#just nice to have some backups :3

[faerymercy]

hiya friends just pointing out im also on pillowfort and mastodon if any of you are also on there 🫶

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ SAFEGUARD — dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

summary . . . they save you after you've been injured and captured by an enemy.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader (chuuya & dazai) and gn!reader (akutagawa), violence / blood, threats, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, established relationship, and it's pmboss!dazai bc i can't help myself — 3.5k total

notes . . . i got this request so long ago lol. not my best work, but i have been in the worst writing slump ever and just wanted to finish something. i've also never written for akutagawa before so pls be nice <3

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

there are very few times that chuuya feels he’s been outsmarted. he knows he’s not the mastermind of the port mafia, but he certainly isn’t a fool. when it comes to you and your well-being, though, his mind short-circuits, half of his intelligence draining away while his emotions take hold. 

your relationship isn’t a secret to anyone in the port mafia, which means that it isn’t a secret to your enemies either. and while most people know it’s hard to land a finger on chuuya directly, his pretty little girlfriend doesn’t have the power of a god nestled inside of her.

the rage sparks through him, growing fiercely into the blaze of a forest fire, until all he can think of is getting you home safely. he thinks of your sweet smile as he rips the door of the enemies’ base off the hinges, crushing it into a million pieces with the force of gravity. 

the men are quick to react, but chuuya hurtles the crushed door towards them, knocking three of them to their feet. another group charges at him, but their guns do little against his skill. after years of fighting some of the strongest ability users, simple criminal organizations are as easy to step over like ants. 

chuuya kills them all — except for one.

the man’s knees are wobbling, hand shaking around the gun as he realizes that these will be his final moments. there is fear in his eyes, brown ones that rest wide open, and chuuya almost hesitates. his remorse doesn’t last long, though, before he’s wrapping a hand around the man’s throat, thrusting him backwards. 

“where is she?” chuuya asks, voice sharp and commanding. 

he can feel the man swallowing. 

chuuya knows that backup is probably on the way, but it won’t matter whether they show up or not. he’ll crush the rest of his enemies just as he’s crushed the last twenty men. the poor soul in his leather hold seems to know that as well. 

“i-i’ll take you to her,” he rasps, dropping his gun to claw at chuuya’s hand. 

he drops him, lets him take a few heaving breaths and coughs, before he’s kicking at him, forcing him back to his feet.

the young man takes him up the elevator, weaves him through a hallway as chuuya leaves a scattering of bodies in his wake, not hesitating to kill a single man that gets in his way. there is nothing that can keep him from you. 

how fiercely and loyally he loves you — it drives him to near insanity. 

finally, with blood coating his face and his clothes, the young man enters a room, locked with a code, revealing you. 

chuuya’s rage is almost as blinding as his corruption, as he gazes at the sight of you. bloodied and bruised, tied up in a chair, so visibly harmed. his hands clench into fists. “get the fuck away from her,” he says to the man who seems to be monitoring you.

“what are you doing in here?” the men left in the room panic, but they don’t have time to react before chuuya throws them back at the wall, so quickly, with so much force, that their spines snap. they hit it with a sharp crack, skulls shattering against the plaster, the wall crushing beneath the weight of them. 

limply, they fall to the floor. 

chuuya rushes over to you. 

the young man that led him here disappears, but chuuya isn’t worried about him. he’s a coward; he’ll likely flee from the country and never look back. the men that truly hurt you are already dead, and he’ll burn this building to the ground once he’s gotten you away from it. 

“hey,” chuuya says, cradling your cheeks gently, trying to coax you back awake. he’s not sure if it’s exhaustion, blood loss, or the obvious head trauma that caused you to pass out in the first place. but you’re still breathing, so he counts that as a blessing. 

“hey,” he whispers again, kissing your forehead, like it will heal all your ailments. “wake up, baby. we gotta get you out of here, okay?” 

it takes you a few seconds to come to, eyes glazed over and shell-shocked as you blink at him. “chuuya?” you say; your voice is so hoarse it makes chuuya want to keel over and vomit. “is it really you?” 

guilt gnaws at him, almost crushing, at the fact that thirty-six hours passed, and you’re delirious enough not to recognize him. you probably haven’t eaten, either. 

he should’ve been there. no one should’ve ever had the chance to hurt you, yet…

“it’s me, i’m here,” he says, kissing your lips, your temple, brushing your hair away from your face. the strands are sticky with blood. “shit,” chuuya nearly shouts, pulling a knife from his pocket, sawing through the thick ropes around you as quickly as he can. “i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry.” 

he can’t get you free fast enough, and you smile at him, drowsy, your eyes fluttering shut once more. “it’s okay, chuuya,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder. “you’re here now.” 

“you have to stay awake,” he says desperately, realizing your head is still bleeding. he doesn’t know how hurt you are. chuuya’s no expert when it comes to medicine, but he’s smart enough to know that internal injuries could be even worse than the external ones. 

“stay awake for me, okay, honey? i’ll get you back to the boss and we’ll find you a doctor. you’ll be just fine.” 

“okay, chuuya,” you hum, weakly gripping his back. seconds of silence pass before you mutter, “i just want to go home.” 

"i know." his heart pulls, and he almost lets out a cracked sob. but he refrains, knowing that there is plenty of time to drown in his sorrows later. 

finally, he gets the ropes under, lifting you from the chair. you’re so much lighter, weaker, and it makes him sick as he carries you. “let’s get you home.” 

𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀. . .

the call comes just as akutagawa is getting ready to head home for the evening, his tasks completed, eyes heavy with exhaustion. 

normally, he doesn’t stick around to say any goodbyes, sneaking off into the darkness of the night like a shadow, blending right in. but, something about the evening, so gloomy and drizzly with spring rain, feels off. 

with a heavy knot in his chest, so much different than an incoming fit of coughs, akutagawa heads back up to mori’s office, if perhaps to only ensure that everyone else’s jobs had been completed. he’s a lot of things, but he’s never been a slacker; and he’ll do what it takes to ensure that his position in the mafia is eternally secure.

though, he doesn’t have the opportunity to get all the way upstairs before he run into the boss, who is calm, but with an air of irritation clouding him. 

he explains the current situation to akutagawa in a clipped tone, bored — an enemy group has kidnapped you, holding you hostage. 

“how rude is it to bother a man, just as he is getting ready to go to sleep?” mori says, sighing histrionically.

but what is a minor inconvenience to mori sends an entire wave of dread through akutagawa, his entire body feeling as if it’s been dipped in ice. he can’t explain the horror that washes over him, not really, because he shouldn’t feel so panicked. it is rare for him to get worked up about the danger his subordinates find themselves in, save for his sister, of course. 

but you… you’re different. 

“can i trust you to diffuse the situation?” mori asks, impatiently glancing at his watch as if that will change anything. “i can call someone else, but they will not be so quick.” 

akutagawa doesn’t even think before he accepts the job, hating the way he sounds pathetically desperate for more details. his hands flatten the edge of his cloak, as if his ability is going to take on a mind of its own. 

he calls for a driver, calm but breathing so heavily that an aching cough rises up in him. his throat feels as if it may begin to bleed, but he swallows, glances away from the driver and gets himself under control.

there’s a ransom — bring them the money and they’ll return you, mori had told him. you’re only a lower ranking member of the mafia, and someone that makes for a pretty poor bargaining chip, so the motive is questionable. 

mori probably would’ve let you die, akutagawa knows, his teeth gritting together, so much so that a splintering sound comes from it. but the boss, in his infinite, concerning wisdom, seems to also know that his loyal dog has an soft spot for you. 

as regrettable as that may be.

akutagawa has no doubt that whoever the enemy is, they are no match for him. still, a twinge of anxiety settles in his stomach, fingers jittery as the driver, despite the decreased traffic of the hour, seems to drive impossibly slow. 

“are we not in a rush?” akutagawa snaps, leaning forward.

“apologies,” the driver, says, not daring to even look at akutagawa from the mirror. but the car speeds up, enough for akutagawa to be able to notice, at least. it cools the simmer that has already begun deep in his chest.  

even so, the car seems to go at a snails pace, minute upon minute flying by, with you in the clutches of an enemy. 

akutagawa doesn’t care who they are. he doesn’t care why, or how they captured you. he wants them dead. he’ll rip them apart, easily, and he’ll make them suffer — they’ll be alive for all of it, for every second that he peels the skin from their bones, ripping the smaller ones out of their sockets. 

what he feels for you… well, it’s too hard for him to admit to himself. he has no experience with what it means to care for another person, doesn’t even know if that’s his goal. he just knows he wants to protect you.

and he can’t do that if you’re dead.

finally, the car pulls up to an old warehouse, one at the very outskirts of the port, beyond the docks and the shipping carts. it’s tucked far back, an obvious lair for some villainous organization that doesn’t want to be found. 

akutagawa gets there, but there is nothing. he hears nothing, feels no signs of life as he trudges through the puddles left behind from the earlier rain. 

a small string of panic begins again, as he wondered if maybe the call that mori had told him was only a ruse. maybe this entire time had been a distraction, a way to lure him away. there are other skill-users in the mafia, but none quite as dangerous as him. 

though, he hears it, then. a small little sound, muffled and hoarse, full of pain. 

he ducks into another corner of a warehouse, and you’re there — bound with chains and a gag across your mouth, one of your eyes blackened with bruises, your nose bleeding. 

his heart aches. never in his life has he so quickly made his way over, used the sharp edges of his ability to shear through the chains, falling to his knees as he unbinds the cloth from your lips. 

“where are they?” he rasps, mouth opening and closing, hating the sound of his own voice. he recognizes his desperation, his anger, but the affectionate sound that clips at the end is unfamiliar, as he shakily pulls himself closer to you. 

you glance up at him, eyes glossy and wide, and though you are scared, hurt, he’s so thankful you are alive. his heart flips once, as you grasp at his cloak, the material that has the blood of so many staining the threads. 

“gone,” you say, throat chalky, words nothing more than a note against the wind. “they fled when they heard it was you coming.” 

“and left you?” he asks, jaw clenching, as he hopes that the emotions aren’t as visible on his features as he thinks they are. “were you not a ransom?” 

“no,” you swallow, hard, as if in pain. he notices bruises around your neck, the shape of fingerprints indented there. “i was bait.”

anger rises up in him like a wave, engulfing him, wholly and relentlessly. he is no stranger to that, like he is the kindness you show him, the way you look at him as if he is your protector, rather than a bringer of destruction. “i’ll go after them. where are they headed? they’ll pay, i’ll slaughter—”

“ryunosuke,” you say, reaching for him as he stands, expression pleading as he backs away. “stay.” 

he has half a mind to ignore you — the enemy escaped, after all. but your voice. your eyes… you look so small sitting there, bloodied and bruised and broken. 

“please,” you try again, near tears, and though he has never been good with obvious displays of emotion, something within him snaps at the desperation in the word. 

he nods, slowing his pace as he returns to you, lets you wrap yourself in him, cling to him. his hands fall, naturally, to your waist, somehow knowing where they belong, even if akutagawa never has a clue what he’s doing with you. 

“i’ll call hirotsu,” he says simply, before pulling out his phone, not bothering to untangle himself from you. 

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

dazai is not a forgiving man, and will never learn to be. forgiveness is not a luxury he is often able to indulge in in his line of work, and his heart has hardened enough that until the end of time, those that are branded his enemies will remain his enemies. 

though, in his blackened heart, one soured over the course of time, you have carved out your own little space, lit it up with golden rays of light that are fiery enough to melt the stone casing of his chest. 

his only love — his only weakness. but it is a weakness that his enemies know about as well. 

dazai tries his best to keep you safe. he always has, and he knows that, sometimes, his grasp on you can be a little too tight. that the way he tries to keep you under his watchful eye can sometimes be stifling, frustrating. 

but he can’t always be there to protect you. and it is in times like these, that he regrets letting you go without a bodyguard. he regrets that he listened to your insistence that you could keep yourself safe. 

he should’ve at least told you to take a friend. 

“boss,” his subordinate says, bowing his head, his voice pleading, desperate. “i’m so sorry. your wife—”

“if anything… anything happens to her, you will be the one responsible, do you understand?” dazai says, his eyes cold as he glowers down at the man, only a few inches shorter than him, but feeling so much smaller. “i will personally see that this act does not go unpunished.” 

“of course, sir,” the man says, and he, at the very least, has the decency to sound resigned. to accept his fate and suffer the consequences, for allowing the boss’s wife to get herself into such a situation. 

and dazai means it, every last word; if he finds you in a state closer to death, anyone who put you in harm’s way will be torn apart from the inside out. he isn’t able to think of anything but bringing you home safely, his hands shaking with rage as he sends more than enough people out on a search to find you. 

with all the strings he’s able to pull as the mafia boss, it doesn’t take long to find you, for those that have bravely — or stupidly — used his wife as bait to come forward, and offer an attempt at some sort of negotiation. 

there’s little of the conversation that dazai remembers on the phone, even less that he remembers after that. the anger bubbles up in him and grabs hold of his conscience, the emotion directing his movements with a mind of its own. 

he’s already sent out every last one of his people into the field, ensuring that the organization that had the gall to threaten you is wiped off the face of the earth. deleted from every corner of the world, buildings flattened to the ground. by tomorrow, they won’t have ever existed. 

today, he doesn’t care what happens as long as he finds you alive. 

you’re held hostage by two men — so completely beaten that they’ve given up on any restraints. whatever they wanted from you, you seemed to refused to have given up, lip bleeding, eyes swelling so badly that you can’t even open them. 

dazai doesn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger on the first man, then turning to the other, shooting the hand that holds the pistol. the man recoils, shouts, and drops the weapon completely, as dazai lands another bullet to his knee, causing him to fall. 

slowly, dazai walks up, firing again to his other arm, a loud snap echoing throughout the room. the man winces, trying to crawl to the gun, one last desperate attempt to stay alive. 

he kicks the gun away, watching, as, pathetically, the expression in the enemy’s face changes — any of his remaining hope vanishes. 

“you told me she was unharmed,” dazai says, bending down, his coat flaring out behind him as he squats. 

the man coughs, gasping for air as the blood seeps out of him. “we lied.” he smiles cruelly, and though he shares the same sort of darkness as those in the port mafia, there is something even more twisted in his smile. 

dazai hums. “you the leader?” 

the man doesn’t give an answer, but the slight twitch of surprise on his face is all dazai needs. he’s no one — just a grunt whose life was put on the line to guard you. 

“didn’t think so.” dazai shoots him once, straight through the forehead, instantly killing him. but he is vindictive, angry, and the man he truly wants to destroy, the one who took you, is nowhere to be found. another bullet lands, tearing apart the flesh of his temple, then another, and one more, his skull beginning to cave in from the force of it all. 

dazai heaves, letting the gun clatter to the ground as it runs out of bullets, and then he realizes, all this time, you’ve just been watching him. the ugliest side of him — the worst side of him. 

you’re no stranger to it, of course. how can you be, when you’ve shared a life with him for years? but that doesn’t mean he wants you to see it, see how bloodthirsty he can become. 

he stumbles over to you, where you’re still sitting on the ground, your wrist in your lap, bent at an angle that he knows isn’t right. bruises are littered across your skin, and your hair is matted from the blood that pools at your temple. 

it takes every ounce of restraint he has to stay calm, a million feelings swirling under his skin. ones that he was never familiar with until he met you. 

“i’m sorry,” he says, taking your face in his hands so, so softly, worried that he’ll hurt you even more. “i’m sorry, darling. i should’ve — i should’ve been there.” dazai notices his hands are shaking and he balls them up into fists, leaning back. “fuck. fuck — i’ll kill them all, just tell me who it was. anyone who laid a finger on you. i’ll cut them down one by one.” 

“osamu,” you say, and your voice is raspy, cracking, as your unbroken arm reaches for him, squeezing his shaking hand. “i—”

you open your mouth to continue, but only tears come streaming down your cheeks, over your bloodied lips, saltiness soaking your jawline. no words don’t leave you, but a soft sob chokes itself up your throat.

“hey, hey, hey.” dazai’s voice softens, every muscle in his body relaxing as he draws you nearer to him, into his chest with a touch that’s barely there. “you’re safe. i’m here, okay? they’re not going to hurt you again, sweetheart.” 

you sniffle, barely making a sound, but he can feel the tears drop onto his clothes, soaking the material.

