and it was the only safe place Juyeon could think of letting the two of you hide out. He went into the kitchen and rifled through his drawers for his first-aid kit.

“I thought you were just going to take me to your headquarters,” you admitted. “Why didn’t you?”

Juyeon paused his search, spotting the first aid kit and pulling it out quietly. “I don’t know,” he replied, sighing. “You’re hurt and I can’t take you to the hospital because we’re spies and I’m not trying to let you bleed out or anything,” he added, kneeling in front of you and tending to your wounds. He had clearly looked after his own injuries before in the past, as you often had to do after missions, so you let him help you as the two of you sat in silence.

You had always known that Juyeon was handsome. The first time you met him, it was the first thing you noticed about him; his sharp features, small eyes and narrow nose. Something about the combination of his characteristics made him more stunning than you could comprehend.

“Stop staring at me,” Juyeon mumbled, sounding more shy than teasing under your stare. “It’s making me nervous.”

You rose an eyebrow. “I didn’t think spies got nervous,” you replied.

Juyeon paused his handiwork to meet your eyes, an eyebrow raised. “We don’t. I can disarm a bomb anytime. Get information out of the least willing witnesses. But you. You make me nervous,” he retorted. His words caused your breath to catch in your chest, eyes widening slightly at his candour.

You allowed Juyeon to finish tending to your wounds in silence, thinking better than to provoke him again. You weren’t sure what you would say if he responded to your questions like that again, so you decided to not say anything at all. When he finished, you thanked him quietly and let him wrap your torso to support the injury on your ribs. Silently, you watched him tend to his own, much milder, wounds.

“You’re very soft,” you observed as Juyeon quietly put his first-aid kit away and brought you some water. He was far more graceful than you had expected him to be. “The way you move and handle yourself. I know you’re stealthy because of your job, but your movements are very controlled and elegant.”

Juyeon took a seat next to you, handing you a glass of water. Despite everything the two of you had gone through, it felt very comfortable and natural to sit with him like that. “I used to be a dancer,” Juyeon said. You perked up at his confession. “When I was younger. It was all I wanted to do.”

“I can see you as a dancer,” you said, tilting your head slightly, as if imagining Juyeon standing on a large stage and performing. “You have that air of control about you; like you do a lot with your body,” Juyeon hummed. Feeling the need to level with him, you opened up more. “I used to want to be a magician.”

Juyeon burst out in laughter. “You’re kidding,” he accused in disbelief.

“I’m dead serious,” you swore. “I wanted to be a magician. Not a real wizard or someone with real powers, I just wanted to convince people that I could do magic,” you explained.

Juyeon perked up at your words. “A magician,” he murmured, as if trying to picture you with a top hat and a fake wand as a child. “I see that. You always have something up your sleeve whenever we’re on the same mission.” Juyeon recalled.

You smiled. “Sorry about that.”

Juyeon’s eyes shimmered with amusement. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” you agreed reluctantly. “It’s one of the few talents I have. Other than elite espionage.”

Juyeon laughed. “God, you’re good at your job,” he sighed. “How is it that you beat me every single time we have the same mission?” he wondered, giving up on trying to pretend like he didn’t know you were the better spy. “Level with me on this. Every single time.”

“I’m good at reading people,” you shrug. “After a while, I got to know how you thought and how you problem solved. Then, it just became a matter of being a step ahead of you.”

“Which you always are,” Juyeon shook his head in disbelief. “Right when I’m about to act, you’ve already finished the job.”

“Like I said, magic tricks and espionage are my only talents,” you reminded him. “It just comes easily to me. Some people are great painters. I’m great at… physical combat? Logistics? Fooling people?”

“I think you’re an overachiever,” Juyeon mentioned it so casually that you actually laughed.

“Maybe so,” you mused, a grin playing on your lips. “Or I just really like winning.”

“Now that I can agree with,” Juyeon said, nodding to himself. “Everything between you and I is a competition, and you always win.”

“Not everything between us is a competition,” you whispered.

Juyeon smiled slightly, closed-lipped and slightly forced. “I wish that were true,” he replied.

You supposed he was right. In terms of your careers as spies, most of the times you met it was due to having the same mission. This meant that a large part of what made up your relationship was the competitive drive you felt whenever the two of you were together.

Perhaps that was why you tried so hard to deny the fact that you returned his feelings for you.

You sighed. “I wish that I never knew you were a spy,” you mumbled, hugging your legs and resting your head atop of your knees, your glass of water set on the coffee table. “I wish that you and I met at,” you thought about it. “A coffee shop. Or university. Or somewhere else, I don’t know.”

Juyeon nodded in agreement, following suit and mirroring the position you were in, resting his chin on his knees. “Me too,” he agreed. “I wish that I didn’t have to hide you here. Hide you from your horrible boss Mrs Kwon, and my team…” Juyeon groaned. “My team. Oh god, I have no idea what I’m going to tell them.”

“Right,” you recalled. “This was your mission. To get information from me,” you said, the thought making you pout subconsciously. “I’m a mission.”

“You’re not a mission,” Juyeon denied. “You were a part of my mission.”

“Two hours ago, you were pointing a gun at my head,” you reminded Juyeon, raising an eyebrow. “I’m a mission, Juyeon.”

“You’re not,” Juyeon insisted. “You’re… special to me. You’re not an object or an assignment. You’re a person.”

“This is so messed up,” you buried your face in your knees, willing everything to disappear around you. “Up until this morning, you were just the guy that I flirted with during missions.”

“That’s all I was to you?”

“No,” you admitted. “But that’s all our relationship was. Now, I’m on the run from my boss, who’s trying to kill me, and you’re hiding from your team, who assigned you to basically kidnap me for intel.”

“Why do you work for her?” Juyeon wondered. “She’s dangerous, and you’re doing missions for her.”

You shook your head. “You don’t get it,” you told him. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then simplify it.”

“Drop it, Juyeon.”

“Why?” he exclaimed. “You’re putting yourself in danger for somebody who wants you dead, and you don’t want to tell me why?”

“You’re right, I don’t want to tell you why.”

“Fine,” Juyeon huffed, purposely moving his body so he wasn’t facing you head on anymore. “I just saved your life and you still don’t trust me.”

“Do you trust me?” you retaliated.

Juyeon’s silence was enough to answer that one.

“Then we’re back to square one,” you rolled your eyes, moving your legs to stand up. “How-“ you cut yourself off with a cry of pain, having forgotten how badly you injured your ribs in the car blast.

You fell back against the sofa, Juyeon leaping to his feet to help you sit back down. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice rushed as his eyes flitted across your body, searching for any visible sign of pain.

Your eyes clenched closed as your severely bruised ribs throbbed, the sharp pain slowly fading now that you weren’t moving your upper body. When you opened your eyes again, you met Juyeon’s deep brown gaze. His expression had softened when he realised you were no longer in immense pain, and his close proximity made you glance down to his thin, pink lips.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” Juyeon whispered, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he spoke. “Is that okay?” you nodded, not finding the words to reply to him; drawing him in with your eyes.

He leant forward, bracing his hands on the sofa on either side of your body, lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. His lips were warm and soft, and his touch felt familiar despite it being your first kiss with him. You exhaled a sigh through your nose, relishing in how close Juyeon was when he normally felt so out of reach from you. Pulling him closer, you threaded your fingers gently through his hair, parting your lips to deepen the kiss.

This closeness, the fact that Juyeon was within your grasp, caused warmth to blossom in your chest and stomach. For as long as you could remember, your attraction to and feelings for Juyeon had always been pushed to the back of your mind; a fantasy you would never reach. And here you were, wrapped in his embrace.

Waking up in Juyeon’s bed was heaven.

Of course, your whole body felt sore from the impact of hitting the ground after the explosion, and you still couldn’t stand up properly without it hurting due to your ribs. But still, you felt satisfied.

“Hey,” Juyeon greeted, running his fingers through your hair, eyes bleary from sleep. “You okay?” You nodded, wordlessly tracing shapes onto his t-shirt covered chest, not wanting the moment to end. “Your wounds look like they’re closing,” he mused, searching your body. “I think a shower might be due.”

After setting you up with a towel and clothes to change into, you stripped your t-shirt off – having gotten rid of your cargo pants for comfort the night before – and made your way into the bathroom to shower.

Your reflection looked awful.

You had several cuts, bruises, and lacerations on your body from the impact, and you ribs were terribly swollen after you unwrapped it, blue bruises forming across it. Wincing, you hopped into the shower and scrubbed all of the dirt and dried blood from your skin. After using Juyeon’s shampoo and body wash, your chest felt warm and cozy as his scent filled your nose.

After lying in bed for a few extra minutes, Juyeon decided to clean up a little. He made his bed and picked up your clothes from where you had carelessly dropped them in his living room the night before. He paused, feeling the cold touch of a small metallic object in one of the inner pockets.

The USB.

Juyeon hesitated, not sure what to do with it.

A part of him wanted desperately to pocket the small device, a deep desire within him begging him to finish his mission and do the right thing. He knew that the USB falling into the wrong hands would be detrimental to the safety and wellbeing of many government officials and innocent citizens.

Another part of him wanted to tuck it back into the pocket he found it in. The information on the USB could only be encrypted for a short period of time. If Juyeon did nothing, then the information would disappear in 30 hours. He would preserve the progress he made with you the night before and  could make other plans to protect you from Mrs Kwon.

Juyeon didn’t realise how long he held the USB in his palm. Your footsteps snapped him out of his daydream.

“You found it,” you said, too shocked to continue towel-drying your hair. You had gotten changed into one of Juyeon’s long sleeved t-shirts, sweatpants, and socks after your shower. Had it not been for the situation at hand, Juyeon might have told you how stunning you looked in his clothes. “What are you gonna do with it?” you asked him, biting your bottom lip.

Juyeon glanced up, stepping towards you. “Nothing,” he replied, pressing the USB into your hands. He closed your fingers over it, covering your closed fist with his own hand. “I don’t need to do anything about it.”

The moment was ruined as the front door to Juyeon’s apartment was kicked down, several agents and elite spies from Mrs Kwon’s organisation making their way into the living room, guns pointed at the two of you. “Minho,” you said calmly, recognising your team leader.

Minho’s eyes had hardened as he observed the position you and Juyeon were in. “What were you thinking?” Minho asked, his voice unnervingly calm. “Why would you come here with him instead of going back to headquarters? You had a mission, Y/n.”

“She was hurt,” Juyeon defended your actions. “Her car exploded just metres away from her. I wasn’t just going to bring her back to your headquarters after your boss tried to blow her up.”

Minho watched the way you quickly pulled your hand out from under Juyeon’s, raising both of your hands in the air. Juyeon followed your actions, curious about why you were surrendering so easily.

“This is interesting,” Minho mused. “Is this why you keep failing your missions?” he asked Juyeon, tilting his head and mocking him with his words.

“What are you talking about?” Juyeon asked, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re purposefully failing so that Y/n can succeed?” Minho said it in a teasing tone, as if he was revealing Juyeon’s crush during recess in the playground.

“No,” Juyeon denied. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“She can’t be that good of a spy,” Minho retorted. “She’s beat you out on seventy eight missions over four years.” You remained silent, unsure of what to say with so many guns pointed in your direction. “How long have you been together for?”

“Stop it,” you interrupted. “Are you going to fight me, Minho?” you asked.

Minho had been your team leader for almost three years. You had each other’s backs, and the fact that he and the rest of the spies from your organisation were pointing guns at you didn’t sit so well with you.

“I might,” Minho admitted. “If you don’t hand over the USB.”

“I can’t do that,” you said. “Mrs Kwon tried to kill me for this, I’m afraid I won’t just let go of it so easily,” you admitted.

“Please,” Minho rolled his eyes. “That car blew up after your little boyfriend stole it from Phil. He clearly planted it. Why would Mrs Kwon put an explosive in your car? You’re her best agent, and she wants those files,” he recalled. “Forgive me if I just don’t buy it, Y/n.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “I forgive you.”

You turned, nodding at Juyeon and balanced your weight across your feet before you leapt at Minho, swinging your arm in a punch. Juyeon followed suit, turning to kick the guns out of your colleague’s hands and ducking under their jabs. You took on Minho alone, since he was the team leader and the most experienced spy on the team other than yourself.

Usually when you fought with Minho, it was sparring during training; honing in your skills and building each other up. Now, you were fighting to get away from somebody you used to consider close to a friend. “You sold out,” you accused Minho, kicking his gun away from where he had dropped it during your fight.

“So what if I did?” Minho replied, raising an eyebrow. “You think you’re always a step ahead of everyone, but this time, I was,” he added, striking you in your torso. You yelped, falling to the ground as the pain in your already injured ribs intensified. “Any more tricks up your sleeve? Or just a fractured rib?”

“Asshole,” you exclaimed, biting your tongue to suppress more shouts of pain. You struggled to fend off Minho’s advances. He was larger, stronger, and in better condition than you were. Even when the two of you sparred during training, you could only ever win against Minho if you outsmarted him somehow.

Getting to your feet, you tucked your hair behind your ears and squared your shoulders. Minho approached you, diving with his hands stretched towards your torso; by that point, he had realised that you were injured and had a weak spot. You blocked it easily, using the momentum of Minho’s slight stumble to aim your fist at his jaw. Minho exclaimed in pain, falling to the ground and holding his jaw.

You risked a moment to look at Juyeon, who was easily taking on two men at once. The swift and calculated manner Juyeon moved in reminded you of how he said he wanted to be a dancer when he was younger. This, you could easily believe after seeing him in action.

You struck Minho further while he was disoriented from your hit to his jaw, not letting the gruelling pain in your ribs stop you from doing your best to defend yourself. Minho pushed you against the wall, both of your actions getting sloppier from the injuries you were both sustaining.

“Enough,” you exclaimed, taking the USB from where you stashed it in your pocket and holding it out of the open window. Juyeon and Minho audibly cursed, everyone stilling at your bold choice. “One more step, and I drop it,” you warned, the sound of the traffic outside reminding everyone that a car would immediately drive over the USB if you dropped it.

“Y/n,” Juyeon said slowly. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Listen to your boyfriend,” Minho agreed. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Regret?” you echoed. “I almost got blown up because I had this. You think I’ll miss this thing when it’s gone? The only person who loses out would be you,” you told Minho. “This is your recovery mission.”

“Juyeon!” a shout came from the hallway leading up to his apartment. You turned, seeing Sangyeon, Kevin, Jacob, and Haknyeon rush into Juyeon’s apartment. They seemed to have realised where Juyeon was soon after Mrs Kwon’s team had, and were shocked at the scene in front of them. “Are you hurt?” Sangyeon asked, causing Juyeon to shake his head.

“The rest of your boyfriend’s team is here,” Minho drawled. “So, what’s it going to be, Y/n? Are you going to hand it over to me, or him?”

“Why do I need to hand it over to anyone?” you retorted. You had kicked Minho’s weapons out of his reach, and now that Sangyeon and his team were there, Minho was outnumbered. He wasn’t likely to try anything stupid. “What are you going to do? You can’t win this one, Minho.”

Juyeon watched with bated breath as you opened your palm, dropping the USB from the twenty-fourth floor of his apartment building. Sangyeon and Minho gave angry shouts at your action and you stepped away from the window, opening both of your hands to show your empty palms.

Minho moved forward, his fist colliding with the side of your face. You fell to the floor, Juyeon yelling as he ran towards Minho. Sangyeon held him back, stopping him from doing anything he might regret. “I’ll deal with you later,” Sangyeon told him. Juyeon startled; Sangyeon had never looked at Juyeon with so much disappointment before.

Your chest heaved with deep inhales as you tried to catch your breath, propping yourself up using the wall behind you. “And what about you?” you asked Minho, raising an eyebrow; challenging him. “Are you really going to go to Mrs Kwon empty-handed? The USB is gone. About ten cars have crushed it into the road by now. She’s not going to want me, dead or alive. She’s going to want the team leader that let her precious files slip through his fingers.”

Knowing you were right, and seeing how Sangyeon and his team had outnumbered him, Minho glared at you before fleeing from the scene, most likely going to hide from Mrs Kwon and her resources. Sangyeon didn’t stop him; Minho was of no interest to him now that he didn’t have the USB, and he was from a different organisation. Elite spies aren’t a part of law enforcement; he wasn’t going to chase after Minho like a police officer would.

“You don’t know what you’ve just done,” Sangyeon accused you, seething with anger. “You’re protecting Mrs Kwon under the facade that you don’t care what happens to the information on that USB.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Juyeon added quietly. “You were almost killed for that, twice. Don’t you think we could have used what’s on there?”

You nodded. “I suppose you’re right. It’s a good thing I always have,” you pulled the USB out from under the sleeve of Juyeon’s long-sleeved t-shirt that you were wearing, an ode to the many magic tricks you learned as a kid when you dreamed of being a magician. “A trick up my sleeve.”

“We can trust Y/n,” Juyeon insisted, rushing after Sangyeon and Kevin as they led you out of his apartment complex to their SUV. “She hasn’t done anything wrong. Mrs Kwon tried to kill her!”

