#like i don’t mean to bash the new series i’m really looking forward to it

[victorfrankiestein]

for as pretty and high quality as the new monster high series is, it is a shame that the animation clearly being more expensive leaves the school as a whole looking kind of empty. like the webisodes cost 3 dollars to produce, but because of that they could at least pump out a bunch of generic monster designs to put in the halls. so far in the new series it feels like only the main characters attend monster high, you never seem to see a crowded cafeteria or a bunch of monsters walking between classes, which does make the school feel more lifeless :(

[don-daygamerz]

Thirst Tweets

Ben Barnes x GN!Reader (You)

Requested by: anonymous

Request: hii, hello!! sooo we know that ben has read thirst tweet, can you write ben x gn! reader where the reader is behind the screen while ben is reading the thirst tweet and ben glances at them after reading every tweet and they're enjoying seeing ben all red because of the tweets?? im sorry if it's all too much, im not gonna rush you. if u don't want to write it, it is totally fine!

Warnings: swearing, dirty tweets, teasing, mature content

Word count: 1.6K

Bold - thirst tweet

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The whole morning you could not stop smiling. Today was going to be an interesting event for your beloved husband. Was it an anniversary? A birthday party? New Movie? Series? No… your sweet Ben was about to fall victim to his fans’ thirst tweets. Buzzfeed had reached out to him and had given him an interesting opportunity in reading aloud the thirst tweets his beloved fans posted. Ben felt flustered and bashful after receiving the news but he couldn’t turn it down especially when you begged him to do it.

“I really can’t believe I’m going to read some dirty tweets,” Ben chuckled.

“I can. Like I always said babe, have you looked yourself in the mirror lately… and I mean looked. Or that voice? Mmm! Can make a ton of panties drop,” you said to him in a playful and sultry voice.

This made Ben laugh hard. You always knew how to make him laugh and that was one of the things he loved about you. “You can be utterly ridiculous, you know that? Have you been reading the thirst tweets? Is that why you’re excited I’m doing this read-out?”

“I just can’t wait to see how you’ll react to the tweets. I’m really looking forward to seeing the look on your face,” you laughed at the thought of him being flustered and choked up from the intense tweets. “Your face looks so flushed… you act shy and bashful…Ugh! It’s adorable!”

Ben looked to you with mouth agape, “I do not. That is completely false, love,” he then acted offended playfully.

“Sure you don’t…” you said sarcastically, “Oh but I seem to recall a certain game you played…”

“Don’t go there,”

“Guess the gibberish that was the game! What was the phrase that got you choked up…” you tapped your chin as if in thought as you looked at him in mock confusion.

Ben looked at you as if saying, ‘Really?’

“Oh yes I remember, Calm heed at tea. How could I forget the phrase that made you speechless? Face it, love, you sometimes get flustered when things get heated.”

“And If I recall down memory lane. Aren’t you the one who also gets red in the face when things get heated… when it’s just you and me… alone… our bodies locked to each other as I whisper sweet words… with a voice that makes panties drop…” He had you there the sly bastard. He always knew what got you weak in the knees.

“Touché.”

Buzzfeed had arranged for the gig to be done during the morning, through a webcam of course. Ben began to set up his laptop in the living room of your home so he could make use of the natural light. You walked out of the kitchen with a cup of his tea and set it down on the coaster for him while he sat and prepped. “Thanks, love,” he said sweetly as he grabbed your soft hand and place a kiss to show how much he appreciated you.

“Anything for you,” you smiled back at him, “Hey, uh wanted to ask you something… if it’s no trouble?”

“What is it?”

“Can I watch you do the thirst tweets? Please. I won’t interrupt you and I won’t be on the screen,” you begged him softly.

“You really want to see how I’ll react to the tweets, don’t you?”

“So bad.”

“I don’t mind, really. I’ve always appreciated how you supported me from the sidelines. Makes me feel happy to know you’re there for me…” he said to you in a loving manner. Another thing Ben loved about you was you’re unyielding support and encouragement.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything was set, Billy was waiting to get connected to Buzzfeed and start the session.

“Hello I am Ben Barnes, and I am here with Buzzfeed to read my thirst tweets. I have no idea why.” He looked to you over the screen as you gave him a thumbs up. You were seated comfortably on a single seater couch sipping your (flavor) cappuccino. ‘Off to a good start,’ he thought.

as much as I want it, ben barnes is not doing that thirst tweets video. we all saw his reaction to the “calm heed at tea” thing “I know what that was…ha ha… in fact my s/o enjoyed it and they appreciate you mentioning it…” You gave a 'told you so' look to him which he just shook at playfully whilst smiling.

so I cannot imagine him reading the word bussy? bossy? Boossi? You choked on your drink then laughed quietly mouthing ‘oh my god’ Ben almost laughed at your reaction, “I’m not cool enough to know what ‘bussy’ means… out loud I’d pay him $1000 if he could do it and read everything fully.

“Well autumn, you owe me 1000 of your American dollars, because I read that out loud without knowing what ‘bussy’ means. It sounds rude, but I don’t quite know how to react because I don’t know what I’m saying…

Ben then looked to you and somewhat whispered, “Do you what it means, love? I really am afraid to ask but I’m really confused…”

You were speechless in an embarrassed way, “Oh boy,” you said, “umm babe, it uhh…it’s the…” you didn’t want to say it out loud so you provided gestures to explain. “Ooh…” Ben said in slight shock but then laughed boisterously. He turned to the camera chuckling while he said, “Haha my s/o just explained what ‘bussy’ means. My god, love.”

ben barnes are you free February 14th because I am free February 14th and I would like to hang out with you on February 14th when I am free so please let me know if you’re free to hang out on February 14th because I would like to hang out on February 14th when I am free

Ben chuckled at the cute tweet, “Thank you, and that is very, very sweet of you but I already made plans with someone very special in my life,” he said back bashfully as he looked over the screen towards you, looking at you with so much love in his eyes before turning back to his laptop.

The thirst tweets were getting hotter and hotter by the minute but you didn’t mind that your husband had such ‘dedicated’ fans. You were amused with how they simped for him and wished they could be with him, alas he was taken. Ben Barnes was your man and that was final.

i would let ben barnes pour hot soup on my lap. And then I would apologize to him.

Ben released a small laugh then replied in a soft tone, “Uhh ha ha, funny you should mention that… something like that happened to me once, only it was tea and umm no I would never try and pour hot soup, I would be apologizing profusely to you…” You laughed silently at the sweet and awkward memory. Gosh was Ben so embarrassed and could never stop apologizing

“Ooh, I did the same with the hot tea incident but things turned out alright… I eventually married them.”

Ooh Boy were the tweets getting real thirsty. Ben would not stop laughing and you were really invested in all of his reactions. You had admired the way he would respond back thoughtfully and give some insights here and there.

There was one tweet regarding his toes but Ben was like no and then added of how they were never the same since his accident at the set of his show, ‘The Punisher’. You perfectly recall that event, even though Ben just damaged one of his toes, you were so worried for him that you went full on nurse. Ben enjoyed how you coddled him and tended to his needs even though you didn’t have to. He really loved how much you cared for his well-being.

ben barnes , in case you were wondering: all my holes are free real estate <3

That tweet made you spit out your drink and you nearly shouted, ‘What?!’ Man was that fan really pretentious. Ben stayed quiet unsure how to respond but it was his turn to feel amused in his predicament, he’d seen how you reacted to the tweet he recently just read out. Your mouth was agape whilst moving mouthing the words, ‘Say what?’

But the last tweet really destroyed him you thought. He could not stop rubbing his face, squishing his cheeks as well.

“Thank you, everyone, for these… compliments? I am, I’m honored and I will see you with a can of SpaghettiOs on February 14th when I am free…” you gave Ben a playful glare at that comment which he caught, “Ha ha never mind, again I appreciate the invitation but I don’t want to end up sleeping on the couch.”

And that was it. After Ben disconnected his call with Buzzfeed, you began clapping your hands at him which he, in turn, gave a mock bow.

“Woo! Who knew my hubby was such a dreamboat?” you said playfully.

“You should know that since you’re married to me,” he came close to wrap his arms around your waist while you rest your arms around his neck; wrapped around each other like a beautiful couple in a slow dance.

“Yeah. I really hit the jackpot, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did darling. But in truth, I’m the one who really hit the jackpot,” he said to you sappily which caused you to giggle. Your cheeks began to redden and this didn’t go unnoticed with Ben.

“Now who’s gone all bashful now?”

“Fine,” you smile at him, “You always know what makes me go all red. Anyhow, for doing such a great job with the thirst tweets… how about I reward with a special treat?” you said to him seductively as you traced your fingers around his lips which he gave a brief kiss.

Ben brought his face close as he whispered, “In the bedroom?”

You smirked at him, “Where else?”

Ben may have tons of fans craving for him but at the end of the day, he was yours. And always will be.

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Author's note:

Hi, this request was made anonymously so I hope they manage to find this post. If you're reading this I hope you like it, I really paid close attention to the video and did the best I could. Anyway to everyone reading this I hope you enjoyed my bit of writing.

Taglist:

@s1xthirty @lincerad

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Ares

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares

Lucifer

He cannot overstate what kind of damage this mortal was able to do in their first few seconds in the Devildom...

The instant they got to their feet, they had managed to incapacitate Satan and knock down Beel. Lucifer himself tried to get between them and Diavolo but…

If he hadn’t moved his head, if he was standing just ONE INCH to the left… he wouldn’t have a head anymore. Barbatos was there to intervene, but had he not they could have probably taken out the Avatar of Pride and done critical damage to the Demon Prince himself in one strike...

Frankly, Lucifer prefers not to dwell on that moment... He's sure Ares must be proud of this one...

He pretty much treats the mortal like a live bomb afterward, if he can get away with not interacting with them at all, that’s what he’ll do.

He’s NOT scared of them... much... It’s just that they have a bullish and uncooperative attitude at best and since they know they can take any of them, they don't even consider him - Lucifer, the eldest demon brother - a threat...

But you know what the most frustrating thing is? They won't give him an inch of respect, but they'll always listen to Levi! Levi!!

Look, Lucifer knows he may not hold a rank among the Hell's army and he might not have been a major player in the Celestial/Demonic wars of the day, but he's still the strongest demons here, dammit!! 😡

Lucifer finds nothing is more embarrassing than having to ask Levi of all people to keep the mortal in line because he can't... Oh, the humiliation… He hopes they leave soon...

Mammon

At first, he thought they were scary. But in time he thought they were scary… and also pretty damn awkward.

Mammon wasn’t there when they more or less wiped out the majority of his brothers in the Conference Hall but when he finally showed up he'd never seen Lucifer look so pale… If THAT doesn't make you shit your pants, he doesn't know what will.

Naturally, he kind of toned it down on the "stupid human" stuff real quick after seeing that…

But here's the thing. After the two made a pact together, Mammon started to notice that the MC wasn't all that mean, they were just… violent?

He legitimately thought that they couldn’t stand him for a while until one day a guy on the street called him a dirtbag. The MC threw a punch right there! No questions asked, they just decked that guy!!

It was kind of touching… and messy. Very messy. Did he mention that they’re terrifying yet? 😥

As it turns out, the MC has apparently spent a lot of their life just fighting things and being asked to fight things so they're not very used to showing non-violent affection… 

It took him awhile, but he realized that their way of saying, "I like you," is, "I will attack your enemies." So now all he does when his brothers tease him is say, "I'm telling MC!'' and they'll stop immediately. It's great!! 😁

Considers them to be his bodyguard when he goes out to gamble in some… shadier places. Most of the time not even the bouncers want to take on the MC, ain't nobody getting paid enough to lose that many teeth…

Leviathan

Okay, so. It's not very obvious anymore, but he USED to be on the front lines of the war against demons in the Celestial Realm. He was in charge of battle strategies, he led armies, and even now he still holds the highest rank of the royal navy!

So leave it to the kid of a war god to sniff all that out about him, huh…? They appeared to know all about his record the instant they saw him and they actually seemed to respect him for it!

For context, this mortal tells pretty much everybody to shove off but any time he’s around they call him “Admiral” or “sir” and actually pay attention to what he says! He can tell it drives Lucifer insane, but honestly? It’s a bit of an ego boost. 😌

It’s sort of cute when they come to him asking for tactical advice… They get just as into it as he does with his anime and any time he points out something that they haven't seen before they get so excited it's like they're a kid watching a magic trick. HUGE ego boost. 😏

Speaking of anime, it’s hit or miss whether or not they can watch any of it. Anything with good fight scenes (and let’s be honest, not that much talking) they’re on board for. But if the hero and the villain talk to each other for like an episode before throwing punches then the MC will just rant...

MC: “The enemy is distracted... Why aren’t they attacking yet??”

Levi: “Because the villain killed the hero’s best friend and they’re-”

MC: “They could avenge their friend right now if they ended things right here!”

Levi: “MC, we’ve been over this... That’s not how plot works.”

MC: “And now he got away!! See?? They should have killed him when they had the chance!”

Levi: “*sigh*... Let’s just play some CoD.”

Satan 

The last thing he remembered when the “human” hopped out of the portal was a sharp pain to the side of the temple and Asmo wailing as he fell unconscious…

Yeeeeah, not great. And unfortunately for the mortal the Avatar of Wrath tends to hold a grudge… 

For a comparatively brief moment in time, all of Satan’s considerable ire had shifted away from Lucifer and to their new housemate. They found their bed, clothes, pillows, food, and even their toothbrush cursed!

… But Ares kids must be built from some strong stuff, because half of what he employed didn’t even faze them! He even put an explosive spell on their backpack and not only did they tank the blast, it didn’t hurt them at all!! It was like they’re damn near immortal!

Annnnd they kind of are. Apparently the MC had taken a dip in the River Styx at some point before and became nigh invulnerable…

Was it maybe a little terrifying to know that they had kidnapped a nearly invincible demigod on the level of Achilles? Yes. Did that also mean that they must have had a weakness too? In theory....

Satan honestly devoted a depressing amount of time trying to uncover the “Achilles’ Heel” of his new sworn enemy… until…

The MC was walking with him and Asmo to RAD one morning when they passed by a group of lesser demons harassing a small puppy. Now Satan may be more of a cat man, but NO ONE fucks with animals while he’s around.

He was right about to go over and rip those demons a new one but the MC actually beat him to it! Apparently, the second that they realized what was happening, they launched themselves forward and started bashing the abusers' heads into a wall!

… Live by violence, forgive by violence because in that very moment Satan decided they weren’t so bad after all. He even joined in!

Oh, Asmo gave them both shit all day for the bloodstains on their uniforms and the scratches on their… everywhere, but it’s not like either of them cared. Righteous justice had been served and it was glorious!!

100% would team up with the MC in some kind of vigilante “punish-all-animal-abusers” gig. They have but to ask. 😌

Asmodeus

Oh they TERRIFIED Asmo when they first showed up! How else was he supposed to react?? They brought down his brothers like they were made of cardboard!!

Though he had to admit that the confident, battle-ready look they had about them was sexy as hell, he knew better than to go bear poking! 😣 He avoided them like plague until they finally asked him for a pact.

And then he discovered something… something very unexpected….

They're actually adorable!!!

Okay, like, not in appearance (they look like they could pile drive Cerberus for Pete’s sake!) but he discovered that they have NO CLUE how to handle physical affection. Like zero!!

The first time Asmo actually got the courage to try and hug them he expected them to toss him off, but instead they just stood there like a malfunctioning doll, all flustered and confused… It was so cute!!! 🥰

From that point on, Asmo would take every chance he could to wrap his arms around them or kiss their cheeks just to watch them try and fail to handle it. It's more fun than picking on Levi!!

It took two months for them to finally attempt any kind of reciprocation and even that was adorable! They pecked him on the forehead without thinking about it then nearly passed out from the realization. Apparently, they had never felt like kissing anyone before so he was quite honored!

The brothers know that if the MC's looking too mad to listen to Levi, they just need to call Asmo. A nigh invincible warrior becomes a LOT less scary after you’ve cuddled them into submission! 🤭

Beelzebub

Beel didn't like them one bit, at least not at the beginning. They had managed to get past him and actually attack Lucifer which was NOT a great first impression on their part...

He honestly saw them as a threat for a while, but unlike the rest of his brothers he didn’t avoid them. He just kept an eye on them.... constantly….

Look. Beel is a big guy. Stealth is not his strong suit… If he's tailing you, you're probably going to know about it because there's a six-foot something behemoth in orange following you around while pounding down bags of chips. He's not very subtle…

That being said, after following them around for a while the two finally got to talking and he realized that they didn’t want to hurt anybody or anything. They were just acting on instinct before.

After making the MC promise not to hurt any of his family, they got on much better terms. Hell, he actually got them into fangol!

Beel's sport of choice is pretty much just ultra-violent American football so the MC took a liking to it instantly! After enough begging, the coach let them try out and they got onto his team immediately.

He likes having them as a teammate! They're very good at the game, uh... even if they take it a little too seriously…

They once tried to convince his teammates to decorate the team bus with "the helmets of their fallen foes." They're REALLY into the sport… But hey, they haven't lost a game since they’ve joined. It’ll be fine!... Probably.

Belphegor

Hahaha… He’s in danger… 😥

It took one look at this mortal to make him rethink the whole, “Trick the Human” plan… Since when have humans looked like that?? They could crush his skull under their heel!!

It took all he had in him to play it cool when they first met because his internal monologue was nothing but screaming… THIS was the "human" he had to use to get him out of there?? How in the WORLD was he going to kill them?!

Admittedly, he had to think about it for a while. Belphie's a clever guy… and a demon. So who needs an honorable fight, anyway? If he can’t win one-on-one, then he’ll cheat!

He waited until the MC got the door open and didn't attempt a frontal assault… No laughter, no gloating. He just waited for them to turn their back, claws ready to dig out their heart, and then-!

MC: "Do you really want to try that?"

The MC must have had some kind of danger sense, because they didn't even have to turn around to know what Belphie was doing…

MC: "Look. I like Beel and you're his twin brother… So I'm willing to let this slide. But if you really want to try me…"

MC: *looks over their shoulder with the glare of a bona fide killer* "I won't hold back."

That was... very persuasive.

The MC brought Belphie down to the others peacefully with his tail between his legs and honestly Lucifer was more relieved that he wasn’t a bloodstain on the floor than he was mad… They could have killed him sooo easily… 

They did, indeed, forgive and forget about the whole “attempted murder” thing, though Belphie was never quite able to shake off how frightening they were in that moment… He had nightmares for a while.

Thankfully, Asmo clued him in that the MC would melt into a harmless puddle of fluff if they got even the slightest bit of physical affection... Oh, the sweet payback he could dish out... It’s cuddle time. 😏

[thenovelartist]

Mistaken Drink; Drunk Mistake - Tears of Themis

Up next in the "Drunk Wedding" series, we have Artem. Enjoy ;D

When Artem woke up that morning, he was in a shocking amount of pain. He didn’t want to move despite the fact he knew he needed to get up for work.

Regrettably, he forced himself up into a sitting position, only to instantly feel nauseous. He was going to have to call in sick wasn’t he?

“Artem? Are you okay?”

The sweet voice rung in his ears. Before he could even place where he’d heard that voice before, he felt a cool hand on his back. It took him far too long to realize that said hand was touching his skin, making him realize he wasn’t in a shirt.

Why wasn’t he in a shirt? He always slept in a shirt.

However, before he could think too much about it, a new wave of nausea hit him. He braced himself against the headboard of his bed, leaning his forehead on his arms in hopes that the feeling would pass.

“Do you need water?” the voice asked. A lovely, sweet, feminine voice.

“No,” he muttered weakly.

There was a pause, in which time the intense symptoms faded to manageable levels

“Are you dizzy?” the feminine voice asked. “Do you want medicine?”

“No,” he replied.

However, now he was very curious as to who the owner of that voice was. He couldn’t stand it anymore; he had to know. So, pushing past the pain, he slowly lifted his head up to get a look at the person who was next to him.

Oh, it was his work partner.

That was the only thought he had before he felt sick again and buried his face back in his arms, blocking the light from seeping in.

And then the nausea hit him like a truck.

“Artem? Are you sure you’re okay?”

He couldn’t answer. But he most certainly was not.

…

Fifteen minutes later, after a bathroom break that turned into him emptying the contents of his stomach and feeling all the better for it, he was laying back on his bed, eyes closed and arms draped over his face to keep the light out. He was still shirtless at the moment, but that was less because of choice and more because he could barely move from his spot to the closet to grab one.

As for work, he was fortunate enough to have realized it was a weekend. He had time to recover.

He heard a set of footsteps enter his room, and despite knowing better, he opened his eyes to watch Rosa enter, glass of water in one hand and something else in the other.

With his headache, he draped his arms over his face again. While it was originally to keep the light out of his eyes, it also doubled to cover his blush. The question of “why she was in his house” had yet to be answered.

So did the question of “why she was in his shirt”. But he could only think on everything for so long before his headache warned him to calm down.

“I brought you some medicine,” Rosa said. The space beside him on the bed sank under her weight. And while he wanted to warn her that her being here in a bedroom with him, he wasn’t particularly in a position to speak at the moment, figuratively and literally. “Are you feeling better?”

He paused to think on it. “Possibly.”

“Possibly,” she whispered to herself. Despite being out of it, he could hear the resigned smile in her tone. “Do you need anything? Or just rest?”

Honestly, he needed a lot of things. Answers, specifically.

Slowly, he removed his arms from his head so he could open his eyes and see Rosa. The light still seemed over-bright, but it wasn’t as bad as before.

She gave him a smile, and suddenly, he felt warm all over again. “Good morning.”

His heart gave a funny leap in his chest. “Sorry,” he muttered.

Her expression fell to a concerned one. “For what?”

He wasn’t fully sure. Everything, maybe.

Yes, everything.

But before he could say it, she reached forward to brush his bangs back from his eyes, and words died in his throat. “You don’t have to be sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry, too.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”

“For last night,” she said.