“can you walk? are you hurt anywhere else?” 

you hesitate for a moment before answering; he’s not sure if there’s a reason you only answer the first question. “i can walk.” 

dazai nods, and though the rage is still bubbling there, underneath the surface, there is a coolant streaming through him at the vision of you alive. the men who did this will pay the price, but he still has you — and that’s all that matters.

thank you for reading !!! ❤︎

[angelicdanvers]

BRACELETS | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: y/n finds herself a friend to celebrate her special day with. takes place before the lightning thief. luke & y/n are the same age. wc: 1.9k key: n/n = nickname

taglist: @repostingmyfavs @rinisfruity14 @soobin-chois | pm or comment to be added <3

a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate!! this goes out to all my loves who just wish for one person to embrace them and spread happiness <3

sixteen.

it was finally y/n’s sixteenth birthday, and once again, not a single person to celebrate with. being a child of demeter was sweet, everyone was kind all around, but y/n simply couldn’t find her people.

she got along with everyone, no one had anything against her. sure, older kids would pick on her from time to time, but that was an automatic agreement she signed when joining camp two years ago.

she just couldn’t develop as strong of a bond with anyone. she’d sometimes fall asleep with silent tears, wondering if she was broken or missing something key. if everyone was nice, why couldn’t she trust? form a relation?

the night wielded a nice breeze, wafting through y/n’s locks as she sat by the strawberry fields, playing with the leaves. a slight glow emitted from her fingertips as she trailed them along the soil, a small smile on her lips. 

glancing towards the amphitheater, she could see those her age dancing and singing, having the time of their lives. the younger kids had dispersed due to curfew, she noted. 

they all seemed to be in glee.

snapping her eyes shut, she fought back the intrusive thoughts and inhaled a sharp breath. opening her eyes, y/n grabbed some of the soil, stacking it into three layers. grabbing a strawberry, she delicately placed it atop and pulled away to admire her makeshift cake.

“happy birthday, n/n — happy sweet sixteenth,” she said loud enough just for her to hear. looking up at the glimmering stars, y/n decided to make a wish.

all i wish for is belonging. true belonging.

y/n went back to her cake, grabbing the strawberry and picking herself up from the ground. dusting herself off, she took her water bottle and gently rinsed the strawberry. placing it between her teeth and softly biting into it, she savoured the taste as she walked down towards the amphitheater and then the cabins.

she felt stupid for not wearing a proper jacket or shirt, but she did enjoy the fresh air leaving a chill to her skin. y/n was hoping her black tee would blend her into the night, especially as she neared the amphitheater. she wasn’t entirely keen on interacting more at the moment — it was past twelve and she knew she couldn’t match their energy.

“hey, y/n?”

the girl halted in her tracks. turning on her heel, she came face to face with none other than the loveable hermes boy lightly jogging up to her.

“hi luke,” she greeted, passing him a small smile. 

luke smiled back immediately. after a silent beat, he spoke again. “i just wanted to say, ha —“

“hey, luke! get over here, man, we need your backup vocals right now!” one of the hermes kids yelled, y/n couldn’t tell who from their distance.

“yeah, give me a sec!” he screamed, turning back to the girl.

“no dude, we need you RIGHT NOW! we’re gonna be mashed potatoes if you don’t!”

luke rolled his eyes, positioning himself back towards the theatre. “can’t you see i’m busy?”

“you can talk to anyone about anything whenever, luke! this is a one time exclusive!”

“stop quoting missy elliot, and no, give me two minutes!” he replied, a slight whine in his voice.

a scoff followed, “we’re gonna be eliminated, castellan!”

exasperated by bickering with his brothers, luke sighed and nodded. “i’ll be right there!” 

the boy instantly spun back around, wanting to wish the demeter girl a happy birthday.

she was at least 30 feet ahead of him, speed walking away with a slight slump to her shoulders.

luke’s smile dropped. another day, another day of being unable to fully attend to her. these countless moments have occurred more than he could fathom — he was always pulled away from the one girl he didn’t want to be pulled away from.

and yet here she was, disappearing out of his sight once again. “this karaoke better be worth it,” he grumbled under his breath as he trudged back.

the next morning was calm, not many campers up to anything special. there was a soft pitter patter on the window panes, but y/n didn’t mind. the rain rejuvenated her.

throwing on her raincoat but paying no mind to her shorts or shoes, y/n left the cabin with her stash of bracelet material in her pocket and sprinted through the paths, heading to chiron and mr. d.

luke’s attention immediately perked up at the bolting girl, and he realized this might just be the one time he can say anything.

subtly running after her, he watched as she entered the big house and rather excitedly. he followed inside, keeping a distance when he heard her begin to speak to chiron.

he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he did hear it all.

“may i call my dad?”

“of course, y/n. here,” luke could hear the shuffle of a phone, and footsteps coming closer to the edge of chiron’s office. 

the dial tone was evident. it went through three times before he heard the young girl speak.

“hey dad. hope you’re doing good. should've known you weren't gonna pick up. i turned sixteen today, fyi. hope your kids are doing fine and same with that blonde bimbo,” she spat, making luke’s eyes widen. “i’m not coming home for christmas. might be early to determine but i’m sure i won’t. bye.”

she walked back to chiron, and luke could hear light sniffles coming from her. his heart sank. 

“for all it matters, i’m here, we all are. happy birthday, y/n. you’ve always made us proud, you’ve always been an asset to us, you deserve to know that no matter what,” chiron reassured, and luke could hear the girl softly thank him.

stepping outside of chiron’s office and shutting the door behind her, y/n broke into a sob in the hallway. it was one thing to have others not be around, but when family abandons, nothing feels real anymore. 

luke observed as she stopped her tears almost as quick as they started, wiping her eyes as she headed towards him, unbeknownst to her.

“uh,” luke cleared his throat, “hey, y/n.”

y/n’s face warmed up, startled at his presence. hurriedly fixing herself up, she nodded. “hi luke.”

“i’m sorry for last night,” he apologized, scratching the nape of his neck. “i was trying to talk to you but i guess i got carried away with everyone else,” he paused, looking down, “as usual. i’m sorry.”

y/n shook her head. “it’s okay. don’t apologize, life happens.”

“right,” luke acknowledged awkwardly. “speaking of life,” he approached her in a friendly manner, “i wanted to wish you a happy birthday last night. you’re sixteen, one of the biggest milestones in anyone’s life!”

his enthusiasm made the corners of y/n’s lips tug up, and she watched intently as he continued. “you deserve an amazing birthday, and i’m going to give that to you.”

y/n was not expecting that.

“c’mon, let’s go.” luke held his hand out to her, his dark curls practically bouncing in excitement. a sweet grin crept onto her face, making the young boy smile even wider. she accepted his hand, and the second he felt her palm within his, the fragility made him realize he could never be a part of something that’d hurt her ever again.

she was stronger than anyone he knew, enduring all the shit the world put upon her. he just knew he couldn’t be one of them to do the same. 

together, the two gracefully left the big house, trampling down to camp and rushing towards god knows where.

somehow, they ended up at the pavilions, and without a second thought, y/n pulled out her bracelet material. luke was confused but watched eagerly as she carefully took the little sacks out.

“wanna make some friendship bracelets?”

“friendship bracelets?” luke asked, unsure of the concept.

y/n nodded. “today’s the day someone willingly decided to hang out with me. i was going to make some alone but if you want, we can create matching ones and mark our friendship.”

luke grinned toothily, “so we’re friends now?”

y/n nodded, “i’d love to be, if you don’t mind.”

his eyes screamed happiness, “i definitely don’t mind.”

the two taped down their threads, choosing colours that work cohesively with one another’s. “now you’re gonna wanna take this thread and do a tuck-knot with it,” y/n explained, showing the boy to her left the steps.

after getting the basics down, the two fell into a comfortable silence, threading away and adding some cute hand-made clay beads here and there. “i’m not too childish for wanting to do this, right?” y/n suddenly asked, a nervous smile on her face.

luke shook his head and gave her a hearty grin. “i don’t think there should ever be such thing as “too childish”, sucks the life out of everyone,” he looked back down at the bracelet, “plus, when you’re a demigod, what else is there to do? play video games? we’d be dead in minutes.”

y/n laughed. luke froze.

he’d never heard her laugh this much. she sounded pretty.

“you’re not wrong,” she slowly caught her breathing and softly chuckled. “are you close to finishing your’s?”

the hermes boy nodded and watched intently as y/n’s delicate fingers tutored him on how to securely tie the ends of the bracelet. watching her move so effortlessly made his heart skip a beat — she was perfect.

even though this was the smallest activity they could ever do, she was perfect at it. it made him wonder why he didn’t seize the opportunity to be her friend beforehand.

“hey, y/n?”

“yes, luke?”

“i just wanted to say,” his breath lightly hitched when she began placing the bracelet on his wrist to make sure it was of right measurement, “that, uh, you’re really pretty.”

now it was y/n’s turn to freeze.

“but, i’m not doing all of this to just be your boyfriend or whatever. hell, we’ve just begun our friendship,” he stifled a small, sweet laugh, “so when i say this i really just mean it from the bottom of my heart. i don’t want it to influence you in any way, i just want you to know how i’ve seen you for the past two years.

“you’re gentle and loving, not to mention stealthy and incredibly intelligent. i love whenever i look over and you’re always doing something that captivates me. i’ve been an idiot to admire you from afar for this long, but you’ve always deserved to know and be appreciated. i’m sorry i couldn’t give that to you sooner.”

y/n looked into luke’s eyes, somber traversing in her’s. “may i hug you?”

luke nodded, and y/n wrapped him up in her arms. the boy held tightly onto her, a sudden thought of losing her intruding his mind of peace. “happy birthday, y/n,” he whispered into her ear as they continued to embrace.

“thank you, luke. this means the world to me.”

luke now knew he had to give her the world, no matter what.

their matching bracelets would only be a reminder of what there was, what there will be and what will be gone.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Little ideas i don't know what to do with

-

1. Danny develops the power to turn people i to animals, which would be fine and dandy if he wasn't in the middle of Gotham with the hiccups.

People are turning into animals all around him as he hiccups and there's nothing he can do. He's confronted by a bat who wants to know whats going on and Danny, while frantically trying to explain that hes not some animal themed supervillian, hiccups again turning the vigilante into an animal.

Danny just stares at the little animal hero and sighs before grabbing a box and gathers up all the animalized people. Danny keeps getting confronted by bats and accidentally turning them into animals cause they won't let him speak

The only person this doesn't work on is Red Hood due to the pit water inside him making him resistant to Dannys powers. Unfortunately it does partially work, making Red hood half part animal of your choice (think catboy)

Red hood is now extra extra angry and Danny is noting out whenever he spots him, which doesn't help with the bats assuming he's a new rogue

--

2. Danny moves to Gotham and learns that he can hear the com lines the bats use. He keeps quiet about it both because he doesn't want the bats attention and because they're hilarious

---

3. One of the bats were down and a big bad was slowly approaching the bat. Danny, not knowing what to do, stole a tie off an unconscious dude and tied it around his head like a blindfold and used his intangibility to see. He knew backup would be here soon so he just needed to distract the big bad until they get here.

How? The eggs from his grocery bag should do nicely.

Aka Danny eggs a criminal

----

4. Danny keeps kidnapping Freshly crime lorded Jason. Why? Jason is dad shaped. Red Hood shook with laughter the first time he heard this and now Danny kidnaps Red Hood whenever he needs an adult or a fake dad.

Not Jason Todd, no. Full on Red Hood. Those poor social workers looked like they were gonna have a heart attack. If Jason isn't in his gear Danny will weight patiently for him to put it on.

-----

5. Danny is cursed into being a crow. After several failed attempts to communicate with the bats he gets mad and just builds a nest on the bat computer. No amount of removing or destroying the nest with make him stop and he'll just build another one.

[fillinforlater]

Monday of Appreciation: Part 101

Hello everyone, Smite here!

2 YEAR ANNIVERSARY of Monday of Appreciation!

My first MoA post was posted on the 20th of September 2021, two years. Time really flies, huh? I don't want this to be just another MoA 100 post, but I really gotta thank you all, especially because Part 100 received so much love, God, it made me so happy <3 It was a kinda cathartic moment, the series had an epic peak... all thanks to you.

I definitely also want to thank all the writers, without whom this all wouldn't exist. My way of thanking you all is by... featuring a FUCKTON of stories below. Even if you are not featured (first of all, I'm sorry lol), I still appreciate your work and comradery in the bunker. Y'all are amazing <3

LET'S GET TO IT!!!

No. 1: @dnd-writes: Way of Water ft. Eunbi

Ah yes, Waterbomb Eunbi. The event that captured us all. The idea with the backup dancer is straight forward, nice, but the greatest thing about this is the watersports. Waterbomb, watersports... you get it? Just read it.

No.2: @leafostuff: No Names Needed ft. Sheon (Billlie)

Thanks to Leafo for spreading the good word of Sheon and her... goddamn midriff. No more reasons needed, appreciate this girl already, ugh.

No. 3: @iznsfw: The Devil's Telephone ft. Yujin

Everything IZ touches skips the part where it turns to gold. Fuck gold, IZ just creates diamondtic-masterpieces. I was thrilled to learn about this fic and when I read it... IZ did it again! This portrayal of Yujin is everything. What are we to your might!

No. 4: @idyllicidols: Cheat Day ft. Wonyoung

Wonyoung gangbang with her fans? I bet you all are already foaming at your mouth. Go on. Read it. Leave some love for this talented writer after getting your loads off the screen.

No. 5: @rvp32: Whisper of Uncontrollable Desire ft. Chaewon

Let me tell you, rvp is great! They don't hold back, they go all out, they try A/B/O, they like futa (please write futa!) and they have a Gaeul series. This one fucking sent me <3

No. 6: @existslikepristin: Not Summer Yet ft. Jeongyeon

Thx ELP for the nice message on Part 100! Thanks also for giving us these crazy pieces again and again (well, this one isn't too crazy for your standards, but you get me). This felt really intimate, liked it!

No. 7: @dreamcatchers-husband: The City of Love and Secrets ft. Sejeong

You better learn French for this fic. But fr, now I wanna go to Paris and marry a beautiful girl before :floshed: filling her up because she truly is mine now ahhhhh

No. 8: @capslocked: SERENDIPITY ft. Eunbi

Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, Caps, what am I gonna do with you? Your fics are ALWAYS in my to read list and when I get to them... yeah, takes more than one attempt... more like five. Fuck you, I love you.

No. 9: @ggidolsmuts: Sin, Hormones and the Starlet's Boyfriend ft. Yunjin, Somi

HOLY FUCKING FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK, that was so FUCKING hot, I caaaaan't stop meeeeee, this is so good, I need more of this. Yeah, basically every ddeun fic makes me go like this. What a fucking legend, man.

No. 10: @smuttysabina: A Pervert Bred by Perverts only Breeds more Perverts ft. E:U (Everglow)

As you can see, the title is quite elaborate on what happens in this fic. A bunch of perverts, a lot (and I do mean a LOT) of cum to breed and in the end everyone is happy. You too, you filthy pervert?

No. 11: @writingsomesin-amber: Puppies' New Toy Part 3 ft. LSFM, Xiaoting

FUTA, the best kind of futa. The one with Alphas, with Kazuha (who always has a HUGE cock), with boundless sex that's just horny nonsense. This is what I want to read. Thank you for writing it!

No. 12: @co-reborn: [PPV] BG SEX PERFECT PINK HAIR KOREAN COLLEGE GIRL RIDES AND GETS CREAMPIED - Full Ver ($30).mp4 ft. Jiheon

This is a sequel to probably the best porn focused smut to ever exist. Thank you, c.o, for creating this, for making it a universe and for dropping another Jiheon smut. She hot, you hot <3

No. 13: @pfxhk: Staircase: Prepotent Pleasure ft. Yuqi

Kaaajin <3 finally another Yuqi fic and a very good one at that. I want her hot lips wrapped around me too now.

No. 14: @rosiesmuts: After Dark ft. Rose

Rose little fuck doll. Her pics lately have been mind-fucking or sth like that, I dunno, just sex. Oh, and I know a lot of good things happen late at night.

No. 15: @akkaweo-akkaweo: Treatment ft. Jinsoul

That's the treatment wr allll want from our dear Jinsoul. Her gorgeous visuals have really stunned me since she joined Modhaus. Now paint that pretty face.

No. 16: @mode-lfy: Jinni (SMUT) ft. Jinni (ex-NMIXX)

Sooooo... when does Jinni unzip my pants, first thing in the morning finally come back?

Edit: SHE ACTUALLY IS?!?! LFG!

No. 17: @worldsover: link in bio top 0.1% creator ft. Jiheon

This one is the follow-up to c.o's [PVV], so we got a whole-ass universe with pornstar!Jiheon now. What a blessing, and it leaves us with no doubt that Jihron would reach that 0.1% if she'd show her cute face and bubble butt on cam... when tho???

No. 18: @allthekingssmut: She's Rough And Coarse And Gets Everywhere ft. Heejin

Star Wars is already a win in my book, pair it with hotness everywhere (the sun, a mechanic, her face) and it only gets better and better. The release to all the fucking tension between those two is EPIC. Great fic!

No. 19: @writerpeach: Overindulgent ft. Wonyoung

To say I have over-indluged in this fic would be a massive understatement. When Peach let's loose and pours out tens of thousands of words of unpure smut, we know we got ourselves a massive hit, no matter the idol. To make it even better, Wonyoung.