“Except she has done things wrong,” Sangyeon retorted. “Y/n’s boss is corrupt, Juyeon,” he informed. “Mrs Kwon has been giving government and civilian security details to the highest bidder. That’s the reason her company is the best in the world. They sell private information for profit, and hundreds of people have died for it.”

Juyeon felt his heart drop to his stomach at Sangyeon’s confession. “That’s her boss, not her,” he tried to defend you as best as he could. “It’s a job, Sangyeon.”

“Elite espionage doesn’t exist for the rich to play games with innocent people for money,” Sangyeon snapped. “Our organisations exist so that we can protect people and put away bad guys.”

“I agree,” you voiced, causing Sangyeon’s eyes to meet yours as you neared the car. Despite his harsh gaze, you weren’t intimidated by him. You had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. “Believe me, that’s why I took this job.”

Sangyeon studied your expression, trying to find a hint that you were lying or deceiving him. Then, he held his hand out to you. “I’ll take that USB,” he said. You gave it to him, seeing no point in trying to keep it from him at that point. Minho and the other spies from Mrs Kwon’s agency were long gone, and Sangyeon and his team wouldn’t be able to crack the code without you anyway. “Get in,” Sangyeon told Juyeon. “We’re going to headquarters.”

If Sangyeon wanted to take you to CKR, you had no reason to fight him.

“What’s the status?” Sangyeon asked Chanhee, who had been working on decrypting the files on the USB for over an hour.

You and Juyeon had been driven to CKR headquarters in seperate cars. Kevin did his best to be kind to you, but you remained silent and allowed him to lead you to a simple room with a one-way mirror in it.

Juyeon had debriefed the team on exactly what had happened when he tried to bring you to headquarters the night before. Sangyeon remained unimpressed that Juyeon hadn’t immediately brought you to them, and scolded him for taking away an extra 15 hours of time they could have used to decrypt the files and question your organisation’s best spy.

“There’s over 200 digits in the password,” Chanhee explained, still typing out potential passwords onto the laptop in a blank document. “There’s only three chances before the files self-destruct. I already used one of our chances, and I don’t want to try again until I get a better idea of what it could be,” he said, lush lips stuck in a concentrated pout. “It would help if I knew anything about Mr Kim, but he seems to be a pretty elusive man. Does’t have much of an online presence, which makes sense since he’s in charge of cybersecurity.”

Sangyeon sighed, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache was coming on. “If Mrs Kwon was willing to kill Y/n to keep this information out of her hands, we need to get to it,” he said.

“What’s on it?” Eric wondered from his place on the sofa, playing a game on his phone.

“I don’t know,” Sangyeon shook his head at the youngest. “Boss won’t say.”

“Maybe we should ask Y/n,” Kevin suggested. “If Mrs Kwon wanted to keep it out of her hands specifically, maybe she thought that Y/n could crack the code?”

Sangyeon had already thought of this option, but he didn’t want to have to bring you in. “She works for that awful lady,” he reminded his team. “I don’t trust her.”

Juyeon frowned. “What’s she ever done to make you distrust her?” he wondered. “Other than the fact that she works for an organisation that we think is corrupt? Most of the missions she was on were ones that you sent me on, too. That means that she’s been doing a lot of good during her career in espionage,” he pointed out.

“Bring her in,” Sangyeon decided, sending both Jacob and Kevin in to collect you. You soon appeared, wincing as you limped your way over to the team leader. Your bruised ribs had probably become fractured from your fight with Minho, and any other contusions you had sustained from the fight were starting to bruise a deep purple. Juyeon wanted nothing more than to rush over to you, but he figured this would be the wrong move.

“Can you solve this?” Sangyeon asked you, pointing at the screen.

You shrugged. “I can’t be sure,” you admitted. “But I have a pretty good hunch.”

“Which is?”

“I got to know Mr Kim personally before the event two nights ago,” you explained. “Before he started his career in cybersecurity, he was a chemistry major at Yonsei University for his undergraduate degree. He used to go on and on about how he had to memorise all these different formulas and numbers to pass his exams,” you recalled. “But there was one thing he was particularly proud of, something that none of his classmates could do.”

“Don’t tell me it’s the first 300 digits of Pi,” Chanhee said, frowning. “Because that would be so boring. I could do that when I was eleven.”

You shook your head. “He can recite the atomic numbers of every element on the periodic table,” you told the cryptologist. “In order.”

“Pull up a picture of the periodic table,” Sangyeon ordered to Sunwoo, who quickly complied and pulled it up to the large screen in the centre of the room. “Chanhee?”

“On it,” he mumbled, already typing in the numbers in order. When he was done, he stared at the screen in surprise. “The number of digits perfectly fits,” Chanhee told his team leader. “Do you want me to enter it?”

Sangyeon glanced over at you. “I don’t suppose you made up an elaborate lie that just so happened to work in your favour?”

You shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had that kind of a trick up my sleeve,” you admitted. “But no. I’m not lying.”

Sangyeon’s brows furrowed together. “Alright,” he agreed. “If Juyeon trusts you, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this once. And we always have one more try, then I’ll know for sure if you were lying.”

Sangyeon gave Chanhee the okay to give in the password. Chanhee tapped on the enter key, a grin forming on his lips as he started typing frantically. “I’m in,” he said, causing cheers to burst out around the room.

The boss of the CKR spy agency entered the room, pleased to see the success that Sangyeon’s team had during their mission. “That sounds like good news,” he said, causing all the members of the team to bow in greeting of their boss.

“Yes, sir,” Sangyeon confirmed. “We just got into through the encryption with 28 hours to spare.”

“That’s wonderful work,” their boss complimented, smiling at them all.

“Y/n provided important details about Mr Kim’s life that helped us,” Sangyeon added, surprising you. “Without her help, we wouldn’t have been able to figure it out.”

“Excellent work, Y/n,” the CKR boss complimented, reaching over to shake your hand.

You beamed. “Happy to help, sir,” you told him cheerily. “After all, it is my job,” you reminded him with a wink.

The room went silent as Sangyeon’s team stared at you in shock. “I knew I made the right choice trusting you,” the CKR boss told you, looking proud. “There aren’t many people that can outsmart Juyeon on his missions, as well as work undercover long enough to deeply infiltrate Mrs Kwon’s organisation.”

“Did you just say work undercover?” Juyeon wondered, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“Yes,” his boss admitted. “I hired Y/n five years ago to infiltrate Mrs Kwon’s organisation and expose her corruption. That’s why these files are so important,” he explained.

“Oh my god,” Chanhee muttered, flicking through the files on the USB. “This traces Mrs Kwon’s online presence, dating back over three years. It’s incriminating information against Mrs Kwon’s organisation; she can be sent to jail for the evidence on here.”

“That’s why she tried to kill you,” Juyeon realised, addressing his words to you. “Because Mr Kim uncovered her online footprints.”

“I told you it wasn’t so simple,” you reminded him, giving him your best smile. Juyeon beamed. He often wondered if he was naïve for trusting you, but you had proved to him that you were worth the risk. A double agent. Somehow, Juyeon felt incredibly proud of you.

“Thank you for your hard work, Y/n,” CKR’s boss thanked you. “And now that we have what we need on Mrs Kwon, I’d love for you to continue working here for my most elite team,” he invited you.

“That’s us!” Eric exclaimed happily, now solving a Rubik’s cube upside down.

“As long as they’ll have me, I’d love to,” you told your boss.

Everyone glanced over at Sangyeon, who had the final say on any new members as the team leader. After seeing your skillset that day, everyone on the team was excited to work with you. You had something to offer in almost any area they specialised in. Plus, you were a fairly famous spy amongst the different agency; known as the best of the best. Sangyeon seemed to be struggling to comprehend the situation, having gone through a pretty confusing day.

“So you’re been working for CKR all this time?” he asked. You nodded. “And you’ve been gathering information on Mrs Kwon to use against her with Mr Kim from cybersecurity?” Another nod. “And you really did outsmart Juyeon on all of his missions?”

“I’m afraid so,” you confirmed.

Sangyeon seemed stunned. “Then I think you’d make a good addition to the team,” he agreed. Kevin and Eric cheered, excited that someone as well-known in the spy community as you would be a part of their team. You were infamous around CKR for always outsmarting their best team, and it turns out that you were CKR’s best asset all along. Your boss said his farewells, allowing you to get to know your new team better.

“I can’t believe all of this,” Juyeon breathed out in surprise, helping you onto one of the sofas in the back of the room, careful of your injured ribs. “You’re…”

“A double agent?” you filled in for him.

“…Even more amazing than I thought,” Juyeon finished his train of thought. You grinned, letting Juyeon press a kiss to your cheek and hug you. “And always a step ahead of me, it seems,” he kissed you gently.

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Younghoon mumbled, wincing at the sight of you and Juyeon kissing.

“My little magician,” Juyeon sighed happily against your lips, pulling away to beam at you. His eyes, tired and worn out from the last two days, glimmered with excitement. “This is so much better than competing against you.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and hugging him tightly, wincing slightly at the impact on your ribs. “Who says we’re going to stop competing?”

note: here is the long anticipated full version of my spy!juyeon timestamp!! i hope you guys enjoyed it! it wasn’t super romantic like the other ones but i hope i capture the spy juyeon concept i was going for well :)

[anothertimdrakestan]

Batfam On A Road Trip HC

req: “Batfam on a road trip? It’s been on my mind for like a week-”

oh god it’s probably so chaotic... and like distinctly dangerous???

also this is my car AU where there’s infinite rows of seats in the car until I’m done.

we’ve got Bruce driving - even though Damian, Dick, Tim, Jason, AND Steph all tried to get behind the wheel but after last years incident the only people allowed to drive are Bruce and Duke but Duke doesn’t like driving with his siblings bouncing off the damn walls.

Speaking of Duke, mans snagged himself a window seat SO FAST it would make your head spin. He likes to sit next to Damian (who got put in the middle because he’s the smallest) and they share earbuds and Duke’s phone which is loaded with like 128 hours of songs. Against popular belief, Damian is actually good at sharing when it’s not with one of his more “obnoxious” siblings and he and Duke get along really well - they also have the same music taste. Duke changes between queue-ing songs, staring out the window making little stories in his head, and watching Damian draw. He occasionally is tasked with holding the sharp objects smuggled into the car after they’re discovered by Bruce as he’s the second most responsible (after Cass).

Speaking of the most responsible sibling, Cass somehow got shotgun next to Bruce. This is because she’s the only who makes him not want to throw himself out of the car and she’s a pretty good navigator. So, as she tries to moderate the back of the car she also is in charge of agreeing on pit stops and coffee breaks which works well because Cass is fair and no one can be an asshole to her. On the first road trip Cass discovered a Wendy’s Frosty and now she will usually write at least one Wendy’s stop into the trip - no one complains except Tim who is forbidden from ordering the spicy nuggets after last years incident.

Tim, the one notorious for threatening to throw himself out of the car most often, is sat in the far back. He someone gets a row to himself under the guise of “sleeping” when in reality he spends the trip typing away on his laptop, chugging monster energy drinks, and occasionally trying to make Dick bark like a dog through some kind of sleep-manipulation he read about one night at 2am. It involves him whispering in his ear and usually ends up making the whole car uncomfortable, except Jason who thinks it’s the funniest shit ever. However, after the incident his back seat gets thoroughly checked by Bruce for stowaways every pitstop, but he’d never store a secret in the same place twice...

We move to Jason! Who sits next to Steph. They’re the snack distributors. Known for throwing popcorn in the other’s mouths but it usually ends up being thrown at Bruce, Damian, or both. Jason is a champ at fruit roll up eating competitions. He claims it’s because his tongue is so strong from eating... nevermind. Jason is surprisingly organized about the snacks, and frequently restocks (with Bruce’s credit card of course) on pit stops. Jason likes to complain early into the trip but by the end he’s telling the most fun stories, singing the loudest, and causing the most trouble. His and Steph’s row is definitely the most fun. But he’s still on the list with Bruce after helping Tim become a world class smuggler during the trip that shall not be named.

Steph is the family interpreter. She shares messages from the back to the front and vice versa. She’s known for saying the back row is hungry when it was in fact her but everyone loves her for her honesty. She’s the first to ask for a leg stretch break, and the one who puts on good songs after Dick has had the aux for too long. She’s basically the lorax of the batfam road trip. She usually makes the snack packs that are distributed throughout the car and is known for memorizing everyone’s favorites to optimize the best snacks. Steph actually wasn’t in the car for the great incident, she often questions what happened but only knows what Dick quietly whispered to her, something about feeding nuggets to a foreign passenger...

Dick, the storyteller, the terrible-music-meister, the road trip organizer himself, sits on the other side of Damian. He was the one who purposefully cleared everyone’s schedule for the weekend and who roughly planned the route. Dick works closely with Cass to make sure they’re going the right way and he also mediates all fights that occur during the trip, and trust that there are a lot. Dick is known for being restless and often throws his head out the window on the freeway “just to feel something” his quote not mine. Dick is incharge of taking all dangerous items off Damian (and sometimes Tim’s) person before the trip and he was in the most trouble when the intruders were found during last years incident. But he took it with stride and promised Bruce this year would be better!

Damian, the deeply unhappy middle seater, can be found drawing and pretending he can’t hear Grayson blabbing on about “this crazy adventure he had as Robin so sooo long ago”. Damian is known for pouting through the first stop but after he’s had some quiet time he can actually be seen with the corners of his mouth upturned- especially if they drive past farms during the trip (Cass tries extra hard to make sure they do). Damian also had been known to try to run away during stops so he’s kind of heavily watched by Bruce and Dick. Luckily, his place in the middle seat means he’s far enough away from Tim to be “bothered by his mere presence” which is a significant win and close enough to Duke and Cass to keep him sane.

We are in fact missing two main people: Babs and Alfred. These two opt to stay home, getting the much deserved break they need. They like to have tea parties, cleaning extravaganzas, and (though they won’t admit it) the occasional dance break in the batcave when no one’s looking. They like to take the batmobile to get food and their guilty pleasure is watching rom-coms on the giant screen in the batcave while eating “trashy takeaways” as Alfred so eloquently calls them. These two have the best time, but if anyone asks they were simple awaiting the rest of their families return.

That’s how I think it’d go down! Overall I think it would be chaotic but not as bad as one might think, they are family after all : )

Oh wait, I forget, there are two more stowaways...

Bart and Kon are silent, Kon mostly flies above but occasionally slips into the trunk to rest with Bart. Bart easily slips into the trunk and is quite literally gone in a flash if Bruce ever suspects anything. Just because Tim can’t hand feed him nuggets doesn’t mean the boy isn’t read for road trip part two! He just hopes Kon made a flying stop at tacobell because he’s getting kinda hungry...

“Timmmm are we there yet?”

“DID I JUST HEAR WHAT I THINK I DID TIM”

“oh my god I finally experienced the great incident but now part two!”

“hi Steph! Yeah I’m here! Sorry Brucie, but yeah, can you pass me a twizzler?”

“HOW DID YOU DO THIS AGAIN TIM I SWEAR TO-”

yup, now that’s a batfam road trip : )

[pascalpanic]

Okay hi I’m back with an IDEA☄️

So. I’ve been thinking about how stubborn javi would be with his feelings. Like maybe he’s being messing around with this girl and he knows he has feelings for her and she knows it too but both of them are so stubborn so they go out of their way just getting under each other’s skin.

Like imagine they’re at a bar with steve and she’s just flirting around and dancing with guys all the while shooting him bedroom eyes and he’s just there BROODING AND ANGRY n Steve is just like “you guys are so insufferable” UGH

aaaaaaa i love this so much!! here we are:

Always Been Yours (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: Javier doesn’t take kindly to having his dance partner stolen from him.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: language, lots of bad flirting, mentions of sex and sexual topics but nothing too explicit, Javier is his own warning. alcohol and cigarettes.

A/N:  ☄️ anon you have done it again!! this was so much fun to write I hope it’s what you were thinking!!

Restraint is one of Javier’s best qualities. He can hold back when he needs to, save his emotions until they’re all too much then channel them out by fucking or drinking them away. He does it often, in fact. Sometimes, that restraint is too strict. Javier never allows himself to relax, never allows himself the luxury of feeling the powerful emotions his mind creates. 

This restraint can sometimes transfer over even when Javier doesn’t mean to. He wants to let loose, he really does, but he physically can’t most of the time. Contrary to the men at work who tell him he’s too impulsive, he’s an overthinker. He mentally runs every possible outcome of any situation he’s in. He just picks the more dangerous options sometimes.

Javier holds back his emotions even more when it comes to romance. He sleeps around quite a bit, does what he pleases with whomever he chooses. It’s not because he lacks feelings or attachment, it’s because he fears them both. He knows what he did to Lorraine hurt her immensely. He never wants to hurt someone again, and so he avoids romantic relationships. 

He fell for you when he met you. It was as plain and simple as that. When you moved your cardboard box into the desk in the corner of his and Murphy’s bullpen, his eyes were drawn to you. You had such an elegant and beautiful walk, he noticed. Your head was held high, your hips swayed like you were dancing. When you shook his hand, when he felt your soft fingers in his calloused palm, he was fucked. 