He pursed his lips together, trying to think of anything she had to be sorry about, but his memories seemed too hazy to recall anything. “To be frank,” he said, voice hoarse. “I can’t remember last night.”

When her eyes widened in surprise, it took him a long moment to realize it wasn’t the good kind. And when she smiled, it was tense, which caused his own stomach to tighten up again. “Well…” she began. “Um… you really can’t remember anything at all?”

He paused, trying long and hard to think back to last night. “We were at a party,” he answered. “For the firm.”

“Yes,” she confirmed with a nod. “There was that.”

The more he thought on it, the more he could recall the scene. Themis Law Firm had decided to hold a party for its associates to celebrate a major court win for a big client. It had taken months of research and many staff members, but in the end, it had come out in their favor. It had been Celestine’s idea to throw a party for the sake of the employees, congratulating them and allowing them to have a moment to enjoy themselves.

Artem had been there, of course, enjoying the atmosphere and the company of Rosa, who had sat next to him at the bar while the others grew roudy around them.

But that was all he could recall.

“What happened after?” he asked, giving up his futile mission of recalling anything further.

“I think… my best guess is the bartender mixed up someone’s double-shot mixed drinks with your mocktails,” she answered.

Ahh, that would explain it. He grimaced, letting his eyes shut again as he dragged a tired hand over his face. How did he not catch that?

“Are you here because you helped me home?” he asked, already knowing what her answer would be.

“Well… I mean… yes,” she answered, hesitantly.

He opened his eyes again to look back up at her. “Why didn’t you go home?”

She turned bright red.

Oh no, that wasn’t his intention. He felt bashful just looking at her.

“I… kinda… was drunk myself,” she said, her blush not dying down as she turned her gaze away from him. “So, I fell asleep beside you.”

His face began to burn. Wait, she was beside him all night?

“Oh,” she said, looking down at her shirt which was actually his shirt which caused a second wave of embarrassment to crash down on him. “Sorry, I stole one of your shirts because my dress was stained from when someone fell and dumped a Bloody Mary on us. That’s why you’re shirtless, too. So you wouldn’t ruin your sheets. Which reminds me, are you cold? Do you want me to get you something?”

His mind had already come to a screeching halt hearing her explain, so starting it back up again so he could answer was a challenge. “I-I…”

Why was talking so hard?

“Yes.”

She gave him a nod. “Okay. I’ll grab one for you.”

With that, she turned her back to him, and he covered his face with his hands, silently wishing he could die and save him from this mortification.

When she returned, she helped him sit up again, and he slid on the plain shirt she’d given him.

“Thank you, for caring for me,” he eventually said, trying his very best to pull himself together. “If you give me a moment, I can give you a jacket to cover your dress and call a cab for you.”

She froze. “Uh…” She seemed to struggle to find words before turning a strained smile on him. “Well… there’s… actually another reason I hadn’t left yet.”

Artem’s brow knit together in confusion., but his gut sank like a stone with worry.

“Because…” The smile she gave him was overly-exaggerated, which worried him deeply. “We should really talk about what to do about our wedding certificate.”

Artem froze, the words somehow eluding him for a moment before registering in his mind all at once.

“I’m sorry. Our what?”

…

It seemed drinking wasn’t the only thing he did last night.

It was mid-morning now, and he was sitting at the table holding his second cup of coffee while he stared at the document in front of him. And he still couldn’t believe it. Because not only had he and Rosa had decided to get married while they were drunk.

But Celestine witnessed.

This had to be the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done and likely the most embarrassing thing he would do in his entire life.

“I’m pretty sure it’s legal,” Rosa said, taking a seat beside him. She was still in his shirt, slowly killing him at the sight of her in it, sipping on her own mug of coffee.

“It is,” he lamented. “Unfortunately.”

“You say that like being married to me is a bad thing.”

His heartrate skyrocketed as he struggled for words. “No! That’s not what I—”

Before he could finish, he took in the sight of her sniggering over her coffee mug. “I was just teasing.”

Despite that, he wasn’t fully able to relax. Because if given the opportunity, he’d love to be married to the woman beside him. However, that wasn’t likely, considering he couldn’t even so much as confess his feelings to this woman.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll start on the annulment, then. It should be granted easily seeing as we were both intoxicated at the time.”

“Do we have to, though?”

He froze, shocked, then confused. “What?”

She sighed. “Celestine warned me you were this dense,” she whispered under her breath.

While Artem was still processing those words, Rosa turned in her seat to face him head on, looking him straight in the eyes. “I love you.”

Whatever Rosa proceeded to say was lost on Artem. He was frozen, completely caught off guard by such a confession. He… he’d thought she wasn’t interested. She never seemed to respond to his advances the way he’d anticipated she would. So why…

How…

He was so confused.

“And I know you try hard to get my attention,” she said, her words finally registering in his mind. “I thought we were getting closer, too. But…” She looked down, disappointment written all over her face. “I must have been wrong.”

“You love me?”

She turned her wide eyes back on him, and suddenly, she was smiling again. “You really are dense, aren’t you?”

…

Back at work, Artem was working on the annulment.

It was… disappointing, in a way. He and Rosa had had a long talk about a relationship between them and where they each saw it going, and what they landed on was marriage in the future. She’d suggested keeping the marriage certificate just in case. However, Artem was adamant that this would notbe how they married. So, annulment it was until they saw fit to come together, sober, as husband and wife.

Which, Artem hoped wouldn’t be too far off in the future.

“So, how’s married life?”

Artem looked up to see Celestine grinning down at him. He fixed her with a stern glare as he picked up the wedding certificate. “You actually witnessed this sham of a marriage?”

“I did!” she cried, grin never leaving her face. “It was a sight to behold. I’m so proud of you for making the first move and asking her to marry you, even if you were drunk when you did. Maybe you and alcohol do get along after all.”

Artem sighed, suddenly feeling quite tired. “And how sober were you for the thought of stopping us to not occur to you?”

“Oh, I was perfectly sober.”

Artem nearly dropped the document. “What?”

With a laugh, she winked at him. “By the way, Rosa istaking on your last name, right? So that I know to give her the proper change of name paperwork.”

Leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, Artem wondered if a hangover could reappear days after drinking. Because his head was sure spinning right about now.

[extravaguk]

sweets&ink

part of my opposites attract! series. 

ksj / knj / myg / jhs / pjm / kth 

pairing: tattooartist&tattoed!jungkook x baker!reader

summary: jungkook was everything you feared but exactly what you needed to heal your broken heart.

wordcount: 5k

genre: fluff - angst - smut (s2l!au)

rated: m (?

warnings: some cursing, mentions of past abusive/toxic relationships/trauma that might be triggering, a lil of making love at the end. it’s overall just suuper fluffy, trust me. jungkook is a s i m p. we love that for him! slow burrrnnnn.  

Jungkook knows it was love at first sight, but doesn's know how to really explain it.

He knew from the moment he entered the small shop, pastel green walls welcoming him  replete of sugary treats, a sweet and heavenly scent engulfing him as soon as he stepped a foot inside.  With a new found sense of calmness and serenity within he hadn't experienced in a long time, he searched for deserts of his liking, mouth watering while assessing the many options of baked goods available and bright colored frostings stealing his attention.

"Hi. How may I help you?"

Then he looked up and found you. It wasn't easy to appreciate your whole appearence with the counter hiding the lower half of your body, but it was enough for Jungkook to think to himself that he had never seen a prettier girl in hiis entire life. And that's when he knew it. Any type of movement in his surroundings coming to a halt, his heart skipping a beat, his favourite song playing inside his head. And that particular sensation. The same one that had made him feel so at ease since he found your bakery. For a moment he thought his doe eyes might have actually turned into heart eyes until you raised your eyebrows, a concerned expression replacing your previous warm smile. 

Blinking his eyes and clearing his throat, coming down from cloud nine into the real world, he stuttered his order as best as he coud manage, heart pounding inside his chest and later feeling mortified for not being able to pronounce "gingernap cookies" correctly. 

At first he kind of hated Seokjin for blackmailing him into going to his favourite bakery to buy his favourite cookies (Jungkook really should've known better than accidentally spill ink all over Jin's new script), but when he comes back home with a goofy smile on his face and dreams of your face, he makes sure to text him he'll go get his cookies anytime he wants.

But Jungkook is a masochist apparently. 

Because a week after your first encounter he realizes that not being able to get his mind off a girl he's literally only seen once in his entire life is not exactly normal. Not for anyone, but especially not for him. Realizes that the way he embarrassed himself in front of you and probably looked like a bluberring mess (or a creepy weirdo who had never interacted with any woman before) is not reason enough to not keep wanting to try again. And the way you just giggled at him and simply shook your head as you wrapped the ginger cookies he had asked for in a pretty packaging has kept him aching for more. 

So he comes once a week now. Still as nervous as the first day, but content to see that your face seems to light up at the sight of him stepping through the door the same way his does. He likes to see you in your cute pastel dresses, and if he didn't know better he'd think you were just trying to keep up with the bakery's aesthetic. But the more he frequents your shop, the more he realizes you're exactly like the treats you bake. He likes how your vividly honeyed persona contrasts with his darker and reserved one. Likes how you're all colors of the rainbow and he's just a scale of greys.

They are small interactions. Just courtesy and cordial exchange of words everytime he visits. He doesn't even know your name and you don't even know his, but sometimes he asks how was your weekend and sometimes you ask how many people had he inked that week. Sometimes he tells you how pretty you look, and sometimes you blush in response. Sometimes you add an extra macaron in his order and sometimes he debates on whether or not he should write down his number on a napkin and slide in right on the countertop before he waves goodbye. 

And although Jungkook has never been one to shy away from women, he feels a certain way he can't exactly pinpoint. A way that makes his confidence falter and leaves him feeling like a little kid who's afraid to confess to the girl he likes. Because as cliché as it sounds, you're not like any other girls he's ever met. You don't feel like any other girl he's ever met. Not the older than him, tattoed and pierced type of girl he's accustomed to; not the type of girl that's addicted to trouble and believe him (maybe even hoped) to be something he's not. So it takes a while for him to summon up enough bravery and determination. It takes weeks of pining and overthinking, and a single push from Yoongi ('stop being a fucking pussy and just do it') to ask you to have coffee with him.

"I... I'm sorry. I can't."

And it only takes those words leaving your mouth to shatter his heart into pieces. 

 It's fine though, he told you and himself. He wasn't going to be one of those guys who believed the 'friendzone' was an actual thing and tried his best to not make you feel uncomfortable, really tried his best to erase the guilt across your face as you rejected him.  So he scratched the back of his head and mustered up a big smile before leaving the shop with a bag full of cupcakes and an unsettled stomach.

Letting out a deep breath you didn't even know you were containing, you observe as the handsome stranger exits the shop. Running a hand through your hair before gripping the counter with your hands, you try to steady the heavy throbbing insde your chest. 

The boy in question had been unknowingly tormenting you and flooding your mind with thoughts of him for almost two months now. That day you first had spotted him eyeing the desserts in display in amazement and then you in the very same way. It was sudden and precipitated, but it had almost made your head spin, something you hadn't felt in a long time unexplainable tugging at your insides. 

You had kept your cool as best as you could, as best as you had taught yourself in the past. Wrapped those cookies he had asked and then waved goodbye, hoping under your breath he wouldn't come back but silently wishind he would. But then he did. He came back once. And then again. And again, and before you realized he had become a frequent costumer. Trying whatever treats you'd recommended him, creating small talk, sending friendly smiles here and then. 

You had learned to expect him at the very same time, the very same day of the week; had learned to manage the fluttering in your tummy and the reddish warmth spreading through your cheeks whenever the eye contact was prolongued. Everything was innocent, it was brief and, most importanly, it never went beyond, even if sometimes you hoped it did.

However, after all these years, there was still something you hadn't learned to control yet. And as he spoke, clearly nervous, hesitant and clearly out of his comfort zone, wondering out loud if he could ever treat you to a coffee sometime, your body shut down. The fondness and excitement you had been harboring over the last few weeks quickly replaced by that which made you want to recoil, made you want to back to your well to let its darkness and loneliness envelop you.

That horrible and ugly wave of crippling fear and axiety all mixed together; a little monster that you had successfully concealed, now displaying its ears in warning and the same smile that had been haunting you for years, now advising you, reminding you and most of all, threatening you, to go back to your own comfort zone. And so, powerless, there was nothing else you could really to but to comply, muttering an apology and a rejection that probably pained you more than it pained the boy in front of you.

You knew you did the right thing, but it definitely didn't feel like it. 

Especially a week later, as you expected his arrival- as always, ready with a tray full of fresh baked scones you had particularly made just for him, but were left severely disappointed when time passed and he was nowhere to be seen. Or two weeks later, after spending an extra hour making cake pops that you had specifically designed with him in mind (covered in dark chocolate and white sprinkles), only to realize it was closing time and that he never even showed up.

 To say you were bummed was an understatement. You knew you always looked forward to him coming in every week to grace your day with a smile and a polite talk, but you didn't come to terms with how much you would miss it until now. So three weeks later, you still bake with him in mind, trying not to lose hope but still chastising yourself for not being brave enough and accepting his offer. It was just a coffee date, for God's sake, not a marriage proposal! Trying to busy your mind with work and customers coming in and out, even if your eyes dart in anticipation everytime you hear the door swinging. 

When hours pass and the sun hides to make room for the moon and stars into the sky, you look at the clock and, with a defeated sigh, finish cleaning and tidying around the shop. But before you can gather your things, the door swings open and there stands the stranger you had been praying to see again. 

"Am I too late?" he asks, and you don't exactly know but can tell his words hold a double meaning. You smile, a genuine smile, because he looks bashful with a hand scratching the back of his head like he had done the last time you saw him, and because there's a warm sensation spreading through your chest, like your heart is smiling for you. 

"I was about to close, but I can make an exception." you accomplish to say and surprisingly don't sound as nervous as you feel. He mirrors your smile as he walks closer to the counter. "So, what would you like?" 

That takes him by surprise because he really had nothing in mind when he decided to come here and now he feels like an idiot. 

"Uh, um... I would like... maybe cupcakes?" he sounds like an idiot too. But you nod and smile at him and start gathering his cupcakes into a polka dot cardboard box.

"You missed the cake pops I made last week." you say, trying to keep your voice in check as he hands you his credit car. "I think you would've liked them."

"Ah, sorry... Work has been really hectic." and even if it's true, it's also true the fact that he chickened out and was frightened to face you again. He likes how even when you're alluding to his absence, there's not a malicious tone behind your words. He likes how you're still smiling at him even after he's been acting like a pussy for two weeks. But that's why he's here. "I also would like to apologize for... you know. I didn't-...If I made you feel uncomfortable, I'm really sorry."

With your eyebrows raised, your smile dissipates. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong, really. It's not- It's not that. I just...can't." you stumble through words, trying to explain how much you actually wanted to go to that coffee date, to get to know his name and more of himself, but unavailable to. You can feel it again. The same anguish that always seem to creep up on you and numbs you altogheter. But him, worriedly sensing your distress, waves his hands in front of him.

"No, no. It's fine, you don't have to explain anything! It's alright!" his smile seems to soothe you and you return his smile in gratitude. "Anyways, I'll... I'll get going. See you next week?"

You nod, anticipation already making its way into you. "See you next week." and then he takes the box filled with cupcakes and says goodbye. Before he can open the door though, a tingle of impulsivity and fearlesness makes you say:

"I'm _____, by the way."

He pauses, clearly taken aback.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook hasn't stopped repeating your name in his head ever since you gave it to him, grinning like a fool and thinking about how good it sounds next to his. He hasn't stopped frequenting your bakery either and has lost count on how much money he's spent on muffins and whatever else you sell. He doesn't care though. All he cares about is how much likes seeing you even if it's only for fifteen minutes in your floral dresses, and as long as you keep looking like you're glad to see him every time, then he's fine. 

He's more than fine. He feels amazing. Sings tunes while he works on customers, feels his creativity flowing more than ever and he feels whole. It still baffles him how a minimun interaction with you once a week can make him feel on top of the world. 

He's got a bouquet of white and pink lillies next time he visits, so sappy and romantic he doesn't even recognize himself. He doesn't tell you he googled their meaning and his mind instantly associated them with you. Purity is exactly what he thinks of you and admiration is exactly how he feels about you. Hands it to you and the surprised look on your face and the spreading of pink all over your cheeks makes his heart burst. You thank him and he tells you he didn't know what your favourite flower is. You answer it's carnations. He writes it down somewhere in his mind, for next time. And then you're the one surprising him.

"Would you like to have coffee sometime?" 

There's uncertainty in your voice that doesn't go unnoticed by him, and for a moment he thinks he's dreaming. He's cool with what he's got right now with you, but you repeating his words back to him makes him feel euphoric, like he can't believe it. He knows he looks dumb, the way he's looking at you. 

Completely dumbfounded. He stutters like the first same he met you, but he says yes (omits the part where he tells you he could almost die). You exchange number in each other's phones with shaky hands, set the day and hour, and then wave each other goodbye. 

You instantly regret it as you watch him leave. Keep regretting it the following days. That voice in your head telling you 'it'll happen again', telling you fairytales didn't exist and this most likely wasn't one, even if it felt like it was, suffocating you like it had done many times before. Screwing with your head until you consider canceling. 

But you power through it, like you had taught yourself to do. This time it's harder though. Because this time there's a new romantic interest at hand, one that's making you feel things you buried a long time ago and made you swear to yourself you'd be smarter and stronger than any man could. 

It's Hoseok's encouraging words that help ease the panic. It was also Hoseok's words who encouraged you to ask Jungkook out. Said you deserved something good for once and that you couldn't close yourself to love your entire life. 

Thought it was time for you to write a new chapter after a rather sad one. 

So on Saturday, Jungkook insists on picking you up and it already feels like too much for you. Especially when he shows up with a bouquet of carnations in his hand and a smile that takes your breath away and definitely doesn't help to ease your nerves. 

Takes him by surprised how pretty you look.  maybe because it's the first time he's seen you out of your shop and even though you're still loyal to your clothing style, he still fumbles with his words like an idiot to try to express how beautiful you look. Seeing he's as much of a mess as you settles you a little bit. Then he takes you to a cute café that almost makes you laugh, because seeing him, inked arms and piercings and a closet that consisted mainly of black oversized t-shirts and pants in such a bright environment reminds you of the first time he entered your shop. 

You're surprised to see how well the conversation rolls, how easy it is to talk to him beyond the usual brief interactions you two have. You like how he makes you laugh and how he seems to love hearing it. You like how his attention is solely focused on you, even if his gaze on yours sometimes feels too intense and his overall character intimidates you. You like how soft spoken he is, how careful he is with words and the sound of his voice. Sounds like a lullaby without melody. 

And when the date is over, he drives you home, walks you to your door and respectfully wishes you a good night. You kiss him on the cheek spontaniously before hiding the embarrassment on your face and stepping inside your home. You miss the way he stays at your doorstep for a whole minute before getting in his car and driving himself home. You also miss how peacefully he sleeps that night, dreaming of cupcakes and you. You don't miss the heart emoji he sends you before going to bed, making yours quiver.

You're glad you didn't cancel, and now you're sure you don't regret it at all

It goes on. The dates, getting to know each other more and more, Jungkook's visits to your shop and spending way too much money on sweets and carnations, the butterflies in your stomach everytime he's near and the birth of something inside of you that's starting to make you feel alive after feeling dead for so long. 

It's still new, still wholesome, moves in slow motion. You're glad Jungkook doesn't push, doesn't ask for anything, never demands more than a kiss on the cheek everytime he drops you off. He is nothing like he looks like, you realized that right away.

But with every brand new beginning that requires feelings like this, especially as unique and exceptional as the ones Jungkook is causing within you, comes the evil monster trying to scare you off, to make you back off and remind you that not everything that shines is gold. The voice inside your head that keeps bewitching you back into a dark room, reminder in your head everytime that one day Jungkook will want more. He'll want more and you might not be ready to give it to him. 

A voice that keeps resonating and has kept you unmoving for the past few years and now is making you feel more frightened than ever. 

You've been more quite than usual and Jungkook can tell something is not quite right. It's a friday night, and after having dinner that he insisted on paying, he decided this time to drive you away, to a secluded space somewhere where you both can appreciate the city lights on the hood of his car. He can tell, so he asks you, but you give a vague answer. He wants to ask again, but he's afraid of overstepping your boundaries. He wants to get to know you in every level, want's to scratch the surface until he can see everything. He wants to learn you inch by inch. Wants to love every part you bare to him, because he's sure he will. 

"My ex partner was abusive."

You finally say with a voice that's not entirely yours, and it doesn't feel real. Doesn't feel real to say out loud and letting the words sink in. It's taken all this time of excusing behaviors that were not excusable, trying to make light of a situation that wasn't and blaming yourself for things that you were not to blame for. Jungkook stays silent, but his attention immediately focused on you as soon as you spoke. Eyes slightly wide and mouth starting to open as if to speak himself. But you go on.

"Not physically." you swallow a lump in your throat. "Sometimes he would throw things at me, but they didn't always land. Or... one time he pushed me while we were arguing. Never raised his hand at me though. It was mostly psychological and emotional. He was extremely jealous and possesive. Didn't like me hanging with my friends, would never bring me to hang out with him and his friends. Though I' was cheating on him with anyone. The cashier at the supermarket, a randome dude on the street that simply looked at me. Anyone." tears prickle your eyes, but you'd learned to hold them back.

"He would always get mad at me. Would already wake up angry and take it out on me. Without reason. Would always blame me for everything. He would get mad, insult me, call me any terrible name you can imagine, tell me I wasn't worth shit. That I wasn’t worth living.Then he would punch the wall, or break whatever was in sight. Everytime, I told him I was terrified of him. Would cry in a corner and beg him to stop. Sometimes he would just laugh at me for it." you sniff, still looking straight at the city lights, and trying to keep a composed tone throughout. You had grown up a lot since then, and you knew Jungkook deserved to know you. He deserved to understand. 