No. 20: @okaylikesmomo: Kampfyre Part 1 - Vocals ft. Winter

Just one word: vocal training. Wait, that is two words! So Imma a need okay to write a second part to this, because Winter has not been trained enough (imo).

No. 21: @pupyuj: Magic Words ft. Wonyoung (fem!reader)

More love to female reader fics! Especially thise one, with this sweet and spicy Wony that makes girls' legs weak and mine too xD Thank you for this great story and hot smut!

No. 22: @usedpidemo: Parasailing ft. Yuri, Minju

This story feels so nostalgic, so oddly familiar. Like I was there throughout it all and feel entitled to the release at the end. This fic has me gliding, high on their two perfect bodies.

No. 23: @summersault31: Concerto Pt. 1 ft. IU

Blowjobs under the table while tempting another woman into your sinful lifestyle... this combines a clichee with a hook that has you begging: Summer, where is Part 2?

No. 24: @midnightdancingsol: I swear, the Bear Poked Me! ft. futa!Minji x Danielle

Now for the futa appreciation. I think Sol is perfect for this, especially because the mere thought of Minji fucking Dani with her... HUGE COCK... so big and... were was I? Oh yeah, Hanni is also in this.

No. 25: @maemisnippets: You're Mine, Cheeks ft. Chaehyun (fluff)

In between 29 smuts, there is this one short fluff by our dear Maems. Well deserved, I must say. Keep it up, qt, always fun bits to read.

No. 26: @mintwithchoco: [CYMX-461] ft. Choerry, Jinsoul

Monopoly can be so much fun, if you are willing to strike some questionable deals to further your chances of winning and everyone's chances to have a good time. Bathtub sex?

No. 27: @nichuuu: Where our blue is ft. Rei

A beautiful story, it truly made me fall in love with Rei, her strive and determination, her failure, her rise---and the insane, drawn-out fucking at the end. Where our blue is has it all and I have to congratulate @nichuuu: In between all these great writers, this story really stuck out to me!

No. 28: @svndaysaweek: Niche ft. Hanni

Cute little Hanni in need of her step-brother, because she is so deeply in love with him... this was so adorable and sweet at the start and then went into an excessive smut part that fried my brain.

No. 29: @sinswithpleasure: You Can Watch, But You Can't Touch [At Least, Not Yet] ft. Mina, Sana, Momo

I. Would. Not. Last. There is no shame in me saying this, but I just couldn't, with these three hotties right in front of me. Blast it all over their bodies, hng.

No. 30: @xiakato: Ella Baila Sola ft. Xiaoting

Hm, maybe Xiaoting should dance alone, I'm not really good at it though my Just Dance scores would beg to differ.

Hey, if you read all of that, you're fucking awesome. I appreciate you, and hope, you have a great week ahead. Until the next MoA, goodbye!

[nevadancitizen]

do you think you could write something where könig and/or ghost (separate) were nearby or watched reader try to participate in a conversation but constantly got ignored or talked over to the point where they just kinda go silent and walk away? they end up comforting the reader and just trying to be a shoulder to cry on while they talk about their frustrations because this is something that always happens to them <\3

it doesn’t have to be too long and you don’t have to worry about getting to this request too quickly!! thank u for reading anyways :3

-> THE SOCIAL WEAK LINK

synopsis: rookies and debriefings are pains in both you and ghost's asses. rich people fail the turing test while interacting with you and könig.

word count: 2.2k (~1.1k each)

characters: ghost, könig, awkward! reader (lol)

notes: (rings dinner bell) hey friend.. this req has been sitting since september.. im so sorry (ಥ﹏ಥ)

-> GHOST:

Debriefings were always boring. Everyone was tired, sweaty, and just wanted a cold shower and a warm bed. But what else encompasses the military so eloquently except unnecessary misery?

And to add to the misery, some rookies had tagged along to the mission. “On-the-job training,” Price had prattled off as he read the mission statement. He had given you and the rest of the 141 an exaggerated look that screamed If these rookies compromise the mission I’m going to tear the Lieutenant Colonel a new one.

The rookies (with callsigns Quest and Cable) were nice enough. They weren’t given the opportunity to burn off their energy on the mission like the 141 – they’d stayed behind as backup while the 141 went in to deal with the bad guys. As a consequence, now they’re in the debriefing room, chattering away like parrots.

Ghost could fall asleep in the chair he was in, if Cable and Quest were a little quieter. He looks at the next spinny chair over, where you’re sitting. You’ve got your knees tucked to your chin and are silently tracing the patterns in the wood table with a fingernail. Every now and again, you glance at the rookies, but ultimately turn your eyes away.

You were always just a bit too awkward to fit in with the rest of the military. Either too quiet or too loud; you rambled too often and your voice cracked when you did. You slipped through the cracks, into the quiet background with Laswell and Shepherd. You’re one of the powerful hands that move the pieces on the chessboard, but not a well-recognized one. Well-recognized within the 141, yes, but not on a wider scale. 

Ghost can tell how you’re feeling by the obvious emotion on your face. It’s yearning – an emotion Ghost knows well.

His eyes sweep the rest of the table. Gaz is fucking around on his phone, probably making a new Pinterest board, while Soap leans over his shoulder and watches him. Price is in another room, talking to someone important. Ghost couldn’t really bring himself to care about who. 

The entire room is bogged down with an unmistakable tiredness that goes right over Quest and Cable’s heads. Really, the only sound in the room is their voices and, intermittently, yours as you try to inject yourself into their conversation. Each attempt is met with pursed lips that barely count as smiles and something along the lines of “Yeah. Anyway…”

Eventually, Price pops in, leaning his head on the doorframe. The brim of his hat crinkles and his nose wrinkles up in disdain. He sighs. “Everyone out. Lieutenant Colonel wants this meeting room for herself. We’ll debrief later.”

Quest and Cable pop up like excited teenagers and head for the door, continuing to talk. “I’m soooo goddamn hungry. Hopefully the mess hall has something good…”

“Hey!” You practically jump from your chair, your eyes on the rookies. “Um, I heard that they just restocked the vending machines? Do you wanna maybe chick – I mean, check – them out with me? They’re just down the hall.”

They both tense, and Quest looks over their shoulder. They smile awkwardly and exchange a look with Cable. “Uh… maybe another time?”

You visibly deflate and rock back on your heels. “Yeah, totally. See you later.”

They both nod tersely and exit. You take a deep breath and let out a long sigh. You sit back in the spinny chair and it wheels backwards from the force.

Gaz shuts his phone off and groans while Soap sucks air through his teeth. 

“Not your best effort,” Gaz says. 

“I know,” you say. 

“Maybe you’re not just compatible with rookies?” Soap tries.

You roll your head back against the back of the chair and stare at the ceiling. “I know.” 

You sink further into the chair, then stand. “Whatever. Let’s clear out. Price will have our heads if we don’t.”

Ghost tails you out the door. You don’t acknowledge him, but you know he’s there (even if his footsteps are extraordinarily light for a man of his stature). 

“Pompous pricks, ay?” Ghost says. 

You stick your hands in your pockets, hiking your shoulders up by your ears. “Wish they were a little more personable. Wish I was a little more personable.”

“Why, you’re plenty personable.” Ghost laughs gruffly at his own joke as he nudges your shoulder with his. 

“Asking to go ‘chick out’ the vending machines is a personable interaction?” You relax your arms and knock your elbow against Ghost’s. 

“I thought it was funny,” Ghost says. “Even if it was just a slip-up.”

You sigh, but keep up with Ghost as he walks. “If it was funny, then why didn’t they laugh?”

Ghost thinks for a second. “Maybe they just don’t have a sense of humor?”

“You don’t have a sense of humor,” you jab.

Ghost scoffs. “Of course I do.”

“Then make me laugh,” you say. “Make me laugh right now.”

Ghost breathes in and exhales slowly through the fabric of his mask. “Well… do you know why the Cold War was called the Cold War?”

“The supernations fought using proxy wars,” you say. “America and the USSR never really went head-to-head.”

Ghost sighs pointedly. “Yes,” he says, “but also because of the icy-BMs.”

“The what?”

“The Cold War?” Ghost repeats. “Icy?”

“ICBM stands for Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles.” You stop midstep, looking at Ghost with a disbelieving smile. “Ghost, don’t tell me you don’t know what ICBM stands for?”

“No, it –” Ghost sighs. “Icy sounds like IC? Icy-BMs?”

You burst out laughing, waving Ghost away like he was some form of stupid. “Ghost, seriously? You don’t – oh my God!”

“I’m not a fucking knob, I know what…” 

Ghost can’t bring himself to correct you as he watches you laugh like that. It’s a bit too loud and there’s a snort in there somewhere, but it rings true and warms Ghost’s heart. He doesn’t mind being seen as dumb for a minute if you’re able to warm his heart with a sound as nice as that. 

-> KöNIG: 

König nearly always hates going undercover. 

More often than not, the higher-ups stick him in some ill-tailored enemy armor and send him in with nothing but a less-than-encouraging slap on the ass. They know he’ll make it out alive.

On this mission, he feels a little more comfortable. It’s more than obvious you’re not. 

You and König are camped out on the edge of a ballroom, sitting together at a small table. You’re dressed in a fancy outfit that just screams decadence, and it fits your role well – the adult child of some rich, cigar-chomping tech baron. König is playing the role of your bodyguard, dressed down from his usual military garb in a plain black suit (with kevlar padding) and a balaclava.

You cross one leg over the other at the knee and look down at your flute of champagne as you swirl it. The bubbles rise to the surface and pop as the pale liquid settles. 

“I hate this,” you say under your breath, just loud enough for König to hear. 

He nods along, but straightens up when a small group of people approach the table. There’s an older woman, a middle-aged man, and a girl, maybe fifteen. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” An older woman croons at you. “You’re Bohumil Silvester’s youngest, right?”

“Oh!” You sit up straighter and put the champagne flute on the table. “Yes, I am. And, um – and who might you be?”

“I’m Laila Matthews.” Laila checks over her shoulder at the people accompanying her. “This is my daughter, Adine, and this is my husband, Keaton.”

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You smile politely, but König can scope out of the corner of his eye that you’re gripping a bit of the fabric of your too-fancy outfit like you’re meaning to rip it off. You spout your fake name to Laila with a cheeky “But you know that already, right, ma’am?”

Laila is utterly delighted with your carefully constructed persona. She throws her head back and laughs, one hand on her chest and the other finding Keaton’s shoulder. “Oh, Lord. Aren’t you just your father’s child?”

You nod and, once again, smile politely while exchanging side-eye glances with König. He’s just as confused as you are. 

As soon as Laila recovers, she’s talking again. She gestures vaguely in König’s direction. “And who is this? Security, for this casual meeting?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” you say. “You can never be too careful these days, with all the laws about concealed carry and everything.”

“Well, I’m 57, and I’ve only had security for a few occasions,” Laila says. 

“You’re 57?” You bark, a little too loud. You can feel a few heads turn your way and Laila’s stare turns withering. König’s shoulders shake as he coughs into his fist.

“I mean, um, you’re 57?” You try again, quieter. “Because you don’t look it. Like, at all. Ma’am.”

Laila’s tone is flat when she speaks. “Right.”

“I meant, um, you look younger? Uh, anyway.” You smile nervously, then pick up your champagne flute and take a sip. “I love your family’s outfits! And the, uh, the way they match.”

Keaton leans in and grabs a hold of Laila’s shoulder. He gets up on his toes to whisper something in Laila’s ear. It’s hard to hear over the ambient noise of the ballroom. Laila nods and Keaton continues to whisper.

“Um, Laila? Mrs. Matthews?” You try to get her attention, to no avail. She keeps nodding to Keaton’s words like you’re not even there.

You stand and turn to Adine. “Adine, right? Tell your mother it was nice speaking to her.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Adine nods absently, her eyes somewhere else on the ballroom floor. 

You toss the rest of the champagne in the flute down like it’s a shot and stand from the table. You make eye contact with König and nod towards the French doors that lead towards the balcony. 

People don’t notice as you and König step out. The sky is clear, yet the night is still young enough to be starless. 

“Christ, I hate rich people,” you mutter under your breath. 

König moves and leans his back against the wrought iron of the railing. His eyes sweep across the small area, then he nods. “Yes. That interaction was less than pleasant.”

You lean against the railing next to him. “Why was she even talking to me? And what did she mean, ‘Aren’t you just your father’s child?’ Like, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I am… not sure,” König says. “Maybe it’s part of rich people code?”

“Yeah, maybe.” You huff out a laugh, then sigh. “I really wasn’t the best pick for this mission.”

“What do you mean?” König asks. “You are perfectly capable of fighting.”

“No, the, like…” you sigh again. “The talking part? I’m not fit for that. Never been a good conversationalist, never will be.”

“You are conversing with me right now, no?” König gestures between you and him. “This is a conversation. You are doing fine.”

“Yes, but…” you trail off. “You saw me. I shouted her age out in front of everyone.”

König hums. “To be fair, it was a bit of a shock.”

You glance up at him and laugh, a pretty smile gracing your features. “Shut up.”

“But it was!” König insists. The fabric of his balaclava puffs out as he laughs. “I had to cough to cover up my laugh. I nearly had to excuse myself.”

“Yeah, sure.” You shove his shoulder half-heartedly as you turn and look out over the railing, at the courtyard. König follows your gaze.

The courtyard is illuminated by ambient lamps. Paths are laid with bricks, with neatly trimmed grass in between each one. Exotic plants from every corner of the globe line the pathways, some of their flowers closed for the night. A fountain is in the middle, with water spouting out of the trumpet of a cherub statue. A few people surround the fountain, talking quietly with drinks in their hands in the low light. 

You lean close to König and point at one of the people – a man in a navy suit. “That’s the target. Mister T. Kilgore.”

“So he is,” König says. He pats under his armpit, checking his sidearm. “We need to get moving. I do not like the way Laila’s husband was talking to her. Suspicious.”

You nod and send König a small smile. “We’re still going with the plan, right? I’m going in and playing drunk?”

“Of course.” König mirrors your smile even though you can’t see it. “Besides, it’ll give you an opportunity to practice your conversation skills.”

You scoff, but you’re still smiling. “Yeah, if I’m planning on interacting with everybody as a drunk idiot for the rest of my life.”

“I’m serious!” König insists. “More likely than not, you’ll never see these people again.”

A beat of silence.

“You’re right.” You knock your elbow against König’s. “Let’s give them a show.”

[sstrwbrryccke]

I SAW UR SUGAR BABY!SOOBIN FIC AND IT'S SO FUCKING HELLO ?!? could u possibly write something similar for hoon :00 (n could it be male reader :00)

HIIII thank you im glad you enjoyed it ahhsagds !!! and i have so many thoughts for sunghoon <3 i think he would be a bit more smug compared to soobin, not as obedient but playful and cute in his own way!

the ending is a little rushed because i wrote this on the airplane to shanghai 💀😭 (also not proofread so its probably really bad)

— sponsor | sub park sunghoon

tags: aspiring skater!sugarbaby!sunghoon x rich!reader, amab reader, power dynamics, praise kink, unconventional settings to have sex, soft sex, shower sex, frottage, thigh fucking, body worship

you were old money, the kind that people call 'disgustingly rich'. the type of rich family that throw galas instead of family gatherings, and that's where you met him in the first place. it was one of your many cousins' birthday, excessively wealthy and extravagant, a golden gilded hall decorated with a specially laid ice skating rink for performers. you heard your cousin had been an avid ice skating fan and wanted a live performance for his birthday.

the night had been smooth, dull as you would expect out of a bunch of old-money conservatives whose idea of humour is joking about tax evasion. but you notice just by the off-chance, a lean man clad in all black, bumping into a column, a word slips from his mouth; which you can only guess was a swear word. it was strange, he was clearly out of place. but this wasn't some wattpad story about you sweeping a mysterious man off his feet, so you shrugged and continued sipping on your champagne glass.

you only really notice him during the performance, the mass was seated in the grand hall, lights dimming as the spotlight shone; and it was seriously strange. because he wasn't even the main lead, in fact, he was one of the many backup dancers. yet you just couldn't take your eyes off him. there was something so enchanting about his elegance, you could feel his genuine dedication and passion from where he skated. when the show finished, you find yourself clapping, eyes still mesmerized as the boy leaves for the backstage.

a crowd gathers around the main leads, interested sponsorships and words of praise exchanged. while your eyes drift to the man walking off, taking a scone from the buffet stands before disappearing into the balcony. naturally, you follow after him— which in hindsight was slightly creepy because you've been practically eyeing him down. but you really wanted to spark up a conversation with this pretty boy.

when you reach the balcony, you find the backside of the man leaning on the railing. you lean next to him and he was visibly startled— so much so he dropped the scone in his hand. he does attempt to catch it— horribly, and the dessert tumbles into the void, his mouth agape. "aish..."

"ah, sorry."