He flirted with you. Of course he did. That’s how Javier does things. The flirting was subtle and quiet, not loud and brash like he normally was. He told you he loved those earrings, that that blouse was really beautiful. It always tied back to how beautiful you were. 

It escalated when he realized you were into him too. You’d flirt back shamelessly, telling him that you wished you were involved with the narcos so that he'd pay more attention to you. He’d shoot back that you weren’t looking right, because his eyes were always trained on you. Steve made a vomiting noise at that and left for more coffee. “You’re just jealous he’s flirting with me and not you, Murphy,” you called out after him. You looked back at Javi with a devilish grin, and he shot one back in return.

That’s how your relationship has been going this time. You’re down hard for Javier, completely entranced by him. When he talks about cases, you have a hard time listening. Your eyes trace his biceps, the way they bulge against the sleeves of his shirt. You make snarky comments just to see the fire in his eyes ignite again.

Javier really wants to ask you out, he does. But he fears it’s unprofessional. He fears that you just want to hook up with him, and he likes you too much to do something like that. He wants you fully, in an all-consuming way. 

You really like him, but you fear the same from him. His reputation precedes him, and you know all about Javier’s habits. You know he sleeps with informants to get information in those quiet moments after the work is done. You know he flirts with anything in a skirt around the office, and has slept with a decent number of those women too. Javier is a tornado, tearing through women faster than they can recover. If that’s not enough for him, you know he loves to frequent certain brothels in the area. You notice the sneaking way some of the girls there will grab his arm and murmur something as he walks past, the way he’s far too into it for being on the job. They know him by name sometimes. He knows them too. 

As much as you want to be with Javier, you don’t want to be with the womanizer. You want to be with him in the early hours of the morning, want to tighten his tie for him before you walk into work together. You want to make him laugh and want him to stay with you and hold you after the events of the night. 

You’re practical though. That’s not really who Javier is. You know that as well as you know the man. You want him in any way you can get him, really. That means you’re willing to just sleep with him. You’d take a night with him over never touching him at all. 

Drinks after work are a common occurrence for you, Steve, and Javier. All three of you need the assistance of alcohol to relax after the chaos that is working for the DEA. The two men order beers, and you order a strong cocktail the bar you frequent is known for.

Tonight is a rare night where Connie is out of town. You and Javier, the two single ones, demanded that the three of you absolutely must go to the club. It’s a Friday night, you got off work early for once, and you want to let loose. Steve reluctantly agreed, and now you’re sitting in the backseat while Steve drives you and Javier. 

As you enter the club, the music is loud and the bass pounds. You whoop excitedly and wander into the dance floor. Steve and Javier find barstools and sit. 

You return after that initial song ends, resting one arm on Javier’s shoulder. They ordered a drink for you, the one they know you love. “Aw, thank you guys,” you coo and rest your head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Jesus Christ, kid. You haven’t even had anything to drink yet and you’re acting like this?” The blonde scoffs and looks down at you.

You frown. “Steve, come on. It’s a Friday night, I’m with my favorite guy, and Javier is here too. How couldn’t I be this happy?”

Javier rolls his eyes at you. “Thanks for that, princesa,” he murmurs as he sips at his whiskey.

The three of you remain at the bar for a while, chatting and laughing. Eventually, a song comes on that you know Javier loves. “Alright, you big buzzkill,” you laugh and grab Javier’s strong bicep. “Come dance with me.” 

Javi groans as he stands and sets down his glass. “Fine. Only because you look so good tonight,” he mumbles to you.

Once you reach the floor, his arms wrap around your waist and yours encircle his neck. His hips start moving against yours to the music and you shudder, bare arms prickling in the humid air of the club. You rest your face in the curve of his neck as you dance, both of you moving your feet in perfect time with the other. 

He’s a wonderful dancer, you already knew, but something about it is extremely intimate. Your bodies, which have long desired the other’s, are flush against each other. He can feel your tits pressing into his chest and one of your hands slides up into his hair, toying with the waves it finds there. He uses all of the power he physically has to stop the blood from flowing straight to his dick. 

“You’re good at this,” you mumble into his ear.

“Only because it’s you I’m dancing with.”

Your time in Javier’s arms doesn’t last long. You dance more separately now, one hand of his still on your waist. It all shifts when another man puts a hand on your hip and turns you his way. “Can I steal you away?” He asks. He’s handsome, dark hair and dark eyes. He’s tall, taller than Javi. You don’t want anyone but your DEA agent, but this presents a wonderful opportunity. 

“Of course,” you nod and he twirls you into his arms, wrapping one arm around you and taking one of your hands in his.

Javier watches in disbelief at the ease the man had in taking you from him. You’re now pressed to this random man’s chest, one hand resting over his heart. You giggle at something he murmurs to you and your body is pressed tight against his. 

Javier stalks off back to the bar, sitting back down next to Murphy and slamming his whiskey. “Another one,” he calls from the bartender, who has another glass tumbler sitting in front of the man in a matter of seconds.

He watched you from the bar with a growing fire in his eyes. The way your hips moved was like the spinning of a hypnotist’s wheel, drawing him in until he couldn’t look away. You were passed around from man to man, grinning and laughing the entire time. You were having fun, that much was clear, and it almost made Javier feel bad for the jealousy that burned a pit in his stomach. He lights a cigarette to dull the want he feels for you.

Your partner spins you around and you lock eyes with Javier. They’re trained on you, they have been the whole night. You smirk a little before continuing the turn, wrapping yourself into your partner’s chest as he pulls you along across the floor. 

Steve rolls his eyes and downs the rest of his beer. “For the love of fuckin’ Christ, Peña. Either quit staring at her like that or go fuckin’ get her from that man.”

Javier glares back at Steve. “Shut the fuck up. You’re supposed to be my wingman, not to fucking yell at me.”

“You need to be yelled at. I am being your wingman. In my professional opinion, as a man who’s fucking married to a woman who played the hard-to-get deal, you need to go show her that you actually do like her or she’s gonna end up going home with that fucker.”

Steve always gives Javier the tough love he needs. He groans as he realizes that Steve is probably right. He needs to go do something now. You lock eyes with him and give him your best teasing smile, your eyes showing everything. You’re having fun, but if Javier comes and stops you, you’d let him do whatever the fuck he wants. “Come get me,” you mouth to the man before resting your head against your partner’s chest, laughing and swaying along with him. 

Javier downs his second whiskey and stands. “Fuck it.”

“Atta boy,” Steve laughs and claps him on the back. “I’m telling you now, I’m not driving the two of you home if you’re gonna be making out in the backseat.”

Javier smirks and stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray on the bar. “I live close enough to walk.” He cracks his neck and makes his way out into the rainbow-colored chaos that is the crowded dance floor. 

You’re hard to find in a sea of people, all of them twirling and moving. Some women have their heads on their partner’s chest, making it even harder to find you. Javier finds the last man who held you in his arms, the one wearing a green shirt. He’s got someone else now. 

Javier is caught by surprise when two arms wrap around his neck and his naturally find their way to rest on the hips of the person: you. “Hey, Peña,” you grin at him, one hand resting on his chest. “Sorry I got pulled away.”

“No you’re fucking not,” the man laughs, moving you along to the music.

“I am,” you refute him, frowning a little. “I wanted to dance with you, but I figured I’d give the other guys a shot. Especially since you’re taking your sweet ass time with me.”

Javier’s eyes darken slightly. “They should’ve realized you’re mine.”

You look up at him, tilting your head and eyes narrowing. “Oh, I’m yours?”

He shakes his head. “We both can tell. You know that, know what’s between us.”

“No clue what you’re talking about.”

“Can I show you, then?” He offers. 

You nod, scrunching your nose. “Do your worst, Javi.”

He cups the side of your face with one large hand and kisses you deeply. You gasp in surprise, even though you knew it was coming. It’s warm and perfect, Javier’s strong arms holding you in place.

The rest of the dance floor twirls and moves along, but you and Javier have stopped moving. Your feet are planted firmly to the ground, arms wrapped around him like an anchor point in a sea of people. He kisses you harder and you allow it, kissing him back just as deeply. He tastes like whiskey and you taste like the fruity cocktail you drank earlier. Normally, the two would taste awful combined, but it doesn’t matter because now it tastes like you and Javier and anything with him included is the most delicious thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of gracing your tastebuds.

He breaks away a moment later. “Can I buy you a drink?” He asks teasingly.

“Not if you want me in your bed tonight,” you flirt right back. You can feel the apples of your cheeks warming with a rush of blood from the kiss, from what you’re insinuating, from the alcohol and from the movement on the floor.

“I don’t. I just want you in my arms and maybe on my lips some more.”

You look up at him, truly astounded. “I thought you’d just want to fuck me and be done,” you admit honestly as you push back a strand of dark brown hair that fell into his face while the two of you moved.

“I don’t want that,” he shakes his head still breathless from the kiss. “I want you to be mine. I wanna take my time with you, and yeah I wanna fuck you, but I wanna date you properly and bring you flowers and walk you home late at night, and then I wanna rail you into the mattress so hard all you can feel is me. But that can wait. For now, I just wanna dance with you and tell you that I really like you. Have for a while now.”

You’re grinning ear to ear at his words. “Really?” You ask.

“No,” he deadpans. “I just said all that shit for fun.” 

“Your sarcasm is really annoying when I’m trying to be sweet and sincere with you.”

He sighs. “Yes, really, princesa. I just want you to be mine.”

The grin on your face only widens, your heart in your eyes as you look at him. “You don’t need to want it. I’m already yours. Didn’t you say that?” The music changes into a new song, something slower and sultry. “Ooh, I love this one,” you sing to Javi, forcing him along so that the two of you are once again dancing. “I’ve always been yours, Javi,” you admit, your thumb softly tracing the side of his neck from where your hand rests on his shoulder. “Since the moment we met. I really like you.”

“I really like you too, dulzura,” he murmurs and kisses you again. It’s not all-consuming or hot and sloppy like the last one. It’s warm and chaste with only the purest of intentions, Javier’s hands gripping your waist a little softer. 

He gets carried away by the way your lips meet his. One of his feet steps on your toes, exposed by the heels you’re wearing. “Fuck,” you cry and wince. 

“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, instinctually taking a step back from you so that he can’t possibly do it again.

You smile up at him softly as the pain subsides. “It’s alright. Maybe we’ll just need to get you some dancing lessons,” you tease and pull him close again.

You spend the rest of the song like that, slowly swaying along. Javier’s arms wrap around your waist, and he softly kisses the side of your head a few times. Eventually, your head finds its way to his shoulder, where it rests as Javier quietly mumbles the lyrics of the song to you. 

He’s not very good at it, and he’d be the first to admit it, but it’s beautiful when he’s soft and quiet. He’s doing it just for you, this quiet act of intimacy. You press a kiss to the skin of his neck when the song ends and he hums a chuckle. “My girl,” he murmurs and kisses you one last time. “Let’s go home.”

-

taglist: 

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867

[erectionsandtea]

Poly party summer fun headcanons, part 2 ! 😀 (this got way too long so I’m posting it as it is, and if I get more ideas, or if you guys want to send me anything 😉, I’ll either reblog this post or make a new one.) Enjoy!

(part 1 can be found here)

Amusement park: (these are based on amusement parks I have been to since they're all I know, lol)

IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER

- they go early so they can do everything (twice) but they also stay until it gets dark bc El wants to see all the lights

- one of her favorite rides is the big ship that swings back and forth because it feels like flying

- Max, Lucas, and Dustin take El on her first roller coaster ride, and it's super scary but she also loves it (Robin and Nancy go, too)

Lucas and Dustin scream like little girls on the roller coaster and become the butt of many jokes about it (most of them from Max)

Max and Lucas would totally try to kiss for the roller coaster camera (idk why okay, stop me) but the photo would look absolutely ridiculous and Max’s hair is fuckin EvERYWHERE

El uses some of her money to buy a copy of the photo (she buys a copy of their photo from every ride, it's a lot of money, but the others help her out with it), and when she gets home, Will helps her make a collage of all the photos that she puts up in her room

- El also wants caricatures, but they don't have enough money for everyone (so she just gets one of herself). Will watches the artist, who gives him tips on how to do it so he can draw some for El later (and he totes does bc good brother vibes)

- they do the ferris wheel last bc it is super romantic (even more so at night), and everyone wants to go with everyone else. Max wants to go up every time someone else does bc she wants to try to spy on them, lol

Groups, in order from side to other side (sitting, not riding order):

for her very first time: Max/El/Mike (her two bffs, aka her bf and gf)

Mike/Will

Max/Lucas

Dustin/Suzie

El/Max/Lucas

El/Mike/Will

El/Mike

El/Max

the guy running the ferris wheel is just like “you kids again???” bc they keep just getting off the ride and going straight to the back of the line to go up again, but eventually they have to stop bc the park is literally about to close and they’ll be kicked out

- there's also a haunted house ride and El absolutely has to ride with Mike bc when she is scared or feels like she's in danger, he's always been the best at making her feel okay again. She clings to him throughout the ride, but ends up laughing at how cheesy not-scary most of the effects are.

- as exhilarating as the drop rides are, El doesn’t like going on them too much but she can do it like, once. maybe twice.

- Lucas and Max, and Dustin and Will, like that ride that’s like the ferris wheel except you’re in a cage and you can manipulate the cage (by spinning it and stuff) to take you upside down. Dustin and Max do it too much, like to an extreme, and Will and Lucas are like “stop, the world is literally spinning” and they’re very disoriented when they get off

- there’s a rapids ride, and since the rafts are big enough to hold 8 people, the whole party is able to go together in one, and then the teens can go together in another one. they totally get sprayed by bystanders. 

- there's a shooting game (like where you go through a tunnel on a track, and targets pop up and you shoot them)

Lucas is the best and El rides with him bc the best should introduce the newbie, and she has so much fun, it's nothing like the guns she's experienced in her previous (lab) life.

Max and Dustin fight really hard to be second best.

Mike and Will go together and compared to the others, they suck, but that's okay they have fun anyway, and they joke about their own terribleness.

- Dustin buys those deep-fried snacks (you know the ones I mean) and he is literally the only person in the group that likes them (okay, not true, Robin can handle them, too)

El, against the advice of the others, wants to try those snacks bc she’s never heard of anything like that before, and the first time she takes a bite, her face goes through a range of like 10 emotions bc she’s being assaulted by flavors-

but after she manages to swallow it, she’s like “wow, that was amazing” and the others are like “...you serious??”

Mike is just like “that is disgusting and I’m not kissing you after that lol” and El is just like “but...why?” (he totes does tho, he doesn’t give a f, he’s kissing his gf bc he just can’t resist the cuteness)

Nancy, even though she doesn’t necessarily like it, can totally handle taking a bite and finishing it (like that beer from season 1) and Robin is like “that’s impressive, band geek” and Nancy’s just like “I’m not in band” (idk lol)

- El wanting to try EVERY food but the others have to cut her off bc it’s so expensive and she will get so sick

- Mike being a good bf and holding souvenirs bought by his bf and gf (Will totally buying a sweet little something for his awesome mom) (El totally doing the same thing to remind herself of Hopper, but she keeps it in her room instead)

- Lucas also being a good bf for the same reason but complaining about it, lol

- everyone goes on the log ride (you might know it as the flume) bc there isn’t a person on earth who doesn’t like that ride, and even tho she knows about the impending splash, El is still super surprised when it happens

Groups, in order (front to back):

El, Mike, Max, and Lucas (Max is explaining to El over Mike’s shoulder that “you absolutely HAVE TO be in the front, it’s the best way”)

Suzie, Dustin, Steve, and Robin (irrelevant but don’t tell me Robin sits in front of Steve, there’s no fuckin way, she’s not his gf, also Steve and Dustin just have to sit together bruh)

Will, Dustin (bc obvsly he goes on again), Nancy, and Jonathan

Mike has his arms around El like he thinks he’s going to protect her from the huge spray of water (but his skinny arms won’t protect shit lol) and he somehow manages to make a decent photo come out of him kissing her cheek while she is simultaneously screaming (good screaming)

- everyone loves the bumper cars (Jonathan and Suzie hang back tho, to hold everyone’s stuff and cheer from the side)

Max, as the only one (sans teens) who has actually driven a car before, rides with El so she can teach her how to do it

her and Lucas (with his passenger Will) are automatically in competition with one another (”you’re going down!” “no, YOU’RE going down!”)