"Then he would calm down, apologize while he cried and promised he loved me and would change. He never did. It took me a long time to finally walk away, but the demons still haunt me to this day. You," you choke, because comparing your ex to the guy currently sitting next to you was like day and night, like heaven and hell. "You make me feel things I've never felt before. I always felt like asking for respect was asking for too much. And then here you come, like a knight on shining armour ready to sweep me off my feet. It felt like a dream. Still does..."

Jungkook's hands are balled into tight fists, his whole body rigid as he listened to you. His own heart breaking, like he could feel himself inside you and experiencing your own heartbreak. His blood's boiling, jaw so tight and eyes blinking. Pushing down his anger, because this is about you not him, he lets his body relax before sliding your hand in yours. 

"I like you so much,_____, it literally kills me at night how much. Not as much as hearing all of this, though. From the moment I saw you, I was whipped. I wanted and still want to give everything I can to see that smile of yours. It's me the one who can't believe you're paying me any attention at all." you're still not looking at him, but he still sighs in relief when your lips quirk up. "Just having you here next to me and letting me take you out on dates is more than enough for me. Whatever you give me, whatever your terms are, I'm content with that. You're healing, and while you do, I'll be right here."

You look at him now, not bothering to hide the tears streaming down your face anymore.

"What if I never heal completely?" there's fear in your voice as your eyes meet his, but just the dark brown in his gaze help you feel secure, less worried about the future and more serene about the now.

"I'll still be here."

It doesn't take long for you to call it love.  

Not when Jungkook keeps proving himself to be so different and so special. Not when his gestures never cease to make you feel so special, so worthy of recieving and sharing love. Because Jungkook makes you feel invincible, makes you feel one in a million. 

"What to you even see in me? We're like, polar opposites." you ask him one day. And it's true, you are. So different from each other, yet the same. He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, still holding your hand in your doorstep about to kiss your cheek goodnight. 

"I see everything." he simply says, eyes boring into yours in adoration. "I see the sun, and the moon, the stars, the entire galaxy when I'm with you." your heart clenches as he interlaces his fingers with yours. "Before I met you, I felt like I was blind. Like I was lost and was looking for an exit that I couldn't find. But then I saw you, in your little bakery, with your cute dresses and those eyes, and it was like my eyes opened for the first time. Everything made sense. Everything has been filled with so many colors ever sinc-" 

You shut him with your lips on top of his, emotions pulling at your heartstrings the same way you pull him down by the neck. He takes a few seconds to respond, but then this hands are dropping to your waist, their warmth immediately spreading through your skin against the chilly night.

"Would you like to come in?" you whisper, breath fanning over his lips. He nods, hurriedly, and he knows he looks like a damn idiot for the hundredth time, but he doesn't care. Because coming in doesn't only mean stepping in your home. Coming in means you're letting him in. Means you trust him, means you want him there, means you're allowing him inside your heart. 

Again, Jungkook doesn't expect nor demands much. Your presence is everything he needs. You kissing him is like winning the lottery to him. Like completing a marathon, like climbing the Everest, like getting his first tattoo. Kissing you is sweet, fills him with something strong that makes him feel on drugs, like nothing matters but you and him. Like nothing has ever mattered to neither of you. 

So it's you who leads him to your room, it's you who straddles his thighs and pushes his hair back as his hands carress your sides. It's nothing fiery. It's slow, tentative, and full of care. Of lingering touches, low sighs against each other's mouths. 

It's you who reaches inside his shirt, hand sneaking past the hem of the fabric and trembling cold fingers coming in contact with firm skin. It's also you who asks for more with a small roll of your hips. It's you who asks him to take his shirt off. It's him who complies. Still tells you you don't have to, you tell him you want to. 

It's you who asks him to touch you. He's scared like he's never been, because you're you, and you're so perfect and everything he's ever wanted and suddenly he's afraid of you're too good for him. Jungkook only wants to make you happy, never wants to see you cry, just wants to treat you the way you deserve. 

It's you who begs.

It's you who tells him you need him. Need him take care of you, need him to show you much you're worth, need him to help you write a new chapter, probably even a new book where you're both the main characters and nobody else has ever existed. You say it with tears in your eyes, and he's quick to kiss them away, tongue entangling with yours. He's quick to undress you as well, with hands that still ask for permission even after you've granted it already. Hands and lips that are also quick and eager to learn your body, to find every mole in your skin as he lays you back to look at you in admiration. He keeps kissing you. From head to toe, muttering praise, making sure every 'beautiful' and 'gorgeous' and 'perfect' that leave his lips stay fire engraved in your being forever. 

He first makes you cum with careful fingers and skilled tongue, thighs wrapped aro around his head, eyes still looking for yours as his hands keep your body still and yours crumple the sheets beneath. Tells you how good you taste, how long he's been dying to have you like this. Tells you this you his favourite sight as he kisses his way up. 

You beg him again, asking him to please, please, fill you up. He groans against your mouth and he tells you again, you don't have to. He says he's happy like this. Repeats he's in no rush and just wants to please you and make you feel good. That it's about you, and will always be about you. You beg him again, and again and again, enticing him with a trail of wet kisses down his neck, up to his eralobe. You whisper there, tell him you need him to fill you with his cock so bad. His whole body goes rigid as your legs wrap around him, legs pulling him closer to where you want him, his erection grazing your entrance and his teeth nibble your lower lip. 

Jungkook doesn't move for a while, eyes closed shut, jaw clenched and head buried in your neck. He doesn't move because his mind is somewhere else keeping him stagnant, pussy wrapping around him so good and wet and tight he's about to bust. Takes a while for him to move, but when he does he makes sure to grip your thighs around him, keeping you close, never wanting to let go as he tells you you were made just for him. Just for him. Tells you how good you feel. He tells you he loves you. Kisses your lips as you sob, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He tells you he loves you. Tells you he'll love you forever and will always keep you safe and happy. 

You're crying now, cheeks wet and he stops for a moment to look at you, concern written all over his face as his hands craddle yours, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "We can stop, baby." You shake your head no. Pull him back into another kiss, urging him to go on. You tell him you love this, love him so much. That it's a good thing. That they are happy tears. That you've never been happier. And then his hips start moving again, your words egging him own, soft whimpers and sobs leaving each other's throats until you cum at the same time. 

He then removes himself from you, rolling onto your side but he's quick to pull your body close, arms wrapping around you and lips kissing away the wet stains on your cheeks. 

It doesn't take long for you to know Jungkook would be the healthy forever and after you had always dreamed of.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 4

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment, blood

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: It’s me again, ya girl. We get more Loki and tomorrow more Zemo and I’ll see if I can get more done through the week + headcanons!

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 4: Bring me back in shackles

💀💀💀

You lunged at Loki with a snarl. The cold air flew up the bottom of your shirt and reminded you of your naked legs. You clawed at his throat as he caught your wrists and held you at bay, your feet fiery on the bitter ice. He kept you in an awkward dance and suddenly you were plummeting back as he hooked his leg around yours and swiped it sideways.

You hollered as you slipped but were caught before you could meet the hard ground. Korg hooked his arms under yours and put you right. You jabbed your elbow into his ribs and turned on him as he yelped in surprise.

“Don’t touch me!” you shouted, “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him.”

Korg stopped you from swinging at Loki and you turned to aim your fist at him instead. He dodged it and you sensed the crowd forming along the street as the flames and sirens drew the club from The Asp. Your ire diverted as you saw Bucky stride down the sidewalk and you stormed away from the large redhead.

“You see this? See what he’s done?” you shrieked, “you just gonna stand there.”

Bucky said nothing as he came to a stop and his men watched you in shock as you raged in little more than your tee shirt. You were so angry you could hardly feel the cold. The smoke tickled your nose and you looked again at your burning shop.

“Nothing! You coward!” you lurched forward and Jerome kept you from reaching Bucky as he came between you.

“Hey, don’t. Don’t. You’re gonna get yourself killed,” he hissed under his breath, “stop!”

“Stop? Don’t you get it. He’s letting this happen. He as good as set the fire himself,” you fought against your brother as whispers swirled in the air, “it’s my shop!”

Someone snapped their fingers and again there was movement behind you. Korg’s large hand settled on your arm and he tugged. Jerome kept a hold of your other elbow and glared at back at him.

“What are you doing?” he squeezed your arm.

“Jerome,” Bucky said, arms crossed and unmoving on the sidewalk, “let her go.”

“She’s my sister, I’m not going to let them--”

“You’ll do what I say,” Bucky insisted, “your sister made her choice, time to make yours.”

Jerome looked between you and the biker. Bucky wouldn’t even looked at you and the woman a few feet behind him, his girl, watched in terror. She stepped forward and touched his arm. She whispered to him and he shrugged her off.

“I won’t tell you again, Jerome,” Bucky growled, “you’re a part of this club, you don’t just leave.”

Jerome inhaled and stared at you. You saw his eyes glistened and he gulped. His hand dropped from your arm and he backed away. He shoved his hands in his pockets and hung his head.

“Disgusting,” you sneered, “all of you.”

Korg dragged you back and you tried to twist free.

“You’re a coward, Bucky Barnes,” you yelled as kicked out, “you’re all a bunch of cowards.”

Korg hooked his arm around you and lifted you easily. You flailed and wriggled in his grasp, tossing your head back and just missing his jaw as he grunted. He turned and walked back towards Loki. You saw his green eyes and the way they glimmered over his smug grin.

“Fuck all of you!” you barked as the chattering voices grew louder, “all of you!”

💀

As you neared the old Victorian house where Bucky had Loki holed up, you didn’t stop snarling and clawing at your captor. Korg had you over his thick shoulder but walked silently as if you weren’t even there. When Loki got close enough, you reached out for him and several times he snickered and sidestepped you.

You latched onto the door frame as Korg tried to carry you inside and after a moment, he wrenched you away so hard your fingers bent back. You hissed and twisted on his shoulder until he was forced to put you back on your feet. He gripped your wrist as Loki closed the door and you were too quick for the larger man to get you under control.

He grabbed your elbow only as you shot your foot out and caught Loki in the crotch. The lithe man grunted and stumbled back. He leaned a hand on the wall as he bent over and held his breath. Korg hooked his arms through your other and kept your arms behind your back as he reined you in.

There was a stark silence as Loki stood straight and coughed. He rolled his shoulders and looked down his nose.

“Take her upstairs,” he pointed along the ancient banisters.

You were forced away from the thinner man and your toes hit each step painfully as you tried to kick back.

“Let me go!” you grunted and threw your head back into his shoulder, “why the fuck do you listen to that asshole? Come on--”

“He’s the boss,” Korg said lightly as he struggled with along the creaky hallway.

“You’re just as bad as him, you bastard,” you threw your feet out and planted them on the door frame as he tried to veer you through.

“Look, miss, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, “but if they boss tells me to, I will.”

He pulled you back and quickly angled you past the door frame. You stomped his feet but he barely noticed and turned to face Loki as he entered, keeping you at bay as another eruption of anger swept through you.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, you know that?” you snarled, “I’m going to bash that dumb look off your face, you mother fucker--”

Loki rolled his eyes and his lips pursed as he ignored you and went to the closet. He pulled out a leather duffel and searched through a small case. He revealed a pair of cuffs and you scoffed.

“Oh no, no, no,” you wriggled wildly, “you can’t be serious. Let me out of here.”

“Well, darling, since you’ve felt it necessary to assault me and threaten me further, I can only take the proper precautions,” he kept away from you as he rounded Korg, “this should do, bring her here.”

You were wrestled over to the wall as Loki waited by the ridged radiator. It took several minutes for them to get your wrist hooked in the metal cuff, the other locked around thick leg of the heater before it hooked into the wall. Korg let you go and both men stepped away as you lashed out at them, only to yank on your shoulder painfully and fall back.

“That should hold her for the night,” Loki waved away the other man, “get your sleep. We have some driving to do tomorrow.”

“You can’t keep me here,” you sneered, “you’re crazy!”

“I’m crazy? You who gives me demands as you sit bound?” he chuckled and shed his coat and then his suit jacket, both carefully folded over the back of the antique chair, “and on the authority of this town’s keeper, I can do whatever I want with you…” he turned as he unlooped his tie, “and I surely will find many things to do to you.”

He dropped his tie on the polished table and unbuttoned his cuffs. He then worked on the buttons along the front and shrugged out of it. He flung it into the tall basket and sat to untie his shoes. You wanted to laugh as he was surely still slipping and sliding around in those things.

You looked away as he continued to undress. You boiled in rage and hatred as your lip curled. You pulled on the cuff until it hurt. You gave up and looked at him as he sat on the wide queen bed.

“You know what, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t hit girls, right?” you taunted.

He lifted a brow and reached over to pull the chain on the lamp. The room went dark and you watched his dark silhouette lay across the bed.

“Good night,” he slithered, “you should be cozy.”

“Sleep tight, princess,” you spat.

He sighed and there was a brief lull. He got up suddenly and moved through the dark. He grabbed the tie off the table and approached you. He kicked your leg aside as you darted your foot out again and he gripped your chin. He straddled you and forced the silk deep into your mouth.

“I don’t want to have to cut that tongue out… yet.” He squeezed your chin and backed off of you.

He went back to the bed and you kept your eyes on the legs of the table. You could not spit out the tie or make a noise around it. You hit your head on the wall and hissed through your nose. You bent your legs to your chest and pulled them under your shirt. 

The chill finally broke through your fury. Your feet were raw from standing outside in the cold and even the heat of the radiator hardly helped. You smelled of smoke and it reminded you of your rude awakening. You tugged on the cuff again and it clinked. 

Even if you weren’t cuffed, you wouldn’t have slept. You were too angry and heartbroken. That man burned down your livelihood, he wouldn’t get anything else.

💀

You dozed here and there but woke with your back wracked each time. You sat against the wall, too stubborn to curl up on your side like you truly wanted to. When you woke for the last time, the room lightening with the dull winter morning, you felt a pressure in your bladder.

You groaned and stretched your legs. The night came back to you and you pulled again at the metal cuff. You wiggled it until it made an annoying metallic clicking but it was hardly loud enough to disturb the other person in the room. You knocked on the metal with your knuckles and you heard the soft snort.

“Stop that,” Loki’s voice was rough from fatigue, “I mean it, stop.”

You kept on until he rose and stomped over to you in his silken pajamas, his top entirely bare. You’d been too worked up to notice before. It only meant he was vulnerable. You stopped as he got close and you pushed yourself up on one foot and kicked at him. He caught your ankle and then grasped your other and pulled your legs out from under you.

“Enough,” he growled, “enough.”

You made a face at him as his tie remained firmly lodged in your mouth. You tried to talk past it and he tilted his head and huffed. You stilled and attempted another word. He poked his fingers between your lips and pulled on the tie. He retracted his hand right before you bit down.

“Darling, you tread a thin line,” he warned as he tossed the tie away, “if you didn’t insist on being such a pest, you might spend the nights to come on something a little more comfortable.”

“Fuck you,” you spat.

His eyes flipped to the ceiling and his jaw tensed. You wanted to grin but you also really had to go.

“I have to pee,” you said, “but if you’d rather, I can just let it go right here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he tutted and stood, “a little patience would do us both a favour.”

“I have no desire to do you any favours,” you snapped.

“Yes, but I might do you one,” he took the key and hung it from his index finger, “or I might take your suggestion and let you languish in your own filth.”

You sucked in your cheeks and flared your nostrils. You let out a long breath and raised your free hand defenselessly. “Fine, my bladder’s about to burst.”

He neared you cautiously and bent to uncuff you. He swiftly latched onto your wrist and dragged you to your feet. You pulled back your other hand in a fist and he pointed his finger in your face.

“Don’t,” he warned pointedly.

You shook away the anger and dropped your arm. He drew you after him and led you to the doorway on the other side of the bed. He let you through into the bathroom and closed the door behind you.

“One minute, darling,” he said from the other side, “remember this kindness the next time you think to strike me.”

You made faces at yourself in the mirror and rolled your eyes. You slid down your panties and sat to let forth the building stream. When you finished, you rinsed your hands and heard a tap on the door.

“I’m coming in, darling, I do hope you’re decent,” he purred grossly.

You reached out to the folded straight razor as the handle turned and backed away from the door. He took a step in as you opened the blade and you lunged at him without pause. He caught your hand and squeezed it painfully. He spun you and threw you against the wall.

“Oh, darling, did you think I forgot about that?” he snickered as he freed the razor from your grasp, “you are too predictable.”

He aimed the end of the blade at your neck and you flattened yourself against the wall. He poked the top of your shirt with and hooked it under the cotton. He slashed through the fabric easily and you felt the hot slice down your chest, shallow but enough to bleed as the incision quickly grew hot.

“The next will not be so nice,” he warned and folded up the razor, “now,” he threw it into the sink and grabbed your arm, “back to the beginning for you.”

You elbowed him and he snaked his arm around your neck. He locked you in a hold and forced you across the room He bent you and stretched out your arm painfully, just enough to hook you in the cuff again. He retreated quickly as you struck out at him again and he laughed as you were pulled back by the metal.

“You will remain thus until you can show me you can behave and I promise you, you will not outlast me,” he smirked, “if you might take some time and truly think, you will realise what I could do for you instead of to you.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you sat against the wall and splayed your feet out, “fucking asshole.”

“Well,” he said, “you do need some clothes, I expect, and I need some proper boots as you suggested yourself. The roads have cleared you did a brilliant job on your repairs so I will be spending the day in the city,” he stretched his arms above him as he strode around the room, “I’m certain you will be just fine without me but it would do you well to miss me.”

“That’s amazing, some peace and fucking quiet,” you retorted as you pulled the slashed front of your shirt closed and your hot blood seeped into the cotton, “I think I’ll like that a lot.”

[4joonkookie]

Gravity

(Mirror, Mirror part #2, [or not])

⚘ Paring: Jungkook x Reader

⚘Words: 3.8K

⚘Summary:

Part 2 of the Mirror, Mirror series. All parts can be read as a series or standalone. (Standalone) - You strike a lusty connection with a sexy stranger at a concert venue. OR (Series) - Unsure about the future of your relationship, you recall the first time you meet and fuck JK.

⚘Tags/Warnings:

SMUT, flirting, public foreplay, infatuation, established relationship, non-disclosure agreement, angst, rough sex, putting on a condom is sexy?, waxing nostalgic, noona!kink, destiny, series, career woman, Jungkook takes long showers, oops there's a plot, lots of research on that 'Euphoria' harness, Seokjin cameo, commitment issues, avoidant behavior, unresolved ending, ending up to reader interpretation, just wanted to write a sex scene in the mirror and it's manifested into 4 parts.

------------------------------------------

You stand frozen in the mirror, looking at your reflection until it fortunately steams away from Jungkook’s hot shower.

Quit your stupid job. Please. Stay with me. And you don’t need to have an answer. But we have to talk about it.

You could be predictable and do exactly what Jungkook thinks. You can leave.

Or. You could head to the kitchen, start a pot of coffee and unpack your bags.

Memories flood your mind, keeping you still.

-----

The thousands of seats in the stadium are empty but ample employees work through set-up and dress rehearsal for the concert happening tonight.

You stand on the stage watching the staff secure a performer to the platform harness, tightening a cable around his waist. They shuffle to finish and take steps back to watch the man be lifted, hung and swayed above the stadium seats.

This is the last item on your agenda today before you can head back to the hotel and rest for an early flight tomorrow.

The performer is slowly lowered down to the stage.

Working for these large venues means traveling, living in hotel rooms and keeping you too busy to take advantage of endless complimentary show tickets. Most of them go to waste or are given away . A “friend” (one of the many that come out of the woodwork depending on what show is in their city) casually asked about tickets to this particular concert. You told her the stadium is sold out but you had 2 tickets and weren’t planning on using them.

Your ears still ring with the high-pitched shriek she wailed into the receiver.

When the man lands safely back on the stage, you approach him. “How is it? Does it feel okay?” you say, in your best client - friendly voice as he steps off the device.

“Do I have to wear the wrist harness?” He rubs where the looped fabric has reddened his skin.

“It kind of burns.”

You scrunch your face before replying. “Yes, you have to wear the harness. It’s a liability if you don’t.” you say, matter-of-factly.

“A liability.” It’s not clear if he’s parroting you or asking a question.

“Right,” you nod. You signed a contract.”

“I did?” his hand on his chest, genuinely surprised.

“Well, someone did,” gesturing to the plentiful staff of his company.

“What does it say?”

“It says the stadium isn’t responsible for anything that happens to you if you don’t use the moving platform as recommended, I.E. with the wrist harness.”

He doesn’t reply. “Sorry.”, you add. Just trying to keep you and your 5 friends safe.”

“6,” he corrects you.

“6 What?”

“There’s seven of us. Me and 6 friends.”

You quickly apologize, realizing you may have come off rude and too eager to leave. You have no idea who he is but he’s not the first diva you’ve dealt with. You turn on the charm and start sucking up to the talent, as your job often requires.

“But if the fabric of this one is too rough on you...,” you briefly rub your hand over the reddening skin on his hand. “I think I have one in a different material that’ll be gentler on your skin.”

He laughs shyly and smiles. It wasn’t your intention to flirt but his reaction made it feel like you were. It makes him seem a little young.

“It’s ok.” He laughs again, containing a smile. “It’s not too rough,” eyes glancing at your lips and moving to your eyes. The wind blows his dark hair over his face but you can still see his eyes. His near smolder throws you off, causing you to dart your own eyes down.

“Are you sure?” feeling blood rush to your chest and face as the distance between your bodies begins to close.

“Yes.” He thanks you by name after quickly getting a glimpse at your name badge. “Is that your job? Making sure everyone is safe?” Embarrassed by your initial touch, he seems more confident now.

“Sort of,” you reply shortly.

Really, your job is to prevent the venues from being sued. Charming (and albeit, sometimes flirting) with talent is part of the job, so, you’re not sure why this random has such a pull on you. Or why your palms are sweating and your mind is going foggy.

“Wait here,” you instruct.

He nods and you jog to an equipment room backstage to retrieve another wrist harness. This one is made of silicone instead of fabric. You hurry back to him and worry you’re out of breath when you return.