"no, it's no problem! really! sir!" he quickly rectifies, aheming into his fist and waving his other hand around before looking directly in front of him. occasionally glancing at you with his eyes only. he was visibly nervous, definitely embarrassed too. he straightens his back and raises his chin, probably trying to seem professional in front of you; but you could tell with the way he clenched his jaw that he was tense. and you don't blame him, it looks like this was his first time coming to such a luxurious gala, surrounded by tons of powerful men and women who could either make or break his career.

"well, what's your name?" you offer a conversation starter, since it didn't seem like he was budging.

"i'm park sunghoon, sir!"

"nice to meet you park sunghoon, how old are you?" you ask smoothly, stretching a hand out for him to shake. he couldn't even look you in the eyes, what a shy and polite man.

he wipes his sweaty hands on his pants, before taking your hand with both of his, bowing. "nice, nice to meet you too! i'm 21 turning 22, sir."

"we're the same age, that means you don't need to call me sir."

"yes sir." he replies without much thought.

you give him a pointed look and he quickly shuts up. he was endearing in his own way though, the interaction made you smile. this man who had previously been so elegant and precise on stage was actually very timid.

"you caught my eye in the performance."

he lights up at this, turning his head to you with a small bashful smile on his lips. "thank you so much, i'm surprised you remember me."

"of course i do, couldn't keep my eyes off you in fact." you advance, tilting your head as you subtly flirt. you were into him and you wanted him to understand that. "oh." he mouthed, and it seems like he was starting to recognize the connotations of the conversation. he was still smiling, but you could see a pink tint on his pale skin.

"no, seriously. you're super talented, i want to sponsor you."

his smile drops, a shocked expression on his face instead, soon he's ecstatic. "really?"

you chuckle, "yes, really."

☆★☆

perhaps, your definition of sponsor was just sugar baby with extra steps. because soon, the two of you fall into that type of relationship. it started with a bouquet of flowers after his practice (which you went to weekly), then it became a dinner invitation, and eventually you were lavishing him with gifts and luxury items. okay, perhaps you were just courting this man in the form of presents.

you watch on the sidelines as sunghoon does his usual practice on the ice (a private ice rink you hired for him), he glances towards you with a mischievous grin before doing a silly spin. you just chuckle, shaking your head. when it was over you sling a towel over his neck like usual, handing him a water bottle. he stares at you, rather proud of himself.

"did you see the spin?"

"nah, i was looking at the wall." you joke, there was literally no one else but sunghoon to look at. "issh" he shakes his head, lightly punching your arm.

after, you treat him to a nice dinner in this expensive restaurant, he’s used to your dinner invitations, but he still can't settle his nerves coming to such a high-end restaurant. chatting with you soothed his anxiety though, and shortly he was joking and laughing like usual.

the first course was served, and you took this opportunity to slide over the blue container with the tiffany and co logo. sunghoon takes it shyly, glancing at you, you give him an encouraging look. at the beginning of this dynamic; he did try to refuse the expensive gifts, but you were insistent and sunghoon secretly enjoyed receiving the presents too.

he feels his heart thumping with excitement as he unwraps the case, a genuine surprise in his eyes when he pulls out the silver wire tiffany t bracelet. he’s been wanting it for a while now, mentioning it once casually. and you remembered! he tries it on for you; because he knows you like seeing him with your gifts. the bracelet glints in the light and he looks at you with a reserved smile.

"thank you so much... i don't know to repay you—"

"by being mine." you interrupt him, the words come out before you can even comprehend it, baffled by your impulsivity. "i'm sorry it just came out— if it makes you uncomfortable i apo—"

"yes."

you blink slowly, while he looks at you with full seriousness. and that's how sugar baby sunghoon came to be.

☆★☆

navigating the dynamic was like navigating any other romantic relationship, though sunghoon treated it like a contract at the start. unusual, but usual for sunghoon. it made you chuckle about his seriousness of the entire situation. the whole circumstance was bizarre but silly. what an endearing man. he would sit you down one day, hands clasped together.

"what are your expectations for me?"

and you snicker. he said it like it was a full-time job, which maybe it could be.

"recieve my gifts, and enjoy your best life."

he looked determined, continuing on. "is sex on the table?" he was surprisingly straightforward. it's always the quiet ones who were unexpectantly bold huh...

"if you're comfortable with that, yes." you give him a firm nod.

"i see." he pulls back, shy again.

"so, are you?" you tease, because he didn't outwardly give an answer.

he pauses, and you spot a glint in his eyes. his tongue darts out to wet his lips and his mind runs rampant. how cute.

"i am."

☆★☆

and wow was that quite literally the best decision in your entire life. everything remained the same, except now you have an extremely hot and sexy ice skater whose libido was as high as his talent. life was good. life was great.

training went as you expect, sunghoon absolutely smashed through his routine. running back to you with a proud smile, hands on his hips.

"i did pretty good, didn't i?" he always asked similar questions, pridefully, wanting to be praised.

"did you? didn't see." you would always tease him, and he would respond by playfully hitting your shoulder. the sass doesn't last long though, because the moment you two are alone in the locker room that's when you go down on him, embracing him as his lovely quiet moans seep out from your kiss.

it should be classified as an addiction at this point, the amount of unconventional places you guys had done it in. collecting locations like pokemon cards. it was tame at first, or tame for your standards anyway. the first time was in the hotel, of course, but after that, you went straight for the ice rink. its not exactly public, as you had rented the entire private rink for your beautiful ice prince, but the setting itself was scandalous. just imagining the sanction that housed many hours of his talent, being dirtied by his sweat in another sense was downright sinful. sunghoon never complained however, because as long as you praise him, he was satisfied. boy was he a sucker for praise, he keens when you whisper in his ear, almost over the moon when you compliment him on his skating. he would moan unashamedly, (normally he would block his moans or whimper) and you respond by spreading his legs in clear view of the ice rink. slam him down and feel his back arch prettily against your chest.

sunghoon was contradictorily both shy and straightforward when it came to his words and actions during sex. he's quiet and sometimes downright refuses to moan or beg. yet when he's close he would straight-up demand things from you. when you fold his flexible body in half and ram into his sensitive hole, he would spread wider for you (which you thought was physically impossible but he proves you wrong), yet bashfully hides himself when you praise him. he was a man full of contradictions, but it really drove you wild.

but it wasn't all about sex anyway, sex made up barely half of it, because it was really all about him. sunghoon just had a soul that was born to attract you. he's introverted and reserved with others, which explains why he doesn't attract sponsors or gain lead roles, but underneath it all was such a uniquely endearing man with a strong ambition for his passions.

you absolutely loved spoiling this boy and watching his reactions; him wearing the items you brought for him just gave you that extra dose of serotonin. when the two of you made it official, he was just so much more ecstatic with each gift he received from you. it wasn't even the gifts themselves that pleased him so much, it was the care you gave that really hit the mark for him. that burberry scarf he eyed for a few minutes? woke up to it on his lap. the prada bag he briefly mentioned he thought was fashionable? on the kitchen counter. you just paid so much attention to him, and he felt so loved.

you supported him in his ice skating career too, attending every competition he's been in and always making sure to watch over at least one of his daily practices a week. he had big ambitions and eventually wanted to compete in the olympics, which you had no doubts he would achieve.

gradually, you wanted to integrate him into your life too, though it was hard to explain to your parents the logistics behind taking a 'common ice skater' with you everywhere. you two managed to keep a low profile.

and by everywhere, you meant everywhere. you brought him to tennis and golf practices, he struggled with golf but had fun with tennis. and you brought him to basically every single gala and ball your family tree hosted. it was enjoyable at first, but introverts do what introverts do and he gradually voiced how he preferred quieter, more intimate meetings with you. in which you decided to only bring him to the important galas. (maybe every single one was a bit overkill) but he was so right because intimate stay-ins with him were so much better and more peaceful compared to your hectic everyday life. he was a very mindful and health-conscious person, so you often find yourself doing stretches and going to the gym with him. it was absolute zen. plus, there was the bonus of you slowly snaking your arms behind him, kissing his neck and lips as much as you want without worrying about public perception.

☆★☆

you can tell something was bothering him, with the way he fidgeted and dazed off in your shared hotel room. anyone in his position would he nervous, after all, he was competing for the olympics! through much hard-work from his side and endless support from yours, he qualified for the olympic team after winning nationals with flying colours. you knew he had it in him, you knew since the first day you met.

“hoon, you nervous?” you ask, coming up behind him to rub at his shoulders. he gives you a small smile before sighing. “a little.”

you pull him into a hug, your chest pressed towards his back. he relaxes slightly. “want to talk about it baby?” you stroke his stomach, trying to soothe him.

“it’s silly,” he gives you a half smile. you slap his thigh lightly “issh!”

“it’s not silly, tell me.” you pout, kissing his neck. he laughs as you lavish his neck with lovebites.

“i’m just worried that i’m going to lose.” he says in-between giggles. you temporarily stop your assault in his neck, lifting your head to look at him.

“you won’t lose baby, and even if you do, just being in the team is already an amazing feat. most people go their whole lives without even touching olympic level.”

he seemed a little reassured by this, but you could tell his mind was still swirling with other thoughts. you kiss his cheeks, waiting for him to open up about it himself.

“it’s just, if i lose, im wasting all your effort and money.”

you finally pause at this, giving him a look. “what? how am i wasting effort and money on you?”

he seemed a little nervous, gulping down his saliva. “i mean, you invested so much into me, the least i could do is win.” you were shocked, was he dense or stupid? maybe a little bit of both. you roll your eyes as you lift him in your arms. he lets out a startled gasp as you bring him to the bathroom. you face him towards the mirror, grasping at his chin so he looks directly into his eyes.

“do you see this? what a gorgeous, beautiful, godly man.” you whisper in his ear and you watch his cheeks blossom a scarlet red. your hands trail down to his chest, unbuttoning the top.

“wow, look at that. so pretty, so soft and perfect.” you knead his chest, flicking at his pink nipples before moving down, massaging his toned stomach. he was staring at the parts your hand were drifting to as you fondle him. you kiss the shell of his ear, making him shiver “hngh…”

your fingers trail down, you lick your lips at his delicious reactions. palming at his erection. “every part of you is so pretty. such nimble arms and thighs, no wonder you’re so good at ice skating. everything about you is just so lovable.”

he was trembling, glancing into your eyes in the mirror and you could tell he wanted you to continue. “don’t you get it already? you really think i brought all those gifts, paid all those lessons and sponsored you because it was an investment?” you whisper, he turns his face to meet with yours, taking your lips desperately.

“i love you.” he whispers breathily into the kiss, that was the first time any of you said that sentence. he freezes, anxiety filling his face.

“i love you too, hoon.” you french kiss him, your tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip, he reciprocates gladly.

“i love you i love you i love you so so much.” he stammers, grinding his ass against your hardening cock. “i love you too baby, you have no idea how much i love you.” you grunt into his ear, sliding your dick out from your underwear. the both of you were barely clothed in the first place.

“hngh put it in already please,” he’s never been this vocal before, you felt your cock twitch just at the desperation in his voice. but you controlled yourself, he had a skating competition tomorrow after all.

“hoonie the olympics is tomorrow.” he whines and you chuckle fondly. spoiled brat.

“put your thighs together.” you give his ass a light slap, he listens and puts his thighs closely. you could see his dripping cock through the small gap. “good boy.” you praise and he rubs his thighs together.

not waiting any longer, you slip your hard cock between his thighs, groaning lowly at the sensation. god it felt so good, he clearly thinks so too because he immediately whimpers, pushing back at your dick. you let him adjust to the sensation before slowly thrusting against his thigh.

“angh... ugh… so good… love you… love you…” he whimpered, panting softly. you pull his head to the side to kiss him again, hand grasping at both of your cocks and he cries into your mouth. you thrust harder and faster, he reciprocates happily by clenching his thighs tighter. soon his stomach was squeezing and his pants became breathier.

“gonna come, can i come? please? please?” and who were you to resist your prince?

“come for me hoonie, come for me.”

his thighs stutter and he clenches his teeth as a strangled voice comes out. he came in spurts, long and thin. you wish you could taste his pretty semen as well but thats for another time. you slip your cock out from his thighs, jerking yourself off and coming all over his ass and back.

it was arousing and you could almost go again, but he needed rest so you tenderly kissed his back, cleaning him up.

“i’m going to win for you.” he says breathily while you were wiping him down, you look at him amused, chuckling.

“don’t do it for me, do it for yourself.”

“no, this seriously motivated me to win. i’m going to win the olympics and then we’re going to have the most mind-blowing sex ever.”

you guys share a look before laughing.

☆★☆

everyone could hear the thumping of their own hearts as they waited for the results to unveil. sunghoon grasps your hand and you give him a squeeze.

before you could process it, you were ecstatically cheering, turning to sunghoon. the man beside you was in genuine shock, staring at his high score as if it was an alien on earth. holy shit, he got the highest score and he’s in first place!!!

snghoon lunges for you, tumbling you out of your chair as he tightly hugs you. not like you cared about the people staring, because you shared the excitement. you hug him back just as tightly, stroking his back. you feel the crook of your neck and shoulder wet.

after a few seconds, you help him stand and he wipes his eyes with an embarrassed smile. you couldn’t stop grinning as he received his medal.

☆★☆

sunghoon was able to keep both of his promises that day. the moment you two arrived in the hotel, you had a very needy sunghoon clinging around you neck, drawing you into a deep kiss as you navigate around the room.

you manage to peel him off for a second, to undress him and yourself, stumbling into the shower. you adjust the water while sunghoon unrelentlessly grinds against your cock.

“hn, god please! ive been wanting this since yesterday, ive been so good, so good, please reward me” he whimpers quietly and you melt. you grasp his hips tightly, pulling his back flush against your chest and you grind down his ass. he groans, hands propped on the shower wall for support.

your finger plays with his rim and he whines, prodding the hole before inserting. you were careful, treating his body like porcelain as you coo into his ear. he was so desperate, willingly giving up his sweet voice for you to hear. you add another finger and he was now fully rutting against you, eyes closed as he fucked himself on your fingers. it was an endearing sight, but you pull out, slapping your cock on his ass.

“what do you want again?” you play innocent, chuckling at his offended expression. he groans, frustratedly pushing back at your cock.

“you know what i want! i want you inside me please!” he whines out and you laugh. you give him what he wants, slipping your cock into his tight hole, groaning as you feel his gummy walls enclose around you.

“you feel so good sunghoon, such a pretty boy.” you coo into his ear and he clenches his thighs tighter. you thrust into him, each one faster and harder than the previous one and he was in actual heaven. tongue lolling out as he groans with each motion, it didn’t take long until he was crying out a strangled coming.

you weren’t done with him yet though, you prop his flexible legs up, making him sink deeper into your cock as he chokes. before he could protest you start nailing into him, hitting his prostate so well and on point that he visibly crumbles, hands desperately grabbing at anything as his cock sputters out another load.

his eyes were wide as he watches his dick cry uncontrollably, while you adjust behind him, ready to piston into him all over again. oh boy was he in for a wild ride…

that’s how the night progressed, you plummeting his ass in the shower, and then at the bathroom counter, then you moved him to the hotel bed, forcing him to ride you until he couldn’t prop himself up anymore.

his body slumps over yours, exhausted and overstimulated, thighs trembling and nerves sputtering. but you still moved beneath him and he cries “can’t! can’t, hurts please it feels too good.”

you grin into his skin, jerking his cock a few times and he comes again. body limp. you pull out and the warm semen in his hole dribble out. just as you try to move to clean him up, his arms tightly wind around your waist.

“stay here.” it was a demand from your ice prince and you snicker.

“anything for the olympic winner.”

[ashwhowrites]

From the prompt list for fluff can I request 21 and 22?

Did you just call me sweetheart?”

“I can keep you company till you fall asleep”

Of course! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Bedtime Angel

Eddie didn't like to admit to anyone he struggled to sleep after the events he faced in the upside down. His body was covered in scars, along with his brain. He couldn't sleep in the dark, he felt embarrassed when he bought a night light. The cashier eyed him weirdly as she scanned the small dinosaur light.

But that small light brought him so much relief. He had it right next to his bed, the bright white light lit up his room. He removed the doors in his closet, he needed to see exactly what was on the inside. He kept all corners of his room clean, he made sure nothing was able to hide in his room.

Wayne wasn't sure where his nephew disappeared too, but he understood he went through some type of trauma. Wayne supplied more night lights throughout their new trailer. He kept the bathroom light on always, he didn't care how expensive the electricity bill was. He'd do anything to make Eddie feel safe again.

After the events, Eddie found himself needing one person only. Y/N, someone he had no idea existed until the gang brought her as a backup in the upside down. She was gorgeous and fearless. She was supposed to bike with Dustin back to the trailer for safety, but once Eddie went down she froze. She screamed at Dustin to get the group while she raced back to Eddie.