Robin, riding by herself, goes after Steve and driver Nancy (who’s surprisingly good at this)

and Dustin (passenger Mike) gangs up with Robin to take on Steve and Nancy, which makes Nancy even more determined now to destroy both of them

Steve’s a little afraid of Nancy when she’s like this, lol

eventually Dustin and Robin are like “okay okay, we’ll stop! jesuschrist, how did you get so good at this??” (but also they are just in total awe of Nancy) and they just go after each other instead

- El doesn’t like spinning rides (too dizzy and they totally make her tummy “feel weird, like there’s a storm in it” “uh oh, you’re nauseous, El” “naw-shus?” “yeah, like sick, here, sit down for a minute”), but Will loves them and he’s there for her

- the sky ride (the one that takes you from end of the park to the other), groups:

Mike and Will on one side, Max and El on the other (the seats are basically little cabins, seats for 4 people)

Lucas and Dustin on one side, Jonathan and Steve on the other

Robin on one side (she totally takes up the whole double space, putting her leg up), Nancy and Suzie on the other

- carousel ride! (during the day)

El wants the prettiest horse

Max gets the most badass thing which is like...a wolf??

Lucas and Dustin ride only bc there’s a game where you can try to throw rings into a hole while going around (they each get one in by pure luck but otherwise suck). they don’t really care what animals they get, they just need ones that move up and down. Dustin gets a cat with a fish in his mouth, and Lucas ends up just picking a rabbit before everything is taken and he doesn’t have a choice anymore. The others fuckin laugh at the image of Lucas riding a rabbit

Suzie gets another horse

Will gets a lion which doesn’t move up and down but he’s okay with that, he’s kinda just going bc everyone else is

Mike gets stuck with a horse bc he was at the back of the group and by the time he gets there, every other non-horse animal is taken (but they joke about how he should have gotten the non-moving giraffe, taken by Steve, bc it’s so tall and gangly like him lol)

Nancy gets a horse

Robin takes the wild boar bc “dude that is the most badass animal on a carousel I have ever seen!”

Jonathan stays behind, no matter how much the others beg, but he takes lots of really good pictures (including the one time Dustin gets the ring in the hole and then cheering, then also him and Lucas high-fiving, and the various couples exchanging really cute looks, and El having the best time ever bc she’s never been on one of these before)

they go on the carousel one more time near the end of the night and this time Jonathan gives in and rides with them, but he sits in one of the benches that’s just there for the parents), and he still takes pictures as best he can without getting up and moving

- photo booth photos! (I’ll leave the silly face ones up to your imagination)

El and Max (one super close hug with faces pressed together, one kiss, one silly faces, and one smiles)

Will and Mike, but Max and El totally burst in for like, the last 1.5 pictures, it doesn’t ruin them tho, Mike and Will just ignore them (one nice smiles bc they’re like “what do we do??”, one hug, one kiss being interrupted by the girls in the background, one candid laughing while the girls wave at the camera)

Will and Mike again (one candid of Mike holding the curtain shut to make sure no interruptions and Will laughing, one kiss (non-interrupted), one silly faces, one just being super cute and close together and leaning on each other)

Max and Lucas (one smiles, one kiss, one of her pretending to look tough by putting him in a headlock or putting a fist next to his face like a punch, one that was supposed to be funny faces but instead is her looking off to the side where Mike has opened the curtain and stuck his head (with his tongue out) in as revenge and Lucas with that look of “dude, really??” on his face)

Dustin and Suzie (one kiss, one smiles, one nose-to-nose, one super close together leaning on each other cute)

Mike and El (one smiles, one kiss, one of him like surprise-trying to pull her into his lap kind of thing idk and her just looking super surprised but happy but also Max is in the background ruining YET ANOTHER picture, and one candid of them giggling about the previous picture with their foreheads pressed together almost nose-to-nose)

Mike and El again bc she wants non-interrupted photos (one with her actually sitting in his lap this time (she did this beforehand so he wouldn’t scare her again with the surprise-pulling thing), one of them pretending to look all hoity-toity like super models, one with her arms around his neck and his arms around her waist and they’re all close and cute sort of candid, and one just like the last one except they’re looking at the camera and smiling)

Will and Mike and El (one with Mike in the middle while his gf and bf give him a kiss on each cheek, one with El hanging over Mike’s shoulders in sort of a half-piggyback and he and Will are laughing, one with Mike and Will kissing while El makes a funny face at the camera, one of them all making funny faces at the camera)

Max and El and Mike (one with El in the middle, Max’s arms are around her waist almost dipping her backwards, her legs are up in the air (as far up as they can go in the tiny booth) and her head is tilting back onto Mike’s shoulder with his arms around her shoulders and he’s pressing a kiss to her hair, one with El kissing Mike’s cheek while he and Max make funny faces, one with Max behind them and her arms over both of their shoulders pulling them all close and their faces squished together with this super big cheesy grin while Mike is laughing at El’s funny face, one with Mike and El kissing and Max sitting next to them making the 👌🏻 symbol and winking at the camera, bc she just has to get sassy)

Bonus, more teens:

- Robin takes Steve on all the crazy rides (aka drags him, makes him go, etc.) They both get a little sick, but for her it's totally worth it (for him...not so much)

- Dustin and Robin get along hella bc he joins them on the crazy rides and is just @steve like “what are you, a pussy?”

- Nancy has to remind Jonathan that the kids will be FINE, and they don't need to hover around them all evening, "let's go enjoy ourselves"

- Nancy likes roller coasters, CHAnGE mY MInD

- Steve and Robin totally scream when they go on the drop ride together, except Robin’s scream is more “holy shit, exhilarating and so exciting! whooooo!” while Steve’s is more “this is fun but also I’m totally gonna die!!”

- Steve is a boss at those games where you have to throw something at/into/onto a target and he wins a stuffed animal

- Robin is p decent at those games too, but she’s not a match for the king (she comes close though, they actually turn it into a competition to see who can win more stuff)

- Nancy kicks butt at that game where you shoot a spray of water and make the target thing rise to the top or race or whatever (any shooting game, really), you know what I mean (Jonathan fucking fails, sorry Jonathan)

- Steve totally wins that game where you swing a mallet and try to ring the bell. Robin doesn’t win but she gets way closer than they thought she would and Steve’s “wtf”. Dustin is also stronger than he looks, and even tho he doesn't win, he can at least lift the (smaller) mallet, which is more than any of the others can do.

- Robin HAS to do that game where you try to climb the flat, almost horizontal rope ladder to the end and she doesn’t even make it halfway before she falls, but it’s hilarious

- Nancy also tries that game after some goading from the others, and she makes it farther than Robin (about halfway) but still fails fantastically. And then she takes a bow.

[clairecrive]

“Mirror, mirror” - Remus Lupin

A/n: And here’s another Remus one. I’m sorry but I’m so into him you can’t even imagine. I have to let out these feelings some way. For my Hardy’s mutuals don’t worry I’m working on an Alfie piece too *wink wink*.  Well then, hope you like this <3

Warnings: none

Summary: Secret Santa situation

Words: over 1.3k

 HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

inspired by this tik tok video 

The Marauders usually spent Christmas time at the Potter's. It had become a tradition of sorts but only after Sirius had left his house, before that they would only meet for the annual New Year's party hosted by Euphemia and Fleamont.

However, since their group kinda merged with that of the girls after James finally succeeded in wooing Lily, they moved the opening of presents to the week before they had to go home. They would still see each other for the party but by then it would be too late to exchange gifts.

So here they were, in the common room of the Griffindor Tower, sitting in a circle in front of the fire trying to guess who their gift was from.

None remember whose idea it was but whoever it was suggested they tried doing Secret Santa this year. It was difficult to get the right gift for every one of them so this way it was easier for them and each of them still got a gift.

It was Remus' turn to open his present and guess but by the way he was looking at it, he hadn't a clue. To be fair, the shape of the wrapped object wasn't conventional. It didn't look like a book, something that everyone would have thought he was getting. Apparently, whoever his secret Santa was, they had decided to get creative.

It wouldn't have been all that difficult to guess who it was though. All it took was to glance and everyone's faces and then one would unmistakably notice the look of apprehension and anticipation on someone's face. That would have been a dead giveaway Fortunately for y/n though, no one seemed to have noticed, least of all the directly concerned one.

On top of the package, there was a small piece of paper. The writing was in black ink and elegant cursive and while the first sentence was at the top centre, the drawing of a small mirror was the one to whom the second sentence belonged to. As if he was answering to whatever had made the question.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?

But of course, the one the flowers move for."

Remus only stared at it in confusion, he was sure he had heard the rhyme before but he couldn't pinpoint when and where. Maybe it was a muggle thing y/n or Lily had said, he would always have trouble remembering that kind of things for some reason. What he didn't know though, was that the rhyme itself was a spoiler for the present laying on his lap.

Without thinking too much about its meaning though, he carefully removed the wrapping paper only to be met with... his face?

His scarred face was reflected in an orned mirror that looked old but was clearly hand made and of good quality. It wasn't just a mirror though, just like Remus wasn't just a werewolf. Not that he'd ever say it, mind you, but it was the reasoning behind y/n's gift.

On the bottom of the mirror, there were five small sunflowers. Each of them different from the other but all of them facing whoever was standing in front of the mirror. Remus could see a faint trace of the same paint used for the flowers on the frame of the mirror so he deduced that they were hand-painted recently and did not come originally with the mirror.

"Are you sure there was your name on it? Because this looks like the perfect gift for Sirius," chimed James over his shoulders.

"Oh, please. I'm not the one who spends at least ten minutes every morning fixing his hair," Sirius snickered clearly pointing at his best friend

"Well, I need to look girl for my girl don't I," he smirked wrapping his arm around Lily who was still getting used to him calling that

"You're right Prongs, not everyone can be effortlessly dashing,"

"Well, now we know why this would have been a useless present for Sirius." Rolling her eyes, y/n stated from her place beside the long-haired boy and in front of Remus who still trying to wrap his head around the identity of his secret Santa.

                                      ***                 ***                   ***

It was later in the evening, everyone had opened their presents and full from the delicious food offered by the school, they had all retreated to their rooms. Well, everyone but one of them.

Holding his present in his hands, Remus was still trying to figure out who had bought this for him. And most importantly, why. It wasn't a secret that he wasn't the most confident in his looks. The scars covering his body had never failed to remind him that there was something wrong with him. But then again, seeing as this person had taken the time to actually paint flowers on it, it meant that there was some explanation behind it. Remus couldn't see it to save his life though.

Soft footsteps broke him out of his thoughts and he turned around to see y/n standing at the end of the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories with a glass of water in her hands.

"What are you doing here?" Y/n wondered yawning

"Couldn't sleep."

"Same," she said making her way to sit next to Remus who went back at staring at the mirror.

"Do you know that sunflowers move in whatever direction the sun is?" She asked lowering the now empty glass on the floor beside the sofa.

"They do?" Remus asked in surprise making y/n hum in confirmation.

"And they all point towards you." She pointed out after a while, aiding him in the right direction seeing as he was still looking at the gift puzzled.

"So, you're saying that whoever made this for me thinks of me as the sun?" This time he turned to face her and she just shrugged her shoulders. To be fair, she was the one who had made that for him but she wasn't confident enough to just tell him. It didn't look like he liked his present much.

"Maybe this was really meant for Sirius," he muttered under his breath turning again towards the mirror. Y/n couldn't help but scoff at this, at his non-existent self-esteem.

"Is it so absurd for you to think that someone might find you beautiful?" She asked him, maybe more snappy than she ought to be, but it did manage to catch Remus' attention and the wheels in his mind to spin.

"You're my secret Santa, arent' you?" He asked and even though there wasn't really the need for her to confirm she still nodded, hiding her blushing cheeks by turning her head.

"I'm sorry though, I knew it was a bit risky of a present but I thought it was cute."

"It is, it really is," he insisted when she shot him a doubtful look, "it's very thoughtful. I just- I just didn't know you thought that way about me."

"Honestly Remus, you're the only one who's clueless about your worth."

"Do you really think so?"

"I've just compared you to the sun, do you really need to ask that?"

"Sorry, it's just that it feels like a dream." Not knowing what to say, Y/n chose not to speak but that only fueled Remus more.

"My crush comparing me to the biggest star honestly feels like a dream," he added making y/n's head snap to him

"What?"

"If I'm the sun, does that mean that you're the moon?" he asked leaning closer to her

"But the sun and the moon never meet." She complained, her eyes on his lips.

"I'll just have to catch, won't I?" he murmured now practically on her lips

"I reckon that won't be a problem." And that was the last words they exchanged before their lips met.

[august-bleeds-red]

Carnival Lights

(Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader)

Bo makes a stranger’s ride on the Ferris wheel more than an average trip to the carnival.

WARNINGS: Non-con, forced orgasm (NSFW below the line).

~

It was your first blind date since you were sixteen. The guy was twenty-three and already a junior partner in a prestigious law firm, and dull as paint. But, even discounting his handsome face and impeccable manners, your mom would never forgive you if you messed up on the first date. He’d opted out of riding the wheel with you, confessing a fear of heights that prevented him scaling anything higher than a stepladder, and had stepped away to pick up snacks for when you descended.

 The Ferris wheel had always been your favourite ride as a kid, back when your dad used to take you to the carnival, and you really wanted at least one ride before the night ended – for old time’s sake. You didn’t care if it made you look weird to ride alone.

 The wheel is an old-fashioned one with round, metal-roofed cars, with seats sitting opposite each other. Thankfully, it doesn’t tilt too far with just your weight to balance it.

 “Just you?” the attendant asks. You nod.

 He’s just about to close the door and secure it when someone speaks up:

 “Excuse me, y’all mind if I ride with you?”

 He’s a handsome, dark-haired man in his thirties, with a lazy Louisiana drawl, dressed comfortably in work pants and a navy button-down shirt, an old red-and-white trucker cap sticking out of his back pocket. His face is friendly, eyebrows raised in hope as he awaits your response.

 “Oh . . . I, uh . . .”

 You’re not sure your date would appreciate you sitting in such a confined space with a strange guy you just met, but the attendant is looking at you impatiently, so you panic and shrug in consent. The guy smiles and takes the seat opposite you, the car bouncing a little at the change in weight. His legs are long, his knees almost brushing yours, but he keeps his hands at a respectable distance in his lap. The attendant fastens the door shut and the car trundles a few feet along to allow the next passengers. You know it’s gonna take a while – they need to fill up every car before setting the wheel to spin freely. Which means you’re sitting with this guy for at least the next ten minutes.

 “Name’s Bo,” he says, holding out a hand to you.

 “Um . . . Y/N,” you reply, accepting the handshake politely. His hand is big, his palm warm against yours.

 “Figured we might as well get acquainted if we’re stuck in this tuna can together,” he reasons.

 “Yeah,” you grin nervously, not wanting to point out that you’re only “stuck” because it was his idea to join you.

 “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m a creature of impulse – my ma used to take me and my brothers on this wheel when we were little kids, an’ I saw you sittin’ alone and, I dunno, you just looked like a nice girl, so I took a shot.”

 “No, it – it’s okay,” your smile grows more genuine. “My dad used to take me on this wheel too, every time the carnival came into town.”

 He smiles, his eyes fixed on your face. He has an intense, dark stare, his brown eyes barely blinking. “So you here by yourself?”

 “No, my date’s around here somewhere.”

 “Well, that’s a little weird,” Bo says. “Leavin’ you to ride alone?”

 “Heh, yeah,” you shrug. “Doesn’t like heights.”

 Bo snorts and mutters something that sounds like, “Pussy.” You can’t help but giggle.

 The car has now elevated far enough from the ground as to make disembarking impossible. You gaze down at the sprawling carnival lights, illuminating the stalls, food carts and rides in a soft, golden glow.

 You don’t speak up when Bo shifts in his seat, edging closer to you so your knees touch. The car is small – there’s no reason to make a fuss for what could just be an honest mistake. Until his fingertips brush against the crown of your kneecap.

 “Kinda irresponsible, really,” he says, his voice lowering. “Leavin’ a little lady as cute as you unaccompanied.”

 Would it be rude to ask him to stop talking? Or at least to move his hand? His fingers are definitely rubbing the inside of your knee now, his gaze hot in a way that proves he knows exactly what he’s doing.

 You’re just about to say something, when he ‘casually’ shifts in his seat, lifting his trouser leg high enough for you to see the handle of a knife tucked into his heavy boot. Your blood runs cold and you press your lips together. His hand slides further up your leg until his whole palm is resting on your thigh.

 “I know if it were me,” he purrs, “I wouldn’t let you outta my sight for a moment.”

 Your fingers are shaking, your skin beginning to prickle.

 “Please . . .” you whisper, your voice barely more than a breath.

 He grins. “Please what, princess?”

 “I . . .” you swallow around the lump rising in your throat. “Please don’t hurt me.”

 He laughs. “Then you’ll do what I say, won’t cha?”

 He eases the knife from his boot and pockets the guard protecting the blade, tracing the dull edge down the soft skin of your thigh. One false move, one flick of his wrist, and you’d be bleeding out all over the car floor. He leans across and uses the blade to dislodge the straps of your dress.

 “Let’s see them gorgeous tits,” he says. Reaching across, he pulls at your neckline, revealing the strapless bra you’re wearing underneath. “Oh, honey – d’you wear that just for me?” Slipping his fingers inside the blue lace cup, he releases one of your breasts and squeezes roughly. You whimper, clapping a hand over your mouth when the knife twitches in his hand.