“Here.” You pull the moving platform to you, stepping on your tiptoes to unhook the fabric loop. He holds out his hand to take the new one from you. You offer it and he easily reaches to hook it on, making you feel small as you return back to your flat feet.

“Hopefully, it’s a bit gentler for you,” you tease, taking some advantage of his bashfulness.

“Thank You.” He smiles. Your bodies are closer now and you can feel his breath.

Swallowing, “Do you want to try it.?” Soap and cologne fill your nostrils.

“Try what?” keeping his lips parted, eyes searching your face.

“The harness.” You pull the still-hanging platform and hold your foot down on the device so he can step easily onto it again. He raises his arm above his head and you loop his hand through the strap. You pull the belted cables and secure them tightly around his waist, feeling rigid muscles under his oversized t-shirt. He winces when you snap the belt closed.

“Speaking of rough,” he scolds, looking down at you, the world closing in quickly on you both.

“Safety first.” One of your feet between his, holding him down to the stage on the small platform. You could’ve had staff do it but eliminating this closeness seems wrong. “Ready?” you say, hands hanging from his belt.

His eyes peek down at your lips again. “Ready.” You step off the platform and give a thumbs up to staff working the cables above the stadium. They pull him for a few laps, flying around, giving you a moment to compose yourself.

When he lands, you replace your foot between his. “Better?” you ask, rising to your tippy-toes to unloop his wrist, letting your fingertips graze on the top of his hand.

“Better,” he replies, smiling ear-to-ear now. You wrap your arms around his waist again to remove the cables.

Behind him, a group of men huddle together at the end of the stage, conspicuously giggling and immediately stopping when your eyes find them.

“Are those your 6 friends?” you question, as you unhook the belt, embarrassed that you acted as if you were alone.

He steps off and rolls his eyes, endeared. “That’s them.”

“Ok.” You rub your face, trying to coax yourself back into reality. “You’ll let me know if you or your friends need anything?”.

He nods respectfully and thanks you by name again.

“You’re welcome.” You offer a wave and turn to slink away. You cringe when he calls you again. You turn to find a sheepish grin on his face.

“Do you know my name?” he asks with a knowing look.

You try to be casual. “No, I don't. You don’t have a name badge like me.” You take another step forward, being pulled in like a magnet again, onlookers be damned. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who you or your friends are. Will you forgive me?” looking up, controlling the urge to pout at him.

He scrunches his nose. “It’s ok. Kind of makes me feel normal.”

Funny, he seems normal to you. Your faces are too close to call this any kind of “schmoozing” or “sucking up” but you can’t drag yourself away.

“Your name?” scanning him from head to toe.

He crooks his mouth and inhales sharply. “I don’t know, I kind of like it this way.” He leans in closer, voice getting lower. “Is there somewhere we can go?” tongue running over his cotton-candy lips. “I promise to introduce myself.” He's painstakingly bold now and not a second too soon because you’re practically putting on a show, center stage. “Or is that a liability too?” he teases.

“I guess that depends on how rough you plan on being,” you taunt back and he exhales a breathy moan. “Follow me.” He takes your hand and you lead him to the office buildings in the stadium, empty on a Saturday.

“Is this part of your job too? Seducing singers?” he asks, as you approach the glass doors. You stop in your tracks before inserting a key into the lock of the building.

“I am NOT seducing you.” Reflecting on the last few minutes, you hardly believe it yourself.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “And no,” you continue. “I’ve never done this before.” You insert a key in the lock and turn your wrist.

“So, why me?” a hand still clasped with yours.

“Still figuring that out,” you reply, opening the door. “I’d hate for you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you, do you want to stop?”

He pulls the door open. “No.” gesturing for you to walk inside. You hardly make it in before he pins you to the wall right away, hooking his index fingers in your belt loops.

You look at him closely. “How old are you?”

“You first,” he says with a sly smile.

“Old enough.” You give him a playful shove.

Looking at him long again, “20.” you guess, sounding confident.

He grips around your waist. “How do you know that?”

You look up at him, thoughtfully. His lips are millimeters from yours. “Just a feeling,” you whisper. His lips finally press against yours, soft pecks at first. You breathe each other in and your mouth opens to him when he lifts a hand to the back of your neck.

He slots his legs between yours, heatedly pushing you harder against the wall. His lips move to your neck and both pairs of greedy hands squeeze and tug at each other's bodies.

Unfazed by still being visible through glass doors, you slip your hands under the belt of his pants to give his ass a squeeze and push his groin more roughly against you.

It gets more desperate, both of you panting and sweating through your clothes, still against the wall. He lifts up your shirt to grope at your breasts when you hear the speakers.

“Jungguuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuk, let’s goooooooo! We need to get ready!”

You peek out of the glass to see two other members shouting for Jungkook into hot microphones. He lets out a heavy sigh and kisses you hard again.

“Jungkook ,” you whisper. Like a prayer falling from your lips, naming the pull of his gravity.

He looks at his watch which prompts you to look at yours. 5 o’clock.

“I have to go. Can I see you later? Are you busy?” still panting and pressed against you.

“Aren’t you?” running fingers through strands of his chocolate hair.

“Later, later. After the concert, 10 or 11. “You’re staying for the concert?”

“Yeah,” you lie.

His name still blares over stadium speakers. He groans and pushes his forehead to yours. It’s a relief that he feels stuck to you too.

You begin to offer, “I have a hotel nearby, you can…”

He laughs. “Sorry, I can’t really do that. Can I have your number? I’ll have my lawyer find you tonight.”

“What?” you ask, confused.

“You know… liability and legal stuff.” A hundred voices tell you to end this right now. And one voice has you unhooking a pen hanging from your name badge and listing digits on his hand.

He plants one more kiss on you and just like that, he’s gone. You let your back slide down the wall until you’re sitting on the floor, taking a moment before you head back to the hotel to change clothes, put on your staff badge to blatantly take advantage of your job and enter a concert you don’t have tickets for.

You re-enter the stadium without suspicion and blend into the standing room. Any sense of nervousness disappears. You lose yourself in the magic of the show and his talent on stage, now done up and dressed in almost a costume. Still beautiful.

At intermission, a stranger in a suit calls you by name and introduces himself as the lawyer. You walk into an empty office as the stadium still buzzes. He talks and talks and talks. Then, he takes out a stack of paperwork, a non-disclosure contract.

You sign in about a hundred places. You know better, you should be taking time to read and sign carefully but your mind is fogged with the idea of getting your hands back on him, whoever he is.

“Ok. You’re all set,” the lawyer says, after a final signature.

“What happens next?” wondering when you reap the benefits of signing your life away.

“He’ll be in touch, I guess.” The lawyer shrugs and you walk him to the arena exit.

The concert ends and you head to an office to wait, unsure if you should leave the stadium.

Finally, a message from an unknown phone number with an address and hotel room appears on your phone screen. A knot forms in the pit of your stomach. You feel compelled to tell someone where you’ll be going only to remember that you signed an NDA that forbids just that.

You try to reply to the number and an error message immediately returns. “Sender not available”.

What the fuck. You stop and take a deep breath. This could be dangerous and now it’s going beyond “sexy” danger. You try unsuccessfully to convince yourself to stop thinking with your genitals and about the sexy stranger you needed to finish that kiss with.

It doesn’t feel real. You open an internet tab and search his name.

What a mistake. All the blood in your body floods to your core, knowing this man was potentially waiting in a bed for you makes your mind even hazier. Before you can catch up to your thoughts, you rush to your car to drive the short distance to the hotel.

Silent security guards escort you through the lobby and up the elevator. When the doors reopen, Jungkook has his back propped against a wall, expecting you. His hands are in the pockets of sweatpants. He doesn’t look like he did on stage anymore. Not like the pictures. His freshly showered and bare-faced appearance disarms your anxious mind.

“I’ve narrowed down who you are,” you start. “You’re either a big deal or an axe murderer.”

He laughs. “What if I told you neither is true?” He pulls you close by your waist and places a quick kiss on your lips. It’s too casual, like some muscle memory you never knew you had.

“The paperwork? The spoofed phone number?” you gently scold, as he leads you to a door in the hallway.

“You still came,” he says, opening the room door.

“Yeah, what does that say about me?” walking in ahead of him and taking a moment in self-deprecation.

“That you want to finish that kiss as much as I do,” door closing behind him.

You smile to yourself as you face away, heart fluttering at the notion that his idea mirrored yours. You turn to approach him.

“It was a little more than a kiss,” you flirt, placing your arms around his neck.

“Yeah…” his hands wrap around your waist again and his lips hungrily find yours. He bites gently on your bottom lip, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Sorry if that’s a little rough,” he teases, taking his mouth to yours again letting his hands roam. He adds: “I promise i’m not ‘axe-murderer’ rough,” he chides, and you both giggle between kisses. You sink into the familiar and comfortable space, regardless of being actual strangers . You lift off his shirt, eager for what you felt earlier, running hands gratuitously over his chiseled chest and abs.

“Do you want a drink or…” he’s graciously offering between kisses.

“No,” breaking your lips just long enough to reply, knowing he’s got exactly what you need right now.

Clothes are tossed in the air and landing on the floor before he lays you on the bed and the heated pace slows. He mounts on top of you and places slow kisses down your neck and chest while lowering the straps of your bra and kneading your breasts beneath the fabric. He takes nipples into his mouth, warm tongue circling, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your encouraging hands, tangled in his hair.

He moves to your mouth again, offering his tongue, slow but deep. He pulls your panties around your ankles and allows the palm of his hand to slide against your thigh before he can reach his thumb to stroke between your folds, causing you to shudder. He sucks at the tip of his thumb and moves his hips to push his still clothed cock against your center. You wrap your legs around him, urging him closer, needy for his friction.

“Be back,” he says, leaving a peck on your cheek. He walks to a bag on a nearby table, rustles through and retrieves a condom. You sit up on the edge of the bed as he struts back to you. He presents the foil square between 2 fingers. You peel it open, looking up at him. The back of one of his hands strokes your cheek while his other lowers the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing himself. You instinctively grip his shaft to plam slow strokes along his length and take pleasure in watching his eyes roll back.

You release your hand to pull the condom from it’s open wrapper, place it on the tip and use 2 hands to roll it down to the base before discarding the wrapper on the nightstand and pulling his underwear to the floor.

Leaning down to kiss you, he asks, “What do you want?”

You search for the words but opt to stand and silently guide him to sit back on the bed. He’s satisfied to follow your action as you straddle his lap and use your hand to brace his hard cock on your swollen center, rubbing up and down, slicking the rubber further. You guide yourself onto him, digging your nails into his shoulders slightly when you feel how he spreads you open, stretching and adjusting.

He groans when you reach the base, pushing down on your hips and shifting beneath you, getting deeper and widening your stretch. You whimper and squirm as you adjust.

“Too rough?” he teases.

“Not at all, '' you say, lifting your hips again and meeting the base faster. He pushes you down again, lifting his lap up.

“Good,” he breathes out, shakily.

You create a rhythm with your legs lewdly spread and circle your lower body, his shaft grinding against your sensitive walls, encouraged by his quickening breath.

His eyes are glued to your hips, watching them move. He slams you down a little harder, testing you. You both grunt when he meets the hilt.

You encourage his hand on your center, placing his hand on yours and setting the speed for him. He takes the cue and continues on his own, watching your face. You drop your head to his neck. He lifts you by your chin. “Let me see you.” The sensation is too much, and you're embarrassingly close. He quickens his pace below you, your own hips hardly moving anymore. You look down, entranced by his fingers. He uses his free hand to tug back on your hair.

“I said let me see,” you pulse around him at the words, a delighted smile on his face as he watches.

Still inside, he flips you on your back and buries himself balls deep inside you with an audible slap, bed rocking at the motion.

“Too much?” he sounds sincere.

“More,” you reply, challenging him anyway. He thrusts hard into you again with a sinister grin and keeps his pace, watching diligently as you take all of him. You whine at his deep strokes and he pins your wrists above your head, rendering you helpless as the pressure coils again at your center.

His grunts get lighter, whinier as he grips your wrists tighter.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse, and grope at his tensing ass cheeks when he comes. His thrusts become slow and shallow before sliding out of you. He takes a moment to lay his head on your chest before pulling and tying the condom off, tossing it.

He collapses beside you so you’re shoulder to shoulder and you fall into conversation, for too long and too late but you both delight in it, taking in more of each other.

“When can I see you again?” he asks as you prepare to leave, sunrise peeking through the curtains.

You’re a little surprised. The circumstances had you assuming this as a one-night thing.

“What do you mean?” you ask, unsure.

He gives you a suspicious side-eye. “Can I see you again?”

You attempt to shake down the guard you have up and smile at him.

“When?” you question, as his gravity pulls you back to the bed where he lies.

You lie side by side and compare schedules. It would be the first of hundreds of times you do this, comparing calendars and forcing your lives together.

You’re not sure when you stop forcing it but it’s happened. Now, 3 years later, you’re frozen at a fork in the road, torn to make a decision, knowing you can’t continue to drag him through your hesitation. You pick up your bag and head to the front door.

This first memory and a million others flood your thoughts.

When you saw him for the second time, weeks later, your hands wouldn’t stop shaking. You remember his flattered, cheeky smile.

The time you both got food poisoning and shared the bathroom floor for 3 days.

Surprising him backstage one night and sucking him off before a performance. His face was priceless.

The time he was so exhausted from touring he just slept for the 15 hours you were together. And you contentedly watched until you had to part again.

Taking a spontaneous flight just to get tattoos.

When you told him you loved him on the plane. “I love you.” The words slip out effortlessly, you don’t even remember what you were talking about. He’s pleasantly surprised and almost proud that you say it first. He reciprocates your words and seals it with a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too.”

Playing domestic during quarantine and settling into a chosen family when the world comes to a screeching halt.

The look on his face when he fucked you in the mirror last night.

His disappointed face before he got in the shower today.

You don’t notice Seokjin until he speaks, passing by you on his way to the kitchen.

“Leaving, noona?”

You don’t respond, still facing the closed door.

“Do you need help with your bag?” he’s walking up to you now.

“Noona,” he places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you going?”

Part 3/4 HERE

[bitchassbucky]

.raw

Word count: 1.3k

Warning/s: this chapter is pretty tame ngl. very toxic relationship dynamics, bit spicy, references to sex, dark!bucky x dark! reader, obsessive/manipulative tendencies, cyber and irl stalking (usage of tracking device), food and eating were mentioned several times

A/N: thank you @unsaltedalmonds for the idea of IT!Bucky wearing this shirt lmfao

follow the CTRL series:

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v - .zip

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The lunch rush is starting to pick up when you came into the restaurant Bucky had told you. The chitter-chatter of the patrons along with the live acoustic band drones on as you sit by the bar waiting for him.

It’s nice. The mood is casual and the atmosphere is light. Maybe if the al-fresco dining area isn’t too crowded, you’d pick a sunny spot.

Catching your reflection on a glassy surface, you fix your appearance, hoping that it isn’t too much or too little.

“You look great, don’t worry.” A voice behind you perks up and you turn—Bucky.

A genuine smile finds itself on your lips, “thanks, Bucky. How long have you been here?” You let your eyes gaze upon his form. Black bomber jacket, zipped up all the way, tight skinny jeans, and scruffy boots. He swapped his dress shirt with something casual and it’s somehow driving you nuts already.

He gestures backward to a free table a few feet away, “long enough to get a seat for us.”

Bucky then sees your eyes flick outside by the restaurant’s patio, “unless you wanna go al-fresco?”

“Oh my gosh,” you almost even give yourself an eye roll for that, “no—no, it’s okay. We can stay here.”

“C’mon, it’s okay. I’m sure someone would be willing to switch with us.”

Before you could protest further, Bucky already flagged down the hostess. Giving his best smile and a minuscule head tilt, he speaks, “Do you think we could get a seat out there? I think fresh air would do us good.”

Like any other woman—hell, even men—wouldn’t be able to resist Bucky and his charm, “yeah! Of course, anything for you and your girlfriend.” The hostess looks at you and beams, prompting you to smile back.

Do you even try to dismiss that claim when you caught how Bucky reacted?

—

Peals of laughter slip past your lips as Bucky unzips his jacket, revealing a tasteful shirt underneath, “Bucky, oh my god!”

He throws an apologetic look around as you keep laughing, your hands hitting the table repeatedly.

“Can you keep it down?” Even he was chuckling a bunch, “in my defense, I need to do my laundry.”

You calmed yourself down only to laugh again, happy tears springing to the sides of your eyes.

Bucky wants to relive this is forever. Making you laugh and cry from laughing too much.

Is this what love feels like?

Your presence to him is like ecstasy.

He never wants to leave your light.

Everything about you is addicting.

And the way you didn’t even try to dismiss when the hostess called you his girlfriend—you want him as much as he wants you.

—

Lunch turned into afternoon snacks and snacks turned to dinner.

You and Bucky almost went and turned every food place upside down, the waistbands of your pants getting snug as the sun sets by the avenue.

“I’m so full, oh my god.” You jokingly rubbed your tummy, sipping boba as you walked side by side.

“Says the person drinking boba tea?” Bucky smirks, his hair fashioned into a low bun, showing off his side profile, much to the delight of people passing by.

He’s a walking Greek statue and you’re with him.

Bucky makes you feel loved. Enough. Seen. Validated.

Is this what love feels like?

You in his presence feel like a warm hug.

Bucky changed you forever.

A rather rushing pedestrian knocked shoulders with Bucky, causing him to stumble back and you to hold him steady, “you good?”

He seemed pissed, the crease between his eyebrows prominent, “yeah. Sorry, I’m okay.”

And then there it was: the tug of something unknown yet strangely familiar. The sound of the traffic ceases as you and Bucky both gaze upon each other’s eyes, only drifting to the other’s lips.

The moment has never been this perfect. Fuck all your romantic comedies starring Kate Hudson, this is your story now.

“Can I kiss you?” Bucky asks tenderly. His hand brushing your hair away from your face.

“Yes.”

Without a moment’s notice, your lips met.

—

Hand in hand, you walked the streets feeling like you’re on the clouds. Sweet smiles, bashful giggles. Normally, you would protest against stealing kisses but not when it’s him.

“This is my place,” Bucky says, pointing towards a mid-rise apartment complex. The neighborhood wasn’t new to you; you often find yourself walking these very streets early in the mornings.

You haven’t had the moment to appreciate his art pieces when Bucky suddenly pinned you against the door, shutting it roughly as soon as you stepped into his apartment threshold.

His lips finding yours, nibbling. The kiss was anything but sweet—all teeth and tongues.

“You have no idea how much I’ve waited to do that.”

“Like a month?” You quipped, tugging the collar of his tee. Your arms draping past his shoulders as his hands rest on your hips.

“Yeah, sure, let’s say a month.”

Having you in his studio apartment was meant to be. You in his space was written in the stars. He can almost see you waking up on his bed with him cooking you breakfast. Making you a cup of coffee now that he knows how you like it: with cream and two sugars.

You took a seat on his large office chair and a vision of you riding him suddenly floods his brain. Hey, now’s not the time.

Him shaking his head into resetting sent the wrong message, “oh. I can’t sit there, or…?” You pull yourself up, metaphorically hitting yourself in the head for making such a presumption.

Maybe he’s that kind of person who doesn’t like someone all up in their space. Then why would he take you here?

“No, no, it’s fine. I just—don’t you think it’s a bit late?” Bucky forces a smile, rubbing his palm across his nape. The warm feeling was suddenly pulled out of him. Now he’s just standing in his house with an acquaintance.

You suddenly felt small, minuscule, and very, very stupid. “Oh. Yeah, uh, I should probably get going.”

“What about a drink?” Bucky’s internally panicking now, he didn’t mean to insinuate the intent of leaving.

You shook your head, straightening your posture as you gathered your thoughts. “I can call a ride, it’s no worries. Got tons of stuff to do anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all Bucky said. He wasn’t really sure why he’s apologizing or what it is for.

—

The door clicked closed and Bucky bolts to his workspace, closing down the applications that will implicate him.

He closes all applications but one, a tracking dot. He installed one on your work phone just in case you needed his help and can’t reach out. You’d never know who’s a sick fuck in these days.

Bucky shoots you a text but instead, he got a phone call.

Hey.

Hey.

The sound of the road was muffled on your end, but nonetheless, the car was moving in the right direction.

I’m so sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to...intrude. I just—I really like you, Bucky. I’m sorry I was too forward.

I… Bucky tries to play with time as he chooses his next words carefully, I like you too but I think we’re going too fast.

Your end was quiet, save from the ambient noises.

I guess so. Let’s keep things professional and friendly first, okay?

Okay.

I gotta go, I’m at my place.

The line went dead without as much as a goodbye.

Liar. Why would you lie to him? You have at least fifteen minutes more to go.

Why would you lie to him? Didn't you just say that you liked him? The way you said it was so casual—like it didn’t bother you that you were lying to him. Raised like a liar, die like a thief.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Antinomy

Part 2; things are brewing. VIBE

“Do you know the spiritual meaning of 11? What about in numerology? You’ll find it quite intriguing, funny even… until it starts making sense.” You’ve witnessed and harnessed the way and days he had grown to be; this fic enumerates the trials of the 11th before he became a Harbinger under your care. From strangers to mentor to friends to love- Childe made a grave mistake, now you’re once again strangers.

Pairing -> Childe x Harbinger!Fem!Reader

Word Count -> 5217

Themes -> Friends to admirers, mentor, fluffy, suddenly ANGST

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event) Part 1

Warning -> Blood and injury

Maybe it was stubbornness, his unhinged desire for the thrill of a fight, or you mistaken misguidance. Many possibilities, really, but Childe knows it had nothing to do with all of those. You're not to blame for his mistakes, but he sure as hell would have to pay for the mess he just created.

vi. fontaine

The show felt like a dance made to lure and trance such audience, and despite his resolve and difference in agendas, the strong Harbinger had been victim to the beauty of the show. Of swaying thin clothes and alluring flicks of the hips.

“We’re not co-workers, we don’t know each other, remember that.”

Tambourines and lyres synced through the performance as men and women alike cheered and stumbled to the songs. The Snezhnayan dancers set the bar high in terms of beauty as the Fatui disguised as performers indulged the crowd in symphony and dance, as if the whole nation was under a mania, no one saw and no one heard. They just followed lead as the agents lulled their own targets into a sense of security and joy.

In the middle of the crowd you lead the choreography as the main dancer, distinguished by the colors of your garb and its grandiosity, yet still respectably covered compared to the other performers. Your main objective was to catch the havoc of a man that left the headquarters of your organization in flames at his wake; and yet, it was instead Childe that was allured to your spell.

An intoxicated man had been eyeing your behind with drooling eyes for a while now, and with the assistance of liquid courage, he reached his hand out to get a feel- when it landed on gray pants of firmness. “Oh my, I didn’t know you swing that way, citizen,” you whipped around to see Childe directly behind you, who was also has his head angled to look behind him where a Fontaine man stumbled back in disgust. His hand clutched to his chest as if it were burned. “Sad news tho, I’m off the table, try someone else maybe.”

Before you can register the edge in his voice, he was already guiding you by the hand back to your dancing stride. You were momentarily stunned but devolved into a glare at his current recklessness, “Come now, Lady Viscaria.” He addressed you by your dancer name. “The whole world is high in the clouds around us, this would be a moment no one will remember.” You didn’t even need to look to know he was right, and you succumbed with a sigh.

Childe didn’t realize just how small your hands are compare to his, the softness of it in contrast to the rough texture of his gloves. If he knew, if only he knew, he would have removed them before you had entertained the idea. Your steps were lithe and your turns were grace manifested, eyes closed yet a gentle smile equipped on your face, the ones you had been wearing ever since you started the performance. “So this is how you fight.” He mumbled with his own grin when he had spun you back against his form, your feet glides against the pavement yet barely touching it as you seemingly floated to place. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought you were an Anemo Vision wielder.

Soon enough the square dissipated to give way to the ferocious dance you two had eased into. Steps became more pointed, arms tensed and strong, and the turns was almost reminiscent of martial arts as you seemingly evade each other’s swings. Suddenly a kick aimed to hit his chest forced him to jump back, and at the other side you dropped your foot, a taunting smirk and a condescending gaze set upon him. His blue eyes widened.

And the elegance of the tango from earlier turned into a vicious round of capoeira, powerful kicks and jumps yet not made to touch each other. Your figure leaped into a crescent kick when he had made a sweep to hit your ankles, him immediately rolling to the side to evade the blow. Dropping to the ground with your ankles and knees bent, a leg outstretched you gasped, and went into a running start towards him, “Lift!” A single command yet he knew what he needed to do.

Gripping your hips upon your leap his strong arms easily eased you high up, your legs were kicked high up and one bent farther back and you steadied yourself by gripping on to his shoulders. The atmosphere turned tense and the only sound you can hear were the ragged breaths you heave up close. And the crowd around then explodes into a round of applause.

Childe seemed to have snapped out of a trance from the foreign noise, breaking the eye contact you both held as he slowly placed you down. There was a sudden bashfulness to him then. But was once again pulled away from his reverie when you quite literally pulled him out of the square into a dark alley, eyes glinting dangerously as a toothy smirk donned your lips, “I saw him, the redhead.”

...

The chains felt sentient. As it flies forward to try and capture him, Childe conjured a wave to sweep it away only for it to change angles to strike at him again. It pierced through the pavement he was once on before it moved to retract back to the owner. At the other side, Childe had a glimpse of your more successful fight with the fugitive as your polearm easily deflected the advances of the chains, even if it gets caught sometimes. Your Cryo Vision would always make quick work of freezing and breaking the chains.

None of you expected a non-elemental fight, and this seemed more complicated of a battle than you would have thought. The man carried with him the aura you feel when you use your delusion, you grimly thought as you ducked out of another barrage, sensing the frustration and desperation of the enemy. You were barely breaking a sweat, you’d see his red eyes take notice, and you weren’t even using both of your hands to fight. With another smirk, your Vision then glowed by your side as you raised your arm. The hooded man braced for impact, but instead he felt a force hit his lower half- water current from Childe, and suddenly it solidified to ice upon your avalanche. His hand where the strange device were also covered to render him useless.

An arrow and a spear’s tip was now aimed to his heart. “Well, well, that was a nice fight, Ragnvindr,” you leaned down close enough to see the finer details of his hawk mask, you saw his eyes squint into a glare. He knows he lost. By your side Childe relaxed his arms and dematerialized his bow, the next part should be yours to work on. “Thank you for your dedication, but this atrocity ends now.” You straightened your back and took a step back, angling your spear to his throat. As his eyes close to succumb to death, your head would angle itself slightly to see Childe’s reaction

when a golden flicker appeared past his shoulder.

“CHILDE!” The devil himself felt the air leave his lungs at the force that punched at his chest, enough to immobilize him as he was punted to the ground. Before he could even recover, the pavement around shifted and crumbled to create a wall between him and the frozen Diluc. He heard the ice breaking and two pairs of feet scrambling away. “Fuck, he had an accomplice,” he breathed as he took his stand, about to give chase to the escapees. That is until he registered his mentor-

barely standing with a stalagmite pierced through her stomach.

“Chi...lde.” You gripped the pointed tip of the structure to keep yourself up as your legs started to lose feeling. He was there hovering over you, unsure where to touch or how to assist. Fuck. Fuck. This was his fault. “Go... chase, I’ll be- I’ll be fine...”

And then you blacked out.

vii. seven correspondence

There were multiple parchment of the same color littering his office desk filled with different lengths of paragraphs. Childe's quarters in the palace was cozy and wide, and nothing could be heard but the sound of his fountain pen scratching the surface of the paper with ease.

"Letters are important in Snezhnaya," you perked up from your unfocused gaze from his window, where you silently watched the brewing blizzard manifesting outside. Your eyes made contact with his genuinely gentle ones that still lingered at the task at hand, "why not write one?"

"Letters are commonplace in Snezhnaya," you corrected as you made your way to his side to snoop in his letters. He did not seem to mind. After all you'd pretty much already the whole of his family that one awkward encounter. He was working on the seventh letter and your eyes lingered around the six finished ones: there was one for each younger siblings, one meant for the two older brothers, another for the older sister, and one for his parents. "It's not necessary for me to write, I don't have an address in mind to begin with."

Is that so, he mumbled under his breath before the conversation died down once again to little scratches. A lot of his words had tales to tell about his stay in Fontaine, you realized the most details were poured into the contents for his parents. At the mention of this nation, your hand ghosts over your stomach.

The bandages from long ago had already been dispatched. And yet the stiffness of it has still affected your composure as well as the weird pull of the skin from the stitches. Only a nasty scar was left in its wake to remind you of the failed encounter and it forced you to make drastic wardrobe changes to your performing attire.

You saw Childe's shoulders slightly tense at your action.

"Childe," his grip on the pen tightened yet he kept his head down. You didn't mind. His mind was going overdrive again, probably. "Who are you writing that last letter for?"

He felt like he'd dodged an arrow over the way he had relaxed, slumped down even when he met eyes with better resolution within it. "It's for a special someone," his signature smile was back, "I've met her long ago and I've always made sure to send her a letter yearly as thanks."

Thanks? "Thanks?" The letter (it was short, you realized) was already folded before you could peek at the words within. You knew Childe was good-looking, but for him to have a girlfriend waiting for years as he drowns in his work, quite irrational and yet painful. Painful... to you?

"I've met a girl back when I was 14," he was suddenly up and bustling as he bundled up his letters. Urgent you followed to listen to his tale as best as you can with his long legs. "I never knew her name or her face, but she saved me from the wolves back in Morepesok. I never properly gave her my thanks, so yearly I would leave letters at the woods where she'd gone, and hope that she'll be able to read them and know that I lived because of her." You already halted your advances to chase after him as you stood before the doors of the Palace. He didn't seem to mind, he kept going until he was gone.

...Morepesok was a seaside fishing village with a vast white forest by the edges in which ferocious wolves and bears usually haunt. After your promotion to the Palace, you had never once set foot in the village, much less the woodland. Where you are right now.

You held a steady hand against your stomach as you retraced the familiar route you'd gone, something so far away you would have expected to forget it by now. That was six years ago, you counted as you reached the clearing in horror of its emptiness, there should be six letters here by now.

A snapping twig had you whirling to look behind you. "So, it really was you." His gentle blue orbs had met your widened ones, breathless you both were, but for different reasons.

"So you lied about the letters," the mocking pout on your lips had made him laugh. A sprinkle of red dusts his cheeks, and he was quick to hide it with the familiar letter on his hand.

"I didn't lie about this one," your upturned palms received the crispy envelope, carefully opening the seal and unfolding its contents, "I wanted to make sure I was right."

'Your sacrifice had given me a new chance, a new life, a new beginning. I wish I was there to thank you for protecting me, but this time, I will get stronger and make sure-'

"I'll be the one protecting you from now on." He finished, and the red dust over your own cheeks felt like torches made to melt the mightiest icicles.

viii. fleeting glances

Signora had always been the type of person to only make appearances when necessary, but most of her dirty work were done by her subordinates, her own little army. She's the coordinator and observer at the back as things were weaved into place for her. Like a flower on the wall, the Fair Lady knows and notices details.

The first one was by the entrance, the second was by the veranda. The third, fourth and fifth were by the hallways. The sixth was by the throne room. The seventh was outside. And the eight was that in front of her—

Childe disliked being in the same area or even breathing space as her, this much Signora knew. He was a kid still under training over the ways of the Fatui, but there was nothing more he hated than the way the Fair Lady handles her work, her soldiers. But it came with the aesthetic, and he had no other means to pry until he had finally grasped the way the cogs turn in this organization known as the Fatui.

The youngest Harbinger never looked her directly in the eye or even dare spare her the glance when it was not needed. And in all honesty, it was quite bothersome the first few times. After all, Tartaglia carried with him a certain charm.

His eyes would either narrow or be guarded for any other Harbinger that comes his way, respectful or dismissive, the options fleet through those whenever. But there was one humane and warm look he gives at special occasions, for a special someone, and Signora finally witnessed it in full view and detail—

The crease between his eyebrows would immediately ease as his eyes break free from its squinted, slanted form. The dark depths at the middle would dilate as his expression quirks up, teeth usually visible through parted lips as he dons an easy smile. And Signora would be taken aback by the immediate change as she follows the trail of his stare.

The gold was the first to strike with the way the trinkets hang by the waist, and the warm and mellow colors so contrary to the Fatui colors draws away the unease of onlookers. It was to make sure that no association with the Fatui would be made, that was your calculated explanation was upon your choice of 'uniform.' You've just came from a short trip to Natlan to gather all data to be reported to the Tsaritsa, and during that time the 11th had been under no one's particular care.

You passed by their forms (pass is a strong word, they were off to the far side, honestly) with your report in hand, humming to yourself as you continued your way to the throne room. That demeanor only means that you had good news to tell, good news for everyone.

The glance was gone fast as the moment ended, and his hard look came albeit much lighter this time. But the way Signora smirked signified she'd noticed, and his look only grew stiffer.

"Come now, pretty boy, show that look often."

The Fair Lady's laugh echoed inside the Palace walls as Tartaglia stomps off to where you had gone, to wait after the dusk convention respectfully.

ix. years of employment

Of the many milestones that could have been celebrated, it was done in an odd number at the most peculiar time. Yes, it is no surprise for everyone to know that you had been working for the Fatui for nine whole years now. And honestly, you shouldn't have been surprised that your younger colleague with the weird ways of his Abyss-induced brains, decided that it was time your anniversary be celebrated instead of waiting another year for the double digits mark.

"Please tell me we're not going to your house again," you softly pleaded as Childe continued to guide you through the paths in the main city of Snezhnaya. "As much as I appreciate their caring atmosphere, I'm not too keen on the idea of pretending to be the head honcho of the toy-selling company of Snezhnaya."

To this, Childe guffawed to a boisterous laugh, pulling his hand away from your back to clutch at his convulsing stomach. You pursed your lips in distaste of his reaction, but then it would loosen up to a smile as you watched him still try to catch his breathe.

After that, the trip had continued with only small chatter in between as you descended further to the edges of the city. You haven't been to this area, simply because of the fact that there were no patrols needed around the cityless wasteland where you are headed, and the glint of surprise had fixed a knot at Childe's back. Relief painted his face.

And you found yourself in front of a frozen lake, with hanging lights decorating the leafless trees by it, and a small table filled to the brim with food. "Lady toyseller!" You shot a glare at your student who averted his gaze away easily to focus on his other siblings. This heretic lied—

"Big brother said it's a special occasion! To commemorate your anniversaries for being in the toyselling business!" Your glare died down to a look of confusion, and the family gathered back into a homely atmosphere. So it seems that Childe coincidentally joined the Fatui the same day as you, two years apart. And he said nothing about it.

"We've been celebrating since the last three years, if we had known, you could have been with us!" And with that you were pulled in by Tonia to the table where her mother was, congratulating you for your hardwork and patience as she offers you to taste some of the food they had brought for the picnic.

"I know you've been helping my son ever since he became a Harbinger," you looked up to Childe's mother in wonder as your mouth was currently stuffed with her delicious homemade Pelmeni. She gave a light laugh at the sight of your wide, curious eyes paired with stuffed cheeks. "Childe mentioned how you saved him when he ran away from him..." and the mother continued to spill the details you were never given the chance to hear from the man himself.

You suppose this was the cause of your perfectly crafted aura of trust, to lure in your targets and make them spill to their heart's contents as you indulge them. In the end, Childe's mother's true intention was to thank you for all that you had done for her son, and to help him cultivate into the best person he could be among the ranks of the Harbinger. You gulped the last bits of the dumpling, a shy smile placated on your cheek, "It is my honor to take him under my wing."

"Hey, master, I sure hope mum didn't say anything embarrassing about me while I was gone!" A hand holding a tissue softly wiped the cream at the edge of your lips as Childe- Ajax finally made his way over to your table.

"It's okay, really, it's normal for children to pee their bed." You mused as Childe's mother laughed at the way her son choked over his own spit. Ah, you were right.

The rest of the day was filled with ice-skating, something you have forgotten, clumsily held up by the three younger siblings as they expertly excelled in the field. And right after was a session of ice fishing with their father, who was greatly impressed by your strength upon reeling the 50-centimeter long tuna. Flopping on to the ice platform as if to chase the children on land.

"Don't want to stay? There's a spare room here, you can borrow my big sister's clothes for the night. It's a long way back to the Palace," he stood next to you outside the entrance of his home while you face the other direction.

You sighed. "Tartaglia, I'm your mentor. And as the 10th Harbinger, your ascension should be my priority." You didn't see the way his jaw clenched at the intonations of your words. "If it were a different circumstance-"

"Next week," the snow caught on to your lashes as you closed your eyes, basking at the cold that bites at your cheeks. "Will be my last try. And after that, please see me as your equal."

"Alright." Your hands trembled.

x. final spar

Fatuus lined the veranda surrounding the quadrangle in quiet anticipation, skirmishers and agents alike that had yet to be assigned under Harbinger supervision and even those who just had nothing better to do.

Childe had anticipated the spotlight, but it was a greater scale he was not comfortable on. He was lucky a Harbinger had yet to watch the spar, the last spar as he had promised, and it seemed the gossip had spread enough to alert the whole organization. The Delusion mask sat by the side of his hair as he watched you at the other end of the field.

Your eyes held no emotion as they stared through his soul. A different kind of emotion he'd have wanted to see. He thinks to himself at the thought of you once being in the same predicament as him, did you feel the same fear and worry as he did? Did it take you ten tries? Maybe more, maybe less?

Tartaglia said this will be the last spar, and the final chance for both sides to make it a fair fight (to give it their all). But when you suddenly disappeared and materialized above him with your spear ready to strike, he thought, maybe not this time either.

The spear collided with the dirt floor as blades of winds seem to have exploded from it, a series of gasps resounding through the crowd as they stepped away from the edge. Tartaglia softly landed back on his feet after the successful somersault, materializing his water polearm to strike his elemental slash from the distance. But you stood still, unscathed as the wave that was meant to slice you turned into ice before it could come any closer. Fuck, Tartaglia knew his Vision was weak to yours.

You charged at him once again with the boost of your Anemo delusion, your polearms clashing painfully as you both tried to get hits on each other. There was a nick at this cheek to draw the first blood, your dominant hand twirling the spear easily Tartaglia retreats back to avoid the wildly spinning blade.

Soon enough he dons his own mask and the real fight begins. Electric currents ran through the field as an icy fog starts to envelop the floor, superconduct reaction running the parameter of the field as the Fatuus back away further. The next time your blades meet, a crackle of lightning resounded through the whole palace. Smacking his blades upward, your spear quickly sweeps down to swipe at this ankles, forcing him to leap as the fog obscures the reach of your polearm. Mid-air, he was kicked on the chest as your acrobatic arms held you up and over.

Soon enough his hunger for victory begins to manifest, and his biggest advantage comes into play: overwhelming strength.

Tartaglia felt huge triumph when you finally used both of your hands to parry his blows, your feet sometimes sinking into the dirt floor under the pressure of his attack. For the first time in the fight, your facade cracked with a grimace as you held your polearm up against his dual blades. Quickly leaning away, you brought your foot up and pushed at the spear's shaft, enough to force him back as you leaped out of his range. There was sweat trickling at the back of your neck now, feeling the sizzle of the current on the slight moisture. You swiped your spear in a crescent motion as a snow avalanche bombarded Tartaglia's side when he tried to approach, giving you just enough time to breathe as he tries to free himself under the snow.

By the time he's set himself free, you were already running forwards with your hands gripping your spear at your right for a swiping motion. He fashions his dual blades as he too sprinted in the middle to clash, weapons encased with frost and electricity. In a split second, his arms raised to your left, knowing this was your non-dominant side would make it easy to send you flying at the angle of approach. A powerful blow against another was about to shake the whole Palace—

"Columbina!" The vagrant's voice pierced through the crackle of elements, and Tartaglia's eyes widened when he had noticed your foot slip at the distraction. The inertia of his arms unable to stop the course of action; superconduct and electro-charged reactions creating a powerful explosion as the iced fog seem to have imploded from the force.

Childe's moist hands trembled as his vision tries to refocus. There's a ringing in his ears as he tries to grip at his hands, the electricity coursing through his nerves to make it numb. He desperately closed and opened his fists, and when he finally settled his sights straight, the dripping red liquid had splattered all the way to his mask and arms. With hesitation his sights followed the trail of blood and frost splayed across the field barely visible as the mist still covered the floor with a thin veil, his steps halted at the sound of glass crunching underneath his shoes, and he didn't need to look to know what it was.

"GET THE MEDIC NOW, PREPARE THE INTENSIVE CARE UNIT!" Pedrelino's voice reverbed through the field as the few agents that finally recovered from the shock went into emergency actions, some running off and some running to the direction of where the blood trail ends.

There was an obvious pool of blood forming under you, as your whole torso was littered with the same redness. Your left ribcage was angled inwards in an anomalous way as the dual blades had logged itself in between the ribs. You were already unconscious as blood dripped from the side of your lips;

how unfortunate, Childe collapsed to his knees in front of you. You didn't get to congratulate him.

xi. eleventh of the fatui harbinger

His mission had been explained to him concisely and accurately alongside Signora's assignment right after he had been acknowledged as officially part of the Fatui. The throne room had itself full of the Harbingers (with a glaring absence of one) as the Tsaritsa empowered him with her will and concise plan, the gravity of the law and order of the universe and its incoming divine war finally weighing on his shoulders. It was, after all, his wish to end the ministrations of being under someone's supervision and finally walk his path of conquering.

A month after the fight had him standing by the piers of the Snezhnayan ocean. Here he will finally depart to Liyue where his true mission lays, as well as the franchise of the Northland Bank he'd have to oversee. The influx of information for both his and the other's works had his head reeling, pleading silently at the hope that you'd be there to reassure and clarify what exactly he needs to do.

But you're not. In fact, Childe hasn't seen you in the whole month after that fight. He was prohibited from approaching your ward as you were still unstable and fragile to risk; no, everyone was not allowed to enter, he assured himself. He had not seen nor heard you throughout the grieving process of a moment he should have been proud to boast.

During that time, Childe had also adamantly avoided Scaramouche.

He heaved a tired sigh as the consequences weighed his resolve once again, were you still unconscious? Are you still in critical condition or are you recovering? If things ended ever so differently, would you be there next to him to wave him off to his first major assignment? "Liyue, huh, that's a pretty nice nation."

Childe produced a strangled noise when he turned to his right, where you stood, watching the ocean horizon. Your hair was slightly disheveled yet framed your face naturally. There were bandages wrapped all over your torso, peeking out from the sleeves of your unusually covered attire, and your left arm settled on a sling meant to lessen the constraints of your side instead of sporting an actual broken limb. When Childe's calculating gaze settled on your face, you had a calm expression.

"Congratulations, you're finally on your way to your first mission."

"Thank you, although I heard it's quite different from what I'm used to. Besides seafood, too many new customs."

You produced a soft gasp as your eyes widened slightly. Childe stood guard, waiting for you to tell him what was wrong. "I'm a failure of a mentor," what. His eyes watched as you turned to face him (as he did) with an amused glint in your eyes paired by a light smirk. "I didn't get to teach you how to use chopsticks."

His face dropped into a deadpan, before you two harmonized into bouts of varying laughter. Your other hand placed itself on your chest to minimize the vibrations of your giggles, not wanting to put pain into yourself. A flash of hurt recognition passed through his eyes.

"Master, I'm so-"

"(Y/N)." You immediately interjected as you gazed at him past your eyelashes. His breath hitches.

"Ah, (Y/N)," you nodded at his experimental taste of your name and urged him to continue. He opens his mouth before closing it again, a silent debate within the depths of his brain, before his lips parted with a different thought. "Teach me when I come back, please?"

Your eyes widen in surprise and amusement, "I'm sure you'd pick it up easily."

You're not wrong, but he's adamant. "Nah, I'm sure I wouldn't, I heard they're really a handful. I'd rather wait for you."

Giggling again, you raised your mobile hand as he did own, exchanging the most genuine smile. "Okay, pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

I wrote this for two hours straight to the point that my left arm doesn't work anymore....

@moaa @kookieyachi @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @dandelion-dreams @snackgod @rxsalinee

[castthy-nightedcolour]

One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse

Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they

Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.

Word Count: 2778

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182

If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:

-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.

-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.

-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.

All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.

Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.

The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.

‘Y/N? Is that you?’

You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.

You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’

You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.

He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.

Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.

In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.

Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.

‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.

‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’

‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’

You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.

‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’

Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.

‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.

‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.

‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.

‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.

‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.

‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.

The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.

‘Can I give you a lift?’

—

After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.

You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,

‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’

You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.

‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.

‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.

You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.

‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.

‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.

‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’

‘Snake.’

You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.

‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’

Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.

You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.

‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’

‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘

‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’

‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.

‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’

Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.

What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.

Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.

You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.

But it was so, so beautiful.

Moving.

And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.

Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.

Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.

There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.

The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.

You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.

‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’

The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.

You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?

Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.

There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.

‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.

The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’

Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.

Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.

‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘

He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.

‘Do it again. Turn back.’

The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.

‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’

The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.

‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’

You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.

And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...

Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.

The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.

‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.

Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.

‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.

Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.

Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.

‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’

Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.

‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.

This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.

And of course, he made you blush too.

A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.

[amessywritersmind]

Beating Around the Bush - L.S.

Pairings: Luke Skywalker x reader

Warnings: maybe some cursing but other than that, Just fluff :-)

Summary: Luke meets a daring, charismatic pilot leader he just can’t get out of his head. 

“Hey! (y/n)! Nice flying today!” Your bestfriend Biggs laughs out as the hatch on his x-wing pops open, allowing him to climb down from the pilots seat.

“yeah yeah. Laugh it up chuckles. You know damn well I usually beat you! Today was just an off day.” You faked a pout, crossing your arms across your chest and pushing out your bottom lip as he ruffled your hair. 

“Hey cut it out!” you laughed, pushing his hand away, causing him to swing his arm around your shoulders, beginning to lead you out of the x-wing hanger and towards the common area. 

As the two of you approached, you noticed a large crowd gathered around something...or someone! As soon as you caught a glimpse of white, you rushed towards the group, laughing as you shoved the other Alliance members aside, making your way to the center of the group. 

“(y/n)!” the figure exclaimed, the person you’d been hoping to see here the most. 

“Leia!” You said, rushing forward and flinging your arms around the princess.

“You’re safe! You’re back! I knew you’d be ok!” You nearly cried with joy seeing your bestfriend, safe and sound, back at the base.

You pulled back quickly, giving her a once over to make sure there were no injuries before you began firing questions at her. She was like a sister to you, and you were sick with worry when you’d heard the news that she’d been captured.

“How’d you escape? How’d you get back here? When did you get back here? I was so worried about you! I knew though, I had a feeling you’d be ok-” You started, not pausing for a single breath the whole time. 

“(y/n)! Calm down! I’m ok, I’m here now. “ Leia laughed out, a bright smile on her face at the sight of her chaotic bestfriend. 

“Woah, didn’t know the princess was capable of a smile.” you heard someone mutter under their breath, cutting the happy reunion short. 

You finally moved your line of vision away from Leia, noticing that the crowd had mostly dispersed from around the two of you, save for you, Leia, Biggs, two strange Droids, a Wookie, and two men you’d never seen before in your life. You notice the blonde one of the two in a joyful conversation with Biggs, as if they’d know each other forever, while the other man looked at you and Leia impatiently, having been the one who made the comment. You chose to ignore his snappy tone, sending a smile his way as you look to Leia for an explanation. Leia sighed and rolled her eyes at him before looking back towards you. 

“This is the insufferable Han Solo-” Leia starts.

“Yeah, I’M the one who’s insufferable” Han scoffs out. 

“ - and his partner, Chewbacca. They’re the majority of my rescue party.” Leia explained, sending another glare Hans way for the interruption but not acknowledging it any further. You let out a giggle at their antics. 

“It’s very nice to meet you!” You said cheerfully, sending a wave in their direction. 

Before you could ask any more questions, you felt a gentle tap on your leg. You look down to see the tinier of the two droids beeping at your feet. You bent down slightly, meeting the height of the droid, the smile never leaving your face. 

“Well, hello little guy! What’s your name?” You asked gently. You received your reply in a series of beeps.

“Artoo? I’m (y/n). It’s wonderful to meet you!” You said, shuffling back up after giving the droid a gentle pat, causing him to set off a series of beeps and flashes as he excitedly whirred about at your feet. You laughed at this. 

“And who might you be?” You questioned kindly, turning to the taller, golden droid. 

“Oh my! How rude of me, I didn’t even introduce myself! My name is C3PO human cyborg relations, but everyone calls me Threepio. It’s an honor to meet you Miss (y/n)!” He said, waving his arms around. You laughed at the properness of his speech. 

“Just (y/n) is fine, Threepio. It’s wonderful to meet you as well.” You concluded with a smile. 

You turned back to Leia to see her and Han in another argument, yet again. 

“Alright you two!” You said loudly, laughing at the looks on their faces. 

“As much as I love to see you back and kicking, Princess” You started, mocking Han’s choice of a nickname for her. 

“I really need to go clean up after todays ride. I’ll swing by yours later though? It seems we have some, uh, catching up to do” You giggled quietly, shifting your eyes ever so slightly towards Han. Leia’s face turned red at that, quickly covering it up with a roll of her eye. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say. I’ll see you later.” She mumbled, feigning upset. 

You laughed and turned away from the small group, making your way towards your room, and eventually, the showers, but not before your heard Leia call out behind you. 

“(y/n)! It looks like you have an admirer!” She called. 

You stopped, confused, and turned around, only to see Artoo hot on your heels. 

“Where are you going little guy?” You asked the droid.

He, as he usually does, replied in a series of beeps and whistles. You laughed at his reply. 

“Oh alright. I’ll take you to the repair rooms and get you fixed up, maybe throw in a little a polish. How does that sound?” you suggested. 

“Uh, miss (y/n)? Do you think there’s a possibility that I could maybe get a hot oil bath?” Threepio asks sheepishly. 

“Of course. Let’s go you two. Tell whoever owns them where they are will you? “ You said to the bickering pair across the way. 

“Yeah, sure thing.” Han says dismissively. 

(y/n) spent hours in that repair room, and soon her work on the droids was done. Just as she was finishing up tightening the last loose bolt on Artoo, a voice in the doorway caught her attention. 

“Woah! They look better than new!” A boy, around her age, called to her. 

“Oh my!” She gasped, slightly startled by the voice, dropping her tool on the ground with a loud clank. This caused both of them to break into laughter. She looked up to find the voice belonged to the boy she saw talking with Biggs earlier. 

“Thank you so much for all this! You didn’t have to, really!” He said, taking a step further. At this comment, Artoo whirled and wizzed behind (y/n). 

“You must be their owner! It’s really no problem at all, Mr....” (y/n) trailed off due to a lack of a name for this stranger. 

“Skywalker! Luke Skywalker. You can just call me Luke though..” He stuttered out, suddenly bashful. (y/n) chuckled at this. 

“Well, Luke, like I said. It’s really no trouble. I’ve grown to quite like this little guy!” she said, tapping artoo on the head gently. 

“Plus, you saved the princess didn’t you? My bestfriend is home safe and sound because of you. It really was the least I could do. Now, If you’ll excuse me. I could kill for a shower! It was lovely to meet you Luke!” She called, moving past him to make her way towards the showers.

Over the next few weeks at the base, Luke found himself doing whatever he possibly could to get time with (y/n), learning much about her and becoming quite close with the pilot. He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious, especially when he volunteered for dish duty solely because he knew it was (y/n)’s turn to do the dishes on the base. He hated dishes, but it was worth it.

After dinner, he made his way to the kitchens to complete said chore, finding (y/n) already there. Her hair was braided intricately into an updo, probably Leia’s doing, and she had both her hands submerged in the basin of bubbly water.

Luke sidled up next to her, rolling up his sleeves and beginning to get to work on the dishes. It was silent for a while between the two, though Luke did not miss the tiny smile ever present on her face.

About halfway through their load, (y/n) stopped suddenly, unable to contain her curiosity anymore. 

“Why do you do it, Luke?” she questioned casually, not even sparing a glance in his direction. Luke tensed up slightly, nervous about what she could possibly be asking him about. 

“W-what do you mean?” He coughed nonchalantly, trying his best to seem unphased by her question. At this, she stopped her washing, turning to him with a knowing smile on her face. 

“Why do you keep volunteering for all of these jobs? I know you hate washing dishes Luke. Plus, you’re a hero. You saved the princess! Hero’s don’t have to do common chores like washing the dishes.” she stated, matter of fact like. 

Luke’s face instantly turned red, his soapy hand coming up to awkwardly rub at the back of his neck. 

“well, you see...I um....uhhhh” He scrambled, trying to find the right words as (y/n) turned back to the task at hand, quickly finishing the remaining dishes. 

By the time she had finished and pulled the drain in the basin, Luke was still scrambling for an explanation. 

“Luke” (y/n) called softly, placing a hand on his arm. He stopped his rambling immediately, crossing his arms in an uncomfortable fashion. 

“Its ok!” She laughed out gently, the sound like music to his ears. His face turned a deeper shade of red at this. 

“I like you too, y’know? I thought I was being pretty obvious, but you didn’t seem to be catching my drift.. That’s why I asked that. I just had to make sure. Your reaction was all the confirmation I needed” She admitted, giggling again. A sigh of relief fell from Luke’s lips, not even thinking before he rushed forward and planted his lips square on her own. 

They both pulled back after a moment, dazed by the whole experience. 

“You know, If you wanted to go out with me you could’ve just asked. It would have saved me so much trouble.” Luke stated under his breath, his forehead still pressed to hers.

“I could say the same to you, Mr. Skywalker.” 

[luckysevenwrites]

Wait you’re an idol?

Y/n and Taeyong have been talking ever since they met at the nigth club two weeks ago. During the latest conversation Taeyong drops a surprise on Y/n and he waits to see how they are going to handle the new. This is part of the long term couples series.

             As the final note to the music comes to a close you collapse onto the ground, breathing heavy, and to tired to move towards your water bottle. You look at yourself in the wall of mirrors. Your face is flush, cheeks red. You have been practicing for hours. You probably should have given it quits a while ago, but you were restless today and dancing seemed to be the only thing that was calming you down. You had thought about leaving but every time you started to pack up your mind started to run wild, and you found yourself in front of the mirror again. You hear your phone ping and pull yourself up from the floor and over to your phone.

           Pulling your phone out of your bag you see a message from Taeyong, and you feel your lips pulling up into a smile. The two of you have been talking back and forth now for about two weeks. You liked talking with him. He had a way of making you laugh and was always sending you cute videos of himself or videos of him dancing that were not cute in anyway and made your mind go to mush. Opening the text, you see that it’s another video from him.

           Pressing play, you watch as he dances for you. Each of his steps is smooth and precise as you watch him you listen to the song and wonder who it is that is singing? You have never heard the song before, but you like it, it makes you want to dance yourself. Playing the video again you find yourself standing mimicking the moves that Taeyong is doing. You play it a few more times to make sure that you have the moves down before you text Taeyong back.

           Y/n: amazing dance moves. But what song is this I haven’t heard it before?

           You exist out of your messaging app and think back to the first time that you had met Taeyong. It was his dance moves that night that drew you in. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and before you knew it the two of you were dancing together. It was something new for you. Usually, people couldn’t keep up with you but, Taeyong had no problem keeping pace with you. Then afterwards he had asked for your number and the two of you have been texting or talking to one another ever since. Your phone pings letting you know that Taeyong has responded to you.

           Taeyong: Your moves are better. It’s my song it’s not released yet so don’t share it with anyone.

           What did he mean by it was his song and that it wasn’t released yet? You read over the text message again to make sure that you had read it correctly. Yup, he said it was his song. How many talents did this guy have, first he could dance, now he can sing? He is also handsome that’s not really a talent, but you thought that it should be added to the list.

           Y/n: I’m sorry what do you mean by YOUR song?

           Taeyong: I mean it’s my song and it’s about to released in a few weeks.

           Nope, still cannot follow it. There is no way that he is also producing music alongside being an amazing dancer. Out of the two of you, you thought that you would be the one with more surprises up their sleeve then him. Your phone starts to ring in your hand. Looking down you see that it’s Taeyong calling. You answer the facetime and bring the phone up to your face.

           “You can rap?” Is your greeting to Taeyong. He lets out a laugh and you smile at you look at him through your phone. You can only see his face his blonde hair is peeking out from under his baseball cap.

           “Hello to you too,” he smiles.

           “Hi Taeyong,” you roll your eyes before continuing on, “now can you please explain the song.”

           For a moment Taeyong looks bashful and hesitant and you wonder what he is about to tell you. He clearly has talent as a dancer and a singer and is trying to break out into the industry. You don’t know why he is acting suddenly nervous it’s not like he is bad at either. You wait for him to tell you what is going on and give him a smile that you hope lets him know that you are listening and here to support him.

           “I don’t know if I should be happy or hurt that you don’t already know who I am but, I’m an idol. I’m in a group called NCT 127,” Taeyong finishes and just shrugs once he’s done.

           “Wait, so you are an idol? Like a living, breathing, performing idol,” you lean into the screen stressing each of the words as you get in closer to the phone.

           “Yes, I’m a living, breathing, performing idol,” he confirms and blushes a little. You find it enduring.

           “I can’t believe that you are an idol. I mean I can because you are awesome. I just cannot believe that I didn’t realize it. Once this call is over, I’m going to look up your groups work and see if I recognize any of it.”

           “You do that and let me know what you think once you listen to some of our stuff.”

           “I can’t believe that I’m crushing on an idol who is also crushing on me. What are the chances?” You laugh throwing yourself backwards onto the floor and hold the phone up above you. Taeyong blushes more and it causes to you laugh even harder. “This is wild.”

           “Is that good?” Taeyong questions.

           “It is a good thing.” You watch as Taeyong relaxes, and you hadn’t realized how stressed he was about telling you he was an idol. Now that you think about it, he was probably really worried about how you were going to react. You could either want to end things because you didn’t want to deal with the stress and having to keep things quiet. Or you would see it as an opportunity and use him for your benefit.

           “Taeyong, I don’t like you any more or less because you are an idol. I like you because I feel a connection to you and because you are the only person who I have ever danced with and it’s felt like we’ve been dancing together for years, not just a few minutes.” Taeyong smiles and bows his head forward making it impossible for you to see his face. When Taeyong sits up again his face is serious.

           “I know but sometimes people are just with me because of who I am or what I can do for them. They don’t want to be with me because they actually like me for me.” He tells you and it makes your heart squeeze at the thought of people not wanting to be with Taeyong just because he is Taeyong.

           “I’m sorry that you have gone through that, but I promise you that I am not with you because you are an idol, and I don’t know how to convince of you that other than to ask you to trust me and let me show you that I’m with you because of you who are.”

           “You don’t have to prove anything to me Y/n,” He assures you before a mischievous look crosses his face, “but if you want to convince me you’ll go out on a date with me two weeks from now, Friday.”

           “Two weeks?” You question.

           “It’s when I have off next. Are you in?” Of course, you are in you haven’t seen Taeyong since the night of the club and while you enjoy your phone conversations you want more. You want to see him in person again.

           “Let’s do it.” You tell him.

           “It’s a date. I have to get back to work now. I’ll talk to you later.”

           “I’ll talk to you later. Have a good night.” Taeyong smiles at you and gives you a small wave before he hangs up. You smile at the now blank phone. You have a date two weeks from now with Taeyong and you cannot wait to see what he has planned for the two of you.

[internalsealpanic]

The Dog and Duck

summary: Dick Grayson is a terrible flirt (in more ways than one).

a/n: Special thanks to @jd-loves-everyone, @littleredwing89, @glorified-red, and @multifandomgirl-us for proofreading! This fic is based on a headcanon by @pricetagofficial (I think) that Dick Grayson is actually terrible at flirting which is just the cutest thing.

warnings: Potential cringe and terrible flirting advice

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

The sound of voices and clinking of glasses mingle around you like a bustling symphony: discordant, rhythmic, clashing but endlessly vibrant. The scent of alcohol hung thick in the air, enough to taste and intoxicate. The amount of people in such a small space made something under your skin hum, whether it was simply an irritable Yasiri or the buzzing energy stored in your bones or maybe even a genuine discomfort, you weren’t entirely sure.

You sip lightly at the scotch in your glass, letting it burn through your throat, but it wasn’t enough to make the itch in it go away completely. 

 You watch Dick’s eyes intently as they slide past you, just over your shoulder. His sentences coalesce clumsily, syllables squishing and clipping at odd ends as his plush bottom lip catches between his teeth. His eyes are glossy with interest even in the dim lights of the pub. His pupils are blown and dark. You fight everything in you to stamp down the urge to huff or roll your eyes. Not that he would have noticed. You’re pretty sure you could stab someone in the eye and Dick wouldn’t even blink, not when he is so enraptured by whatever the hell is behind you. You feel a gross sticky sort of jealousy pool in the pit of your stomach.  You swallow it down not really knowing of any other way to deal with it. 

 You arch a brow, the tips of your nails tapping loudly against the lacquered wood of the table as Dick once again stumbles absentmindedly over his story about Wally West being living proof of the need for warning labels (for people). You click your teeth irritably while Yasiri’s tail rattles against your collarbone before you take another sip, eyes following his only for them to land on a vivacious redhead at the bar. The irritation bubbling in your veins dwindles into mild amusement. Your best friend is a hilariously predictable moron. 

 “She is either a suspect or you’re being a creep.” You tease, the cruel curve of your lips barely obscured by the glass pressed against them. The mockery in your eyes shining amber like the drink in your glass. Dick’s cheeks flush as the playful lilt in your voice lances through the fog in his mind. He looks at you, dopey and red-cheeked as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. You roll your eyes, nostrils flaring letting out a breath caught between a huff and a laugh. “Stalker.” You hiss, trying to smother the warmth in your voice with sheer, unadulterated pettiness. 

 Dick levels you a look, cutting and vicious if he wasn’t flushed. “Am not.” He whines halfheartedly, eyes flicking once again to the woman at the bar. Some part of you is sure you really ought to be mad at him. After all, you haven’t seen each other for almost half a year. This is thanks in part to work and in part to work getting royally fucked up. Thankfully, not because of Gotham’s resident furry and his new little bird boy. Really, you should be furious at being sidelined considering this outing was his idea but here you were smirking into your malt whiskey, tickled. 

 “Then stop staring.” You challenge, unfolding and relaxing into the moldy cushioning of the bar. Dick glares at you, the pout on his lips obscured by his hand as he rests his chin on his palm but you know it’s there. You’ve memorized the plains of his face and how they shaped themselves, a product of spending far too much time staring at the details.  Hey, if he was gonna third wheel you the least you could do was tease him about it. “Or do you want me to wingman for you~”

 “HELL NO”

 You can’t stop the cackle that spills from your lips. “Why not?!”

 “I’m not letting you cockblock me. AGAIN.”

 “That was one tiiime, Joystick.”

 “Once was enough!" 

 "’Fiiiine but to be fair,  you still ended up dating her, didn’t you?” You defended weakly, running your fingers through your hair, jostling the already wind whipped strands. Dick was red-faced. The liquor was definitely working through his system. The color in his cheeks was lively and cute, making him look boyish despite how much he’d grown. You had, in fact, cockblocked him due to an extreme bout of jealousy, childishness, and hormones. Back then you hadn’t yet learned the art of burying your feelings 6 feet under.

 “Fine, fine, fine. Just shoot your shot, Dickie bird.” This does not appease him. He, in fact, crosses his arms over his chest. You set your glass down and raise your brow. “If you fail, I’ll buy you a round.” You add placatingly. Dick’s eyes slide over your shoulder, the lump in his throat bobbing.“Make that two.” 

 Your eyes shine, cat-like the dim lighting of the lamp overhead. You smile at him all cocksure, placing your chin on your intertwined fingers.“Deal.”

 Dick gives you a withering look as he pushes off the table. You take a sip of your daiquiri as he moves through the crowd, gracefully slicing through the sea of bodies. No, maybe they were parting just for him. Dick does have that air about him. A pull that made it so painfully obvious that he was so much more. Dick also had this way of talking that made you unsure of whether you’re being flirted with or if it’s just the way he talks to people. Either way, he had this way of making you feel special and you had no doubt he would sweep this one off her feet.  

 The redhead at the bar tipped her head finally sensing his gaze on her and as per your expectation, she seemed to reciprocate the interest. Not that you can blame her. Dick was a 10 on his worst day. Now that you thought about it, you’ve never actually seen Dick flirt. You’ve seen him banter but flirt? You can’t seem to think of an instance of it. This’ll be fun. 

 You watch him closely and your brows climb higher than you thought they could. Something was off, something very un-Dick-like. There’s an unsteadiness in his step that makes your stomach sink. Dick wouldn’t. Even Dick wasn’t stupid enough to blow his shot just to get a few shots, would he?

 And then it happened.

 “Did it hurt when you hit your face?” Dick asks, winking stiffly. A ripple of pain lances through you followed by an unbearable wave of second-hand embarrassment. “Excuse me?!” Her face morphs into something terrifying before Dick’s brain can catch up. You watch in mute horror as Dick’s face slowly matches the sinking feeling in your gut as embarrassment suffused his entire body. 

 “Wait, shit. I- I meant- Shit. I didn’t mean to say you look like you banged your face. I mean, of course, you don’t-” You watch in fascination as Dick stumbles through apology after apology after apology. Until finally, he gives up. “Actually, I’ll just leave.” Dick shambles gracelessly back to your table while your brain tries to process what just happened. 

 You wheeze against the table, pounding your fist against the table. “Dickie, yanno you did have a shot before you opened your mouth, right?” Your hand is clamped over your mouth trying to stop the shrill cackle bubbling in your throat. 

 “Y/n...” 

 “Jeez, Dicktopus, was gin really worth getting blue balled?”

 “You better have your money,” he sneers, cutting you a scathing look as he slides into the booth. 

 “I-” The smug look on your face vanishes when you reach into your wallet. “If I apologize for you, will you cut me some slack?” you try, brandishing your nearly empty wallet. 

 “I’ll buy you a shot if she doesn’t tell you to fuck off.”

 “Hmm, if I get her number for you, will you get me two?”

 “Sure, why not?” Dick whines petulantly. His head sinks into his arms desperately trying very hard  to implode. You cough into your sleeve trying not to laugh and hope he doesn’t notice. A blush creeps up the tanned skin of his neck. He tries to hide it by placing his hand on his neck but the color’s already made its way to his ears. Feeling a little bad for him, you squeeze Dick’s shoulder once, then twice, then twice once more. You swing your legs dramatically out of the booth. You hear Dick groan and you chuckle. 

 You flick your eyes to him one last time before moving forward. You roll your shoulders, realigning your form into something more suave and less goofy. The rhythm of your feet goes from a clumsy shuffle to a confident saunter. The woman looks at you skeptically, her lashes fluttering mockingly. You move, easy and casual. With a playful grin, you apologize and make up some bullshit excuse about Dick being extremely shy. She eases. You continue on your little sales pitch as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  You draw a laugh out of her. You can hear her heart pick up. She smiles at you telling you that you and your shy friend are fine. You chuckle and promise to tell your long-suffering friend that, tilting your chin towards Dick who is still trying to melt into the table. She scribbles her number onto a napkin and hands it to you with a flirtatious wink. You smile lopsided, cute and sheepish, as you wave her goodbye.

 Dick stares at you with slack-jawed awe. This time you feel genuinely bashful but you shrug it away with a sharklike grin spreading across your face.

“Pay up, pretty bird,” you say slamming the number on the table, teeth gleaming in the low light of the room. The petty satisfaction oozing off of you is almost palpable. Dick looks up at you, his pretty mouth twisting.  “What are you? Seven?”

 “If by seven you mean lucky, then yeah,” you sneer, nudging your empty shot glass against Dick’s shoulder. “Pay up, Dickenson~” you sing. Dick’s face twists even more and he waves you off, pushing off the table.

 “Let’s just go,” Dick bites out, cheeks burning. You bite your lips trying to resist the urge to tease him more but it’s hard. Not when he’s all pouty and cute.  

 “I mean you did just wine and dine me,” you laugh musically. You promised yourself you would stop teasing him but you never said you would stop making jokes. There’s a complicated expression on Dick’s face before it shifts back to exasperation. 

 “You. Are. Awful.”

 You shake your head not even denying it as you follow him out of the old Dog and Duck into the fresh Bludhaven air. 

“How are you good at this?” Dick whines into one of your throw pillows. The poorly counterfeit superman one he had gotten you a few years ago from a trip to the Philippines. He's pouting at you like a kid. To be fair, you did laugh at him in the club (and the whole way back to your safehouse which was not a short walk).

 You chuckle, tapping a cool can of beer against his forehead.“Sadly some of us need to work at being charming, Dimples McGee.” He accepts the can, scowling at you. Your grin doesn’t waver which only serves to deepen his scowl. It was an irritating feedback loop. Well, irritating for Dick. You’re having the time of your life. You settle on the other side of the couch rolling your beer can in your hand. “ Plus, you’ve seen pops talk right? The man sweet talks like his life depends on it.” 

 “Right, I’ll remember to ask him for flirting advice next time he tries to kill me,” Dick says, rolling his eyes at you. You perk up at the awful idea before you snicker and press a hand to your lips in a barely held back smile. It’s Dick’s turn to perk up. His blue eyes shine with interest at your expression like he’s trying to capture it. You turn to him with a serious expression. “Please, please ask him that. I will pay you to record his reaction. Please. Please. Dickle, please,” you beg, moving on your knees to his side, your hands clasped in prayer.  Dick shifts sticking his tongue out at you childishly. 

 “Noooooo!”

 “Pleeeeeeaaaaaseee”

 “No!”

 With an ‘oof’, you plop yourself between Dick’s legs, your chest against his. You stare up at him with eyes mimicking the wide-eyed innocent look he uses on you when he asks for a favor. Dick gives you a sorry look asking you to please drop it. You don’t. You double down trying to look as cute as possible. 

 Dick looks down at you, glaring then grimacing then smiling. “Ok, fine,” he huffs stiffly, wrapping his arms around you. You snuggle up against him, smug in your victory.  Your nose brushes against Dick’s pulse which makes his breath hitch. He squirms under you but you just find yourself laughing. “You. Are. Evil. ”

 “I promise to make your Granny’s goulash,” you say in a halfhearted attempt to appease him. Dick’s face softens  “Now, that’s just bribery.”

 “You’re gonna be a cop here in Bludhaven. You gotta learn how to take bribes.”

 His brows crease as you shake your head. Dick huffs, planting his chin against the crown of your head before pressing his lips to your hair. You feel one of his arms pulling you closer, his hand threading through the tangle of your hair. You smile against his skin, breath tickling him which just makes him squirm. He’s breathless under your touch and you don’t even know it. You two sit basking in the close proximity and the soft intimacy you two shared. Your limbs tangle and twine around each other carelessly. 

 Out of context, you two could have been lovers. 

 You sigh, feeling a bit drowsy from the ‘tussle’. You blink, mind reaching for something. “Wait…. Brucie flirts like his life depends on it too! What’s your excuse?” you grin, jabbing a finger into his chest. Dick scowls at you, clearly flustered again. He stammers, babbling out answers. “Hey, I- I could probably do it...” Dick mutters, finally finding a semblance of coherence. 

  “After that performance?” You challenge, sitting up, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. A sharp laugh spills from your lips. It’s louder than you intended, your entire chest moving along with every exhalation of air. 

 Dick looks at you like a kicked puppy which has you roaring with laughter. “You don’t have to laugh that hard”

 “Admit it, Grayson, you are an actual bonafide dork”

 “I’ll bonafide you,” he growls and you’re bent into the couch cushions, clutching your stomach. Dick looks like your house plant like he’s about to disintegrate. You sit up again and cross your legs. Your lungs expand as you draw in another calming breath before you give him a softer, lopsided smile, placing a hand on his knee and shaking him gently. “Come on, practice on me I’m probably one of the few people you don’t have a stick up your ass around.” Dick, not getting up, puts his hands in his face looking positively mortified by the idea. You make a little affronted noise in the back of your throat and thanks to whatever god is up there that you don’t seem to know how much he doesn’t wanna fuck up flirting with you.   

 “I don’t know how to!” The cry is muffled but the mortification still bleeds through. The admission startles something out of you. “Holy shit, Nightwing can’t flirt his way out of a paper bag. Oh my god, this is great!” you cackle, falling into the cushions. 

 “I’m trying damn it!”

 “Ok. Ok. Ok.” You breathe. You’re still clutching your still aching stomach. You wish you recorded that confession.  “Ok. Phew. Ok, I need a minute,” you say folding over into the cushions again, another bubble of laughter rising in your throat. This is the best ab workout you’ve had in months. 

 “Take your time,” Dick deadpans, rolling his eyes, color rising in his tanned cheeks. 

 “Ooook, I think I’m good. First, we need to work on your wink.”

 “The hell is wrong with my wink?” A wry smile tugs at the corner of your lips. You make vague hand gestures, hoping somehow you could physically pluck the correct words from the air.  “Just try winking, Ric.” Dick raises his brow but gives in. He winks at you in his usual devilishly charming way. You shake your head. “Wink at me like you’re trying to get my number.”

He stiffens and gives you the most artificial wink you’ve seen outside of a bad 50s flick. You drag your hand over your face. “How come you can wink so naturally while fighting and look like you work at in car sales when you flirt”

 Dick tries again. He ends up closing both his eyes and scrunching his nose- looking like a disgruntled puppy. You squeal and Dick’s eyes fly open. Your mouth works to flatten itself but your mind is still picturing the expression. “What?” he growls. You wave him off. “Sorry. Sorry. Just- just try again. Please.” 

 Dick gives you another stiff wink and you’re surprised to find yourself cringing at your best friend for the first time in your life. You drag your hand over your face. “You look like you’re trying to ask me to prom.”

 “You’ve never even been to a prom!”

 “Who do you think scares off Joey’s dates? Pops?” you snort picking up your beer can and taking a sip.  “Did you miss the absentee father part?”

 You both silently agree to move on. 

 “How the flying fuck did you date both Babs and Kory with your atrocious flirting skills?”

 “I have good pick up lines.”

 “Uh, sure, buddy.”

 “It worked on both of them!”

 “Well, hit me.”

 “Call me Fred Flintstone,”  you wait patiently, “cause I’ll make your bedrock.” Another artificial wink. 

 You blink at him, mind still trying to catch up. “Dick you are the epitome of ‘you’re lucky you’re cute’,” you groan, palm flat against your forehead. 

 “I’m not cute! I’m handsome!” Dick protests, mouth twisting into a pout. A shrill squeal is dying in the back of your throat as you draw a breath. You pinch his cheeks, “you pouting just furthers my point.”

 “Are you just trying to destroy my confidence?” Dick whines, lightly shoving you away. 

 “Oh no, the girl back at the club did that. I am just dancing on your grave.”

 “Give me another wink.”

 Dick fails at winking, again. You cringe openly at him and he scowls at you halfheartedly, more defeated than angry. Dick’s used to being good at things, you supposed. You tap your finger against your chin, trying to unspool a thought and rethread it into words. “Ok, figured out one of your problems.”

“Aside from my terminal dorkiness?”

 “You’re too nervous-”

 “You would be too,” Dick cuts in. 

You snicker, teeth bared in a mocking grin. ”Did you miss the part where I got her number?” Dick refuses to answer. You sigh but you can’t keep the smile off your face. “Let’s start with body language because for a guy with so much muscle control you are shit at this.”

 “You’re just gonna keep being mean,” he moans. 

 “I’ll stop being mean when you sweep me off my feet,” you jab. 

 “Ok, fine, maestro. What do you need me to do?”

  “You’ve got to lean into me and smile coyly,” you say vaguely.  Dick leans in close, your noses touching, his lips ghosting over yours. You can feel his breath hot against your lips. It sends bolts of electricity careening through your nerves. Your brain takes its sweet time catching up, giving your body ample time to soak up the proximity of the almost kiss. You gasp then reign yourself in. “Dickle, that’s- that’s a teensy bit too close,” you laugh awkwardly, hands playfully shoving at his chest. 

 Dick shakes out of his haze. “You said to lean in!” he says leaning into your space again. “Yeah, I did but I never said lean in close enough to eat my face. I can smell the gin in your breath,” you snort airly, pushing at his chest again. 

 Dick sits back, embarrassment creeping into his features. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth as if he’s thinking carefully about his next few words. “I’m just-” Dick puts his head in his hands. “Like you said, I’m too nervous.” 

 You raise a brow. The sound that comes out of you is too sharp and disbelieving to be a laugh. “Pfffft, it’s just me, you dork.”

 That’s the problem, Dick thinks. It’s you. The exasperation bleeds into his features. Dick fidgets, shifting and shaking in his seat like a wet chihuahua. Don’t you know how much he wants to get this right for you?. 

 “Stop twitching! You look like you’re having a seizure.”

 “I’m nervous!!” he says. “Don’t you ever get nervous about a person you like?”

 You side eye him. “I do,” you admit, rubbing your thumb over your tattoo out of habit. Dick’s eyes widen, then narrow. You see the word ‘who’ forming on his lips but his train of thought is cut off by the sound of Yasiri’s tail rattling against your skin as she emerges. Your poor danger noodle is likely frustrated with the lack of progress. You quietly thank her by scratching her chin.  “Whatever made this world just decided that you had to have at least one very obvious flaw,” you say, insincerely patting him on the back.

 “You're enjoying this.”

 “Way more than you think,” you say grinning at him. Dick simply grimaces at you. “You’re not helping me.”

 “Were you really expecting me to help?” You shrug. “Why would I do that?”

 “I’d help you!”

 You level him with a flat look. “No, you wouldn’t. You’d laugh just as hard as I did.” Dick opens his mouth then closes it. He opens it again. You raise your brow at him. “ I- ok yeah. No, I would laugh harder,” he says, giving you a cheeky, lopsided smile. Vindication and something warmer tug your features into a smile.

 “Just… relax and be yourself,” you mock sagely. Dick rests his head on yours. “ I hate you,” he groans, pressing his shoulder into yours. 

  “You’re just thinking about it too much,” you say, pressing back, “just do what’s natural. The more you over try the funnier it is.”

 “Goes back to my problem of being nervous,” he huffs into your hair. You boop his nose. “Goes back to my point about you overthinking things.”

 “I’m not!”

 “Fine.”

 “Fine?”

 “Fine,” you say, reaching back and presenting your danger noodle in your palm, "practice on Yazzy.”

 “You’re not serious?”

 You hold up the clearly unamused snake eye level with Dick. “Go on." Dick gives you a withering look. He exasperates, then looks deep into Yasiri’s black eyes. He opens his mouth and Yasiri flicks her tongue at him. The next few things happen in quick succession. Dick’s body relaxes. His face breaks into a smile that makes your heart flutter. He lets out a bubble of laughter that has you jumping and reaching for your own breath. "I can't!" he gasps. You both dissolve into laughter. 

 “Suit yourself - but prepare to have blue balls," you grin, punching his shoulder, "at least, they'll match your new suit!" you cackle. Dick flushes red.“I - I - you are legally the worst and most unhelpful human being in modern history!”

 Your cackle rises higher even as Dick shoves a pillow in your face. You push it away and wipe the tears away from your eyes. “Just practice on me, go on,” you say, reaching out, “once more." He frowns at you. "Please?”

 Dick closes his eyes. His movements become leisurely the way you've seen him when he's about to do a routine on the trapeze. “Do you have a map?” he says, pushing a strand of hair out of your eyes. The oxygen in your lungs evaporates. Heat spreads from the line of skin Dick’s finger grazed to the rest of your body. You swallow trying not to collapse under the weight of his gaze. You realize he's expecting an answer. "No, why?” you stammer out stupidly. 

  “Because I keep getting lost in your eyes,” he says, eyes glittering in the dim lights of your apartment. Some part of your brain short circuits, fizzing out in sparks and fire, then the rest of your brain follows. The entire structure goes out in a puff of smoke. You're completely frozen. Dick watches you with a furrowed brow, bottom lip caught between your teeth. Apprehension rolls off of him in waves and you can feel your lungs work again. "Exactly! Exactly that!" You squeal in delight. Dick smiles relieved. "I knew you could do it, you magnificent dork. I could kiss you right now!" you say squishing his cheeks and pressing your forehead against his. Dick’s breath catches. There's a hopeful look in his eyes. "Would you?" 

 Something clogs your throat as you pull away. You're pretty sure it's your heart. You force the nervous laughter in your throat into something else. "Need practice with that too, Dickens?" 

 "Dunno," he hedges, eyes holding yours, "you tell me." His hand cups the side of your face. You ease into his touch like a marshmallow dissolving into hot cocoa. "Can I?" he whispers, thumb brushing against your bottom lip. He's being careful with you you realize. Your eyes flutter closed. You can feel your nerves disentangling. They cross and recross so that you're fully aware of your lips. The gap between the two of you is small but it feels so impossibly big. Anticipation, anxiety, and excitement all thicken the spaces between you. You want him. You want this. Is it so wrong? 

 "Yes."

Tag list:  @batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish,@birdy-bat-writes,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

[weclassygirl]

𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭

Word count: +1.9k

Pairing: neil x reader (tenet)

Summary: reader gets recruited by neil

Author’s note: hi! i’m actually thinking of making this into a very small series, 3-5 chapters max. let me know if i should write it. as always, not a native english speaker so there may be some mistakes. take care everyone

Gif credits (x)

“(Name)!” you hear your professor call you as you walk down the stairs from another long lecture. “I’d like you to meet Neil.” 

You reach out your hand and shake his. “Nice to meet you.” you say.

“If you have a few moments, Neil has a job offer he would like to discuss with you.” you hear your professor say. You turn to Neil.

“A work placement?” you ask, a bit stunned. You didn’t expect any job offers anytime soon… or rather at all.

“Something like that.” he tells you. 

Both of you move to the upper levels of the university. You’re out on the roof, you can see the whole city from it. Oslo is a beautiful place this time of year. 

“I want to ask you some questions first, consider it as some form of a test.” he speaks up. You look in his direction, the bits of sun falling in your eyes. 

“Alright." 

"How would you define time?”

“It’s a progression of events from the past into the present and then into the future.” you respond right away and see Neil nodding along. 

“And how would you describe a place in time where a vital moment has changed, for better or worse?” he questions further. 

“Time travel, I guess.” you answer, that’s the only thing that comes to your mind at the moment. 

“And if the person goes back in that time, changes events, moves forward but everything around him moves backwards, would you still call it time travel?" 

You don’t answer. You feel like this is a trick question, that the answer you want to say will be wrong. 

"How would you call it then?” you question instead.

“Time inversion.” he simply says. You draw your eyebrows thinking of the way to define it. You never thought of time inversion, you considered it at one point but never in depth. Before you can ask another question he responds. 

“Try and elaborate on that." 

"Elaborate?” you wonder, not fully understanding. 

“Think of the way the world would look like in reverse, how people would act, how everything around them would move.” he tells you. You think for a moment before answering. 

“Well, obviously everything would be going backwards. People going on the streets, cars, birds, planes.” you look at Neil and he urges you to continue. “I guess the actions would be also in reverse, like tossing something on the table. It would look as if we caught it with some invisible force, like it would fly to our hands." 

"What about the person itself?” he questions. 

“I think the breathing system would also be in reverse. In normal, forward time we exhale it so we produce carbon dioxide.” you look at the city and Neil watches you briefly before his sight moves to the view too. “In the reverse time out lungs wouldn’t be able to contain the reversed oxygen, I assume." 

Neil looks at you and smiles faintly. He moves to the door, to exit the rooftop. He looks at you over his shoulder. "You coming?” he disappears behind the door.

“Wait! Did I pass?” you yell after him and follow his steps.                                                             

Both of you drive to a location pointed out by Neil. When you arrive you see it’s an abandoned building. Neil opens the door and you’re met with a red room with a big glass window. The room on the other side is blue. You look at Neil and he tells you to go in. As you walk into it you see a big machine next to the window. You wonder what it does. 

“What are we doing here?” you question. 

“You passed.” he quickly informs you. “And your first day at work starts now." 

"Now? What about my university?” you wonder. You’re happy that you’ve got the job, even without really knowing what it’s about but you can’t miss any classes. You still want to get your degree. 

“It’s already sorted out. You’re at the top of the best students there so it wasn’t a problem." 

"Then what? This is my new work place?” you ask with a small smile on your face. Neil smirks and you hear the doors opening and a few people entering, wearing military vests. 

“That’s the new one?” the bearded man asks Neil and he nods. You look at him a bit confused, he sees this and quickly goes to explain. 

“I talked to you about inversion, but it seems as if you already know how it could work. That job offer includes that inversion." 

"Wait, you mean that it’s real? That it can happen?” you wonder and look confused at Neil. The bearded man comes up to the both of you. 

“It happens right now actually.” he points his chin to the window. You turn to look at it and stare at what’s on the other side. Or rather who. You see yourself talking with Neil and occasionally looking back at your own figure. You lift your hand up but see that the other you is not a reflection. 

“How?” you simply ask. 

“This is the inversion. That machine” he points to the construction next to the window. “can take us to the past, everything that happens on that side is in reverse. Here, we’re going forward." 

All of you move to the machine but you stay behind still staring at your other self through the window. Neil comes up to you and places his hand on your shoulder. 

”(Name).“ he speaks softly and you look at him for a brief moment. He sees your unease. "You’ll be alright, you don’t have to worry." 

"Why me?” you ask, your mind filled with questions but for now that one only matters. 

Neil sighs, he expected that question. “Your professor told me about you when I asked him if he could recommend to me someone for this mission." 

"That’s it?”

“There’s much more but for now we need to go.” he moves to the machine and before you enter you hesitate. 

“How will I know it will work?" 

"You need to look at the proving window and see yourself coming into the machine. If you see your reversed self there, you can enter.” you hear Ives say. You look through the window and see yourself going back into it, looking at the window too. 

All of you enter the machine and you feel it turn as the red light is now replaced with the blue light of the other room. You exit the machine and look at yourself in the window. You watch how everything goes in reverse on the other side. Neil looks at you and sees you looking at the reflection, you turn to him.

“What now?” 

“Now we need to show you how everything works.” he tells you, you see the others already setting up to exit the building. Putting on masks and going behind the door. Neil guides you to the room and gives you a mask. 

“Our lungs don’t transmit the air like out there, so we need to have our own pair of oxygen.” he tells you as he puts on the mask, you follow his steps. “You might feel weird at first. When you step out there, let your body adjust, your blood flow will go reversed, you will feel different, but it’s just a matter of practice.”

“Practice.” you whisper under your breath.

“Don’t try to understand it. Feel it.”

 Both of you step through the door as they close behind you, the ones in front of you open. You step outside and already feel the effects Neil was talking about. You look at the puddle on the ground and see ripples, you step on it and the water raises up for a moment at the contact. You look towards Neil as he watches you. He only nods and goes to the car, he sits in the passenger seat. 

You look at him confused and go to the driver’s window. “You’re not driving?” you ask.

“Consider it as another test. Try driving here, it doesn’t seem as hard as it might.” he only informs you. You sit in the driver’s seat and start the car. He was right, it doesn’t seem that hard and yet you feel that it doesn’t go just as right as in the normal world. 

You drive through the small highway as Neil explains you a bit more of how everything works, he tells you about “tenet”, a word that can get you in anywhere, with and without problems. As you drive you see a car going in your direction and both of you don’t have much time to react at the next events. 

The car rams into you, throwing you off the road as your car lands on its roof. You feel your head bash into the wheel. You lose your consciousness for a moment before you wake up with a grunt. You’re still in your seat and try to unbuckle from it but to no avail. You see Neil out of the car, shooting at the man in a mask, you notice a spill of oil going from your window. You try to get out but still nothing. You try to find some sharp objects to cut through the buckle and see from the corner of your eye the man lighting up the oil trail.

The fire quickly spreads to the car and you hear Neil screaming your name as the car makes an explosion. You close your eyes at it and before you lose consciousness you see the windows freeze up.                                                            

You wake up with a gasp and feel hands on your shoulder as you try to raise up. Neil watches you carefully as you try to take in the place you’re in. “Where are we?”

“A ship container on it’s way to Oslo.” he says and gives you some water. You drink from the bottle before asking him another question. 

“Who was he?” 

Neil looks at you, not sure if he should tell you. You already try to connect some dots but some of them are still missing. He sighs and answers you.

“We don’t know.” he admits. “We’ve been seeing him a few times before but he never engaged. He did now.” He doesn’t know what to say more, the masked man was always just watching, never getting close to Neil, Ives and his team. He already told what happened at the highway to Ives and that left him surprised too.  

“Then why are we going to Oslo?”

“We have a hideout there. We’ll stay for a couple of days and then move.” he responds. 

“Do you know why he attacked? Me, of all people at that?” your questions don’t seem to end. You still need to ask him why he chose you for this operation and what exactly this operation is. 

“We think that you may have an impact on this world. Me choosing you for it was not a coincidence, now we know that your appearance here is valuable.” he acknowledges, you listen carefully to every word he’s saying. “Valuable to the point that some people may even want you dead.” 

You take in all the information and try to process it. You stand up and start to pace in the container, starting to breathe heavily. Neil notices you panicking and comes up to you. He puts his hands on your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s alright. I know it’s a lot to take in but we’ll protect you.” he pulls you into a hug and you freeze for a moment before wrapping your arms around him. He puts his head on top of yours as you lean into his chest. You hear him faintly whisper, a whisper so quiet that you almost don’t catch it. 

“I’ll protect you.” 

[jpegjade]

Smile for the Camera - Spencer

it’s 2 days late but i havE A NEW FIC! i don’t really know what else to say this time so yeah here you go!

gender: not mentioned/neutral

type: fluff

warnings: none

______

You hoped you weren’t going to be late. There was an accident on the highway when you were on your way over to Rossi’s house and you kept praying to whatever was out there for you to make it on time. 

Pulling up to the driveway, you saw lights on in the house but the blinds were closed. so you couldn't tell if anything was happening. You heaved a big sigh and grabbed your camera bag. 

“Here we go.” You said to yourself. 

It was always a big production to go to weddings, no matter how small they are. Weddings were draining in the best ways. You loved seeing people in love but it was hard with how little was going in your life sometimes. 

You got a text from Will that read, ’Just walk straight to the backyard when you get here. That’s where we will do the ceremony.’ 

You quietly walked to the back gate and gasped. The decorations were simple but beautiful. String lights, candles, lightly decorated chairs. You felt the urge to cry coming on but you held back. You had a job to do while everyone was gone at the end of the night, then you could cry out of happiness. 

Click. One picture down. Click click. More photos loaded as you got shots in. This was the most calming moment, when there was no one around and you got to be by yourself and get your jitters out. The sound of the camera shutter was so loud in your head but so quiet when you worked. 

“Well look who it is!” A southern New Orleans accent drawled from behind you as you wrapped up shooting. 

“Wil!” You turned, opening your arms to hug your best friend’s fiance. 

You and Will had always been reasonably close because of your bonds with JJ. You didn’t meet the people in her life often but you heard stories and when Will officially came into the picture, you were in love with his chemistry with JJ. You knew this day would happen, especially after Henry, it was only a matter of time.

“Are you ready, big guy?” You asked, taking in his dapper appearance. 

He looked so nice that you knew JJ was going to cry when she saw him. Hell, you were going to cry when you see her and you get to see her before everyone else. Let’s face it… You were just going to cry over everything. Everything was cry-worthy because you knew it was all done in love. Everything here was about love.

“No. I mean yes, I get to call her my wife but I have been practicing my vows for an hour and I still don’t know what to say.” Will chucked as you smiled with him. 

“I think you’ve got it.” You comforted him. 

You were about to say something when someone yelled about JJ pulling up in the driveway. This was Will’s cue to greet JJ at the door with Henry. They arrived in separate cars so Will could get the surprise together but the ruse was that Will was picking up a specific wine as a gift to Rossi since it was his party and you always bring the party host wine. It was a ruse because in reality, Will got to Rossi’s place early to make sure that everything was up and running as smoothly as possible. 

Suddenly, a group of people came walking out of the backdoor. You started taking photos of them coming out as if they were the bridal party, the bridesmaids and groomsmen who stand on the altar with the couple, but you knew they were the guests. 

The first guy out of the door winked at you, causing you to feel your face get hot. Whenever people gave themselves attention through the camera, you felt like it was attention towards you because you were the person behind the camera. You often had to remind yourself that it’s all for the camera, not you. 

“Hey, y/n!” Emily called as she grew closer to you. She was right behind the guy so you didn’t see her until she was standing right in front of you.

“You look really nice.” You said, taking a picture of Emily. She looked slightly bashful at the sight of the camera on her but she went with it anyway. 

You met Emily before at a dinner party that JJ invited you to. Emily, JJ, and Penelope sat around JJ’s kitchen table drinking wine and JJ invited you over because she knew you could use the break to chit chat and be with people without being under pressure to mingle and make business connections like at weddings. You always thought she was a bit brash but you also appreciated how straight-forward Emily always was. 

“Thank you. Are you going to photograph the wedding?” Emily asked as you walked to the middle of the aisle together. Emily was on her way to talk to someone else in the yard and you were waiting for JJ, Will and Henry to come out the back door. 

“Yeah. Will asked me to do it. “ You smiled. 

“I know you’ll do great. You always do.” Emily was genuinely complimenting you and it was your turn to be bashful. 

Being a friend of JJ, she always had you take their family photos so she could post them to Facebook and frame them. Emily obviously saw your photos, along with JJ’s many friends and family, so she kept up with you. 

Emily walked to her seat while you noticed Rossi and JJ’s mother walking to the back door. You followed at a distance, your longest distance lens ready to capture JJ’s face. All you could see was mouths moving but you kept the camera going until it hit her. click click click clickˆ. There was the recognition on JJ’s face about what was happening. 

“Y/n!” JJ noticed you behind Rossi, who you knew as the rich older guy whose house hosted many dinner nights that you were often invited to but you were too busy with weddings and other events on the weekends to go. It was nice to actually attend for once. 

“JJ!” You said, a big smile spreading on your face. 

You can JJ hugged before her mom ushered the two of you off to a room. 

“You knew?” JJ asked as you got pictures of her and her mom getting her dressed in that gorgeous gown. 

It fit her so nicely that it was almost like it was made for JJ… Little did she know that you had a hand in making sure it was fitted to her perfectly leading up to the wedding. It was a challenge but you were able to figure out her measurements through compiling a series of images, some of her clothes, and a special 3D rendering program that Penelope helped program. It sounds easy but it was incredibly difficult to put together in a short amount of time to ensure that the dress was going to be a perfect fit.

“Kinda. It was a last minute thing, which gave me no time to spoil it.” You weren’t the best at secrets but you were by far better than Penelope. You learned that pretty soon after you met her for the first time. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t want to be here without you.” JJ said, her mom zipping her up finally. 

You gave the two of them time alone while you went and looked for a good place to set up. You could feel the tears coming on as you closed the door to the bedroom but you took a deep breath. It was a happy day and you were just feeling overwhelmed. Weddings could be stressful and a lot to handle a lot of the time but they made you happy at the end of the day. 

As you stood in the front row, waiting for JJ to walk down the aisle, you noticed a boy out of the corner of your eye, just talking to Emily. He glanced over at you for a moment, fixing his hair, before focusing on Emily again. You wondered if he worked with JJ… 

The ceremony came and went. From JJ’s gorgeous dress under the stars to Henry and WIll looking nice and the photos of the first kiss, you couldn’t stop crying between shots. It was hard to see but thank the lord for autofocus because you wouldn’t be able to nail the manual focus through your tears. You had never seen her so happy, other than when you saw her in the hospital holding Henry for the first time, so this was an amazing occasion. You missed being a guest for a special moment like this but you would be sobbing if you weren’t doing a job. 

As JJ, Will and Henry walked inside for a little bit for a private moment after the ceremony, you were left outside by yourself as everyone started to mingle. Out of sheer anxiety, you flipped through your preview screen with all of your shots on your camera. With JJ inside, Penelope at the snack table, and Emily dancing with a tall, commanding man with dark hair, you were left not knowing anyone. 

You decided to go sit down at a table and take a break when you heard Henry’s laugh. Looking up, you noticed the cute guy doing magic tricks with Henry over by the table. You couldn’t help but stare at the two of them, a pang in your heart. 

With all of your friends getting married or engaged, you found yourself getting lonlier. They were all pairing off and getting on with their lives while you were committed to your job. That was perfectly fine but your photos couldn’t talk back to you when you were alone at night, needing an emotional connection. 

Click. Click. Click. You took more shots of Henry smiling from afar, pausing to look at the previews, before you went inside to get something to drink. If anyone needed a shot right now, it was you.

Two shots in, you heard a door closing behind you. 

“You should say hi to him.” JJ said, smiling. 

Instinctively, she was playing with her wedding ring. It was a foreign object on her hand so of course she would play with it between her fingers. 

“I should not do that. I’m here to work.” You smiled back. 

The smile was a little bit forced because you had this conversation with JJ before. You see a cute person and JJ encourages you to go for it. You shoot her down and tell her all the reasons it wouldn’t work out. The two of you laugh about it and move on. 

“Spence is a nice guy.” JJ chuckled, looking out to the backyard. 

“His name is Spence?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Spencer Reid is his name.” JJ corrected. “But I’ve always called him Spence when no one would give him a nickname when he first got to the BAU.” 

“Oh, that’s cute.” You said, distractedly. 

Looking over at Spencer, he was still playing with Henry. Another magic trick that piqued your interest as you tried to see how he did it. He was just too smooth because you couldn’t see the switcheroo moment. 

“Go, talk to him! Take a break for a little bit. You’ve been working this entire time and I know the shots aren’t going to cure the lonely feeling.” JJ said, a soft smile on her face. 

You thought about it for a second, slowly feeling the effects of the shots flowing to your head. It wasn’t enough to knock you off balance but enough to loosen you up a little bit. 

“I just might.” You said, your resolve hitting you. 

JJ smiled at you as you went outside to where Spencer sat. One. Two. One. Two. You counted your steps, looking down at your feet as you felt the nerves threatening to come back up. Where was the confidence you felt a minute ago? You could do this. 

Just when you were about to open your mouth, Henry spotted you and came running up to hold your leg. 

“Y/N!” He yelled, looking up at you. 

In the second you paused to gain your balance and look down at Henry, you looked back up to see Spencer talking to the guy that winked at your camera in the beginning of the wedding. They seemed to be talking about something serious so you gave up and decided to dance with Henry. 

“Hey buddy, will you dance with me?” You asked Henry, who was still clinging to your leg. You took your camera from it’s resting place on your chest and placed it in your shoulder bag. 

Henry nodded his head and the two of you went out to the dance floor, him holding onto your hands and swaying off tempo. You were looking at Henry, who occasionally let go of your hand to push the hair out of his face, and sneaking glances at Spencer, who was starting to look deflated in his conversation. You wondered what he was talking about that made him deflate at a wedding. 

“Mind if I cut in?” Will’s voice shook you out of your wandering thoughts about Spencer. 

“Of course. I’m sure you guys should have a family dance.” You said, stepping away. 

“I wanted to dance with you, not him.” Will chuckled.

Henry ran over to his mom, who was at the snack table with Spencer, while you and will had a dance. You didn’t even notice Spencer get up and move. 

“This is beautiful.” You said, looking around. You noticed the air get a little chilly but you were still moving so it didn’t bother you. 

“It really came together in time.” Will chuckled, knowing how much of a hassle it was to pull everything together. 

“No thanks to you, of course.” You smiled. 

Over Will’s shoulder, you could see JJ and Spencer still talking. They looked so light and fun. You wondered what they were talking about. You couldn’t see JJ’s face but Spencer was looking up at the stars until he wasn’t. Suddenly, he was making eye contact with you. 

You felt your face grow hot as you looked away, Will’s voice calling you back from your thoughts. 

“You should go talk to him. You’ll enjoy his… Quirks.” Will chuckled, continuing to sway with you. 

“Quirks, huh? He’s that bad? Maybe I shouldn’t go for it…” You said, thinking about how your previous experiences with guys with quirks landed you more single than an amoeba. 

“I think you would like him. He knows a lot about… Well everything.” He said as the song came to an end. 

“Well, I’ll see. I want to get more shots of you, JJ and Henry dancing together.” You said, grabbing your camera out of your shoulder bag and taking a few steps back to capture Will smiling. 

Click. Click. 

You checked the images and were satisfied enough to move on… Almost. 

“Can I borrow that?” Will asked, pointing to your camera. 

“For what?” You asked, genuinely curious what he could use it for at his own wedding when he literally paid you to take care of photos. 

“I want to show JJ how I see her, with the help of your camera.” Will said, dreamily as the two of you stared at JJ and Henry dancing together. 

“Okay… I don’t know what I’ll do now, though.” You nervously chuckled. 

It was a little bit deflating to give up your camera. You really wanted a reason to talk to Spencer and you typically used taking pictures of someone as an excuse to actually talk to them. Without your camera, how are you supposed to do that?

“Here, I’ll be your wingman.” Will nudged you before you could realize that Spencer was walking toward the two of you. 

Before you had time to react, Will put the camera up to his face and started taking pictures.

“This is harder than I expected…” Will muttered, watching you smile. 

“What’s hard?” Spencer asked, standing arms length away from you. 

The three of you stood in a triangle, staring at each other for a moment. You felt naked and defenseless against the situation without your camera. Will was trying to understand it before he went over to JJ. 

“You know, the first photo of a person was an accident. So by taking pictures of me, you’re doing more than the first technical portrait photographer was doing, in terms of effort and intention. The art of photography really is a numbers game, if you think about it. Along the x and y-axis, you’re attempting to capture a moment of time on a plane of existence that is completely irrelevant to the numbers related to the…” 

“Spence.” JJ said, seemingly coming out of nowhere. She smiled and shook her head as if the two of them went through that routine normally. 

“Related to the plane of imagery.” You mumbled, knowing you heard that from somewhere but not sure where. 

Will, JJ, and Spencer all heard you finish Spencer’s sentence, although it was natural. 

“You listened to my ted talk.” Spencer said, smiling. 

“That was you?” You asked, meeting Spencer’s eyes. They looked so pretty up close, when the light hit them a certain way. 

“Yes! It was supposed to be a regular lecture but they were trying a new format and wanted to know if I would be willing to do it that way. I didn’t mind but it was hard to…” Spencer trailed off when he looked over at JJ. 

“Will, I think we should let them work out the logistics of...cameras… While you and I hang out with Henry. The night seems to be winding down. I think there’s one song left before Rossi kicks us out.” JJ chuckled. 

Spencer shifted on his feet as JJ, Will, and your camera went to the dance floor, where Henry was talking to Emily. 

“Your name is Spencer, right?” You asked, rocking on the heels of your shoes. 

“Dr. Spencer Reid.” He said, looking at you with a small smile.

“Oh. You’re a doctor…” You said, trying to figure out how old he was. 

“I’m not that old, no. I was accelerated in my learning as a child so I finished everything earlier than expected.” He said, seemingly reading into what you were thinking. 

There was an awkward silence that fell between the two of you. You wanted to fill it so badly but you didn’t want to actually think about what to fill it with. You spent yet another night pining over a boy who wasn’t going to have any interest in you, just like every other wedding you go to. 

“So… How about those stars…” You chuckled. 

“Do you think… Maybe... Would you be interested in dancing with me?” Spencer was stumbling over his words as the last song of the night came on through the speakers. One of your favorite songs…

“Finally.” You breathed out before realizing what you said. “I mean yes, I would love to dance with you.” 

Leading you out to the empty makeshift dance floor, the music played softly in the background as Spencer slipped his hand around your waist. 

“Garcia said you would be someone nice to know.” Spencer said, swaying with you. 

“I beg to differ but I guess I shouldn’t say those things to cute boys.” 

It was different from dancing with Will. Dancing with Will was wasting time, just doing something to do it. Dancing with Spencer had a little purpose. The last song of the night wasn’t even slow but you and Spencer were the last ones on the dancefloor, just swaying in tune with one another. It was relaxing, if not excessively calming. 

“You think I’m cute?” Spencer asked, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“You don’t?” You followed up, genuinely confused at how he didn’t see it. 

“Well the term ‘cute’ cannot be scientifically described although the golden ratio is believed to…” Spencer squinted at something past your head, causing you to turn around. 

Behind the glassdoor of the house was the BAU, watching you and Spencer dance. As soon as they realized you were turning around, they all pretended to be talking to one another. It was a pretty bad attempt. 

“Do they always watch you do stuff like this?” You turned back to Spencer and he solemnly nodded. 

“That’s weird.” You said, glancing over your shoulder again. 

Half of the team was giving Spencer a thumbs up, including JJ. 

“What if we got out of here?” Spencer said, looking down at you. 

“Hmm?” You asked, looking at his eyes. You noticed they were warm and inviting, soft even. 

“You and I could get out of here. Get coffee, maybe?” He smiled slightly. It looked a little forced but that could be because he was nervous. 

“RIght now?” You asked, lifting your arm as he slowly spun you around. 

“RIght now. If that’s okay with you. If not, that’s fine. I get it. It’s like…” Spencer was still going when you cut him off. 

“Let’s get out of here.” You said, “I don’t want the night to end with a last dance like this.”

[woonietune]

Calling your attention to fandom contributions by my fandom wife thememoryofthatday. She's been regularly posting episode summaries of Warrior Baek Dong-soo every Sunday on Archive of Our Own. Not your ordinary summaries--they are full of wit and charm and historical links and behind the scenes info; they call out all plot holes like Swiss cheese in the script and poke fun at characters while maintaining a total adoration for (most of) them and the glory that is the Dong-soo/Woon ship (and others). Memory is a history nerd and will zero in on sageuk crazy errors, but she’s also caught some storyline inconsistencies I’d never noticed in all my years of fangirling and ficcing for this drama (Hong-do can teleport! Dong-soo rides a horse that flies through time and space!) The comment section is full of rambly, fun meta (and alternate Gwang-taek thirsting/bashing, relentless jokes about Chun’s alcoholism, the size of Dong-soo’s dong, and a decidedly WHY CAN’T THE GIRLS FIGHT MORE pissiness). 

Each ep summary includes 1) a 60 sec recap 2) a long-ass recap 3) beautiful screencaps and gifs 4) funny captions 5) tally of body count, awards for dumbest moment, most romantic moment, etc... 6) Clips from the official SBS YouTube channel. QUITE THE GIFT TO FANDOM. Since I kinda hate the show (really), I’m using this episode guide instead of the show as my major source material for fics in the future, so I don’t have to fast forward through so many scenes that are yuck, boring, or downright triggery for me (ohhhhhhh, wait until you see what Memory has planned for that trainwreck of ep 29 and... um... an all new interactive ep 30!)

Recently, Memory covered covered the famous jailhouse scene in EPISODE NINETEEN HERE. Go look.

Also, Memory is at work on a longfic that I’ve been telling everyone will be the best the fandom’s seen. Just you wait. It’s characterization of Woon is so razor-sharp, true to canon, wonderfully imaginative yet fair to the “what if” of a very believable canon divergence.

In the meantime, enjoy the latest in her Under the Sun series. From the viewpoint of Gak the royal guard, this is just a wonderful short piece that makes sense and saves Woon (YES, LET’S SAVE WOON--I Iove stories that save Woon) in a way that honors canon. I beta-ed this fic, but I still haven’t put my mind together as to what to say about it in the comment section because it’s just such a beautiful piece I have to measure my words. At the very least it’s tiny scene with Yi San has inspired my next fic (and yet again postponed another chapter to my WIP).

Sunrise

thememoryofthatday

Summary:

(Sequel to Second Favorite.)

Baek Dong-soo wasn’t the only one with Yeo Woon in the wheat field... nor is he the only person on Woon’s side. A companion piece to After Sunset with a much happier ending.

Notes:

For Tepid_T.

If Warrior Baek Dong-soo is new to you, you may want to start by reading my guide for fandom-blind readers.

Many months ago, I wrote a story that I still hate called After Sunset. It’s a short piece about the aftermath of Woon’s canon death, as told from Gak’s POV. Ever since I posted that story, I have been promising to rewrite it with a happier ending - which obviously means Woon has to live.

So this is the rewrite I’ve been promising for the better part of a year. I’m sorry it took so long.

This story falls into the Under the Sun series and overlaps with the events at the end of my first WBDS story, Shadows of What Would Have Been. If you haven’t read that story, this one should still make sense, but that longer story provides more details about why Woon survived, as well as some of the conversations that you don’t get to see here. Because this is an alternate version of After Sunset, some of the dialogue and events are the same as in that story. Self-plagiarism is fine, right?

Thank you to my lovely beta shalomdebbie for fixing all of my errors and convincing me not to delete most of the things I write.

Finally, this story is dedicated to Tepid_T, whose first experience of this fandom was that cursed canon-compliant story I mentioned above, and who loves Sang Gak so much that she wrote him a fabulous porn story that everyone needs to read: The Threat to Hanyang.

Tepid, you are a marvelous writer and an even more marvelous person. I’m so happy we met, and I can’t wait to see what you do next.