Eddie was prepared to die, and he accepted that. He didn't have anything to live for. And dying a hero sounded comforting enough to let go. As he bled out, and scrunched his eyes shut he felt hands on his body. Someone cradled his head as a piece of fabric was pushed against his cuts. The bats left, it was just him and her.

"Go." He mumbled, his eyes peered up. Her worried eyes were focused on keeping him alive.

"Shh, it's okay. Dustin is getting help. I'm not leaving you. I'm Y/N." She said she wanted to get his mind off the pain, she knew introducing herself sounded dumb but she didn't want to be a stranger to him. She wasn't sure if he'd survive and she wanted him to die with a friend.

Eddie remembered her voice trialing in and out as he tried to stay awake. She talked about herself, her likes and dislikes. In a way, it was comforting for Eddie. He felt like he was meeting someone and getting to know them. He didn't feel like he was lying on the ground, seconds away from death. In a way, he felt alive.

"It was nice to meet you Y/N." He said, her smile faded as the blackness took over his vision.

~~~

Ever since then, he called her all the time. She was his angel. He truly felt like she saved him that night. Even though the events happened two months ago, she answered every time. She came over and talked to him throughout the day. They gained a friendship, and along the way, he felt a crush forming on her.

She always left at bedtime, believing all this time Eddie was getting the rest he needed. No idea he tossed and turned, his eyes afraid to close.

But too many restless nights showed. His face was pale, and his eyes were sunken in. Big purple bags underneath his red eyes.

"Eddie, have you been sleeping?" She asked, dropping her coat on the floor as she walked back over to him. She was prepared to leave, at the same time as always. But she couldn't help but feel like Eddie needed her.

"No." He said honestly, too exhausted to lie.

"Are you scared?" She asked. She wasn't teasing or mocking him. Her voice was soft and worried. She generally was asking and Eddie felt like a little kid with their mom. What a way to impress a girl he liked.

She could sense Eddie didn't want to answer. His embarrassed face and eyes faced down to his bed.

"Oh, sweetheart!" She cooed, she crawled into the bed, sitting up against his headboard. She patted her lap, and he silently followed her direction. He moved his body to rest against her, his head on her lap as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“I can keep you company till you fall asleep," she said, Eddie was too tired to answer. He allowed his body to melt into his bed. His brain shut off as her hands rubbed his head. Her nails scratched through his curls in the most calming way he'd ever felt.

"Did you just call me sweetheart?” he mumbled, a tired yawn leaving his lips.

"Yes." She said, and she had no shame about it.

His stomach fluttered and a tiny smile stretched across his lips.

For once, he wasn't afraid to go to sleep.

The bright dinosaur nightlight shined throughout his room. He was surrounded by light and his angel.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | thirteen.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.8k

—chapter content/warnings: day with the boys!!, soccer games and new friends, oc tapping back into her drawing, small affectionate kisses, other small gestures of affection, a bbq at the house with some karaoke lol, alcohol consumption/intoxication (not oc), protected sex, clit play/fingering, neck kisses, very soft and tender moments between oc x minho

"Where's the cooler?" You ask Jisung as you neatly stack the blankets and bags of food into Chan's trunk.

"What cooler?" You cock a brow up and place a hand on your hip.

"You mean to tell me we were going to the park without any water or other drinks?" At this point, Minho and Chan are walking out of the house rolling a cooler and holding another tray of food.

"That's why you can't ask him to do anything." Minho chimes in.

"I remembered! I just.. was gonna do it last so the ice wouldn't melt, you know?" Chan laughs loudly.

"Mm, yeah sure." Chan responds after setting the cooler into the trunk, shutting it close and letting out a content sigh. "Are we ready? Where's Seungmin?"

"Seungmin is here." Seungmin walks out of the house and locks the front door before raising his camera. "Almost forgot this badboy." He runs straight to the passenger side. "Shotgun!" He laughs and slips himself into the seat.

"I'll sit in the middle." You shrug, sliding in so that the two boys can have their space at the end seats. Once everyone is buckled in and ready to go, Chan drives off to a park roughly 30 minutes away. You shut your eyes during the ride, leaning onto Minho's shoulder to offset the slight motion sickness you still experience. Your friends decided it was perfect weather to hang out, get some air and play some games before heading back home in time for dinner. A few of Chan's mutual friends and Seungmin and Jisung's close coworkers were also heading to the park, making it a nice get-together that wouldn't be too chaotic [hopefully].

Chan pulls up to a spot along the curb right in front of the large grassy field, surrounded by large trees that provided sufficient shade. Chan, Seungmin and Jisung's friends were already setting up at the center of the field, running over to greet your group. They all take their turns introducing you before you take your blanket and lay it under one of the trees. Chan sets the food and the cooler next to you, making it easily accessible for the group.

"Do you need anything? Water?" Chan says, digging through the cooler to make sure the ice is still covering the drinks properly.

"Please." You give him a toothless smile as he hands you a cold bottle.

"Medicine?"

"Took it this morning at the house."

"Food?" He points to the insulated bag that holds some gimbap that his mom made.

"Maybe in a bit." You giggle.

"Okay. Holler if you need us, yeah?" He calls out just as he's beginning to run over to his friends. The group starts acting chaotically, even as they work through dividing teams and back-ups. You giggle to yourself when Jisung gets way too carried away, acting incredibly sure of himself that he was going to carry his team to victory. Minho puts himself as backup for now, racing over to you on the blanket as the teams begin their first game of soccer. 

"Fuck, finally." He says as he plops down right next to you, already exhausted by the commotion.

"Too much going on, hm?"

"Yeah, and Jisung's all hyped and loud." You laugh and continue to sketch the field in front of you.

"Be nice."

"I am nice. Always." He smirks at you, playfully pinching your side.

"Hey!" You giggle, trying to smack his hand away from another attack. He laughs as he re-focuses on the group's game ahead, cheering for his team in between claps and yelling for them to pick up the pace. When Minho looks over at you, he smiles to himself when he catches how focused you are. You hold the pencil delicately, but your lips are formed into a pout while your brows are tightly knit. He glances at the sketch, watching the way the tip of your pencil glides over the page so flawlessly.

You had always been talented, there was no doubt about that. Before Minho fucked this all up, he used to hang up your paintings and random sketches all around his room. Even kept a napkin sketch of Link Kirby in his wallet just because he liked it so damn much and thought you were the cutest in the world— why on earth were you scribbling Link Kirby during the high school graduation party?

Even now, Minho thinks you're the cutest in the world. He doesn't wanna break the silence, but he can't help himself when he—

"Y/N." You look up from your sketchbook, glancing over to Minho on your left. He gives off a tiny, breathy laugh before smiling toothlessly at you.

"Yes?" He shakes his head. He just likes to look at you because sometimes, it's hard for him to process that this is real. That you're real, that you're here. The light bounces off your skin so flawlessly and suddenly, he's filled with overwhelming emotion—

Maybe he's gotten another chance to love you, to love you right. And if that's so, he'll never take this for granted.

"Nothing." His hand comes up to cup your cheek and you feel his thumb caress the surface. You lean into it for a bit and smile softly at him before quietly returning your attention to the sketch.

Love.

You are what Minho loves the most.

"Yo! Get your ass in there, I'm tapping out." Jisung huffs and puffs with his hands on his hips, approaching you two on the blanket. "You can do all that lovey-dovey stuff later." He tries to shoo Minho away.

"Tapping out? You didn't do anything except fall on your ass the entire time." Jisung mocks him and makes a face before firing back with:

"I was falling on my ass because I was being a good guard."

"Yeah, whatever." Minho says, jogging towards the field. 

"I'm just gonna lay here, cielo. Don't mind me." Jisung says, laying back on the blanket and closing his eyes. "If they ask for me, tell them I am off the clock."

"Of course, pachi. Whatever works for you." You chuckle to yourself as you start shading. You're convinced Jisung is fake-napping because he's awfully quiet during the time he's next to you. 

Doesn't stop everyone from calling him out and telling him to pick up the slack.

You're alone for the next half, but you get lots done with your sketches despite the yelling and chaos going on on the field. You've drawn the field, the small pond across the street. A lady walking her golden retriever. Minho and Seungmin standing off to the side as they wait. You've eaten one of the sandwiches Seungmin made, giving a piece to Minho when he runs over and steals a bite.

It's good times, good vibes.

You wanted nothing more than to have time for yourself, time to tap back into your creative spark.

Back at the house, Jisung and Minho make way for you to shower first while they get the grill going in the backyard. Seungmin has his own bathroom in his room downstairs, and he offers to switch off with Chan once he's finished. You take a quick shower, throwing on some comfy cotton shorts and a shirt before heading down the steps to the living room and kitchen area. This gives way for Jisung and Minho to shower and switch off before running back down to help in the kitchen. Once things have settled a bit more, they have music going, the boys already a few shots in while sipping on beers. Minho is preparing some side dishes in the kitchen, while Jisung and Seungmin accompany Chan at the grill.

"Hey." You gently tap his side, making him look over his shoulder. "Do you need help?" He chuckles and shakes his head.

"No. They might though." He nods over at the boys outside.

"Do you need me to take anything outside before I go?"

"Mm, maybe just the water?"

"Okay." You smile up at him as you grab the water pitcher near him.

"Thank you." He says, giving you a quick kiss on the head before you turn on your heel and meet your friends outside. You set the water down near the fire pit and outdoor sectional before asking Chan if he needs anything at the grill. He shakes his head and urges you to sit and enjoy the fire pit, the sun slowly setting beneath the horizon. 

So, you do.

You watch your friends enjoy themselves to the music, laughing and singing along from where you're at. You feel at ease, you feel alive. Everything is perfect tonight.

Sooner or later, Jisung plops onto the sectional with you, sipping on his beer before kicking his feet up. 

"You doing okay?" He asks, leaning his head back against the couch.

"I am. Are you?"

"Kinda drunk already." He burps. "Shit."

"Kinda?" You chuckle. 

"Mhm." He nods. "Were you able to draw a lot today?"

"Mm, I drew enough. It was nice."

"Good, cielo. Glad to hear." He taps your leg before letting out a breath, watching as Minho brings the side dishes out and joins Chan at the grill. Every now and then, he glances over at you two, giving you a tiny, toothless smile before returning his attention back to Chan.

"Pachi?"

"Yes?"

"Did Minho and I really go through a lot?" You prop your leg up on the sectional and place your elbow on the edge, cheek resting on the palm of your hand. He looks at you for a moment before shrugging.

"Yeah, as with anybody else. Probably the best way to explain it." He doesn't really dive into it much, and his answers are obviously vague. You're not sure if he's just letting Minho take the reigns on this, or if he says it that way because the history truly isn't that bad. Jisung looks at you with a tiny pout before following up with— "But, things are better now. Right? You two have gotten cozy." You chuckle and kick his leg.

"Don't say it like that."

"It's true, though. You two have always had love for each other." He grabs his glass and swirls his beer around for a second. "You're happy?"

"Of course I am."

"No, but. I mean with Minho." He finally looks at you with doe-eyes, partially filled with relief, the other.. [perhaps] worry?

"Oh, yeah." You shrug. "I don't have a reason to not be." Jisung looks back down at his glass before saying anything, and you're not sure what it means.

"Mm, that's good to hear." He meets your eyes with a faint smile at the corner of his lips. "All I want is for you to be happy." And Jisung says it sincerely; he means this with all his heart, even if he might've gotten too protective and tried to shield you from parts of the past. He sees you happy and comfortable with Minho, and vice versa. Even though he was mad at Minho for trying again, he was also Jisung's bestfriend and he knew he was trying. It's all he wanted after the disconnect in the beginning. He's come to understand that maybe, you'll just always have that pull to him, and there was no way Jisung would stop that. He is just afraid, and he hopes Minho has truly learned from his mistakes.

He traces the top of his glass with his finger while he listens to you playfully bicker with Seungmin now. His thoughts are bombarding him while he's drunk and he kinda hates it.

Jisung just wants you happy.

But, raw, true, genuine happiness.

That's where he messed up as your bestfriend. Because you may be happy, but he knows they've shaped it this way— they've shaped it this way so you know nothing but happiness, though there are so many things that could shift it all.

He molded your happiness. You didn't get a chance to shape that yourself, and this— this is where he feels awful.

"Food's ready." Minho calls out, making you, Jisung and Seungmin grab plates before walking towards the food. Chan gives you a good serving on your plate with a bit of everything, laughing when he sees you do a little happy dance back in your seat.

The rest of the evening is pleasant, with the boys continuing to drink after eating, moving the party inside to sing their hearts out on karaoke. Minho sits next to you the entire night, occasionally throwing his arm around you, playfully holding your hand and making sure you are comfortable. You sing along with Seungmin and Jisung from time to time, giving all the high notes to the boys to hit. 

You were having a good time, and it was fun to be with your friends under one roof again. 

When it hits close to midnight, you gather the trash and start to clean up around the house when you notice the liveliness dying down. Seungmin is still singing softly through the mic, while Jisung and Chan are dozing off after getting incredibly drunk. 

"You didn't have to do that." Minho drags himself into the kitchen, watching you wash the last of the dishes with a huge trash bag next to you.

"It's okay. It wasn't much anyway." You chuckle as you set aside the last dish on the drying rack and shake off your hands. "Could you do me a small, teensy weensy favor?" He crosses his arms and leans against the counter.

"Depends. What's in it for me?" You laugh and playfully push him.

"Please take out the trash."

"Hm, but you don't think I'm serious, huh?" He playfully smirks. "What's in it for me?" He steps closer and challenges you.

"Minho." You whine. "Please?" He puckers his lips. He's feeling a little bold tonight because of the alcohol, but he also can't say that he hasn't been yearning to do this— sober or not. And he doesn't let up. But, you find it cute how he's being persistent.

One kiss wouldn't hurt, no?

So, you tiptoe and give the guy his little kiss. He immediately blushes, ears turning red in color before he clears his throat and grabs for the trash bag.

"Will that do it?"

"Maybe. But, since you're so cute, I'll take this out anyway." You roll your eyes just as he walks out to the back and heads for the garbage bin. Seungmin is starting to simmer on the mic once Minho comes back in and washes his hands. He turns off the machine and heads to his room, giving you a big bear hug and bidding his goodnights. He says he can't wait to sleep and he hopes you'll be able to sleep well in Jisung's bed since he's knocked out on the couch.

"Do you need anything before you go to bed?"

"No. I'm just going to wash up and change. I'll probably fall asleep as soon as I get to Jisung's bed." You tell Minho. He nods, giving you a quick hug and another kiss on the head before sending you off with a 'goodnight.' You quickly wash up and get ready for bed, changing into a crewneck and matching sweats to sleep in. Stepping out into the hallway, you see Minho's door cracked open with his tv illuminating parts of his room. You let out a breath before officially parting ways— walking into Jisung's room that is clean and tidy [for once]. You open his window a bit before drawing the covers back, slipping into his bed and sending your uncle a goodnight message.

Too bad you aren't sleepy as expected. Your body feels exhausted, but your mind is awake. You toss and turn a few times, grabbing at your phone to watch a few random vlogs to try and make yourself sleepy.

But, an hour passes— close to two— and you're still not sleepy. Though, you do find yourself needing to use the bathroom again.

The house is quiet.

Somewhat.

Jisung and Chan are still passed out in the living room, with snores bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout their entire house; Seungmin is sleeping soundly in his room, probably letting his music continue to lull him into a deep sleep.

As you quietly pad down the hallway and into the bathroom, you notice Minho's door still slightly ajar— lights from his TV reflecting off of the floor. You quickly relieve yourself in the bathroom and freshen up a bit, debating on whether or not you should bother Minho at this time of night.

What else do you have to lose? Sleep wasn't finding you, and apparently, it wasn't finding Minho either.

You give three soft knocks on his door before Minho lets out a small 'yeah?' on the other side— giving you the green light to poke your head through the crack and ask:

"Playing a game and watching tv?" You giggle as you glance between his computer screen and TV.

"I was, in between." He chuckles as you awkwardly stand off to the side and softly shut his door. "What're you doing awake?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep and I saw the TV lights as I was going through the bathroom. I could go if you're gonna sleep?"

"No, it's okay." He pats his bed. "Sit and get comfortable. I just wasn't expecting you to be on the other side of the door, but I'm very glad it is you and not them bothering me." You chuckle.

"If you say so." You sit criss-crossed on his bed, letting your crewneck sleeves slip over your hands. Minho has Into the Spiderverse playing on his TV, his computer already shutting down and going into sleep mode. "Did you put this on?" You point at the screen.

"Mhm, it's the one movie series I don't mind re-watching."

"Nice." You focus on the movie for a bit, trying to pick up the pieces as to where the story was headed.

"Did you have fun today?" You glance at Minho before returning your attention to the tv.

"Yeah, I did. It was nice to draw and relax outside. Did you? It seemed like you guys had a blast playing."

"Mhm, sure did." Minho plops onto his bed and rests against his headboard, his arm lazily settling behind you with his hand on the bed. "I can change it, if you want?"

"No, you can keep it on." You give him a tiny smile before wiggling a little closer into his arm. "Minho?"

"Hm?" He hums when you turn back to look at him. You adjust your position on the bed, and Minho is able to rest his hand comfortably on the small of your back with the way you're angled. 

"Did you need to tell me something earlier? At the park?"

"Mm." He squints his eyes and furrows his brows. He knows the answer is 'yes,' but his instant response happens to be— "No. I just.. like looking at you." Your eyes soften at his sudden [and unexpected] response. "Helps me remember you're real." You look at him, stare at him, for a good while, trying to read his body language and expression. 

He is unreadable.

But, the one thing you do know is that you feel something for Minho. Almost like love, something that runs deeper.

"What do you feel when you look at me?" You ask softly, hand grabbing at his arm so that you can trace the faint lines on his palm. 

"What do I feel when I look at you?" Minho repeats before swallowing the lump in his throat because he knows he should probably be honest— but he's conflicted on how deep he's willing to go. 

Because he feels a lot when he sees you. He just doesn't wanna scare you or overwhelm you.

"Mhm." You look at him and he nods.

"Alot— I," He pauses, trying to figure out how he should put this. He didn't think he'd have to touch up on this now, but it's here and he's struggling. Moreso afraid than anything. He feels a whirlwind of emotions, but he'll focus on the positive because they outweigh everything else. How does he explain that he has always loved you, and doesn't think that has ever changed? Despite his period of stupidity, his lack of self-awareness. "I feel.. warmth? I feel attached. Adoration. Appreciation." He pauses again before looking you in the eyes. "Love."

"Love?" You face him a little more. "You feel love when you see me?"

"I do." He licks his lips before sitting up to feel closer to you. "It's always been that way." Your eyes widen a bit, but he can tell you're starting to shy away from all the things he's been saying. He means it though, he really does. You watch as he raises his hand to gently brush the hair out of your face and tuck it back behind an ear.  His hand falls to your cheek, thumb caressing the surface before he lets out a small sigh. "You taught me all about it."

"I did?" You respond close to a whisper, now watching Minho's eyes drift from yours, down to your nose— to your lips. No other question comes to mind, being that you're drawn into this sudden force of attraction that's pulling you two closer, and closer, together.

And Minho knows; god, he fucking knows this is terrible. But, he's so caught up in this moment, in you. There is the devil on his shoulder, the majority of him that is screaming to keep going. Because he wants to love you so badly, to take this chance and do you right this time around. No distractions, nothing to stop him. He loves you, he has always loved you— despite his stupidity.

Then, there is the angel on the other; a small part of him that is screaming to stop what he's feeling so that he can just be honest and be upfront about the past, give you what you deserve to work off of even though he wants to start 'fresh.' 

You're like a planet, all definitions astronomical. You deserve the world, and then some.

"You did." He says lowly. "Always." He pauses, lips inches away from yours. 

"I hope that never changes." Though, you are his bestfriend before anything, before whatever the past holds, before whatever this history has written you two to be; Minho was also like love to you, and you didn't think there was any other word to describe it.

"I could never look at you differently, Y/N. No matter what." You cup his cheeks and make him meet your eyes once again. It falls silent for a moment, a comfortable silence.

You should've seen it coming.

You can't really remember how quick it happened, or who made the move first, but you do remember feeling fireworks. 

Butterflies. 

A bolt of electricity down your body—

Minho's lips are on yours. For a second, you inch back in surprise. You can see Minho starting to regret his decision and you don't want him to get to that point. 

Because you don't regret that, and you probably won't regret what happens next.

You chase after his lips for another sweet kiss that he gladly takes. He lingers there for awhile before adjusting, allowing him to have more room to kiss you like he's been meaning to, like he's been yearning just as long as you have.

It feels so brand new, yet so familiar at the same time.

So natural.

He tries not to break the kisses for too long, even as he gently lays you back against his pillows and adjusts the covers— hovering over you and keeping his body close to yours. He continues because he feels your need behind your lips, the way you hungrily chase after him to close any distance. Almost like you can't be away for a second, like you'd lose him at the tip of your fingers.

Just like he's felt with you.

You do briefly pull away for a breather, your lips swollen and so majestic to look at while Minho continues to eye the rest of your features. He plants a kiss on your scars before taking his lips down to your neck, gently sucking at the surface before soothing it with his lips again. The need, want, for him continues to build when you feel him against you— every movement tickling your core and making you crave for his touch, for him.

"Y/N." He calls for you in between kisses, moving near your ear as his fingers fiddle with the waistband of your sweats. "Is this okay? Just tell me if you want me to stop and I'll stop."

"Keep going." He meets your gaze as you give him a shy, reassuring nod. He gives you another peck on the lips, hand now tugging your sweats down— tossed off to the side of the bed. At this point, you expect yourself to be nervous. You should feel nervous. But, you don't. Not an ounce of it. And it's probably because of the way Minho delicately touches you, kisses you, holds you.

You let out a small gasp against him when you feel his thumb pressed against your sensitive, clothed nub. He works in slow, circular motions, adding onto the pressure bubbling in your core. Satisfied with your reaction to his touch, he gives your thigh a squeeze before tugging your panties down. Minho's buried at the crook of your neck with your hands tangled at the ends of his hair, fingers now working their way into you at a slow, steady space.

"Minho. Need you." He hears before you let out a tiny whimper, body aching to feel more of him. He presses a kiss to your neck before adjusting to grab a condom at his nightstand. He's made sure he's tested and clean [mainly for his own sake], but tonight this feels different— he feels the need to take care of you, to be gentle, to be delicate. 

To love on you properly. 

This is where the universe has brought you two; this moment in time.

He fiddles with the condom for a bit before he's back to looking at you with the most adoration in his eyes. Soft, but so many feelings screaming to be let out. 

"Are you sure about this?" He asks, and you simply reply with a nod. He lets out a shaky breath, lips grazing against yours just as you feel him slowly enter. There's a slight burn at the contact but nothing unbearable, nothing that settles for too long, until he bottoms out and tries to get used to the feeling. His eyes are locked onto yours as he adjusts to find a steady rhythm, listening to your soft moans and whines just as he's slightly picking up the pace. 

You look so beautiful underneath him.

So right, so perfect.

"You're so pretty. So perfect for me." You hear him mutter against your ear, hands tugging at his hair as you find the courage to move with him and match his movements. He's wrapped up into you just as you with him, so wrapped up that he continues to praise you with sweet nothings; peppering your lips, face, neck with feathery kisses the hold so much behind them. His thumb finds his way back down to your clit, massaging tenderly until he feels you wiggling in his grasp. You feel the heat rising to your cheeks when you feel how quick you'll reach your high, but everything about this feels too good; feels too right.

"Minho— I'm gonna—" You pant out, chest heaving up and down as he's thrusting deeply and hitting all the right spots. You can't even form the rest of your sentence before you feel the immense wave of pleasure crashing over you. Minho watches your response, slipping out of his grasp when he feels your walls squeezing every bit of him. He gives it a good two, three more thrusts before he's unraveling; buried at the crook of your neck as he lets himself go into the condom.

"Are you okay?" He asks and meets your eyes once he's gathered himself. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, I'm okay." You reassure him, and he pecks you on the lips. He disposes of the condom and grabs a few tissues to help clean you up and get you comfortable in his bed. He lays beside you after shutting the tv and lights, arm draped across the pillow as you lay on it and press your back against him. 

It falls into a quiet, comfortable silence again— one where you can listen to each other breathe, one where you can just feel and be in peace together.

Soothing.

"Hey." He says behind you, kissing the back of your head. You turn to face him, eyes slowly feeling heavy. "Are you comfortable?"

"Of course." You sleepily giggle. "I might fall asleep soon."

"Sleep."

"Goodnight?" He chuckles.

"Goodnight, princess." You snuggle against him some more and shut your eyes. It doesn't take long before Minho can tell that you've fallen asleep with the way your lips are slightly parted, breathing now at a soft, resting pace. Minho feels comfortable, feels safe.

Minho feels like love.

He doesn't fall asleep right away. Instead, he watches you sleep in his arms, kissing your forehead once more. He's trying to relish in the moment, but he's also wondering if this was the right way to go. Maybe he got wrapped up too into this and he should've waited. 

Things happened so fast.

He needed to tell you. 

You two have so much to talk about.

What does matter in this moment, is that he has always loved you and that has never changed. Despite his moment of stupidity, his lack of self-awareness.

Love.

"I love you." He whispers down to you before he finally feels like he can shut his eyes and try to get some sleep.

You, like a planet, all definitions astronomical; heavenly.

You, are love.

♡ taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @asjkdk @hoes4lino @skzddicted @skzho @edgaralienpoe @harui-zen @bestleeknowstan @havenwithleeknow @septicrebel @heesdazed @borahae-reads @yoontaethings @pearbunny @bintific @lukeys-giggle @ajxreads @everglowdaisies @allaboutsan @endzii23 @leeknowsramen @heres-your-ramen2000 @morningstardada @mal-lunar-28 @downbadreading @lilysophie @feelikecinderella @urmomma0324 @ddazed-lhs @djeniryuu @melanctton @i8rsie @maru-matt @sleepyleeji @taerifin @nattisbored @jisunglyricist @m111nho @drhsthl @nixtape-foryou @arminseas @guiltycoco @syuuji @sulkygyu @cadihyo @reianagarcia @leeknowyah @smndjdufuehr @dprkbyn @xxibreinaxx @mxnsxngie @reiheis @mellowmentalitydragon

[desert-fern]

A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 5: Flyboy On My Mind

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death (it’s a training exercise, so not really), guns of the paintball variety, 'hostage taking' (Please let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 2.8k

For reference, 2100 is 9 pm to all of you who don't know or use 24 hour time.

Read on Wattpad or AO3

Masterlist >> Part 4 >> Part 6

===

Because Bear was nice, she gave her people the day to complete the intel searches and paperwork that was necessary for the mission. But she didn’t account for the Dagger pilots catching up to them and spending the next hour chatting and exchanging stories. “Bear, you good?” Bug asked, nudging her Commander in the side. 

“Hmmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Bear said, checking her watch. “Just keeping an eye on the time. We have dark training tonight, so I hope that y’all get to your paperwork soon.” She shared a grin with her second, knowing full well how shitty late night dark training could get. 

“Aww come on Bear!” Hangman’s complaint rose above the din of the group. “Let them have some fun.” 

The woman just raised an eyebrow before replying. “Last time I checked, you pilots had paperwork too. Or did you forget?” There was a playful edge to her voice, one that teased yet still commanded. 

“We do, but Mav gave us the day to finish it,” Fanboy chimed in, peeking around Coyote to be seen and heard. 

“Mav also gave permission for you to help us in a few drills over the next few weeks. Ones that require your active participation.” 

A groan rose from the pilots, interweaving with the snickers from her Seals. It made her smile, watching her team get along with the pilots. And if she was being honest, the view wasn’t terrible. The sunlight glinted off of muscular, toned arms and shoulders, and if she was being honest, one pilot was set apart from the others. The light turned his blond hair into something resembling spun gold, green eyes hidden behind sunglasses that had slid down his nose. The man had a reason to be cocky, Bear thought as she stood and observed. But this was not the time, nor the place for that. “Team 3, say your goodbyes. We will see the pilots tonight, at 2100,” she spoke, eyes glinting in amusement behind her own sunglasses. 

Hangman maintained his eye contact with the Seal Team Commander. He’d caught her staring and shot her a wink in response. All the response he received came from a crooked smirk and the woman uncrossing her arms to usher her team away. “Damn…” he muttered as he followed her retreating figure. 

“Like what you see?” Coyote teased, clapping his friend on the back. “You might have a staring problem.” 

Jake huffed. “Can you blame me? Look at her.” 

Phoenix cleared her throat, making Jake freeze. “Really? This woman just handled a meeting like a fucking boss, has excellent control over her team, but is also extremely fair and is genuinely a decent person. And your dumbass is like ‘she’s hot’?” The woman in front of him shook her head in disappointment. “You’re lucky that I found my forever girl, otherwise you’d have some serious competition, Bagman.” 

Bear wasn’t quite out of earshot when Phoenix tore into Hangman, making her snicker. “Take them to the room we’re usually in, Bug. I have a flyboy to straighten out,” she remarked with a mischievous grin.

Her second mirrored the grin. “Sounds good, Bear. Be gentle with his ego.” 

Bear turned to walk back towards the group. “Whoever snagged you is a very lucky woman, Phoenix,” she said once she’d gotten close. 

“Shit…” Hangman exhaled, making Rooster laugh. 

“You're screwed, man,” the older man said with a chuckle. “Bear.” 

“Rooster, give me a moment with him?” 

Glancing at his friend, Rooster gave her a knowing smirk before walking off to rejoin his group, each of them stealing quick glances in her direction, amusement dancing in their eyes. 

“You know,” Bear began. “I don’t mind you looking, but I’ll be damned if my ass is my best quality.” She knew that the look on her face was teasing, but Jake still looked chastised. 

“Well then, Teddy. You should know that it isn’t just your ass,” Jake flirted back. But it was a lot less self-assured than usual. 

A smile crossed her lips. “Oh yeah? Like what?” 

“I don’t think we have enough time for that, sweetheart.” 

“Careful there, Jake. Can’t have someone overhearing you, especially since I outrank you and I’m in charge of our mission,” came her playful reply. But under her sunglasses, her cheeks and ears had flushed pink at his words. 

Jake’s face heated at her words. She never used his name, always his call sign or rank, so it felt like a step in the right direction. “Well you know where to find me when all is said and done.” With one final wink and appreciative glance, he turned and walked back to the group. Jake could feel her eyes burning holes between his shoulders, before she finally walked off. 

“Smooth bastard,” Bear mumbled as she followed after her team. “Making me feel things.” Her blush must have still been present when she walked into the room because a few chuckles sounded upon her entrance. 

“All good, boss lady?” FAK asked. They had a mischievous look in their eyes and from experience, Bear knew that that was just begging for teasing. “You’re looking a little pink there.” 

Bear shrugged. “It’s warm outside. What can I-” 

“You done eye-fucking the walking Ken doll?” Hazard spat, cutting her off. The man looked thoroughly put out by the whole situation. 

Her stare had him backing down pretty quickly. “Watch your tone, Lieutenant. I am your superior, so you would do well to get over whatever prejudice you hold around women in charge. And who I, as you said, eye-fuck is none of your business.” The edge in her tone left no room for argument and the air had quickly become suffocating as Hazard stalked back to his seat, glowering at the floor.

Hazard grumbled something about women and incompetence before Fireball reached over and slapped the back of his head. 

“Well then. That took a turn,” Bear remarked casually. “Finish up the forms, and Flare, send out that message to your contacts for that data, and you all can have the rest of the day to do whatever you need to. I need you back and dressed for night ops training at 2100, sound good?” 

“Yes Ma’am.” 

“Great. Get to work, I’ll be in my office if there are any questions or concerns.” With one final glance around the room, Bear left, shutting the door behind her. Walking down the hall, she had a chance to ponder Hangman’s words. You know where to find me echoed through her head, making her curse silently. That smooth fucker practically had her tripping over her own tongue whenever he was close. It was only thanks to the Bear personna that she had cultivated over her years in service that allowed her to flirt and tease back with minimal blushing. She sat down with a groan, burying her face in her hands as she thought about the mountain of papers to sift through. Guess there was no time like the present to get started. 

===

It was some time later that a knock sounded at her door. Glancing up from her papers, Bear checked her watch before calling out “Come in!” 

“Commander, I was hoping to go over a few things before night training tonight. Just so my people know what to expect,” Maverick said. 

“Of course, take a seat,” Bear gestured at one of the chairs by her desk. “What did you want to know?” 

Maverick nodded. “Just whatever you can tell me. I’ve had nonstop questions all afternoon and didn’t want to send them to harass you. All I said was that you would explain it to them tonight.” 

Bear chuckled “No worries at all, Maverick. It’s a hostage rescue scenario just to test the skills my people already have, basically a refresher course.” She gestured at the stack of folders on her desk before continuing “They will get more difficult as time goes on, but your pilots will likely be hostages or maybe poorly trained enemy forces, it really depends. If I decide on the latter, I will come and meet with your people and give them very basic weapons training.” 

“Are actual weapons being used for this?” 

“Oh god no. Sorry, I should have made that clear,” Bear replied hastily. “We basically have these retrofitted paintball guns that look like our service weapons to use in these exercises. The worst injury you can get from one of those is a gnarly bruise.” 

“Okay good. I was worried. I really don’t need Hangman or any of them really being weapons trained,” the pilot laughed. 

Bear gave him a grin. “That is a legitimate concern of mine too. I just won’t tell them that the skills are applicable to real weapons.” 

“Please don’t. Oh, and do they need to be in uniform?” 

“Nope, civilian clothes will work. Just make sure that they are comfortable and easy to move in.”

Maverick glanced around the office almost suspiciously before stage-whispering “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but thank fuck.”

She laughed. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

“I think we’re good to go,” came his response. “I will see you and your team at 2100.” 

“So you will. See you then.” 

He slipped out the door leaving her to the quiet office. It was nearing 1800 and she still hadn’t eaten, so she figured that taking a quick break wouldn’t hurt. 

Stretching as she stood, Bear grabbed her phone, wallet, and keys before leaving, locking the door behind her. The air was still warm when she ventured outside, the setting sun coloring the sky a beautiful orange that bathed the base in swaths of the color. 

The mess hall was quiet. Only a few stragglers remained on base, she noted. It took her no time to grab something to eat and she settled herself at the table in the far corner of the room. Bear hadn’t been there long before a loud clatter rang out, shattering the bubble of stillness she had been reveling in. 

Jolting up, Bear glanced over to watch a new recruit pick up the cutlery that had hit the ground. Willing her heart to slow its frantic beating, she went back to her food. 

Time slowly ticked by and eventually Bear realized that she had to get going, much to her chagrin. The peace had been nice, but she had a warehouse to arrange and equipment to locate. 

===

2100 came quickly. Night had fallen and only a little residual light cast a haze over the warehouse. Dressed in full tactical gear, Bear stood outside the large warehouse they used for indoor raids. Most of her team had arrived, all dressed identically to her in a deep dark blue gear, helmets tucked under arms as they stood and chatted. “Bear!” 

Turning towards the voice, she saw Bob and Flare leading the group of pilots over. They had all dressed in loose fitting, comfortable clothing, making it look like they were ready for bed. “Bob. Daggers. Welcome to your first night exercise,” she said with a grin. “You’re right on time, I was just about to start the explanation for tonight’s proceedings.” 

“Awesome. Glad we didn’t miss it,” Phoenix replied. She was excited for this, ready to see her friend in her element. “Been looking forward to this all day, haven’t we boys?” 

“Hell yeah.” 

“Totally.” 

“Damn straight.” 

“Great. Let’s get into it.” Bear clapped her hands and waited for the pilots to approach. “My people, same teams as last week. Platoons three and four are our hostage takers, the red team. Which makes everyone left to make up our blue team. Pilots, you guys have the honor of playing our hostages. Make sure you grab a vest before heading in there,” she told them, pointing at the pile of vests by her feet. “Hostages, hostage takers, head on in. Check your scenario, make sure you know how this plays out. Daggers, there are cards inside that have ages and certain characteristics that you need to remember. Once you have everything, fasten the card to the vest. I’ll be by in a second. Does that sound good to everyone?” 

“Yes Ma’am.” 

 “Red team, take your prisoners away,” Bear announced with a broad smile. Hangman had a stupid grin on his face, clearly loving the opportunity to get this close to Bear, seeing how she worked. 

Once the group had disappeared inside the building, Bear turned to the remaining platoons. “Alright. You know the drill. Bottom to top. Stick together. Two strategy attempts this round. No heroes, and no killing hostages. The goal here is to get everyone out alive, you know, the usual. I follow Bug’s lead. I know what has to happen, and therefore I make no calls, I follow what she has,” she informed them, glancing around at their faces. “You have until I come back to make a plan.” 

Bear pivoted on her heel and strode into the building, weaving through the maze set up inside to reach the open space on the topmost floor in the makeshift layout. “Flare! You ready?” 

“Hell yeah!” The woman yelled back, head poking out around the corner to watch her Commander approach. “You finally let me be the mean one, not Shrike.” 

“I did, so don’t abuse your power,” Bear laughed. Flare had always had a dramatic personality. It didn’t show much, but when given a role during the exercises, she always made it work. “Or else I’m giving it back to her.” 

Flare let out a feigned gasp. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Oh I would and you know it,” Bear retorted. “Is your team confident with your method?” 

“Yep. We got this.” 

“Great. Let me check in on the ‘hostages’,” Bear told her, throwing air quotes around the last word for emphasis. “Gotta make sure everything is all good on their end.” 

“No worries, boss lady. We tucked them through there,” Flare told her, pointing at the small opening in the corner of the room. 

“Maverick, you guys have yourselves sorted in there?” She called out. 

Silence. Then a small “maybe” sounded making her snort. 

“I’m coming in.” The sight made her laugh and turn away for a moment. All 13 of the pilots were crammed in the tight space, forcing Fanboy to be sprawled on top of his teammates. “Okay. I guess I thought some of you were smaller than you actually are.” 

“Yeah, there is definitely no room in here,” Rooster replied, gesturing with his head as his hands, which, like everyone else’s, were tied loosely in front of him. 

Bear hummed in amusement, crouching down to peer at them. “Before we get started, do you guys have any questions?” 

“Ummm yeah I have one. Why are we tied up?” It was too dark to make out the speaker, but it sounded like Payback. 

“Because you guys are playing your roles, and also you are not allowed to fight back. The bonds make sure of that,” Bear answered honestly. “It’s for your safety as well as ours.” 

Hangman, who was settled right next to the opening where Bear was crouching, spoke up. “You sure it isn’t just because you don’t want to get hurt?” He was looking at her face, but his gaze wandered down, down, down to her legs and how her tac pants were pulled taut across her muscular thighs. His eyes fell to her sidearm holstered to her leg, giving the impression and warning that she was far more dangerous than she appeared. If he wasn’t already turned on seeing Bear in her gear, the gun definitely did it. It finally made sense to him why women (and some men, let’s be honest) were all over the uniform, because if he looked even close to a fraction as hot as she did, it was a miracle any thought happened at all. 

“Watch the ego, Flyboy. Mouthing off might not be the best idea in this scenario. Flare gets to be mean, and she may or may not… react strongly,” Bear chided, but her face split into a grin. She caught his appreciative gaze, especially noting his fixation on her thighs and it made that small part of her brain start whooping and hollering at the fact that Jake had noticed her. 

Phoenix called out from the back of the room “What did the tactic thing on the back of the card mean?” 

“Oh, right. That’s the communication tactic that the rescue team needs to use in order to gain your trust and get you out safely. Some of them should say things like ‘proof of affiliation’, which just means proving who they say they are. Or they might say ‘female interaction only’, that one is self-explanatory. Does that clear it up?” 

“Yep.” 

“Great. I did forget to mention that you guys are allowed to talk quietly, and that live video of our movements will be played on the wall here for you guys to see. Was there anything else before we got started?” Bear asked one final time, standing up to lean against the entryway. “No? Awesome.” The woman gave them a wide smile, so very unlike the demeanor she used when first interacting with Hangman only days earlier. 

He was in for a real treat.

===

A/N: I decided to give you all a treat! Thanks again to @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s and @dakotakazansky for giving me your feedback!

Any errors are mine though 😂

Taglist: @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @dakotakazansky @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @twsssmlmaa @roosterforme @footprintsinthesxnd @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @eli2447 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @thegoddessc @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris

[brucewaynehater101]

I love your ideas for the au where all the batkids go back on time. I keep imagining little Tim in his computer just monitoring everything. I am sure the league would be surprised that a group so young managed something like that. Also, how would they explain bringing Damian😅. Would Dick just appear with him? Would he hide him with the Titans for a while? And Jason doing his best to distract Bruce is just hilarious but everyone values his sacrifice. 🤭

Jason is doing his best to distract Bruce (Alfred probably knows Dick is up to something with Jason but has no clue he's going to be welcoming at least 3 new grandchildren). Poor Bruce is having to replace so much furniture after Jason accuses him of being a creeper and destroys something. Bruce is trying his hardest to ensure his new ward feels safe and welcome.

While Jason is having mixed feelings (pre-Jason's death, Bruce is much softer and kinder than Jason remembers or any of the later kids get to experience), he's also enjoying the panic on Bruce's face.

Tim is clacking away at the computer as Steph points out clues he missed, feeds him french fries/chips/gummy worms, and updates the group chat.

As far as Damian, Dick just pops up and claims that they found this kid on the Titans' mission. Since the kid was being pursued by assassins and is too small to remember Bruce is Batman, Dick decided to take him straight to his dad. Also, doesn't he look startling like Bruce?

Also, don't mind this other kid Dick has brought with him. Her name is Cass, and she was also running away from the assassins. She seems nice and is now Dick's younger sister (he will cry if Bruce tries to send her away. It's an effective threat).

For some reason, Jason and Cass get along like two stray alley cats. They seem to both like and hate each other (they are siblings, but Jason's murders cause them to sometimes brawl).

Bruce still doesn't know that Barbara, Tim, Steph, and Duke all helped with this mission. Nobody corrects his assumption that the Titans provided the backup.

[merci-bitch]

please write some headcanons with Miranda’s P!

Sure thing!

Absolutely love the Devil Wears Prada and Miranda is just <3

Not my gif!

- Let’s say you’re a photographer for Runway

- And also Miranda’s

- You’ve been there for a while, a long while before Andrea

- You started as a photographer, Nigel found you

- Made you his new project to present for Miranda first

- You were shitting yourself obvs

- It’s thee Miranda Priestly

- You were quite shy, who wouldn’t be in front of the biggest fashion icon ever??

- But when you then later showed her your portfolio she was interested

- You were hired as the new photographer

- Working 24/7 like everyone else

- Emily liked you

- Quite a lot

- You were doing good, and Miranda liked your work, always left little notes on the side of the photos you’d taken

- You’d spent a lot of time together

- Nigel obvs played match maker

- Cocky bastard

- One night you came with the book, Emily had turned in sick at the last possible moment, so you offered

- You had a portfolio to show her either way

- So you went in, left the dry cleaning and then heard her call for Emily

- She was stunned to see you

- A little annoyed too

- It quickly went away as you handed her the book and portfolio

- And then the rest is history

- First time arriving when Andrea was her second assistant, well

- She didn’t know who you were

- Told you that you couldn’t just walk in without an appointment

- So you left with a little smile on your lips

- Went to Nigel, told him all

- Boy

- He was sure Andy was getting fired

- Despite her cold and strict attitude to the world, Miranda is a gentle lover

- When you’re at home, she calls you by pet names

- Darling, dear for example

- She’s still has a hard shell, but she’s ever so soft with her daughters and it is a wonder to witness

- Small touches as she passes you

- HUGE gift gives

- Obviously

- She absolutely loves how close you are with her girls

- Was such a relief when her daughters loved you as much as she did

- Of course Irv was fuming when he found out about the relationship

- Wanted to fire you

- Miranda stood her ground

- With backup from a lot of people

- Surprisingly the press was nice about the relationship

- Only after a few months of course

- The first few weeks was awful

- But it got better

- The internet calls you “power couple”

- You make her laugh like no other

- You really turned her world upside down

- Nigel is of course smug

- He is the reason you two found each other of course

- He likes to remind Miranda about it

- Likes to tease you about starring at Miranda

- You two just fit together like two puzzle pieces

- Of course there’s an age difference

- But it doesn’t define your relationship

- Miranda still does criticise you about your fashion choices

- Practically begs you sometimes to let her dress you in the morning

- Her children have better fashion sense than you do

- Loves to tease you senseless

- She knows she can make you weak to your knees with just one single glare

- She feels exceptionally powerful

[likedovesinthewindd]

hii love may i request hcs for a big brother figure hobie with a sweet innocent reader, how would he protect them and show his love etc <3

of course, this is so cute!

★ ok so I'm imagining you're also a spider-person and a part of the society. you're a bit younger, and one of the newer recruits.

★ and you'll admit you were quite intimidated by hobie at first, but after talking to him you realized how nice he actually his. you were suprised at what a light personality he had, despite his very strong beliefs and views. he definitely wasn't afraid to be himself— unapologetically so—and you respected him for that, looked up to him.

★ you've come to learn that he's an extremely tactile person as well; he'd always greet you with a fist bump or even a hug when the two of you haven't seen each other in a while.

★ you weren't someone who enjoyed confrontation or disputes, so whenever someone did something you didn't particularly like, you'd bite your tongue to avoid any fighting. hobie didn't take with that though. if the two of you were together and he saw someone messing w you or being mean, he'd definitely be giving them shit for it.

★ he didn't really enjoy working with other people, but he enjoyed joining you on missions and vice-versa. he'd always say he just wanted to keep you company, but he also wanted to look out for you. he knew you were more than capable of looking after yourself, but it didn't hurt to have backup, right?

★ he's def your biggest hypeman too! you could've completed the smallest job, but best believe hobie's gonna be hyping you up like no other (i mean c'mon yall saw how he was hyping up miles in the mumbattan scene)

★ now if you're just a civilian and not a spider-person:

★ I'm imagining you end up in a somewhat similar situation as gwen, needing somewhere to stay for a while, and hobie's willing to help.

★ and of course he'd help you, that's just who he is, that's what he believes in. and remember, my guy didn't grow up the most comfortable so he knows what it's like.

★ maybe you get back on your feet and find a place of your own, but he still visits you frequently. checks up on you to see if you're still alright and when he's free, the two of you would go out and do whatever, or throw some of your scraps together and whip up a dinner at whoever's house.

★ when he's on patrol he'll makes sure to go and check in on you.

★ even if you don't necessarily end up in a rough patch—the two of you just somehow ending up friends—he's still looking out for you.

★ in terms of how he shows his love, i def think it's w quality time and acts of service. whenever he's free he'd always hang out with you and catch up on how you're doing. he enjoys helping you out whenever he can too bc he knows you'd do the same, no questions asked. you'd help patch him up after a rough night, or go over to his to cook for him, and he lets you know how much he appreciates it with his time and company.

★ he'd also tell you in words, small bits you'd catch here and there. 'ave to look out for each other, yeah? casually thrown into conversation.

★ it doesn't matter if you're not related by blood, he sees you as his family, and he always looks out for his family because that's what being punk is about.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Tiny ideas 2

----

1. Danny, in his new and very human black and white vigilante outfit runs past Penguin who had gotten soaked when a car full of hooligans wearing clown masks ran threw a puddle and splashed him.

Danny, not knowing who this was, tapped him on the shoulder as he ran past, running his intangibility through the man and letting the water fall off him, leaving him nice and dry again.

Penguin makes note to pay both back in very different ways.

----

2. Phantom, having been exorcisized from Amity Park and essentially banished and unable to return, roams around the multiverse looking for something to do.

Upon coming across the creepiest doll hes ever seen in a trash bin, he decides to mess with some local bat themed vigilantes and possesses the doll.

His first victim is Red Robin. Danny in all his creepy doll glory toddles out from behind a chimney as his target is running across the rooftop in his direction. Birdy stopped dead (heh) and stared at the doll.

Danny picked good. The doll was porcelain and cracked, missing one of its glass eyes and moss growing out of the empty socket and around various parts of its body. Its dress was once a lovely blue or green velvet but was now patchy and worn.

He turned the dolls head around at an unnatural angle to fix its gaze on the vigilante, its frozen polite smile adding to its eerieness, and in a moment of impulse said, "I'll see you soon." In the most creepiest little girl voice he could manage, using his ghost powers to make the words seem to drift upon the air towards the hero.

And just like that, doll Danny was gone.

RR almost frantically contacted oracle, "Did you see that?!"

"RR your signal cut out for a few minutes, backup should arrive soon. What happened?"

-----

3. Jason has been getting followed around by this wierd kid who is prime Brucie adoption bait. Kid kept jumping out of nowhere without anyone being able to sense him to ask him the weirdest questions (Damian was so startled that he nearly stabbed the kid on reflex. Not that he'd ever admit it).

The questions where things like, "Do you like books? What are your favorites? Can you cook? Do you like red heads? Do you like dogs? How opposed are you to having supervillian in-laws? What if they give you free experimental weaponry? ....how about some laser cannons and a jet?

Jason ends up getting kidnapped by this kid and dumped in from of this pretty girl as the kid tells her, "I went out and got you a boyfriend who won't try to murder you. Don't screw this up!" Before the kid ran out of the room.

Jazz was mortified.

Jason is still on the floor where he was deposited earlier, "So..." he begins, "I heard you like Jane Austin?"

-----

4. Phantom faked his death in front of the people of Amity Park, just to see how they would react to his passing and kind of in hopes of something changing. He couldn't keep sacrificing everything for these people, after all.

He did not like how the people reacted. Danny had to move away cause if he heard one more person say it was a good thing "that monster" died hes going to hurt someone.

Gotham seemed lovely this time of year and its one place that neither his parents or Vlad would visit. Vlad because if he tried anything at all the worlds greatest detective would ruin him and his parents because they once tried to hunt Batman and Robin only for Batman to terrify them to the point of never returning after they hurt his bird.

Danny got hired at Wayne Tech after submitting a wide range of devices but couldn't do much thanks to still being a minor. Thankfully Mr. Wayne was very generous and kept him housed and fed while he finished his online schooling and graduated early.

(Heavy angst for Danny.)

---

5. Danny hadn't seen Cujo in a while, which wasn't too unusual, but it have been a long time since hed seen his puppy and he was overdue a visit.

Danny pulled out his dog whistle, one normally used for emergencies and that Cujo would never ever ignore.

Only...Cujo didn't come. Now Danny goes on a journey to track down his missing dog. Following clues and trails across different realities, dimensions and universes to find his lost dog.

He did not expect to meet a bird themed vigilante along the way, not for them to insist he help him on his quest. Robin seemed very wary of the Infinite Realms the first time he entered them and had tons of questions. But bird boy was great company and Cujo would love him so Danny could deal.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Please can I have a Tommy x daughter fluffy fic where as her mums died she asks him to come with her to try on ballgowns with her and he doesn’t like a few for different reasons but he gets emotional when she finds the perfect one

Hey Anon,

Hope this does it justice - this request got me in the feels. Thanks for waiting. <3

Warnings: Teen drama, mentions of funerals and death - peaky related stuff

There were a lot of things you kept to yourself when it came to your father. Most of which Esme and Polly would wrangle out of you and give you advice for. 

You were close with each other the same way you suspected other fathers and daughters were. He was there to comfort you in his own way (mostly just holding you tightly) when you needed him, he gave you books to read and would try to remember to ask you questions about how you enjoyed them. 

He was away a lot for business but he always called you before bed to ask how your day was. Some moments when he’d drank to much you saw the pain in his eyes when he looked at you, a spitting image of your mother but with his eyes. 

You adored him, and rarely ever asked him for difficult things knowing he was always stressed. 

“Awe, you miss us, don't you? Next time we go you’ll be old enough to tag along. An extra week won't kill you darling.” Esme’s voice rang out over the phone and your stomach sank. You were in a proper situation now. You said your goodbyes but didn't tell her why her taking an extra week's vacation with Pol was a problem for you. 

You lit a cigarette and slid down the kitchen wall. They would be home the day of the big charity ball, not the type of event you could get a dress for the morning of. They must have forgotten that they’d promised to take you when they got back. You didn't blame them, this was the one time they got away from kids and the business.

You could ask… Lizzie? She hung around the family, worked for your dad, and seemed nice enough to you when you came by the office. She’d probably be able to help you.

You needed a backup plan, Linda still hadn’t forgiven you for an outburst you’d had at dinner a few weeks ago, but maybe John would help you? 

You thought about getting ready with Esme he’d always tell her what looked good. Well, mostly how he enjoyed the way it looked on her, but still Esme always looked very happy with his commentary. 

You got up and flicked your cigarette out the window before going to ask for a ride to the office.

You showed up and Lizzie greeted you with a large smile. 

“Here to see your dad are you?” 

“Well, I was actually - I -” The words got caught in your throat, she was far too pretty. Thinking of her seeing your awkward body in dresses made you shrink away. “Have you seen Uncle John?” You said quickly. 

“Should be in his office.” She gave you a look and you thanked her. You knocked on the door and his voice called out. 

“Hey kiddo,” he said looking up from a mess of papers. “Your da’s got me right tangled in this stupid paperwork. Give him a kick in the shin when you see him next will ya.” 

“Sure.” You laughed. “Guess you're pretty busy then?” 

“Be lucky if we survive another week with the hens gone.” He sighed, there was no way he’d be out of this mess any time soon, but maybe he could just tell you what to wear.

“What erm- What types of things does Esme wear that you like?” He looked confused by the question. 

“Trying to impress a lad then? Odd person to come to for advice on that.” He scratched the back of his head but before you could fix what you said he’d already carried on.

“Look if he doesn't like you as you are then there's no point in going after him. Gal’s seem to think we care about all the fuss when really - we’re going to see eve-” 

“What are you doing, love?” Your father's voice called from the doorway. Happier than ever to see him you sprang up from your seat and moved to give him a hug. Jarred by what you figured John was implying you decided to just pluck up the courage to ask him to go. 

“Get that shit done John, needs to be out by tomorrow morning,” John swore at him and you followed your father out of the room his arm steering you into his office. 

“What did you need from John?” He asked moving behind his desk. 

“Well, I didn't want to bother you.” 

“Trust me, love if it's worth asking, it’s not worthy of Johns's advice.” 

“Ah, well, I need a dress for the ball.” You stated, and he gave you a curious look. “Um, well it's my first time really going, for the dinner and dancing and everything.” You coughed awkwardly. For a moment you hoped that he would just understand where this was going and tell you he’d help you, but you looked at his face and knew he was lost as ever. 

“SO” you said a little too loudly. “I erm - need to get a proper dress, Polly and Esme said they would take me but they won't be back in time.” 

You brought your gaze from the wallpaper once more to still see him still looking confused. 

“You can have any dress you want, just give me the receipt.” He shrugged. 

‘No- I erm. I just- need someone to go with me.” You confessed sounding irritated. “I don't know what looks good - I’m not good at that type of stuff. John always tells Esme what he thinks about her dresses when we get ready so I figured he would be a good person to ask.” 

“I’ll take you.” He said uncomfortably. “We can go after-” He looked down at his schedule. “Can it wait till after dinner?” 

“Oh, yeah - thanks” 

“No problem,” He said with a nod looking only slightly put off. 

“I’ll head back to the house -” 

“I’ll grab you at 7” 

You gave him a nod and then left the office saying bye to Lizzie. 

Dinner was nice, you rarely ever went out to eat. You rambled on about a book you were reading and your dad followed along. Eventually, you started to tuck into your meal and he sighed. 

“So there's a boy then?” He asked looking pained.

“No?” You said startled with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. 

“No?” Tommy repeated looking at you with the look he gave when he felt you were lying. As a kid, you thought he had superpowers and could see in your mind. 

“No” You shook your head grabbing your glass of water. 

“John mentioned -” 

“He didn't understand what I was asking. Don't need to be interested in a boy just because I don't want to show up in front of all those people wearing something embarrassing.” You said defensively, face flushing. 

Tommy let out a hum and finished the last of his drink. Your last comment seemed to put him off even more. 

You finished up dinner and then headed to a fancy-looking shop. The sign on the door said closed but you followed behind your dad as he pushed the door open. 

The lady barely took notice of you as she shook your dad's hand, ensuring she would take care of anything he needs. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as she touched his arm. 

He turned to you “alright free rein of the place, go pick some out that you like. I’ll start on this side.” 

You almost wanted to laugh as if it was a joke but your father moved passed the woman and started on the far wall. She looked over your body and began pointing out some to try on. 

You thought about her suggestions and said you would try them to be polite. If you turned up looking like a frosted cupcake Esme would never let you hear the end of it. 

You moved to the long dresses and found a nice dark red one. It was a shimmery fabric but it was dark enough that it wouldn't bring too much attention. You had a feeling that it was the right one, but with the lower neckline you felt it might be a fight to take it home. You decided it was worth it and asked the woman to take it to the dressing room for you. 

You found another few that you liked well enough, all of them were black and made of various materials. 

You met back up with your dad in the lounge and saw him sipping another glass of amber liquid, a cigarette in his hand. He met your gaze and held his hands up in mock surrender.

“Wasnt much help out in the field but it’s only because I have faith in your abilities.” 

You gave him a smile, happy to see him in better spirits. You put the first one on and hated it immediately. It was much too tight and it would be impossible to dance in. 

“Not very practical.” You waddled out and you watched him point back to the dressing room sternly. “Alrighty then,” you murmured feeling embarrassed. 

You tried the cupcake one on next and fought to work up the courage to walk out in it. You struggled to get it through the doorway and your father actually laughed. 

A proper healthy loud laugh that was contagious. 

“I feel like Esme would take the piss for ages if I wore this.” You looked yourself over in the mirror.

“Not just Esme. Didn’t think it would be possible to make you look anything less than gorgeous. In that line of thinking it might not be so bad after all. Don’t want this mystery boy enjoying himself too much.” 

“Dad!” You snapped before fighting back into the dressing room. “There is no boy.” 

“If you say so.” 

You wore one of the black ones next. You walked out feeling comfortable, you thought the black would go with any jewelry and looked classy. 

You looked at your dad and his face twisted slightly. 

“No black.” His tone of voice took you off guard.

“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” you asked trying not to get worked up. 

“No black.” He said firmly and you knew better than to challenge him when he sounded like that. 

You went back into the room. 

“Ah - that leaves one left.” 

“Give it a go,” he called back.  

You pulled on the red one and loved it instantly. It was grown up, hugging you in all the right spots without showing too much skin. The color made your blue eyes seem electric. 

You liked it so much you didn't want to show it. What if he hated it as much as the black dress? Or thought it was stupid like the pink one. 

You took a deep breath and called out. “Don’t be mean.” Then stepped out. 

You looked at the mirror avoiding your father. It looked even better in the lighting. Eventually, the silence was too much. 

You watched him take the dress in and thought you saw tears in his eyes. You wanted to run back and hide. Why was he being so weird? Even if there was a boy, it’s not uncommon at this age. Heck, most of Esme’s sisters were married by 16. 

“That’s the one eh?” He finally said looking at you.

“Yeah. Think I look grown up, but not to - erm-  showy” 

“Grown up, is one way to put it.” He finished his drink and smiled at you. “I think you look lovely. Your mother has a necklace that will match with the color” He said softly. “-if you want to wear it.” He added hurriedly. For a long time, he thought her things might have been cursed, until one day he came home from a very long trip and said it was him that was cursed. You shivered remembering that night. You always avoided touching her things, her room untouched but not forgotten. 

“I would really like that.” You said feeling emotional, you realized that the panic was about wanting to look nice, but some of it was anger that your mother was not there to help you. “Did she wear this color then?” 

“Always red.” He nodded. 

“Ah - well, I can see why.” You looked back in the mirror. 

“Look - I know this sort of thing would have been more fun with Pol or Esme- and you probably miss your mum a lot these days. Lots of changes and whatnot.” He waved his hand uncomfortably. “But - well, I enjoyed this. I don’t mind being around for this stuff. I wouldn't have liked you more as a boy or anything like that” He cleared his throat. 

Tears started to spill over something you hadn't even realized you were worried about. 

“I love you.” You said. Felt strange standing on a platform saying it down to him as a saleswoman was probably judging them from the shadows somewhere. 

“Love you too.” 

On the ride home you both made jokes about different things, Arthur and John weren't very good at taking over for Pol and Esme and you enjoyed your dad’s commentary about trying to keep the place running. 

When things quieted down you finally felt that you needed to end this boy nonsense. 

“Dad?” You asked wondering how he kept the car straight while fumbling with getting a cigarette out and lighting it. 

“Yeah?” 

“There really isn't a boy, if there was John is the last person I would ask. One time he picked me up from school, years ago, and a boy, Tim Weatherby, had waved to me. He ran his car into the back of his parent's car three times before driving off.” 

You watched your father let out another laugh. “Always classy.” 

“I’d tell you first obviously. Esme would get too excited, and Pol would worry.” 

“And what would I do then Eh?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“Probably meet him and scare his pants off.” You answered honestly. 

“That’s a good thing then?”

“Obviously. If he comes back it's because he really likes me.” 

__________________________________

EXTRA - Tommy's POV 

Watching her walk out in a black dress made the fleeting moments of humor leave him. He sort of saw her in the gown but his mind flashed back to that scared little girl all dressed in black.

“No black.” He said slightly out of control of the feelings biting into him. 

“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” He could see that you wanted to argue but he couldn't stand to see you in that dress any longer.  

“No black.” He said firmly and you looked a bit deflated before retreating back to the dressing room. His mind pulled him back to that day. You attached firmly to his side, dressed in all black. The way you tried so hard to behave, tucking your face into his neck to cry as they lit the vardo on fire. How you even tried to hit Polly when she tried to take you from him. How you would panic if he was out of your sight for more than a few minutes. 

No black. He ran his fingers through his hair. 

The next dress hurt nearly as bad. Tears he had not cried in years welled up in his eyes as he looked at you taking in your body in the mirror. 

So much like your mother, the style of the dress, the color. You were going to be an adult in a blink of an eye. Only small traces of that little girl left in your features. Now there would be boys and time left with it being just the two of you would start to slip away.  

He thought the dress was much too showy, you didn't understand that yet though. Considering you would be standing next to him the whole night he figured it would be alright. You could pair it with your mother's jewelry and he could get Pol to convince you to wear it with a shall or something.  

Eventually, your eyes looked at him for approval and he felt guilty for snapping at you. There was a very evident look of self-consciousness on your features. He wished it came more naturally to him. 

“That’s the one, eh?” He said and enjoyed the way your eyes lit up. He may not be the best dad, but he would try hard to spend the last time he had with you. Find things to do with you, before you became busy with the rest of the world.

[sincerely-sofie]

I just realized how crazy Opal’s family is on paper. Imagine you’re a greedy crook so you kidnap the child of the random Charmeleon lady who you know has more money than she lets on. Then you send a ransom letter and set up a dungeon so this Charmeleon woman can give you the money for her child back. It’s fool proof!

And then you find out said Charmeleon lady is not JUST a Charmeleon lady, she’s the lady who stopped the world from getting paralyzed with her friend. Okay, no problem. They probably haven’t fought in a serious battle for years. It’s still an easy job- oh she still goes into dangerous mystery dungeons and so does her previous partner Kip. Okay, startling, but you can still pull through on this- oh wait, Grovyle the time gear thief, Dusknoir the hit man, and the time traveling mythical Pokémon Celebi are also part of the family? They also care about this Charmeleon lady?? And they’d also be apoplectic about this? Okay, now you’re a lot more worried, but it’s nothing that hiring a few accomplices can’t handle! Wait. The father of the baby is the guy who actively tried to cause the planet’s paralysis? The one who managed to torment an entire town? And all have of them practically stared Dialga in the face and said “yeah I can win this/I have to win this” and actually did win? Or at least one of them caused Dialga’s insanity?

You now realize you have only a few options:

1. Lie to potential accomplices about who exactly you messed with because no one sane would look at the full implications of this and go “yeah let’s do it!”

2. Hope the Charmeleon lady won’t call for backup, and that said backup won’t find out and come anyways, therefore plan proceeds without a hitch.

3. Just give the baby back and apologize.

If you’re really greedy or desperate for money, you’d choose one of the first two options. Otherwise, you’d choose option three and run for the hills.

And that’s before said criminal realizes they kidnapped a baby legendary.

The best part of all this is that her family never talks about the craziness of their lives. So you think you're just kidnapping some rich lady's kid and then a brigade of highly competent, highly dangerous individuals come swooping in simultaneously, but the brigade is comprised of:

That old man who you saw agonizing over what cookware to buy at the market the other day and apparently knows how to corner people who are running from him with startling efficiency

A scrawny, ugly grass-type you crossed paths with at the clinic when he was getting some medicines for his chronic pain and who is also unbelievably fast and hits like a truck

A marshtomp who, despite having famously (and shamefully, according to many) retired from exploration, is arguably even more dangerous now despite his calmer occupation, because he knows everything about the ruins you’re hiding out in, including where all the traps are

The rich lady whose baby you stole and also has apparently BESTED MULTIPLE LEGENDS IN COMBAT with the help of that marshtomp we mentioned earlier, and is currently tearing her way through the countryside and rapidly closing in on your location

And two entire legends who are not only extremely capable on their own, but can destroy your psyche by showing you the exact location, date, and cause of your death (right here, right now, her disemboweling you personally with her bare hands) or locking you in a perpetual nightmare. Also that one over there is the baby's dad? Oh heck you're so dead—

AND THE BABY HERSELF IS A LEGEND WHO KEEPS TURNING INTO DIFFERENT ROCK + STEEL TYPES WHO WEIGH VARYING UNHOLY AMOUNTS AND IS SHRIEKING LOUD ENOUGH FOR ANYONE IN A 30 MILE RADIUS TO KNOW WHERE YOU ARE. OH HECK YOU'RE SO DEAD.

Beyond this scenario, imagine being an older Opal who's chilling with the fam during the holidays. Everyone is having a nice time hanging out and soaking in the good company. And then your uncle who cries whenever you call him Uncle mentions that he hasn't had this good of food since before his parents kicked him out of the house when he was a kid. You don't say anything, but you're extremely confused. Did he say he was evicted from his family home as a child? Maybe you misheard...

And then your other uncle says that he got the recipe from some bidoof during that window of time that your mom didn't exist. Your aunt nods sagely and says that it was very kind of the bidoof to share such a treasured family recipe with him during that time. He probably needed the comfort food while grieving his best friend.

At this point you are very much baffled by the conversation, and then your grandfather politely asks if we can stop talking about this, because he'd rather not be reminded of the fact that they all died when he's still finishing dessert.

Your dad then chimes in by saying he'd appreciate a topic change as well. His appetite is rather soured by the reminder of his part in their deaths.

You have never been more confused. And they all just move on to chat about the weather like nothing about what they said is absolutely unbelievable. So later you go to ask your mom about it and she has the audacity to reply:

TFW you’re finally old enough to comprehend The Family Lore™️