 “Look at these pretty little nipples,” he flicks his thumb over one, smiling when it hardens at his touch. “Why, they’re already pleased to see me, aren’t they?”

 Cursing your treacherous body, you shut your eyes and wince as he scoops your other breast free, jiggling the soft flesh.

 “God damn, these puppies look sweet enough to eat,” he moans, leaning in and lapping at one nipple with his tongue. You cringe away from him, gasping when he takes a firm grip on the back of your head.

 “Now,” he murmurs, “you’re gonna come sit on my lap, right? We’re gonna have a little fun. Easy, nice and slow – don’t wanna draw too much attention now, do we?

 Hating your own cowardice, you shift from your seat and turn, letting Bo settle you against his clothed erection. You can feel it through the fabric, digging into your ass. The car stays at an inconspicuous angle, the cars below, above or opposite you none the wiser as to what’s going on.

 Bo keeps one hand on your breast, squeezing and pinching, the other strays further downwards. The knife is stowed away back into his boot, but you already know better than to make a grab for it.

 “Let’s see just how much of a good girl y’really are,” he whispers in your ear, teeth biting at the side of your neck. A shiver runs through you, and you can tell he feels it by the way his lips curl against your skin. The tips of his fingers brush your panties and you close your eyes in shame at how damp they are. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, and the way he’s sucking and teething at your skin is only making it worse. Nudging aside the silky fabric, you gasp when his thick, calloused fingers trace the outline of your pussy.

 “Ahh, there we go,” he shifts a little, spreading your thighs further apart with his knees. “Just look how wet y’are for me. You’re just a little slut, ain’t cha?”

 His fingers push past your folds, rubbing at your clit and making your legs tremble. He slips in up to the first knuckles of his index and middle fingers, his thumb circling your clit with a practiced movement.

 “Y’like the way my fingers feel in you, you little whore?” he growls in your ear. “Fuck, you’re soakin’ wet. Bet you wish you could take my hard fuckin’ cock in that sweet little cunt, huh? Ride me ‘til I fill you up with cum, you dirty fuckin’ slut.”

 He forces another finger inside you, tilting his wrist to allow them to sink in right to the hilt. You stretch around his digits, your slick walls inviting him in further. Why is this happening? Why are you so turned on? Your heart flutters in the cage of your chest and you bite your lip to keep from moaning.

 “Thaaaat’s it,” Bo croons, quickening pace. “You love it, don’t you, you little whore? You love havin’ my fingers all up in your cunt.”

 You shake your head and the hand molesting your breast takes a firm hold of your jaw. He turns your head to face him and your lips are assaulted – his tongue staining your mouth with the faint taste of tobacco. Your pussy is liquid in his hands, the warm whispers of pleasure building steadily in your lower stomach.

 “You’re gonna fuckin’ cum for me,” he growls. “Y’hear that, bitch? You’re gonna cum on my fingers like a slut. C’mon, gimme that goddamn cunt. Show how much you love bein’ fingered like a cheap whore.”

 Bitch. Slut. Whore. The poisonous words hang in the air around you.

 “Tell me you wanna cum,” he demands. “Beg me to make you cum.”

 “I— I can’t . . .” you whimper. You don’t think you could live with yourself if you stooped to that level of indignity. Then he stops and the sky comes crashing down around your ears. “F-fuck—!”

 “Tell me what I wanna hear, baby.” He moves his fingers again at a brutal pace, the friction against both your clit and G-spot almost too much to bear. It’s growing, reaching such a pitch as to make your ears ring.

 “Fuck, please . . .” you screw your eyes shut against what you feel is the judgment of the world. “Please . . . make me cum—”

 “Say my name, bitch,” he growls. “Tell me who this fuckin’ cunt belongs to.”

 “Bo! Y-you . . . my . . . it belongs to you . . . oh God, Bo, please, please—”

 At the last moment, as you feel your walls contracting, he shoves two fingers in your mouth, grunting with satisfaction as you bite down to prevent yourself crying out from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever experienced. He chuckles darkly in your ear, his fingers making an obscenely wet sound as they withdraw from you.

 He allows you to reassemble yourself before the wheel has completed its final loop. You run a hand through your tangled hair and wipe away the smears of mascara beneath your eyes, while he sucks the shining fluid from his fingers with apparent relish. The last few drops, however, he spares for you. You gag around the fingers he forces into your mouth, tasting the tangy flavour of your own juices.

 When the attendant lets you out, Bo gestures for you to go first, like the Southern gentleman one might presume him to be at first glance. You can see your date waiting for you, a stick of cotton candy in one hand. As you reach him, he watches Bo leave the car behind you.

 “Who was that?” he asks, handing you the pink cloud of spun sugar.

 “No-one,” you shrug as casually as you can manage. You could tell him, now you’re free from the cage. But you don’t. And you never will.

 Grinning like a cat in a dairy barn, Bo secures his cap atop his head. Catching your eye one last time, he winks, nods, and disappears into the crowd.   

~

Inspired by a soundgasm piece by @gentlemanswitch.

[batfoonery]

Crafty Batkids

Literally. Just batkids doin' crafts. As someone who does..... way too many crafts to list here (I'll send a list if asked but just trust me) I feel like I've gotten a good feel for this.

Dick

My man grew up in a circus, regularly checking ropes and tensions....

Macrame. He's a pro at macrame. Maybe he doesn't do it often, but like. For his friends, he'll sometimes surprise them with lil gifts.

When any of his Titans buds move he makes them those fancy hanging macrame plant holders. Donna and Kori both love them, and have been known to fight over them during white elephant/dirty Santa type gift games.

Probably doesn't have the ability to sit still for long periods of time, so can't do anything that'll unravel if he puts it down. It takes him a long time to finish a project, so he really only buys materials as he starts a new one, and doesn't have any excess stuff lying around his apartment.

Jason

You cannot tell me he doesn't crochet to unwind. Like. Idk if he's any good at it, but he def angry crochets.

Probably has been working on one scarf for like five years

Never has consistent stitches

Likes touching all the yarns at the store

Probably just enjoys squishing the yarn in general tbh. It's slightly more satisfying than ever actually doing anything with the yarn.

Cass

One time Bruce took her to like. Silver Dollar City or somewhere else that had someone with a loom, and she was fascinated. She made him buy her a shawl and then made Tim put together a power point about why she should have a loom.

Bruce ended up caving and buying her one that's skinnier, for like table runners. It's great, because she's mostly fascinated with making gradients in her weaves.

She learned Swedish Weaving (it's a like an embroidery/weaving hybrid) so she could embellish her works.

Mostly gives them out as gifts. She gave one to Selina, who guards it possessively. Harley tried to borrow it once and about lost her fingers.

Probably also learned to make little tassles for the ends

Tim

Attention to detail? Obsession over the minutia? Oh. You know my boy is an epoxy resin artist.

Has a crafting station in his room that's meticulously organized. There's cubbies for pigments, flowers, glitters, bits of ribbons and strings, etc etc

Probably makes all kinds of thing tbh. Phone cases, trinkets, you name it. But pens are his favorites, because they're both simple and practical. There's like a whole army of pens that just... keeps growing in Titans Tower because he always forgets where he's put his.

None of his teammates realize he is the source of the pens. They (Kon, Cassie, Bart) just think the pens are an infestations and/or are pairing up and making baby pens. But Cassie and Bart love them bc ✨aesthetics✨

Probably has a tik tok or an insta where he posts videos of himself de-molding things to soothing lofi tracks. Literally just. All the vibes. It's gorgeous.

Steph

Also all the vibes. She is a bujo/stationary queen.

Her collection is much messier than Tim's, but has a surprising amount of overlap. Sometimes they borrow things from each other, and have collabed on their social accounts (he makes journal covers, she makes them into notebooks, he supplies her with pens, she uses them when making a weekly/monthly set up, etc)

Stickers and glitter everywhere

Probably sponsored.

Canonically draws cute little cartoons in the comics, they absolutely are a regular on her socials and in her bujos.

Duke

For some reason I don't peg him as being as craft-oriented as his closest-in-age sibs? He probably has less expensive coping mechanisms tbh

That being said I can see he would enjoy those stores where you go in and paint pottery and they kiln/glaze it for you? Like he isn't into sculpting it himself, but painting the little kitchenware pieces or statuettes is relaxing.

He paints mugs for all his sibs on their birthdays, and for Alfred.

Alfred probably has a whole army of custom mugs made for him by the kids, now that I'm thinking about it. Like half of them are from Duke, because he doesn't know what else to do with them. There are just so many because it's so simple.....

Kate Kane, Tatsu Yamashiro, and Jeff Pierce also all have mugs. Actually... Lowkey highkey I can see that Tatsu might have introduced Duke to this kind of stuff in the first place? I can see that she would enjoy something simple that you can do while trying to clear out your mind.

Damian

Well. Damian is a gifted artist, but this translates differently into actual crafts. It just does.

He's probably a good printmaker. Not only does this take advantage of his art skills and keen attention to details, but it's one of the oldest artforms still in practice today. Most printmakers develop their techniques by perfecting one of several forms of the art, which have been passed through generations, and have a really firm grip on art history. Those stories would appeal to Damian, in addition to the craft itself.

Damian is the most likely of his siblings to be able to sit still for prolonged periods of time and do a repetitive motion. In fact, it may actually be something he can enjoy if it means he can just zone out for a bit. So, he's probably actually decent at spinning yarn. If the sky is grey and rainy, he drags out a wheel and some pre-sorted rolags and spins yarn, exclusively for Cass, who then weaves it. He enjoys the progression of colors in the fibers as much as she does, and they bond over it.

The feeling of different fibers slipping through his fingers is also really soothing. Bad day? Time to spin some merino, because it slips like water through his touch. Need to feel grounded? Time to spin a cotton blend, because you have to be present enough not to chafe your hands on the rough fibers...

Probably also really good at embroidery, for the same reasons. Plus, it's really satisfying to feel and hear the pbt-psht, pbt-psht of the needle and thread pulling through the taut fabric.

Bruce

Obviously knows how to forge/metalwork. I like to imagine he's also dabbled in lost wax casting.

Probably has little trinkets he made when he was younger scattered around the house. Maybe he donated a few to charity auctions.

Has made rings/jewelry pieces. But doesn't talk about them. (One ring went to Selina, and a pair of earrings went to Talia)

Alfred

The all-talented, all-knowing. There's probably nothing he can't do. He already sews all their outfits. So I mean.

Sometimes it feels really good to have something to stab. I'm not saying he does needle felting, but I'm not saying he wouldn't.

Probably was the one who taught Bruce about lost wax, and the one who helps Damian research about printmakers.

Silently supplies all the kids with all the art things.

Has a chest in his room filled with all the things that he's been gifted with over the years. There's little uneven macrame hanging from when Dick was just getting the hang of it, lumpy scarves that are too short for anyone to realistically wear from Jason, linen sets made by Cass, various trinkets from Tim, handmade cards and notebooks from Steph, mugs from Duke, and old embroidery pieces from Damian in unevenly stained hoops.

[gureishi]

I really love your writing! Could I request #2 for Saeyoung? Perhaps a hurt/comfort :)

Ohhhh, thank you so much!! That makes me really happy to hear ♡

And here is the fic! I think a lot about making Saeyoung go to sleep and honestly don’t know how I’ve never written this scenario before. Darling sleepy overworked boy.

two: fall into your arms again

SaeyoungXReader, T, words: 1764

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

You’re dreaming of driving when he calls you—it’s a recurring nightmare of yours, where you’re at the wheel and suddenly you realize the car has no brakes. The ringtone makes its way into your dream, and you’re panicking, you’re panicking—where is the phone, why can’t you stop the car?

You wake abruptly, eyes flying open in the way they sometimes do after a nightmare. The phone is still ringing. You scramble for it and find it tangled in the sheets.

You squint at the screen: it’s after three in the morning.

“H-hello?” You yawn as you answer, your head falling back against the pillow.

“Ohh…did I wake you up? I guess I lost track of time,” he laughs, but it sounds forced. You push yourself up a little in bed.

“Saeyoung, are you okay? Did something happen?” There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach. Things have just finally started to go well.

“No, no!” He’s too loud, too enthusiastic. “We’re okay! Saeran is asleep.”

“Saeyoung, it’s almost four in the morning.”

He yelps. “Really? I didn’t even notice! I’m sorry, babe. Ignore me and go back to sleep. Please.”

You sigh, sitting all the way up, propping the pillows behind your head. “Will you tell me what’s bothering you?”

“God Seven is bothered by nothing! God Seven was just doing some work and wanted to hear his kitty cat’s cute voice! Ha-hah!”

“Saeyoung…”

“Activate kitty communication mode! Meow! Meow? Meeooow!”

He’s too adorable—his distraction tactics are too good. Once upon a time, you would’ve given it to it, would’ve let him ramble nonsensically until he wore himself out. You know better now.

“Saeyoung, when was the last time you slept?”

You hear him counting to himself. “Twelve, thirteen, fourteen…twenty-six, twenty-seven…” Oh no. “Forty-four hours ago!” he sings triumphantly.

“Saeyoung!”

“Whaaat?”

“Forty-four hours ago was when I last spent the night. You haven’t slept since then?”

“Nooope. But it’s okaaaay! God Seven can work for much longer without sleeping because it’s what he was programmed to do!” He draws out his syllables, speaking in a sing-song.

“Hey. Stop. Listen to me.” You know he hears the frustration in your voice because he shuts up right away. “You do not work for the agency anymore. Even Saeran is sleeping right now, like a normal person. You do not need to work through the night anymore.”

“But I do,” he says. His voice sounds a little more subdued now. “The agency may be done, but there’s still so much cleanup work to do. There’s so many loose ends. If I’m resting, they’re tracking Saeran, tracking Vanderwood, tracking you… I can’t—”

“No,” you say. “Uh-uh.” You’re already slipping out of bed, groping around in the dark for some sweatpants. “I know there’s still work to do and I know you’re worried about keeping us safe. And you can do that work. After you’ve slept for eight hours.”

He laughs and it sounds almost like a sob. “I’ve just found him,” he says, so quietly you can barely hear him. “I’ve just got him back. If anything happens to him…”

“I know,” you say. “I know, babe. But none of that matters if you work yourself to death in the process.”

You’ve got pants, you’ve got shoes. You grab a jacket and the keys to the rental car Saeyoung insisted on paying for so you wouldn’t be reliant on him while he was holed up in his bunker with Saeran.

“Hah,” he says. “It would take a lot more than a few hours of work to kill me.”

You’re outside, the cool air bracing you, waking you the rest of the way up.

“I’d like you one hundred percent alive instead of just barely hanging on,” you tell him.

You throw open the car door with perhaps slightly too much force.

He hesitates. “What was…are you outside?”

“Yes. I’m coming over.”

“You—g-gah, what?!” He sounds frantic. You hear a crash—almost as if he’s sweeping something (realistically, a pile of junk food) off his desk.

“I’m coming over right now and putting you to bed. If you don’t want me to stay, I won’t, but you are going to sleep one way or another,” you say. You start the car and you know he hears it through the phone—you’re not playing around.

“I’m perfectly capable of—” he whines.

“Thirty minutes. Love you,” you say, and hang up before he can respond.

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

You get there in no time because the roads are empty. He’s cleverly disabled the car’s built-in GPS so that the rental company can never access any of the data, never pinpoint his address (not that his bunker actually has an address). It doesn’t matter: you know the way by heart.

You give the password that will let you into the garage, park, and peer into the retinal scanner by the door—he’s added this feature for you, only for you. The door welcomes you by name and swings open with a soft click.

The bunker feels bigger and emptier at night; it’s completely dark except for the tiny ray of light coming from his office door, which is cracked open just a hair. You sigh. You’d had hope—just a little—that knowing you were coming would guilt him into just going to bed already. But he is stubborn.

You pad across the huge living room and knock gently on his door. He knows you’re here, of course—he’s probably been watching you on the cameras ever since you pulled into the driveway. But just in case—he’s not someone you want to ever catch off guard.

“Hi,” he says softly—his voice sounds far away. You push open the door.

“Oh, Saeyoung…”

His office is never exactly tidy, but this is a disaster zone.

There are chip bags and other assorted wrappers strewn over the desk and on the floor around it. Several creepy, half-built robots lay at odd angles on the couch and floor, as if he’s been fiddling with them as he works and then tossing them aside—one blinks eerily at you with its single eye. There are clothes thrown over the couch and the backs of his various desk chairs, as though he’s been managing to periodically change outfits without ever setting foot in his bedroom.

And there he is, your precious, anxious, manic boy, sitting in his chair with his knees pulled up to his chest, hunched over his desk, fingers still moving over the keys even as he turns to look at you.

“You didn’t have to come,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“That’s a crappy greeting for your favorite person in the world who just drove here in the middle of the night,” you say, but you’re not not really angry at him—how could you be, when he’s in this state? You cross the room, stepping over the piles of junk. Up close, he looks terrible—there are dark circles under his eyes and he has that pale, hollow look he gets when he goes too long without seeing the sun.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Bright, wonderful people like you should be asleep at this time of night.”

“Everyone should be asleep at this time of night,” you tell him. You brush the messy, tangled hair off his forehead and kiss him on the cheek. He closes his eyes for a moment, humming contentedly; then he reaches for you, tilting his head up for a proper kiss. 

“Nuh-uh,” you say, and he deflates, pouting. “Find a stopping point—the first possible stopping point. Then you are going to bed.”

“Orrrrr…” he murmurs, nuzzling his head against your waist. One hand trails up your leg, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Saeyoung.”

“Fiiiine.” He reluctantly spins his chair around, types another line. “You go get in the bed,” he says, eyes on the screen. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Nope.” You cross your arms and sit on the couch, moving aside half of a robot dragon. “I don’t trust you.”

He makes a sound somewhere between a hiss and a groan and starts typing more quickly. Good. If he’s motivated to finish faster because you’re now losing sleep, then so be it. At least he’s stopping.

The sound of his typing soothes you. You fiddle with the little dragon—it will be very cute, once he builds the other side of its head. His typing slows. He hits a few more keys. You recognize the sounds of him finishing up—god knows how much collective time you’ve spent listening to him work.

“Okay,” he says at last, and you look up to see him getting out of his chair, a little clumsily.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

You skip to him and grab his hand. “Bedtime,” you say seriously, tugging him behind you: through the door, down the hall. He laughs, and it’s the most genuine he’s sounded all night. You throw open the door to his room and take a running leap onto the bed. He’s still laughing, watching you from the doorway with warm eyes.

“Come,” you say, wriggling yourself into the blankets, holding out your arms to him. Obediently, he shuts the door and comes to you, falling headfirst onto the messy pile of pillows and blankets and you. He groans quietly, his shoulder muscles finally relaxing. You pull him toward you and he settles his head onto your chest.

“S’feels nice,” he slurs, snuggling into you. You see how hard the exhaustion is hitting him now that he’s closed his eyes; you make a snug nest of blankets around him, tucking them up to his neck.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper. “You can rest now.”

“Mmmmmm but…” His words are hard to make out, his voice already thick with sleep. “But there are soooo many other things we could be doing…in this bed…”

He tries to lift an arm, vaguely brushing his fingertips over your neck. You giggle.

“Shhhh, love. Maybe in the morning,” you tell him. You kiss the top of his head, nuzzling your nose into his messy, sweet-smelling hair. He doesn’t respond. “Babe?”

His head is heavy on your chest. You feel his breath on your neck, slow and steady. You smile to yourself—he’s already asleep.

So you wrap your arms tightly around him and close your eyes, head propped on top of his. You are a mess of blankets and limbs and heartbeats and you feel impossibly, indescribably safe. “Goodnight, Saeyoung,” you whisper.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby. 

Day 7: Screw This.

Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  Day 7 of the threeway collab between myself @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @jennmurawski13​…and Ransom is getting no better11

Series Masterlist.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Yes.”

“Ok, let me rephrase that…”you shifted your weight a little “Are you sure you can do this?”

Ransom let out an annoyed snort through his nose and turned his eyes to look up at you. “Doll, how hard can it be?”

You really didn’t want to answer that question, as to anyone else with half a logical brain, following simple instructions on how to piece together a crib wouldn’t be so hard at all. But to Ransom, the mere fact that there were instructions to follow was kinda making you a little uneasy, as he had a problem with doing anything he was told to do at the best of times. Ransom’s brow furrowed as he clocked the look on your face and he rolled his eyes.

“You have so little faith in me.”

“Can you blame me?” you spluttered “You turned all the washing pink a few weeks back, then you almost poisoned everyone, not to mention the incident with the tire jack!”

“This is different.” He said confidently as he began to remove the outer packaging of the crib.

“Is it?”

“Yes, Y/N!” he groaned with an air of exasperation “Look, I know you have zero faith in me whatsoever, but what else is new?”

“Ran…” you started to protest, and he shrugged you away very matter-of-factly.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he deftly changed the subject and you sighed recognising your dismissal. In all fairness he was right, you were due to meet your friend for lunch in half an hour so…

“Okay, I’m going.” You padded into the room, over to where he was now knelt on the floor surrounded by various tools and pieces of the crib, and dropped a kiss to his forehead “I’ll see you later. Love you.”

Ransom turned his head towards you, his lips brushing yours softly, the annoyance he had displayed seconds ago completely forgotten. “Love you too. Both of you.”

With a smile you headed out of the room and bustled about grabbing your coat, scarf and purse. You stepped outside your home and as you made your way down the gravel drive to your new car, Ransom having finally put his foot down and purchased the Mercedes he’d been eying up for you, you glanced back up at the window of the room that was to be your baby boy’s nursery and pulled out your phone.

“Hey Daddy, it’s me. I was wondering if you would do me a favour…”

*****

Ransom would never have thought in a million years that he’d be doing this. Putting together a crib for his unborn son in the nursery that the pair of you had almost completed. Kids had most certainly not been on the agenda. Mind you, neither had marriage. But Y/N…well, she’d not only done the unthinkable and tamed him away from his play-boy days, she’d completely and utterly hooked him. And he wasn’t ever going to let her get away. So he’d bought a ring, they’d bought a house together…and then one drunken night and forgotten pill later wham, he’d knocked her up.

As such here he was, in one of the spare rooms that was no longer spare as it now belonged to his unborn child. The colour was picked, paint was purchased…but he drew the line at decorating. That was something that happily you had both agreed was to be done by a professional. In an hour he’d managed to get three sides of the crib together. And they were even and matched the photograph perfectly. But this fourth side…the side that was supposed to go up and down along a set of runners was not playing ball.

“Son of a bitch…” he cursed after what felt like the one hundredth attempt at getting the little wheels to line up “You’re gonna fucking work you fucking piece of…”

“Ransom?”

He paused as the familiar voice drifted up the large stairs and he gave an exasperated sigh. Of course she’d called her dad to check in on him.

“In the nursery.” He called back, a little gruffly. Ransom would never admit this, but the fact that his father-in-law actually cared enough to make the 30 minute drive over to check on him was kind of nice. His own father would have simply sniggered and put the phone down.

But then, Richard Drysdale was an asshole. Y/N’s father was not. And he most certainly was not going to allow his boy to become one either. Well, not a complete one anyway…he had to have some attitude after all, he was a Drysdale.

“Hey Son.” Ransom looked up as Y/N’s dad walked into the room. “Y/N called me before, said you were fixing up the furniture. I thought you might need a hand.”

“She really doesn’t trust me does she?” Ransom snorted and her dad laughed.

“If it’s any consolation, her mother is exactly the same.” He soothed as Ransom straightened up “And I don’t think it’s a case of not trusting you. When me and her brother put the crib together for his kid, it was a pain in the ass to get right.”

Ransom inhaled sharply, his hands falling to his hips “Done ok so far.” He replied a little sullenly.

“Yeah, I can see.” His father-in-law nodded “I just thought I’d check. If you don’t need me, then I can go.” He held his hands up, palms facing Ransom in a conciliatory manner “I got stuff to do so.”

Ransom watched him turn to leave and followed him out of the room with his eyes. He looked at the final piece of the crib before he gave a soft groan and quickly strode after his wife’s father.

“Actually…” he spoke, watching as he paused at the top of the stairs “I can’t get the last piece to line up right.”

He stopped short of actually asking for help, but he didn’t need to. Y/Father’s/Name turned and smiled, patting him gently on the shoulder as he strode back towards the nursery. He stooped to examine the sides and then stood up, pointing.

“This screw,” he said, and Ransom looked at it,“just needs tightening. The head is jutting out a little too far. Once it’s flush to the side then the runners should line up.”

Ransom blinked and then sighed, his head hanging dejectedly “Seriously? That’s it.”

“Hey!” His father-in-law chuckled, “easy thing to miss. Come on, get it screwed in and I’ll help you lift it. Then I think we can safely say a beer is in order.” He then checked his watch “Huh, might even catch the Red-Sox if we’re lucky.”

At that Ransom perked up a little. Another thing he would never admit was that he enjoyed the way her father would simply do stuff like that with him, things his own dad had never wanted to do. Sit, drink beer, watch a game…talk.

Fuck, he was going soft.

He picked up the screw driver and knelt down, angling it slightly so he could reach and lined the head up. He gave three sharp screws to the right but on the fourth the screwdriver slipped and he felt a sharp pain in his left hand.

“Fuck!” he yelled, drawing back instantly as he glanced down and saw the blood oozing from his palm tracing a path down his wrist.

“Here, let me see…” Y/Father’s/Name stepped forward quickly, reaching for Ransom’s arm. He frowned and then looked at Ransom who had gone pale. “Looks pretty deep.”

Ransom swallowed, taking a deep breath as his head began to spin. Fuck, he hated blood.

“Ransom? Son? You okay?”

“I err, I don’t feel…” he took another deep breath and then with a thud he hit the floor.

*****

Don’t Panic.

If there was ever a phrase do make you do just that, it was those simple two words. Which your dad had uttered when he had called you to tell you there had been an accident and he was on his way to the ER with Ransom. You and your friend abandoned the basket full of baby items you’d indulgently been about to purchase after a cheeky trip to the baby boutique one down from the restaurant you’d eaten in, and you’d rushed out of the store, making your way straight to the hospital. By the time you had located Ransom’s room, your dad was stood outside chatting to a nurse.

“What happened?” you demanded and your dad turned to look at you.

“His hand slipped when he was screwing a part of the crib together.” Your dad offered an explanation. “Gave me a scare though, completely out of it he was for a good 2 minutes or so.”

With a soft sigh, you rolled your eyes and pushed the door open. Ransom looked up at you from where he was sat on the bed, his hand heavily bandaged, face pale.

“Hey!” you said, making your way to his side. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “Just stabbed myself.”

“My dad said. What did you do that for?” you frowned.

“It wasn’t like I did it on purpose, sweetheart.” He drawled, narrowing his eyes. “It’s not a big deal. Just waiting for someone to take me down to X-Ray to make sure I’ve not damaged anything major”

You arched an eyebrow, a grin playing across your face. “Big enough of a deal to make you pass out from the pain.”

“It was nothing to do with the pain.” He mumbled sullenly. “You know I don’t like blood.”

You chuckled as you sat on the bed next to him, your hand gently pressing against his forehead. He felt a little clammy. “Yeah, you’re gonna be no use what-so-ever when I have the baby.”

“I don’t intend on being at that end.” He looked up at you, shrugging.

“No? You wanna be up there holding my hand, telling me how amazing I am?” you asked, your hand gently running up his neck.

“Maybe.” he replied, his head laying on your shoulder, seeking out comfort like the huge baby he was, his nose nuzzling into your neck.

“Gee thanks.” You replied with a scoff

“I just don’t wanna see you squeeze a baby out of your….you know.” he waved his non bandaged hand, as he moved his head to look at you, a cheeky smirk flickering across his face “I imagine it would be like watching my favourite bar burn down. Knowing that it’s completely wrecked and going to take a while before I can head back in for a drink.”

You blinked as his words registered and then slapped him harshly round the back of the head, causing him to yelp.

“Maybe instead of a fucking x-ray they can scan you for a brain.”  You glared at him. “Not that they’d find one.”

[wiypt-writes]

Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale

An Advent Calendar of 24 Normal Human Tasks As Performed By A Huge Man Baby. Day 7: Screw This.

 Warnings: Bad Language words

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N:  Day 7 of the threeway collab between myself @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @jennmurawski13 …and Ransom is getting no better11

Series Masterlist. 

 “Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Yes.”

“Ok, let me rephrase that…”you shifted your weight a little “Are you sure you can do this?”

Ransom let out an annoyed snort through his nose and turned his eyes to look up at you. “Doll, how hard can it be?”

You really didn’t want to answer that question, as to anyone else with half a logical brain, following simple instructions on how to piece together a crib wouldn’t be so hard at all. But to Ransom, the mere fact that there were instructions to follow was kinda making you a little uneasy, as he had a problem with doing anything he was told to do at the best of times. Ransom’s brow furrowed as he clocked the look on your face and he rolled his eyes.

“You have so little faith in me.”

“Can you blame me?” you spluttered “You turned all the washing pink a few weeks back, then you almost poisoned everyone, not to mention the incident with the tire jack!”

“This is different.” He said confidently as he began to remove the outer packaging of the crib.

“Is it?”

“Yes, Y/N!” he groaned with an air of exasperation “Look, I know you have zero faith in me whatsoever, but what else is new?”

“Ran…” you started to protest, and he shrugged you away very matter-of-factly.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” he deftly changed the subject and you sighed recognising your dismissal. In all fairness he was right, you were due to meet your friend for lunch in half an hour so…

“Okay, I’m going.” You padded into the room, over to where he was now knelt on the floor surrounded by various tools and pieces of the crib, and dropped a kiss to his forehead “I’ll see you later. Love you.” Ransom turned his head towards you, his lips brushing yours softly, the annoyance he had displayed seconds ago completely forgotten. “Love you too. Both of you.”

With a smile you headed out of the room and bustled about grabbing your coat, scarf and purse. You stepped outside your home and as you made your way down the gravel drive to your new car, Ransom having finally put his foot down and purchased the Mercedes he’d been eying of for you, you glanced back up at the window of the room that was to be your baby boy’s nursery and pulled out your phone.

“Hey Daddy, it’s me. I was wondering if you would do me a favour…”

***** Ransom would never have thought in a million years that he’d be doing this. Putting together a crib for his unborn son in the nursery that the pair of you had almost completed. Kids had most certainly not been on the agenda. Mind you, neither had marriage. But Y/N…well, she’d not only done the unthinkable and tamed him away from his play-boy days, she’d completely and utterly hooked him. And he wasn’t ever going to let her3 get away. So he’d bought a ring, they’d bought a house together…and then one drunken night and forgotten pill later wham, he’d knocked her up.

As such here he was, in one of the spare rooms that was no longer spare as it now belonged to his unborn child. The colour was picked, paint was purchased…but he drew the line at decorating. That was something that happily you had both agreed was to be done by a professional. In an hour he’d managed to get three sides of the crib together. And they were even and matched the photograph perfectly. But this fourth side…the side that was supposed to go up and down along a set of runners was not playing ball.

“Son of a bitch…” he cursed after what felt like the one hundredth attempt at getting the little wheels to line up “You’re gonna fucking work you fucking piece of…”

“Ransom?”

He paused as the familiar voice drifted up the large stairs and he gave an exasperated sigh. Of course she’d called her dad to check in on him.

“In the nursery.” He called back, a little gruffly. Ransom would never admit this, but the fact that his father-in-law actually cared enough to make the 30 minute drive over to check on him was kind of nice. His own father would have simply sniggered and put the phone down.

But then, Richard Drysdale was an asshole. Y/N’s father was not. And he most certainly was not going to allow his boy to become one either. Well, not a complete one anyway…he had to have some attitude after all, he was a Drysdale.

“Hey Son.” Ransom looked up as Y/N’s dad walked into the room. “Y/N called me before, said you were fixing up the furniture. I thought you might need a hand.”

“She really doesn’t trust me does she?” Ransom snorted and her dad laughed.

“If it’s any consolation, her mother is exactly the same.” He soothed as Ransom straightened up “And I don’t think it’s a case of not trusting you. When me and her brother put the crib together for his kid, it was a pain in the ass to get right.”

Ransom inhaled sharply, his hands falling to his hips “Done ok so far.” He replied a little sullenly.

“Yeah, I can see.” His father-in-law nodded “I just thought I’d check. If you don’t need me, then I can go.” He held his hands up, palms facing Ransom in a conciliatory manner “I got stuff to do so.”

Ransom watched him turn to leave and followed him out of the room with his eyes. He looked at the final piece of the crib before he gave a soft groan and quickly strode after his wife’s father.

“Actually…” he spoke, watching as he paused at the top of the stairs “I can’t get the last piece to line up right.”

He stopped short of actually asking for help, but he didn’t need to. Y/Father’s/Name turned and smiled, patting him gently on the shoulder as he strode back towards the nursery. He stooped to examine the sides and then stood up, pointing.

“This screw,” he said, and Ransom looked at it,“just needs tightening. The head is jutting out a little too far. Once it’s flush to the side then the runners should line up.”

Ransom blinked and then sighed, his head hanging dejectedly “Seriously? That’s it.”

“Hey!” His father-in-law chuckled, “easy thing to miss. Come on, get it screwed in and I’ll help you lift it. Then I think we can safely say a beer is in order.” He then checked his watch “Huh, might even catch the Red-Sox if we’re lucky.”

At that Ransom perked up a little. Another thing he would never admit was that he enjoyed the way her father would simply do stuff like that with him, things his own dad had never wanted to do. Sit, drink beer, watch a game…talk.

Fuck, he was going soft.

He picked up the screw driver and knelt down, angling it slightly so he could reach and lined the head up. He gave three sharp screws to the right but on the fourth the screwdriver slipped and he felt a sharp pain in his left hand.

“Fuck!” he yelled, drawing back instantly as he glanced down and saw the blood oozing from his palm tracing a path down his wrist.

“Here, let me see…” Y/Father’s/Name stepped forward quickly, reaching for Ransom’s arm. He frowned and then looked at Ransom who had gone pale. “Looks pretty deep.”

Ransom swallowed, taking a deep breath as his head began to spin. Fuck, he hated blood.

“Ransom? Son? You okay?”

“I err, I don’t feel…” he took another deep breath and then with a thud he hit the floor.

*****

Don’t Panic.

If there was ever a phrase do make you do just that, it was those simple two words. Which your dad had uttered when he had called you to tell you there had been an accident and he was on his way to the ER with Ransom. You and your friend abandoned the basket full of baby items you’d indulgently been about to purchase after a cheeky trip to the baby boutique one down from the restaurant you’d eaten in, and you’d rushed out of the store, making your way straight to the hospital. By the time you had located Ransom’s room, your dad was stood outside chatting to a nurse.

“What happened?” you demanded and your dad turned to look at you.

“His hand slipped when he was screwing a part of the crib together.” Your dad offered an explanation. “Gave me a scare though, completely out of it he was for a good 2 minutes or so.”

With a soft sigh, you rolled your eyes and pushed the door open. Ransom looked up at you from where he was sat on the bed, his hand heavily bandaged, face pale.

“Hey!” you said, making your way to his side. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, “Just stabbed myself.”

“My dad said. What did you do that for?” you frowned.

“It wasn’t like I did it on purpose, sweetheart.” He drawled, narrowing his eyes. “It’s not a big deal. Just waiting for someone to take me down to X-Ray to make sure I’ve not damaged anything major”

You arched an eyebrow, a grin playing across your face. “Big enough of a deal to make you pass out from the pain.”

“It was nothing to do with the pain.” He mumbled sullenly. “You know I don’t like blood.”

You chuckled as you sat on the bed next to him, your hand gently pressing against his forehead. He felt a little clammy. “Yeah, you’re gonna be no use what-so-ever when I have the baby.”

“I don’t intend on being at that end.” He looked up at you, shrugging.

“No? You wanna be up there holding my hand, telling me how amazing I am?” you asked, your hand gently running up his neck.

“Maybe.” he replied, his head laying on your shoulder, seeking out comfort like the huge baby he was, his nose nuzzling into your neck.

“Gee thanks.” You replied with a scoff

“I just don’t wanna see you squeeze a baby out of your….you know.” he waved his non bandaged hand, as he moved his head to look at you, a cheeky smirk flickering across his face “I imagine it would be like watching my favourite bar burn down. Knowing that it’s completely wrecked and going to take a while before I can head back in for a drink.”

You blinked as his words registered and then slapped him harshly round the back of the head, causing him to yelp.

“Maybe instead of a fucking x-ray they can scan you for a brain.”  You glared at him. “Not that they’d find one.”

[partialresonance]

Hi! You asked for Geraskier prompts. What about some fluff? Jaskier heard that Witchers can’t blush so he tries to make Geralt blush by complementing him ?

Yay, thank you for the prompt!! This was so much fun to write. :D

CW: mild innuendo, reference to beheading?? Otherwise it’s pretty tame. ~1.6k of fluff coming right up!

Jaskier is eighteen, and Geralt is quite the most interesting man he’s ever met.

Of course, he’s handsome too, which doesn’t hurt. But for the moment Jaskier is mostly concerned with the fact that he’s a witcher. Jaskier has heard countless rumors and tales about witchers but he never imagined he would have the chance to actually meet one. He can’t pass up the chance to confirm the truth of what he’s heard, straight from the source.

“Geralt, is it true that witchers can see through walls?”

Even though Jaskier has to jog to keep up with Roach and is only treated to a view of the man’s broad backside, he can hear the eye-roll in Geralt’s dry response:

“No.”

“Well that’s a shame. I imagine brothels would be quite interesting places if you could.” Jaskier’s lute bangs against the back of his thighs, and he hoists the strap higher on his shoulder. “Speaking of which, is it true that witchers have—ah, how to put this delicately—inhuman stamina?”

“I can outrun you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Geralt shrugs, and Jaskier puts his hands on his hips, his mouth twitching into a pout.

“You’re no fun at all, Witcher.”

What he won’t ask is if it’s true that witchers don’t have feelings. Jaskier had banished the idea as rubbish from the first, when he’d gone up to Geralt in that tavern in Posada and found him brooding. One cannot brood without feeling.

“Is it true that witchers can smell fear?”

At that, there is a telling pause.

“Yes.”

“Huh. That’s interesting. Can’t imagine how that’s useful though. I’ve always found it quite easy to tell when someone’s afraid, they go all bug-eyed and their hands start to shake and they stutter a lot.” 

“You’d be surprised.” Roach flicks her tail, narrowly missing Jaskier’s face. He dodges to the side, stumbling a bit on the dirt path. “Some people are good at hiding it.”

Jaskier shrugs, uninterested.

“Hmm, what else. What else,” he taps his chin, trying to dredge up the other rumors he’s heard.

“If you can’t think of anything else we could walk in silence,” Geralt says hopefully. Jaskier laughs, shaking his head. The very idea.

“Oh! I’ve got one.” He picks up his pace, jogging forward until he’s far enough ahead of Roach that he can turn and walk backwards, keeping ahead long enough to see Geralt’s expression. “Is it true that witchers can’t blush?”

“Where did you hear that one?” Geralt looks unimpressed. He flicks the reins and Roach springs into a trot; Jaskier has to leap to the side to avoid the devilish mare. Thankfully Geralt doesn’t seem intent on leaving him behind; after a few paces Roach slows to a walk again, though Jaskier is huffing by the time he finally catches up.

“Oh, you know,” Jaskier wheezes, clutching a stitch in his side. He waves a hand vaguely. “Around.”

He’d heard it in reference to the only place on a witcher’s body blood could rush to, but, well. Geralt doesn’t need to know that.

“Yes. It’s true.”

“Is it really?” Jaskier squints up at Geralt. He wishes he was a witcher who could sniff out lies. “You know it’s illegal to lie to a bard, don’t you?”

Geralt doesn’t answer, and now that Jaskier has run out of questions his mind seizes on a new game.

Make Geralt blush.

“Hey, Geralt!” Jaskier swings his lute around and plucks a few notes. “You ever heard the one about the fishmonger’s daughter?” And without further ado, he launches into the most downright filthy version he knows. It’s barely even innuendo, containing outright descriptions of exactly what the fishmonger’s daughter likes to do with her catch, even including a few dramatic moans and sighs on Jaskier’s part because he is nothing if not an excellent performer. He keeps a close eye on Geralt’s expression, but to his dismay all he sees is the gradual tightening of his jaw and flattening of his eyebrows. By the end of the song he looks downright murderous.

“I’m guessing you didn’t like that one. Heh.” Jaskier plucks a discordant note, underlining his failure to please the witcher with his song, as well as rouse even the faintest of pink tones to his pale skin. “Well, not everyone has a sense of humor. That’s alright.”

Damn it. What could he do to make a witcher blush?

After another mile or so Jaskier is forced to admit that the sex angle simply doesn’t affect the witcher. He’d tried everything--describing some of his own conquests, real and imagined, and he’d even faked a limp and sighed wistfully about his night with the innkeeper’s son! None of it has any effect on the man. And, with a cruel spike of embarrassment that brings heat to his own cheeks, Jaskier abruptly realizes it’s because the century-old witcher likely has seen and done things he can scarce imagine. 

It’s all old hat to him, then.

“Have it your way then, you big old brute.” Jaskier consoles himself by playing his favorite songs at the loudest possible volume, his voice echoing off the canyons. He thinks Geralt has mostly tuned him out, until abruptly he wheels Roach around and makes a sharp gesture at Jaskier. His yellow cat-eyes scan the surrounding hills.

“Shut up, bard.”

Jaskier scoffs, and strums a few loud chords.

“Well you could at least ask nicely if you’re--”

An arrow stabs into the ground, an inch from Jaskier’s foot. Jaskier jumps into the air with a yelp.

Bandits seem to pour down from the hills, and Geralt and Roach charge in to deal with them. Jaskier, weaponless and frightened, darts off of the path in the opposite direction, down a small gully to hide behind a bush.

Well, he hasn’t lived this long by sticking around for the danger! Someone has to live to tell the tale, after all.

It’s over faster than Jaskier would have imagined. He catches glimpses of Geralt moving smoothly through the fight, a whirlwind of steel and white hair. The big witcher actually looks graceful, spinning on one heel and swinging his arm in a broad arc to lop off the last bandit’s head. Jaskier swallows, feeling odd and sort of warm all over.

When he’s certain the bandits are dead he doesn’t hesitate to scramble up the hill to where Geralt is standing amidst the carnage, sheathing his sword.

“Do people do that a lot?” Jaskier tells himself his voice isn’t that shaky as he brushes off the knees of his trousers and hoists his lute onto his back. “Just attack you out of nowhere?”

“Hmm.” Geralt stands from where he’d been crouched over one of the corpses. He slips their purse into Roach’s saddlebags, then mounts her in a smooth motion.

Jaskier wrinkles his nose at the corpse. He doesn’t usually see death up close like this--his experience is more of the ‘passing by the suspicious lump in the alleyway without looking too closely’ variety. He’s frightened, but with Geralt at his side starts to feel a little bit brave. The bandit certainly isn’t scary like this, with his stupid head lying across the path. He sticks his tongue out at the corpse and then jogs after Geralt and Roach.

“Well, they should know better, shouldn’t they? I don’t think you even broke a sweat.”

“Hmm.”

“No, I mean it. That was genuinely impressive.”

“Shut up, bard, or you’ll draw more of them.” Geralt turns his head away, but not before Jaskier catches something interesting in his expression. He jogs forward, until he’s striding beside Roach and level with Geralt’s knee. If he looks out of the corner of his eye he can just barely make out Geralt’s face. A sly smile curls his lips.

“Do people ever compliment you? Or are they too busy shitting themselves because you’re a big, scary witcher?”

Geralt stares straight ahead. 

“That’s a shame, really. Compliments do wonders for the self-esteem. I can’t go long without one before I simply wither away like an autumn leaf. And there’s so much to compliment you on.”

“Fuck off.”

“Geralt, I’m being serious.” Alright, so maybe he was also teasing a bit, but Jaskier’s voice took on a strident, genuine note as he turned his head to gaze up at the witcher. “What you did back there might seem like nothing to you, but I was terrified. If they wanted to kill me they could have done so easily, except you were there so now they’re all lying in pieces while we make our merry way on. Take that, bandit, you don’t need your legs!” Jaskier laughs and makes a slicing motion as if severing an imaginary bandit’s torso from his lower appendages.

“It’s nice, not to have to be afraid of whatever random asshole comes my way. I think I’ll stick with you after all. It doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes as well.” Jaskier winks. Geralt keeps darting his eyes between Jaskier and the path ahead. He looks distinctly uncomfortable, but Jaskier doesn’t think it’s in a bad way at all. “Big witcher man with your nice hair and all that muscle beneath your armor. You looked like you were dancing, you know.”

“Jaskier…” It’s a low growl, a warning, and it sends a shiver straight down Jaskier’s spine. He bites his lower lip to keep from smiling too broadly, and that’s when he sees it:

The distinct, pale pink undertone blooming to life beneath Geralt’s glowing (beautiful) yellow eyes.

Oh. Jaskier is in trouble.

He clears his throat, taking a few steps to the side and letting Roach get a little bit ahead of him. He strums his lute, a spring in his step as he follows his witcher, imagining feeling the heat of Geralt’s blush beneath his fingertips.

[athys-obelia]

of swords and rubies

synopsis: on athanasia de alger obelia's eighteenth birthday, she sits in the ruby palace awaiting her father's present - a sweet little mandate sentencing her to death. the news his personal guard arrives with, though, is quite the different from what she expects.

character/s: athanasia de alger obelia, claude de alger obelia, felix robane

part: one / ?

warning/s: mentions of death / execution, poisoning, tlp!claude is a shit dad, tlp!felix supremacy

|•| ruby palace |•| 10:45 am |•|

"a visitor from the emperor's place, your highness."

lilian york's voice has always carried the same gentleness. for as long as she can remember, athanasia has heard softness, music, safety, in lily - the voice of a mother. the realisation, long overdue, hits her as she inquires after her mysterious guest. i've never addressed lily as such, have i?

the brunette tries for a smile. "it is his majesty's personal guard, princess, sir felix from the robane duchy. i have hannah showing him to the visitors' lounge - perhaps the knight comes bearing good news?"

the blonde princess smiles, nodding hopefully. it's all she can do for lily, she guesses, the woman who cared for her like one of her own. just as lily's smile never dimmed once during the past eighteen years, athanasia supposes she must now return the favour.

but lily never saw her father's eyes that night.

lily hadn't seen his stance harden at the mere sight of her.

the malice, the poison in claude de alger obelia's voice wasn't directed at lily.

so lily couldn't possibly know. for all athanasia knows claude could be in his study, spinning a roulette wheel to decide how to have her executed. he'd want her gone by the earliest, she assumes, probably before jennette can wake and intercede for her - or evidence is found towards the actual culprit.

either way, if the least she could do was comfort lily somewhat with a little, hopeful smile, then the smile would be priority.

|•| ruby palace |•| 11:00 am |•|

  "sir," athanasia greets, recoiling as the knight grins at her. she'd heard stories of the atmosphere in the imperial palace, the deceptive, snake-like nature of noble court - surely, with a father so prominent in both politics and obelia's military, felix robane was one to be vary of.

and - being her father's personal guard would require being similarly ruthless and cunning, would it not? this smiley knight could always be the one poisoning her father against her behind their backs.

  "to what do i owe this pleasure?"

the redhead attempts lightening the mood with another bright grin. "greetings to the star of the obelian empire. may the gods' blessings be with you, princess. today, i have come as a messenger regarding his majesty's wish that you join him for breakfast-"

  "-wh, what? no, i... i'm not going anywhere with you."

felix robane's natural smile falls. "what is it, princess?"

athanasia steps backwards in defense as the knight tries comforting her, a trembling hand raised to cover her mouth. "y-you can tell his majesty i won't...won't be joining him."

  "but, princess-"

not daring to move her eyes from the redhead, athanasia reaches for an hourglass resting on the mantle beside her, holding it up in defense. "go back. go and tell the emperor to send me the death warrant himself. there's no need to build such a roundabout way of-"

felix grimaces. "you may be misunderstanding the situation, prin-"

  "-don't 'princess' me. if he has the guts, have my father tell me his decision himself. you can't force me to leave. i won't, i won't be led out of my home with you pretending as if everything is fine."

the knight holds up his hands in surrender. "you have the higher status of the two of us, your highness, i wouldn't dare pushing you into anything you do not like. i'm afraid you cannot refute the emperor's word, however. but...but if your highness has questions, i can promise to answer with complete honesty."

  "how can i trust you?"

felix taps his chin in thought. "as a knight, my value is measured not by my skill, but the trust put in me by those i am pledged to. my oath is to the obelian emperor. you, princess, are his majesty's heir, so as along as your commands do not undermine the emperor's, you are included in the oath."

athanasia blinks, studying the knight. he seems to be curling into himself so as to not be percieved as a threat. she watches his careful movements, irate. "i read a book once..." she starts, feeling self conscious all of sudden. do i sound like a madwoman?

felix robane nods eagerly. "i was told the princess was an avid reader."

she flushes, glaring at her lap. "...anyway, in the book, the king's sister married a traitor, and because they were technically royalty, he couldn't just kill them under charges of treason. so instead, the king had their food poisoned."

athanasia watches the subtext register on the knight's face. "your highness...no, i- his majesty has no such thing planned. i can assure you - the matter is actually quite the opposite."

  "...is it?"

he stares at his lap before looking up at her determinedly. "i can't say i know how your highness feels about your father, but...he needs you right now." felix sighs softly, "as you know, her highness the princess jennette hasn't yet regained consciousness. this makes you his majesty's most favourable heir."

athanasia stares at the hourglass in her hand before setting it down. interest piqued, she eyes the fidgeting knight. "why would you bring this up, sir robane, and to me of all people? is the emperor perhaps...ill?"

the look in the redhead's eyes is more than enough confirmation. athanasia grips the arm of her seat. "he has been having the strangest migraines ever since...well, a little after your debut, actually. except lately, these headaches seem to be weakening him. quite a lot."

a cold sweat creeping up her neck, athanasia downs a glass of water before turning to the distressed knight. "i assume you want my assistance in hiding this from the nobles. since jennette isn't here."

  "essentially, yes." he nods once more. "with all the commotion surrounding princess jennette, both the nobles and commoners are watching the palace diligently. the factions are too divided - of course, a large portion of the nobles support princess jennette as your father's heir, most of them being blood purists, while an equally large believe you are more competent, having been raised in the palace. regrettably, it isn't just the nobles - we have a delegation arriving at the palace soon enough to settle matters regarding the southern territory. we cannot afford weakening his majesty's image, not right now."

her eyes flicker to the obelian coat of arms on felix's shoulder, and the sigil of house robane embroidered on his cloak. "i don't suppose i have much of choice in the matter - but since urgency of the situation affects my country, i doubt i would've refused anyway. but, sir felix..." she pauses, studying his expression, "my father's palace doesn't garuntee my safety. so i must call on your oath as a knight now."

  "of course, your highness." hesitantly, as if he held a china doll in his hands, felix murmurs, "it can be a chance to get closer to his majesty, too. er - that is, if only your highness wishes it to be."

nodding, athanasia stares at her hands. "...perhaps."

|•| emperor's palace |•| 3:00 pm |•|

with her father's stare scrutinising her every move, she bows deeply in greeting.

his gaze is different, athanasia notices. the malice is gone. the hatred has dissipated.

now, as if she were a complicated math problem, claude de alger obelia stares her down, a spark of challenge alight in his eyes. "don't worry your head too much about it," he starts, "i haven't called you here for any special reason."

"...i see."

he tilts his head curiously, studying her reactions still. "oh? what's this? no declarations of love today? no pleading for attention? you're strangely quiet for someone so full of demands."

she fidgets with her dress, a deep red blooming on her cheeks in embarrassment. "i apologise if my words troubled your majesty."

claude nods slowly, eyes tracing her unkempt hair. "you overestimate yourself, princess."

athanasia inhales sharply. what does he want?

"felix's method of conveying information is a bit... exaggerated, at times," the blonde emperor says, watching her grimace under his stare, "i'm here to clear up any misunderstandings he may have unknowingly planted."

"ye, yes?"

claude's hand lands on his sheathed sword. athanasia blood freezes as he pulls it out, slowly, eyes not moving from hers. "i'm assuming you've been told of the council being held tomorrow. it will be your unofficial entrance into politics, so i hope there won't be any...mistakes. you'll need the nobility's support."

she nearly snorts. you wouldn't hesitate in burying anyone who dared look jennette in the eyes, i'm sure. still, athanasia tries smiling - lily always smiled whenever she was unsure of what to say, after all - and lets go of her skirt, nodding. "there won't be any."

the last time she spoke to her father, she'd known that whether or not he decided on mercy, she wouldn't be talking to him again. thus the courage to empty her heart, lighten her shoulders. now... now, athanasia didn't know what to think. how to act.

she flinches when he speaks, hands tracing the edge of the blade lightly. "do think this sword is important to me, athanasia?"

an odd warmth courses through her at the sound of her name. or was it because of the voice, the owner of the voice? she honestly couldn't tell. "your majesty..." athanasia swallows - what's the right answer? - "i would assume so. i'm no knight, of course...but, a sword is effective for both defense and offense in battle. and i hear your majesty's swordsmanship is unrivaled in obelia, so...yes, i think."

she watches claude draw in a long breath, staring at the weapon. "it's interesting that you think so. but at the end of the day, the sword is just another weapon, isn't it? i can always have better ones at the flick of my wrist."

"your...majesty?"

a drop of blood runs down the emperor's finger as he runs it along the edge of the blade. "it is useful, isn't it? at least...as long as i decide it is. a simple tool's value will always be decided by me, after all."

cold dread settles into athanasia's bones. "i...i see, sire."

nodding approvingly, claude de alger obelia places the beautiful sword in her hands. "happy birthday, princess."

[apenapaperandadoofus]

Can you make a list on who you think is the most to least reliable of the RFA (+ Minor Trio if you want!) when it comes to pets 👀

gasp you know what yes (I've been wanting to make some lists for a while -maybe least to most bottom of each of the RFA characters LMAO-)

MysMe characters least to most reliable with a pet and what pet would they have:

11. Rika

LMFAO bet ya didn't expect that did ya!? Nah you probably did, anyway the reason why she's the least reliable for a pet it's kinda obvious, first of all, she would refuse to get her pet treatment when it almost turns blind and ma'am? Please help your dog???

Also if at any time the pet dies she would start another cult so let's not risk it with her. Instead of an animal maybe give her a rock instead pfttt (actually wait-no she'd probably throw it at our poor mint coloured hair boy just give her a dog plushy it smth she can't be trusted with alive things)

10. Saeyoung

You may be asking me, Amanda, why, Saeyoung absolutely loves cats he'd be a cool cat dad, and yes, you're right. But you also don't understand that this man's love for cats goes SO far that he will actually cause chaos all around him. He'd give the cat SO many treats, not only that, but he'd also cuddle them, and that's nice tight? Wrong. This man will try to stretch the cat, grab it and twirl it around, reenact the lion king and do the 'Simba' bit and everything. Not only that he'd completely use it to prank Zen and everyone else, overall, he'd be a great pet owner but it'd be too much chaos so let's just stick with loving cats from afar.

Also I feel like he'd get a snake for some reason, and he'd dress them up in like a fancy bowtie a hat, or an iguana or chameleon y'know? He'd go for the amphibian type :o

9. Ray

I love our boy, I really do, but honestly how do you expect him to take care of a dog if he can't take care of himself. 😢

Actually scratch that, if he had a dog he would definitely love it and spoil it, and we live for that but also:

honey focus on yourself too we don't want you to D I E

Maybe give him a hamster or smth, while he's hacking away and watching MC in their room the hamster will be spinning on it's wheel super happy

Or he can have some cute fishes 🐟🐠

And like his brother, because great minds think alike, maybe a chameleon. He'd be pretty scared of them at first but he found one under some flowers and decided to rescue it, and now he sort of ended up adopting it :D

Although I find it pretty unlikely that he'll get a pet, he's more into flowers anyway

(OH WAIT WHAT ABOUT BEES? YA LIKE JAZZ -im sorry pft but now I need to see Ray in like those bee farmer dress things lmao)

8. Zen

I could see him as the pet owner that takes their dogs on walks and such, but honestly, if he's allergic to cats he's probably allergic to other animals too, at least some with a lot of hair! Although I feel like he'd get one of those big dogs and he'd go on runs with it all the time. The dog would be like the ones that are mostly thought of as super dangerous or aggressive but it turns out they're a sweetheart. Either that or a poodle 🐩💀 (but like I said, he's probably allergic to animals with lots of hair.)

HOW ABOUT A PARROT? ZEN COULD TOTALLY PRACTICE HIS LINES AND SONGS WITH THE PARROT AJDNFBFB

7. Jihyun

Jihyun would be pretty good as a pet owner but honestly he'd be super nervous at everything at first. Welcome to the Jihyun apologizing to his pet show akdjdn. But would we trust him with a pet? He wasn't really able to take care of two teenage boys -although it was mostly because he was in a toxic relationship 💀

When he has his sight problems he could totally get those helper dogs? (Forgot what they're called I'm sorry T_T)

He'd probably get a more chill pet tho, maybe a cat (he probably likes them a lot too! Also they're pretty calming.) So he could have like the guide dog and a small kitty too!

6. Jaehee

She'd be an awesome pet mom lol. I don't think she'd get a cat after being traumatized from pet-sitting Elizabeth. Maybe she could get like a turtle 🐢

Or maybe a rat to reenact Ratatouille lmaoo

She wouldn't get big pets unless the MC wanted to adopt something (and if they're a couple, we all know what people who want kids but can't or just aren't able to adopt at the moment, do, they get DOGS AND CATS!!!)

So honestly she'd start understanding why Jumin pampers Elly so much, since your dogs basically your child now PFTTT

Maybe a bunny too? I could see her working with the bunny on her head lmao and that's adorable

Omg imagine her with a SNAKE, HOW BADASS WOULD THAT BE???

5. Suit Saeran

You may be wondering once again, WHAT AND WHY

Let me explain.

Suit would dffinetly get those scary and big dogs that have spiky collars and everything, and he'd probably call him something like Killer or Skull Destroyer, or maybe Blade lmao

And we all know he'd die for his dog. It's the only one he can trust ajdhdbdbd

He'd be like the bad boys that walk around with their dog everywhere growling at people (not just the dog, the two of them)

And "Spike" would be so well taken care of. Believers have to start doing draws to see who feeds the monster dog that always bites them PFTTT

The dog would also dffinetly know how to fight. It'd be cute if the only person he likes appart from Saeran tho is MC hehe

AND you cannot change my mind in this, ever since Saeran got "Dark Knight" (I'm experimenting with the dog names pfft) he's shown him a picture of Saeyoung and taught him to absolutely hate his guts, so Seven, buddy, maybe don't get to close to them lol

AND the backstory for this dog is that Saeran found him under some bushes, hurt, and the dog reminded him of when he was younger, so he took him in and that's how the doggie came to be :3

3. GE Saeran

Idk, he'd also get the normal-ish animals, like a bunny or a cat (he'd like how calming they are.)

He'd be awesome with animals too!

Also uhm, someone please draw him as a farmer AJDHDHD lmaoo that's the first thing that came to mind 😂

He'd be the person that likes animals but like....other people's animals? He'd love to see Elizabeth and such, but he wouldn't really want to have one (unless MC wanted to of course.) It's not that he doesn't like them, it's mostly because he feels more comfortable with other people's pets ajdjdbd

Also he doesn't want them to ruin the garden oop

3. In a tie with Saeran, Yoosung

I forgot about him and didn't want to change the numbers lmao

Yoosung is a vet, c'mon he knows how to deal with animals!

At first he'd be so freaking nervous and would be just like a helicopter parent, making sure the doggie is alright and such, but then he gets the hang of it and he's perfect.

We all know we got a bunny with him too in his GE :D so maybe a dog and a bunny! He'd have more than one pet I'll tell ya that.

2. Jumin

Listen he's the king alright? He pampers his cat SO much, and you can just TELL how much he loves Elly. We all stan a man that loves animals.

He'd probably get some exotic pets too, maybe a few horses and birds that are really exotic or something

But can you imagine him with like....a tiger PFT

He'd be like: omg this is a cat but bigger let me have one

It'd be like Sebastian from Black Butler lol

He'd also be up to a dog, it'd take a bit of convincing but if MC wants one then he'd snap his fingers and get them one immediately (I love this man he's so ADORABLE) and then they'd have two children and Zen wouldn't have to worry about just Elizabeth

1. Vanderwood

Yes! The one! The only!

He's the only one appart from Jaehee that has more than one braincell PFTTTTT

He'd have a pretty big and scary dog that would've an absolute sweetheart when you get to know them. Everyone at first is scared but the dog just wants to sleep and eat, that's all.

Vanderwood is super responsible, I mean after Saeyoung I'm sure a dog would be nothing. He'd also compare Seven to his dog lol "Not even Capitan America is that dirty!"

"you named your dog Capitan America...?"

"shut the hell up or I'm tasing you."

His dog would spend all day sleeping. Sometimes Vanderwood will take him on walks, and they really enjoy that time together.

Vanderwood romance route? Uh, no he's far too in love with his dog to be doing anything else PFT

And you cannot once again change my mind on this:

He talks to his dog when he's alone.

He will tell him about his day as he cooks or does the laundry. He'd be in an apron making some dinner and be all like:

"Ugh, today I had to take care of that no-good for nothing guy again. It's incredible how messy his house can get in just a matter of hours! Not only that, he wasn't eating properly again, that idiot. I had to practically drag him out of his chair and make him eat some food. Not that I'm worried. It'd just be a hassle to have to find another hacker as good as him. Seriously that guy...."

And the dog would be like excuse me do I look like your therapist please just give me food lolol

[xnchxntmxnt]

𝐼 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑁𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑒

𝐵𝑜𝑘𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝐾𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑜 𝑋 𝐺𝑁!𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

So we spin the wheel of HQ misfortune (yes, I actually have an app with all the characters I feel comfortable writing rn and spin it when I’m out of ideas) (yes it works this is how you guys get your content) and I decided Y’know what. I’m gonna make my friend happy so I made @sugasfanfics a wheel and bam it landed on Bokuto so here you go bro love u hope you like this

This is half self-indulgent half for u Em lol sorry

Remember not only are your problems valid but the way you deal with them is, too (as long as it’s not hurting yourself or anyone else, please don’t do that—). Even if it’s a fictional boy you love, remember that someone always cares about you. I promise.

Kinda half edited lol bad grammar & spelling mistakes.

CW//light swearing

Word Count: 876

Reader Info: GN!Reader, fukurodani third year student

Ao3 link

Masterlist

You’d been on edge the entire day. Who knew how it started, you just felt like hell the whole day and everything got on your nerves. Whether it was kids in class or the volleyball that collided with your shoulder while you were trying to do homework, everything seemed to want to set you off today. 

“Dammit,” you curse under your breath, rubbing your shoulder. You hit the ball back to one of the boys, who gladly picked it up with a quick “sorry!” and ran back on the court. 

You were at Bokuto’s practice—the two of you were supposed to hang out afterward, but really, you were ready to go home and sleep for several hours. You felt bad canceling, though, so just tried to keep your cool long enough to get through the rest of your evening. 

Soon enough, they broke for water and Bokuto came running over to you with a smile on his face. “(Y/N), baby, did you see that AWESOME spike? Didn't I look cool? Akaashi said I look cool!”

“I just said it was good, Bokuto.” Akaashi walked past, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Eh, same difference.” He shrugged. “Did ya see it, (Y/N)?”

 “Yeah, it was great, Bokuto.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw his proud drop to a pout. You could have sworn his hair started drooping too. Rarely did you ever call him by his full name—when you did, it usually meant you were mad at him for something. 

He sat down next to you, his lower lip sticking out like a child’s. “Baby, did I...do something?” he asked, running his hand through his hair. 

“You’re fine,” you sigh. “It’s just...been a long day, alright? Not your fault.”

He nodded solemnly, offering his hand for yours. When you gave it to him, he kissed each of your knuckles, “let me make it up to you when we get to my place, okay? Parents aren’t home tonight, we can cuddle and watch a movie, yeah?”

“Alright,” you reply as he kissed your hand again. “Quit worrying about me and go be my big, strong Ace of Fukurodani, hm?”

Bokuto grinned and nodded. He took a sip of water before running back onto the court, leaving you alone with your thoughts again. 

The walk home was less enthusiastic than usual, almost like Bokuto didn’t know what to say. You let him talk as much as he wanted, but he stayed quiet for the most part, watching you intently as you walked. 

The two of you walked into his house and took off your shoes. Bokuto offered some food, but you declined, your irritation from earlier sinking into melancholia. 

“Alright, what’s wrong?” he asked, setting his school bag down. You opened your mouth to protest—he had homework to do—but he interrupted. “Homework can wait. I’m worried about you, sweetheart. Wanna talk?”

He held your shoulders, checking your face for any sign of what was wrong. He was still more droopy than normal—not his usual excited, eccentric self—and you could tell by his worried expression. 

“There isn’t much to say,” you sigh, putting your hand over one of his. “Just...long day, I guess. Burnt out.”

“Do you want a hug?”

“I wouldn’t complain about one.”

He pulled you in close, dropping his arms to wrap around your waist. You laid your forehead on his shoulder, content to stay like that for a long time. 

Just as you’d gotten comfy, he started moving, inching you backward until your legs hit the edge of his mattress. He pulled away long enough to crawl in and drag you with him. You laid your head on his chest, feeling his thumb draw shapes into your side. 

“What’s really on your mind, love?” he asked, kissing the top of your head. “I get worried when you don’t talk to me. So please do.”

“There’s not even anything specifically right now, I just...I feel like hell. For no reason. I didn’t wanna tell you because I didn’t want you worrying—“

You stopped as he tilted his head up towards you. The look he gave you made you freeze, unsure what else to say. He traced your features, smiling in encouragement. “I am always going to worry about you. That’s my job. I’m your forever-caring, amazing, loving boyfriend and I’m always going to care for you. I want you to talk to me when you feel like hell, even if it’s because you want to scream into oblivion for a while. If that’s the case, I’ll scream with you. Alright?”

“Alright,” you mumble, burying your face in his chest again. “I’ll keep it in mind. Do you want to just...I dunno, lay here? Just for now?”

“I would want nothing more.”

He kissed your head again, the small circles he drew on your arm soothing your cluttered mind. You knew you needed to talk one day—even if it was just the recent stuff without getting into in-depth character analysis of yourself—but for the time being, you knew you had someone there to help you face whatever demons you needed to. Because he always would be. 

Your precious, forever-caring, amazing, loving boyfriend, Bokuto Kotaro.

Alright you guys are welcome to scroll through this part just a little rant/apology from me

My brain has not been doing so hot lately so I can’t guarantee a constant posting schedule. I tried posting like 1-2 times a week but this is the first full thing I’ve written in several weeks and I’m sorry about that. It’s like 1:30 am when I’m writing this so this is probably gonna be jumbled up a lot but just. 

Brain hates me and I hate brain rn and it says I have No Motivation to do Anything. Only reason I got this out was bc of @sugasfanfics which she doesn’t even know I wrote this till I post it lol

Also this was supposed to be for her but like I said it kinda turned into I’m depressed and need comfort so. Yeah. Bokuto. 

I hope you guys enjoyed & I’m sorry about not writing as much as I should be. Thank you for bearing with me and for all the reblogs I can’t tell you how happy they make me. 

Sending love to you all <3

~𝑆𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑟