#the single time. only time ever since the start. that anyone mentioned my mask to me was just asking me about it out of

[makedamnsvre]

remembered when me and my mom were ???? somewhere going to little shops and my mom stopped at some place to see if there was a bathroom and i waited in the car and then some old white guy with a bright red hat glared at me through the windshield (i was still wearing my mask but it was pulled down under my chin since i was in the car) and after staring at him for too long trying to see what his hat was even though it was obvious i finally saw "trump" on the front lawl.

[yourejinx]

Undeniable Bonds

Azriel x F. Reader

Warnings: angst, as per usual. SPOILERS for other SJM series. Mentions of blood, descriptions of injuries, mentions of death, feelings. Not proof read.

Author’s note: Merry Christmas everyone! It took me MONTHS but is finally here, hope you like it. Sorry for making you wait for so long, life has been nothing short of chaotic. I'd like to thank @crazylokonugget , I read your comment. It was the rush of inspiration I needed to get back into writing 🫶🏻

CHAPTER SIX 

The moon was shining big and bright above the night sky in the city, there was music being played by the river despite the chilling winds of the winter and laughter filled the air around The Rainbow. It all seemed so livid, so peaceful and merry in contrast with the emotional turmoil brewing in your insides. 

You were feeling everything at once, every single thing you had tried to keep concealed for centuries now was ready to combust. You felt confused, and angry, resentful, wary…and underneath it all naively hopeful. It would be a lie to say you had successfully gotten rid of your feelings towards Azriel, if anything all the awful things you've done to each other hurted all the more because of that. He was a friend once, and a good one. Gentle, caring, protective, used to actually enjoy the other's presence, go on walks during the nights when the world felt too heavy, just silently supporting each other. Shared laughs at stupid jokes played at Cass and Rhys, sneaking around while in other courts just for the fun of it, knowing no one would ever find you. You were a team. Until one day you weren’t, he just decided it wasn’t worthy and that was it.  

How were you supposed to open up to this person, when he hadn’t even seen the worst in you and deemed you unworthy? How could you ever trust him again? Yet, here you were, walking side by side next to the Sidra like the old times. You could punch yourself in the face just for considering this, every anxious trait screamed at you to leave, you didn’t owe him a single thing, didn’t have to explain anything. So why did you keep walking alongside him? 

“So…uhm,” He started, nervously scratching at his nape. Trying. He was trying to be open, didn’t hold up that mask of coldness to conceal his emotions, not once. “You and Lucien..?”

“None of your business.” you snapped out of instinct. 

He avoided looking directly at you, focusing on some distant light across the bridge. 

You let out a deep breath, this wasn’t going to work. 

“Just talk to him.” Amren’s voice rang in your head. Try. You had to try, you didn’t have to let him know much just…let the conversation flow, right?

“It was a long time ago, even before Amarantha..” you started, casting a sidelong glance at him.

He turned to you, features soft under the moonlight. Gods, he was unfairly beautiful when he wasn’t an ass. You fixed your sight on the river, if only to keep on track. “Nothing really happened, we were young and drunk at one of Tamlin’s masquerades, we made out and that was it.” 

He nodded slowly and cleared his throat, “And now?”

“Is this what you really want to talk about? He’s my friend, not that I owe you any explanation. Or is this your way to ask if Elain is available now?”

You couldn’t help it, the audacity of this male prying into your private life as if he hadn’t been lusting after Lucien’s mate of all people. Hypocrite doesn’t begin to cut it. 

“I don’t care about Elain, I care about you.” 

You wanted to laugh. “Since when? If I recall correctly you despised me until a week ago, you were either insulting me or just blatantly ignoring me in favor of her, or anyone else really. Then all goes to hell and suddenly I’m worth living for?!” 

He grimaced, “You– you remember that?”

You sighed tiredly and sat down on a bench overlooking the Sidra. “Yes, I remember. I just…I don’t understand you.” 

Azriel just stood there beside you, shifting his weight uncomfortably, not being quite sure what to do.  When he didn’t move or say anything you continued, “I want to believe you,” you swallowed around a lump “but do you hear how it sounds? After all we’ve been through. I trusted you and you threw that in my face, how do you expect me to believe that you care about me?” 

This wasn’t going as he was hoping for, but at least it was something. You were speaking to him more than two sentences, which was a lot more than he deserved to be honest. You could yell at him, curse him, punch him in the face if you wished and he would take it. No complaints. Anything if it meant you’d show him how you truly felt, he wasn’t sure he could endure your silence again, knowing how much he had hurt you. He needed you to let it all out, so he could do something to fix it. 

“I don’t expect you to believe me right away, of course not. I know that I have to earn your forgiveness and one day if I’m one lucky bastard I might earn your trust back once more. But I also know that even when I try to make things right you may not forgive me at all, and I’ll accept that too. Honestly? I just want to know how you feel with all that has happened. The only thing that matters now is you.”

You let out a shaky breath, turning away from him. “I don't know what I'm supposed to feel, everything is a mess.” 

He moved then, crouching in front of you and grasping both your hands on his own, making you look at him. The earnest way he was looking at you, the desperate feeling swimming in his eyes that traveled all the way through the bond. It made you gasp, with all that’s been going on you forgot to put a shield up. Now you could feel him, all of him, which meant  he could feel you. 

“I have no damn right to demand such mercy from you, but if for a single moment you find in your heart a spec of doubt, a small sign of will to forgive this coward for wronging you so unfairly, I just want you to know how sorry I am, for everything. I regret it all, I wish I could take it all back. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, until the day I part from this earth I will fight for you.” 

You were quite sure your bottom lip was trembling as much as his hands were, trying miserably to contain the unwelcomed tears pooling in your eyes. Those were such nice words, the silly part of you that always longed for his recognition wanted so desperately to believe, but there were still too many unresolved things, too many questions still running frantically through your head. And one recurrent thought…

“Did I really have to die for you to notice?”  Your words hung heavy in the air, with a mix of accusation and vulnerability.

Azriel, gaze intense and haunted, looked as if you had just punched a hole through his chest. In that moment, the shadows that bound him seemed to soften, and he confessed the truth that had long eluded you both. It wasn't the brush with death that made him take notice; it was the fear of losing you that shattered the carefully constructed barriers around his heart.

"No, it's not about noticing, it's about realizing what it means to lose you," he admitted, his voice a low, gravelly murmur. Azriel's jaw tightened, a small sign that betrayed the internal struggle within him. "It's not so simple. The thought of a world without your laughter, your presence....Losing you was the worst of my nightmares coming true. I've always cared, but I let my past dictate my actions, and I was cruel to you because I couldn't bear the thought of history repeating itself. But I was wrong, and I almost lost you because of it."

“What do you mean?”

You had unconsciously leaned in closer to him and he swallowed audibly at the intensity in your eyes —obsidian black that sometimes showed swirls of violet and blue. Like lightning striking the midnight sky. They were a rare sight, a beautiful one, he knew that only happened when you felt too much. The telltale sign of the emotions you were so desperately trying to hold back from reaching him.  

“I will tell you everything you want to know, in time. I will lay my heart down for you to step on if you wish. But I believe that is a conversation on its own, I wish to explain everything to you and I don’t think I can do it tonight.” He looked almost pleading. “There’s nothing that can excuse the way I treated you, I’ve been a coward, and an asshole and you have every damn right to be angry with me, to hate me. That much I understand. I just hope you’d be willing to listen when the time’s right.” 

You supposed it was fair. It still made you uneasy and you pulled back a little, ignoring the hurt that flashed through his eyes. Given how strained your relationship was, you guessed it was normal he was still doubtful about sharing too much too soon. You weren’t that willing to particularly share much of yourself yet, if ever. 

Gods, you wished you could rage about everything that has happened, and hated the way his words had soothe an ache in your heart you were making an effort not to acknowledge. 

Time. It would take time to heal, and trust, and effort on both sides to make this work. Whatever this white flag he had weaved tonight meant. You knew it was the right call to make, for the sake of everyone, to try and make amends. That didn’t mean it was going to be easy, some things were too deeply engraved in your heart to let go. 

Did it make you a weak, spineless female to want to give in to him? What was the cost of it? 

“Alright,” you muttered, standing to your feet, Azriel followed you. “If I agree to do this, I’ll need you to be patient. I’m not ready yet to let you in, I still have my doubts about this. I think you understand why. But I want to try to be friends again, that’s as much as I can offer you right now.” 

Friends. That was a lot more than he had dared to ask for, even if in his heart he desired more. It wasn’t about him, nor his desires, it was about you and giving you what you need. So if what you needed from him was friendship, he’ll take it. Make the most of it. 

Azriel nodded, something sparkling to life in his eyes that wasn’t there before. The bond thrummed quietly with emotion. Hope. 

“One step at a time?” you offered, extending your hand to him. 

“One step at a time.” He repeated, taking your hand. 

It was awkward but welcomed, the feeling of something settling within your chest. The mating bond had been neglected for so long that the weight of it felt weird now, as if a missing limb had been spoken into existence. Azriel seemed to notice too, absentmindedly reaching his hand up to rub at his chest. 

You tried not to shudder when he gently tugged at it and opened your mouth to suggest keeping the ends closed for the time being. Unless until you were more comfortable with each other. It was way too intimate and overwhelming otherwise, and that you were not ready for yet. 

“Maybe we should–” you stopped as you felt something warm and thick dripping to your lips. Pressing two fingers to the spot and watching them stained red. Blood. 

Azriel quickly caught up to the movement, body stilling in alert.

“What's wrong?” he asked, stepping closer. 

“I don't know,” A strong pang shot too fast to your head making you gasp and causing you to fall forwards. Azriel’s arms instantly wrapped around your shoulders, holding you to him. His shadows were in a frenzy, surrounding you both while he inspected your face for any signs of injury. 

“Y/N? Talk to me, where does it hurt?” He sounded agitated. 

You could hear Azriel’s voice being muffled and muffled by the second, could feel his warmth and the firm press of his body against yours, but everything was quickly becoming a blurry image. Like some distant dream everything started to fade from sight, the whole scenery changing, twisting and re-adapting. 

Velaris had been replaced for a cold, dark room, the air thick and musty. The sound of crashing waves filling the otherwise silent space. Rusty chains hung wicked and ancient from the stone walls, an iron coffin sitting vacant across from you, open and expectantly waiting for its occupier. You couldn’t move a single muscle, only stare through eyes that were not yours, scent with a foreign nose, the smell of fear, and blood, and immense sadness. 

You blinked twice — or rather this…person whose mind seemed blending with yours did— and gazed down to gauntlet-covered hands. Iron, yet again. There was a slight tremble to this other body, a female’s body, from pain so deep from within her guts and the fire blazing underneath, it rose and rose and rose, flaring until it was pushed down and forced to remain still.

She looked up again, to the lone white wolf lying a few feet away, already watching her. The animal tilted his head to the side as if in contemplation and blinked three times. 

“Are you okay?”

—----------------------------------------------

Sound was the first thing to return to you, hurried, hissing voices coming from somewhere around you. 

“I swear on the Cauldron I'll have their heads on spikes as ornamentations for your throne.”  A low, deep growl laced with intent. You recognized Azriel’s baritone voice from beside you. 

Violet and blue-ish gray greeted you when you finally opened your eyes, immediately recognizing the Town’s House living room.

What in hell had that been? It occurred to you that you had dreamed about her before, the female, recognized the same lemon verbena and crackling embers scent from previous dreams, although never catching a full look at her. Who was she? Was she in danger? Was this a warning? 

Frowning you propped up to your elbows to sit, back resting against the couch’s armrest. Feyre gave you a soft smile, sitting down next to your legs. 

“How are you feeling?” She asked, worry staining her features. 

“I'm fine, just a little dizzy.” You craned your neck back to look at the male standing behind the couch, one of his shadows slipping away to caress your cheek before returning to his master. “What happened?” 

Azriel's honey gaze settled upon you, shoulders sagging a bit from relief at the sight of you awake. “You were unconscious for a few minutes, I flew us back here and called Rhys. I didn't know what to do. Are you sure you're ok?” 

“Yeah, I'm alright. Thank you.” You tried to smile softly but barely managed to slightly lift the corners of your mouth. He nodded, unconvinced. After a moment to cringe, you added, “Whose head are we having on spikes?” 

Silence. 

Rhys cleared his throat. “Your brother’s and Damien’s.” Suddenly the room’s temperature dropped. Feyre shifted uncomfortably in her place. We hadn’t openly discussed the situation yet. “If this is a side effect of whatever they did to you, we need to find the–” 

“It 's not.” you interrupted him. 

It wasn't like you didn't want to find them and finish what had started two centuries ago. But it was your fight, you didn't wish to trouble your family with it. Didn't want Rhys particularly involved out of anyone, he was the reason they came back. Albeit unbeknownst to him. They still lusted after his crown, his throne, they wanted vengeance. Your blood as well as his. 

Azriel stared at you, contemplative. You could sense he wanted to ask more but was debating whether it was pushing a boundary or not. It was all new to the two of you, too fresh to know what was appropriate. 

Fidgeting with your entwined fingers on your lap, you decided to offer some truth. Even if they didn't believe you, even if it sounded crazy. 

“This has happened to me my whole life. It doesn't always knock me unconscious, most of the time it's just dreams.” 

Rhys frowned but it was Azriel who asked, “What sort of dreams are those?” 

“I can't fully explain because most of the time I don't understand them. But it is almost like my mind goes somewhere else, like I share one consciousness with another. A female. Though I haven’t figured that out until tonight. I've seen scraps of her mind, and the places She's been, but I don't know her face.” 

You could practically see the engines in Feyre’s mind working.  She had stayed silent for most of the interaction, paying careful attention to each word. 

“And what happened in this…dream? What did you see?” asked Rhys this time. 

“Not much, she seemed to be in some sort of mausoleum? It was barely lit, few candles here and there. It had to be some isolated place next to the sea, I could hear waves crashing against rock. The air was thick and musty. There was a wolf with her.” 

“Do you think it is possible you're dreaming about someone in the Summer Court?” Azriel caught your attention once more. 

“I don't know, could be. But it feels off. There were chains on the walls…and an iron coffin. But she was alive, I think. Maybe she’s a prisoner?” You turned to Feyre then. “You’ve been there when stealing the Book of Breathings, does this sound familiar? Some place you may have seen?” 

She shook her head. “No it doesn't. That doesn't mean it does not exist, I didn't get to see much of the Summer Court. But why would Tarquin keep an iron coffin?” 

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I don't know, it doesn't make sense. Why would I be dreaming of a female in the Summer Court? How do I relate to that?” 

“What if they're not dreams, per say, but visions? Like Elain's…” she pursed her lips, deep in thought. 

Azriel tensed beside me, I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. I hadn't seen Elain around that much after Solstice night, coming to think of it. Does he think it's my fault? 

“Hadn't thought of it that way. Honestly, I read too much, since I was a kid. I was convinced my mind made it all up until it started to happen during day time. But either way, I don't think this is the case. I mean, nothing that I dreamt of has happened, and if it did, it didn't involve any of us. So we have no way of knowing about it.” 

“It still bugs me. There has to be some explanation to it. It clearly affects you, I don't believe it's normal that these dreams cause you nosebleeds and make you pass out. What if it gets worse?” Rhys pointed out. 

“Beats me. I know as much as you do.” 

“We’ll have to look into it. Whatever this is, and whoever that person may be. Is there something else you remember?” Azriel's brows were pulled together tightly, but his eyes were gentle when he settled them upon me. 

“I just…one time I recall feeling her, here in Velaris. I — she— saw you two.” You pointed to your high lord and lady. Rhys stilled. “But it was like she was falling from the sky, or rather falling through. You were pregnant with little Nyx.” You told Feyre and turned your head to look at Azriel. “I don't remember much about it. I must have passed out, you found me in the hallway shortly after.” 

Azriel gave a tense nod. “I remember you lying face down on the top of the stairs, your books thrown all over the place. Your nose wasn't bleeding though, I thought you were drunk.” he said apologetically.  

I shrugged. “You didn't know, and I couldn't explain either.” 

“If this is a person that's been here without us knowing, then we must start to investigate immediately.” Rhys cut in. 

“But where do we start?” I asked. 

“I'll see if the wards of Velaris had been tampered with, for starters. Maybe we can find some imprint of magic. In the meantime I’d say you learn about bonds and connections, how they work, check your mental shields. If you have access to her mind then there's a possibility she has access to yours, there has to be a link somewhere.” 

“Alright, I'll start to look into it right away. There has to be something in the library about mental connections.” 

“You should rest now.” Azriel placed a hand on my shoulder. “I'll help with the research tomorrow. We can go to the library after training the Valkyries. If that's okay with you.” 

You nodded and relaxed a little. Ignoring the warmth that his touch had spread across your back. 

“Yeah, it's fine. Tomorrow then.” 

—---------------------------------------------------

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[jo-harrington]

Closing Time (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie watches the reader slay a dragon. (Reader works at Claire's in StarCourt and deals with a shitty customer before closing the store.)

Previous Part: Leave of Absence

Warnings/Themes: Semi-established relationship (friendship? Eddie isn’t sure what they are either), fluffy. Reader is not a Hawkins native, but it's kind of just implied. Eddie is a romantic boy and makes everything fantastical in that silly head of his. Also he makes a crude (ish?) joke. Typical teenage boy/young adult stuff. Nothing crazy,

Note: This is my first drabble I'm actually posting. (I haven't written actual fics in a hot minute, only headcanons). I hope it's good, but it really was an opportunity for me to get my frustrations out after work in a store for the first time in 2 years since I moved to corporate. And I kind of liked it so I might write more. (Therapy who?)

(Future Jo here...You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.)

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

___

"Ma'am, I'm sorry that this is confusing, but it's store policy."

"Then I'd like to speak to the store manager."

"I am the store manager," you explained, smile dropping right off your face only to be replaced by a cool mask of indifference.

Eddie stood just outside of the store, leaning against a railing that overlooked the Food Court, and watched you. It was a Sunday, which meant the mall was closed early, and all of the stores were dark except for yours. The gate was halfway down, but he could still see the tenacity--the ferocity--in your eyes as you dealt with an unruly customer and it took everything in him to ignore the little shiver that went up his spine.

When Eddie first gotten a job at Tape World, he had briefly wondered if it was a mistake. He had mostly been given closing shifts to offset gigs at the Hideout on Tuesdays and Hellfire on Fridays. Not to mention school once it was back in session. And seeing how closing shifts meant he was missing out at the opportunity to be dealing at local parties over the summer...well he didn't need to pass algebra to know it was costing him some potentially serious cash.

But the pay at Tape World wasn't awful and it was steady. Wayne seemed to be proud of him for finally having a steady job, despite the assurance that he would always be proud of Eddie. The discount was nice, and his manager let him promote Corroded Coffin shows at the counter.

And then there was you.

At first glance, it didn't make sense to anyone. You with your pastel purple name tag, mega-watt smile, trendy clothes, and stacks of scrunchies. And Eddie with his alleged devil-worshipping, superior taste in music, non-conformity, and hair wild either from too much head banging or the single window AC unit in his trailer. Shit, even he didn't understand it in the beginning; he thought you were everything he said he hated.

But you weren't.

Just like he wasn't everything the entire town said he was either.

Instead he found someone who was just like him, only sort of not at all, with your own flock of lost little bedazzled, pastel and neon sheep that you were protective of. You were a misunderstood soul, a compassionate leader, and one of the most patient people he ever met.

Except for right this minute.

The lights in the mall itself started to dim and the music went silent. Yet, there you still stood in front of one of the local PTA moms as she complained about a return.

She had already been in the store when Eddie arrived to meet you at the end of your shift. (Sunday nights were your...well, Eddie didn't know what to call them. Not date nights; not yet at least.) And you had given him one quick, apologetic glance over her shoulder before you geared up for battle.

But Eddie had been watching as your mood devolved ever since, and you went from understanding, to annoyed, to fuming. And here you were now, looking as though you could singlehandedly manifest a pit to open up beneath Loudmouth Linda to swallow her whole if she carried on with her rant.

And it was kind of hot.

Eddie wouldn't consider himself someone who thought anger was sexy. It was scary. He had seen the way his father would get angry over the most minor things and it stayed with him his entire life. He would freeze, even at the most minor indication that anger was being directed towards him. From his father, from a teacher, from Officer Callahan--although Hopper was usually there to rescue him from that one.

It was different when it came to bullies at school or the townies that spoke in hushed tones when he passed them by. He could stand up to the jocks and the popular kids that pushed him and his friends around. He could ignore the scathing looks from the busybodies at the grocery store. And as much as it hurt to be cast away by almost everyone he met for years, he knew that it wasn't anger--actually he wasn't sure what it was, really--that caused them to do those things.

Just like it wasn't really anger that fueled your fight for the past fifteen minutes. It was purely righteous indignation as you were attacked by this absolute dragon of a woman.

Deep down, he wished he could be your savior, having dealt with the spitting venom of these townies before on numerous occasions. But you were no damsel, and this wasn't your first battle either. You took every insult with grace, every octave of a raised voice was met with an equally raised voice before going back to calm. You verbally jousted, using every trick in your book, and when they didn't work...

"Once again it is against the policy of StarCourt Mall to have customers in the building this late past close and I will have to call Mall Security to come and escort you out regardless of your choice ma'am. So we can either proceed with your return and you get the money back that you paid and not a cent more or I tell my staff and security that you are no longer welcome in this place of business. And security will have to take your picture as they escort you out."

...You simply slayed the beast. With a smile. Although Eddie believed you were actually just baring your teeth in warning.

There was that shiver up his spine again, and were those goosebumps on his arms?

He sort of hoped to be on the receiving end of those teeth sometime soon.

Regardless, your customer was left speechless as you processed her return and called security to escort her to the exit. Eddie smiled smugly as they passed him by.

It didn't take long for the lights of your store to finally shut and for you to duck under the gate before locking it.

He didn't even get a chance to congratulate you on your victory and tell you how absolutely epic you were before you were walking face first into his chest and sighing as your arms went around his waist in a hug.

“Hey,” he chuckled and put his arms around you, one hand instantly rubbing up and down your back.

“Hi.” Your reply was muffled and you squeezed him a bit harder.

"Y'ok there?"

"Yeah," you responded quietly and rubbed your cheek against his t-shirt. “You wanna get DQ?” You looked up at him for a second.

“I could use a blizzard,” he agreed.

“Cool,” you sighed and settled back against him. “People suck.”

“They do.”

The two of you stayed like that in relative silence for a few minutes and as much as Eddie wanted to go on--to tell you that the lady was out of line, that she was entitled, and that he could never handle it as smoothly as you did--he knew that wasn't what you needed right now.

He momentarily wondered that it wasn't all bad, not being your knight, when he could instead be the home you returned to after battle.

And he would happily do it, even if you never asked him to.

"You know," he finally broke the silence. "I've heard people threaten to call security many times. Mostly on the receiving end, sometimes as an innocent bystander."

"Oh yeah?" You finally looked up at him, nose wrinkling with a smile.

"But I think that was the first time it almost gave me a boner," he admitted.

"Eddie!" you pushed away from him and slapped his arms as you laughed, eyes shining with joy. Your worries were not forgotten, he knew, merely smoothed over by, hopefully, your adoration for him. "You fucking perv!"

"I said almost," he defended.

He would be there. Happily.

Next Part: Team Building

[seenoversundown]

Amongst The Stars: Chapter Four

Josh x Quinn (Nonbinary OC)

Warnings: Shitty partner (again), mentions of cannabis, an Accidental date, Pining (a lot of it), Thinking your friends are hot (platonically?), Verbal arguments, Willa knowing too much. 

Word Count: 4.6k Summary: Josh has always loved love,  and he's finally found it. Buuuut, he can't exactly tell anyone. Join him as he navigates the ins and outs of his sweet, secret romance. Author's Note: Have you ever been on an accidental date? I have a friend who has been on three because she just can’t tell when a guy is trying to get to know her better versus when they’re being friendly. She is married. 

Bowl of Oranges - Bright Eyes  “I think I’m cured No, in fact, I’m sure of it Thank you, stranger for your therapeutic smile” 

I sit at the kitchen table, flipping through my notebook of potential lesson plans for the upcoming week. I keep many options available, so it's always hard to choose. Papier-mâché animal masks could be fun, but I'd need to go to Hobby Lobby to get supplies. I nix that idea and move on to the next. We could do a Jackson Pollock unit, but I’d need to check the weather. There is no way I'm letting these gremlins throw paint indoors. I pull out my phone to check the weather app and let out a giant sigh when I see that we’re scheduled for rain every day this week starting tomorrow. As I dive back into my planning book, I'm interrupted by Craig barreling into the room. “Do you plan on actually doing anything around here today?” He practically yells out. It’s been a few weeks since he had his little “come to Jesus” moment, and whatever niceness he had in him seems to be wearing off. He’s been picking fights again over the smallest things. He’s even started making snide comments when I have to make another trip to Hobby Lobby. “Interesting how you always just seem to be out of something for your classroom! I’m not great at math, but it seems improbable that you’d need something every single week.” I slowly blink and look around the room, taking in the clutterless counters and decidedly empty sink, before gazing back at him. 

“What do you mean, Craig?”  “It’s just a mess around here, and you’ve been holed away at the kitchen table all morning.” 

I take one more look around before crossing my arms over my chest. 

“If there's a mess in here, you made it. I cleaned the entire house before I went to bed last night,” I grit out, “though I don't suppose you would have noticed because you were so engrossed in your Xbox.” I watch as he flounders for a moment, mouth opening and closing as his brain attempts to find the words to respond. He’s not used to me talking back to him, so I relish the reaction I've gotten out of him. Before he can find a new way to criticize me, I stand up from my chair and say, “Gonna have to cut this short, babe. I have work to do. For my job.” 

I gather my items from the table and put them back in the canvas messenger bag I use for schoolwork. 

“You’re being so mean.”  “I’m being mean because I’m the only one who does anything around here. I work full time, I am in school full time, I cook, I clean, I wash your dirty fucking underwear, and you come in here and ask if I’m going to do anything around here today?” I glance at his outfit, finally realizing what he’s wearing, and it only adds one more layer to my annoyance. “Oh! Real nice, Craig. You go into my closet,” I tug at the sleeve of the garishly patterned grandpa sweater he has on, “and you take my clothes. Then you waltz in here trying to start a fight?”  “…All my sweaters are dirty.”  “Do you know what functional adults do when their clothes are dirty? They start a load of laundry.”  “You just do it better than I do, babe,” he shoots back with a cocky grin.  I exhale sharply, shaking my head. Oh, to have the audacity of a cis white man, I think.  “Sorry bout your luck. I’m going to Higher Grounds so I can focus on my work.”

Leaving him no time to respond, I sling my bag over my shoulders and make my way to the door. I slide on my worn Blundstone boots and grab my corduroy jacket off the hook. I toss a quick “Bye, text me if you need anything” behind me and head out.  -------------------------------------------

I set my canvas bag down at one of the outdoor tables and headed into the cafe to order a latte. I stand behind a group of apparent tourists, silently begging them to decide what kooky, zany little treat they should get from Portland’s Very First Weed Cafe! That they only found out about through Trip Advisor. I have to calm down. I can't just think mean things about these people because I feel crabby over Craig. I’m not even technically a local, myself. I give myself a little shake to get out of my internal funk and decide to get lost in the beautiful murals that litter the walls. No matter how many times I come here, the artistry will never cease to amaze me. The way the artist seamlessly moves from cool, starry blues into bright, sunny oranges. All surrounded by smoke and foliage. The way each side of the mural is a mirror image of the other side, but it represents duality. Night and Day, Dark and Light. 

“Quinn?” I jump as someone behind me calls my name. I turn around to see a mop of curly hair bounding toward me.  “Josh! It’s so good to see you! I feel like I never see you out and about.”  “Well, it is The Lord’s Day and all. Hobby Lobby is required to grant me this one day of rest.” he lets out a small chuckle at his joke, and I find myself laughing with him. “Too true. How silly of me to forget. I’ve been away from the South for too long.”  “That does seem to be the case, dear. How scandalous of you to overlook the Sabbath.” 

I giggle, stepping up to the counter now that the customers in front of me have ordered and moved on. 

“What do you want, Josh? I’m buying.” I gesture for him to order. “Oh, I- I couldn't.” “I insist. Now hurry up, or we’ll be nearly as bad as them,” I gently incline my head toward the group waiting on drinks. The barista hides a laugh behind their hand.  “See,” I point at the barista, “they agree with me!”  “Fine! But the next round is on me,” he finally gives in and steps in front of me to order a chai latte with a dash of CBD in it. 

I place my order and pay, then Josh and I head out to my claimed table, the barista promising to bring our drinks out. 

“You’ll have to forgive me. I may be a boring conversational partner for a little while. I’ve got to make a lesson plan for the kids this week.” I reach into my bag and pull out my iPad and my notebook.  “I suppose that will be fine,” he replies with mock sarcasm, “no, truly… what you do for those kids is so important, Quinn.” I feel my face heat up and pray that Josh doesn't notice.  “Please, I highly doubt I’m changing lives here,” I raise one eyebrow in disbelief.  “Oh, but you are,” he continues, “I’m sure you remember being that age. How many of your teachers invested in your creativity?”  I think back, and not a single name comes to mind until my high school art teacher.  “Okay… I think I see your point.”  “I’ve seen how excited you get about your students, about your lesson plans. You’re in my store damn near every week. You’re helping these kids in a way they will remember forever.” 

My heart skips a beat, and butterflies erupt in my belly as I Crack a smile. It’s a good feeling to have someone recognize the work I do. To have someone notice the excitement and joy I get out of it. Why doesn't Craig understand? The short-lived smile drops from my face. 

“Thanks, Josh. That means a lot.” I trail off, pulling out my Apple Pencil. 

I begin designing an intricate mandala, getting lost in the precise strokes of my pencil against the paper-textured screen protector. I feel Josh’s eyes on me, intently watching from his seat across the table, but I (try to) ignore him for the moment. Surely, he understands that this is more important than small talk. I notice from the corner of my eye that he’s pulled a notebook out of seemingly nowhere, and he begins scribbling in it. We sit in contented silence for who knows how long. The only sounds between us are our pencils and the occasional squawk of a hungry seagull harassing passersby for a snack. I can feel the stress leave my body as I sit across from him, sharing space but not taking space from each other. 

It’s nice not feeling pressured to provide entertainment as I work. Maybe we can do this more often.

The sound of Josh setting his pencil on the table grabs my attention.  I glance at him as he laces his fingers together and cracks his knuckles, flexing them in a way that showcases the veins in his hands. Oh, brother. I can't look away as he uses his freshly stretched hands to push the long sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. Why is my mouth dry? I slowly reach out to grab my latte. Surely, this will quench my thirst, I think, still watching as Josh picks his pencil up and murmurs an angry “Fuck me” under his breath. My face heats as I replay that frustrated whisper in my head, eyes darting over the muscles contracting in his forearm as he aggressively erases something on his page. Jesus Christ, what is wrong with me? In my slightly frazzled state, eyes definitely not still locked on Josh’s bare arms, I overshoot the paper cup I aimed for and knock it over. I close my eyes, wincing, waiting for Josh to get angry that I spilled something on his notebook, but instead, I hear his tinkling laugh. I open my eyes and see him smiling widely at me, an adorable dimple on full display. 

“Good thing that's empty! I’d hate to cause more work for the barista.” I let out a breath I didn't realize I’d been holding in.  “Yeah, I hate being a pain in the ass customer,” I awkwardly chuckle. Josh stands from the table and stretches his arms over his head, causing the hem of his shirt to ride up. Fuck me. My gaze dips to the pale sliver of skin above the waistband of his pants. I need to relax. Josh clears his throat, glancing down at me, and I finally meet his eyes. 

“Want a refill? I’ll get this round,” he taps his wallet in his pocket. “That sounds great, thank you!���  He nods his head and gathers our empty cups before he heads inside. 

I hang my head in my hands and let out an annoyed groan. Jesus Christ, Quinn. Get it together and stop ogling your friend who is nice enough to buy you a new latte. The truth of the matter is I may be in a relationship with Craig, but I do still have eyes. There’s nothing wrong with admitting that your friends are beautiful. Honestly, the world may be a bit more fun if everyone could accept that their friends are hot, and between Josh’s big brown baby cow eyes, his unruly curls, and his ability to make you feel like you’re the only person in the room, he, unfortunately, veers into Hot Friend Territory. The dimples don’t hurt either. I attempt to finish my drawing while Josh is inside, but I can hardly focus on anything but the odd feeling I get in my chest when I think of him. 

When Josh returns to the table, he sets a fresh cup in front of me.

“I hope this is right. I tried my best to remember what you’d ordered.”“Thank you,” I take a small sip of the obviously correct coffee order, “it’s perfect!”

He visibly relaxes at my confirmation, and I can’t help but think how sweet that is. I can’t remember the last time someone cared so much about something so small. 

“Since we’ve been interrupted,” He starts, “I have to admit I’m curious about what you’re working on.”  “Oh, it’s nothing special. I’m just making a coloring sheet for the kids.” I flip my iPad around, showing him the mandala design before continuing. “I had a hard time coming up with something for them to do this week since the weather isn’t going to be great, and I’m running low on classroom supplies. And I kinda stole an idea from that mural inside.”  “Oh! That sounds interesting. Please continue.” “I’ve always liked mixing warm and cool colors in the same piece like they did inside, and I decided that I want the kids to do the same. So, I’m designing this Mandala coloring sheet for them, and I’m going to have them work on it throughout the week—“ I stop myself, unsure of how much Josh actually cares.

He gestures for me to continue.

“It’s stupid, but I figured I could use this as an opportunity to plant the seed in their brains that art can be used to express and work through your emotions. So, at the start of each class, I’m going to ask them to work with Warm Colors if they’re happy, excited, or in a generally positive mood. Cool colors if they’re not feeling their best.” “Quinn,” he reaches forward and grabs my hand across the table, “that’s not nothing special. That’s beautiful. It’s so important for kids to learn about their emotions and have an outlet to let those emotions out.” 

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. I don’t love being shocked at someone taking my work seriously, but I’m not used to it. Craig always acts like it’s a chore to care about my career. Willa is supportive, but it's different coming from a fellow artist I've known since college. It's nice to feel seen by someone else. 

I pick at my nails for a moment, trying to think of anything to say back to him to convey my appreciation for his words. He reaches a hand across the table and rests it atop mine, and I meet his warm gaze.  “I used to pick my fingernails until they bled,” he starts, “nasty habit.” He gently rubs his thumb across my knuckles, and butterflies erupt in my belly. This is fine. Friends can give each other butterflies. It's totally a normal thing that happens sometimes. I’m sure I could ask anyone, and they’d say, “Of course, Quinn! I get friendly butterflies all the time.” I open my mouth to thank Josh yet again, but I am interrupted by my phone buzzing in my bag. 

Once.  Twice.  Three times. 

I yank my hand out of Josh’s grasp like I’ve been burned. I already know it’s Craig. I can't get more than two and a half hours to myself before he starts bombarding me with messages, begging to know when I’ll be home. A fourth message comes through, and Josh raises an eyebrow. 

“Our Quinn seems popular today,” his eyes light up with mischief, “Should you answer that? Or you could hand it to me. I’m happy to let them know it’s rude to interrupt someone while they're working.” Fucking butterflies are back. “Oh, that's really not necessary, Josh. I’m sure they’ll stop..”  The universe laughs at me; a fifth message comes in immediately after I trail off, and I groan. “You really might want to check that. It sounds like the Pope may have died,” Josh lets out a bewildered chuckle. I shake my head at his vaguely blasphemous joke but reach into my bag and pull out my phone. 

I take a deep breath before clicking into my messages. 

Craig: Where are you?  Craig: You need to come home NOW Craig: I need laundry done  Craig: I don't care how busy you are  Craig: Stop ignoring me 

It's times like these I am glad that I keep my read receipts off for him. I don't know what to say, and I don't want to respond. 

I lock my phone and place it face down on the table next to me. 

“Not the Pope, just a nosy partner,” the word partner feels slightly off coming out of my mouth. It feels like it doesn't belong in this bubble that Josh and I exist in at this moment. I don't have time to unpack that. Josh’s eyebrows scrunch together, and an indecipherable emotion flits across his face as he processes my words. It leaves just as quickly, though. “Offer’s still on the table for me to tell him he’s being rude,” he sounds off, with a half smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. 

My phone buzzes twice more, and I briefly consider slamming my head against the table. 

Craig: So you ARE ignoring me Craig: Cool 

I do gently slam my head against the table at this. It's more like I allow my forehead to kiss the cool metal before letting out a silent scream and then looking back at my messages. 

Me: I’m not ignoring you? I’m working  Me: You’re being rude

His response is immediate 

Craig: Your job isn't more important than our relationship  Me: My job doesn't treat me like its surrogate mother Me: I’m putting myself on DND. I’ll be home when I’m home 

I click into my focus settings and select Danger, Will Robinson, which only allows Willa to reach me. 

Me: If Craig texts you, leave him on read  Wilson: 🫡 Wilson: But we will be discussing this later 

I finally look up at Josh. 

“I’m sorry about that. I told him he was being rude and put my phone on DND,” I trailed off, feeling slightly embarrassed by the situation. “You don't have to apologize to me. You weren't the one being rude.”  I nod my head. Wow, what a foreign concept. I don't know if I can just not apologize; those Cancer traits run deep. I’d take a wild guess that my frequent need to apologize is why Craig thinks he’s allowed to treat me the way he does. I sigh. I need to work on that. I know I need to work on that, but— 

“Where’d you go?” Josh asks, pulling me out of my internal spiral. “Stuck in my head. It happens a lot.”  “Well, let's get you out of there,” he hits me with another boyish grin. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”  “By putting you in mine for a little bit,” he slides his notebook across the table to me. I gently scoop it into my hands, cradling it like a child.  “Are you sure? I don't want to overstep.”  “Go for it. They’re just film ideas. I’ll probably never get around to doing anything with them.” 

I feel bad about looking through his deepest thoughts without offering something in return, so I set his notebook back on the table and began rifling through my bag. 

“A-ha!” I brandish my sketchbook in his face, shaking it back and forth.  He quirks a brow.  “If you're going to let me look through your work, you have to look through mine.” 

We sit in silence, flipping through each other’s notebooks. Josh’s mind is a vast and beautiful thing. He has so many ideas written down, that it's difficult for me to digest it all. Horror, Sci-Fi, Romance, Comedy… He has ideas for every genre. Some are more fleshed out than others, but he has bare-bones ideas for at least fifteen different projects. I sit and read through the outline of a murder mystery he’s clearly put a lot of thought into, and I begin to envision scenes in my mind. I can picture the main characters fully. I can hear their accents as I read through the small bits of dialogue he has written out.  

“This—” we both start at the same time. 

He lets out a soft chuckle and motions for me to go first. 

“I was just going to say that this,” I gesture to his notebook, “is absolutely insane. You are so talented, Josh. Truly.”  His face flushes an adorable shade of pink at my praise, making me want to continue.  “I can picture these characters, hear their voices, and this is just a draft. You’re such a strong storyteller.” “Oh, hush. They're just little stories. As I said, I'll probably never do anything with them,” he scratches at the back of his neck before flipping my notebook back to me, “besides, I don't know why you're praising my work when you literally did this.” The page he flipped around to show me is a portrait I drew of Willa holding a giant bouquet of irises. I filled in the negative space with all the silly nicknames I've given her over the years.  “I don't even know this woman, but I know that you captured her down to her very soul with this piece. I know she would be honored by your portrayal of her.” 

I suck my bottom lip between my teeth and chew on it. Would she be? I've never shown her this drawing. Maybe I should. 

“Thank you, that means a lot,” I finally say, meeting his eyes, “she's my best friend, and I've never felt like that drawing does her justice.” “I can assure you, anyone would be happy to see themself drawn with such reverence.”  “So, I guess we’re both pretty good at what we do,” I laugh.  “It would seem so!” 

My phone buzzes again, and I sigh and pick it up, muttering another apology to Josh. 

Wilson: Craig’s on the warpath  Me: JDJDBCHDHEJJS okay. I’ll head home so he’ll leave you alone. Wilson: Call me on your way ☺️

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but my boyfriend,” there's that weird feeling again, “has moved on to harassing Willa, so..” I trail off. 

He nods, moving to stand when I do. He reaches over to me and wraps me in a hug, splaying his hand across my back and rubbing gentle circles between my shoulder blades. 

“Thank you for letting me sit and work with you. It was really nice,” he finally pulls back.  “No, thank you. I had a beautiful afternoon. We should do it again sometime.” I grab my bag off the back of my chair and say my final goodbyes while pulling my phone out and hitting Call on Willa’s contact.  She obviously answers on the first ring. 

“Quincy. Quinny. Quailman.”  I hold in a laugh as she rattles off nicknames for me “Wilbur!”  “Are you on your way home?”  “Yeah, but I’m walking, so I have time for your interrogation.” I look down at my feet and kick a few stray rocks across the sidewalk, prepping for whatever she’s going to say. Why do I feel like I’m about to get in trouble? I didn't do anything wrong.  “Beautiful! Because I do have questions.”  “Shoot,” I breathe out a laugh at her nosiness.  “Firstly, yes, firstly. Why did you have me covering for you with Greg?”  “Technically, dear Wilson, I asked you to ignore Craig,” I emphasize Craig. Willa loves to call him Greg to rile him up, but I usually end up catching the heat for it when she does it to him in person. I’m trying to train her out of it. “It’s difficult to ignore a man who blows your phone up seventeen times in ten minutes.” I can practically hear her eye roll.  “Welcome to my life, Wills,” I grunt as I kick another stray rock into the street.  “It's unhealthy, you know.”  “Mhmmmmmmm.” “Well, what were you doing that was,” she puts on her very worst Craig impression, “more important than responding to Greg?”  “I was working on a lesson plan. He came into the kitchen, harassing me about laundry this morning while I was trying to work, so I left.” “Sure.”  “Sure? What does that mean?”  “It means that I’m sure that's why you left. But there’s more to it.” 

I groan; we’ve known each other long enough that she can tell when I'm omitting information. 

“It wasn't anything special, really. I left, came to Higher Grounds, I maybe ranintoafriend,” I try to breeze over the last part, “and then here we are.”  “Run that last bit by me again, Quinn.”  “I ran into a friend,” I squeak out, knowing there’s no sense in trying to dodge the question. Willa is like a bloodhound when she wants information.  “I'm your only friend, and you didn't run into me, so.”  “Hey! I resent that.”  “You resent it because it's true!” I grumble at her as I turn the corner and head down my street to my apartment building.  “FINE. I ran into the guy from Hobby Lobby, and we sat and worked together.”  “The guy from Hobby Lobby?”  “Yeah, Josh. The manager?”  “Stock Boy?”  “The very one!”  “So, what? You ignored your partner,” She shudders over the word, “to go on a coffee date with the guy that caused Greg to yell at you in a Gamestop?”  “Whose side are you on?”  “YOURS. But, I’m playing devil's advocate, and the Devil said you cannot tell Greg that.”  “Why? We’re just friends.”  “Greg is convinced that you are in love with me. Do you really think he won’t have an incorrect opinion on your coffee date with another man?”  “Not a date, but I see your point.”  “Don't make a habit of being wrong, you know.”  “I know, I know,” I say, sliding my key into the lock on my door, “anyway, I'm home. I have to deal with hurricane Craig.”  “Love you, babes. Text me if you need me.”  “Love you, too.” 

I hang up the call and slide my phone back into my bag, bracing myself for whatever is about to blow up. 

“Nice of you to come home, babe,” he greets me with fake sincerity when I enter the kitchen.  “I missed you!” I reply, voice dripping in sarcasm.  “Oh, I'm certain that's true. That's why I had to contact Willa to get you to come home,” he huffs, “what did you even work on anyway?” 

I pull out my iPad and show him the mandala.

“You couldn’t have printed a coloring sheet off Google?” 

So, this is how it’s gonna go. I slam my iPad down on the counter and quickly turn around to face him. 

“No, Craig,” I grit my teeth, “I couldn't print it off Google. Because my students deserve more than that.”  “You're a student teacher. They aren't even your students.” 

I close my eyes and run a hand down my face, sucking in a deep breath to stop myself from absolutely tearing into him. Once I have a handle on my anger, I let my breath out and open my eyes to meet Craig’s. 

“You can put me down, but do not dismiss my career.”  “Career? You’re still in school.”  “Which is a lot more than can be said for you!”  Craig lets out an annoyed laugh  “All I wanted to know is why you were gone for so long, and now you're attacking me.” 

A breath catches in my throat. Does he really think I'm attacking him? Does he not see what he’s been doing to me all day long? Oh, he wants to play it that way? Sorry, Willa. Fuck your advice, we’re going rogue.  

“Hey, Craig,” I let out a slightly unhinged laugh, “do you want to know what I was actually doing?” 

He raises an eyebrow. 

“I was with Josh, you know, the guy from Hobby Lobby? I ran into him at Higher Grounds, and I bought him a coffee. Then we sat at a table together, and he told me how important my work was. And we had a beautiful three-hour-long conversation. And it was the least stressful thing I've dealt with today.” 

I turn away from him, grabbing my canvas bag and iPad 

“I’m going to the room. Do not follow me.” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, I walk down the hallway and into our bedroom. I shut and lock the door, then pull out my sketchbook and a pencil, flipping to the first free page. Despite my anger and hurt, my thoughts are still full of Josh’s hair and his dimples, so I put my pencil to the paper and begin to draw him from memory. 

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[alicewonderao3]

Mutual Pining

Title: Mutual Pining

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Spencer Reid, fem!original character.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!original character

Warnings: None, fluffy. Use of fem!character, mentions of violence typical for criminal minds, Aaron has a nickname for her.

Summary: She's been pining after her gorgeous boss for a while now, and is unwilling to believe the older man might possibly return her feelings. What happens when she gets injured on a case, and he proves her wrong?

Authors note: So this is something I've had in my drafts for a long time now. I started writing it and just never had the motivation to finish it until today. I didn't realize I used one of the prompts for @the-slumberparty's naughty or nice challenge until after I'd edited the piece, so I'm submitting it at as well. I'm rewatching Criminal minds and working on a piece out of my wheelhouse, a soft!dark Aaron Hotchner. It's gonna be good. As always, I have no beta, and if I missed any warnings or tags, let me know, and all spelling and grammar mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,553

Life can be cruel sometimes. It can be downright nasty, but right now, I can't help but curse life with all my being. I'm working at my desk, and I'm supposed to be studying crime scene photos and helping form the profile so we can catch this latest in a long line of bad, bad men, but I can't. How can I be expected to focus when Aaron's just standing over there, talking with Rossi about something, I'm not sure what, looking as gorgeous as he is? 

It's a shame. I sigh, returning to my work when I see Rossi's eyes catch mine, watching me admire Aaron, and my cheeks flush and I duck my head, my dark curls hiding my face as I examine the crime scene photos with a sudden interest. The two walk by my desk, but say nothing. Rossi is the only one in the office who knows of my crush on Aaron, revealed one night when I arrived early at his house for a team dinner. 

He's the only one who knows how much I like him, and admire him. He's told me to make my move several times, but it's hard. I don't know if Aaron even likes me in that way, let alone if he even notices me. Sometimes he tends to look right through people, with that single-minded determination he's got. 

It's easy to like Aaron Hotchner. So easy. The man is gorgeous, and tall, with dark brown eyes and hair that is never out of place. And don't get me started on the suits he wears. They fit his muscled frame beautifully, and the man has no idea the effect he has on me by simply walking in. But it's not just looks. Aaron's funny, intelligent, and incredibly sweet. 

There is a lot hidden under that cool reserve he has, that mask he uses to keep the world out. He keeps people at arm's length and has ever since Haley died. He keeps Jack close to him, and I can't help but adore the little boy. After his dad, I'm his obvious favorite, and he loves hanging with me at my desk. I keep a special drawer in my desk just for Jack, full of dinosaurs and his favorite snacks, plenty of crayons and coloring sheets, and books. 

I sigh again, glancing down at the crime scene photos with a wince. I should be working, not here daydreaming about my older, but attractive boss, but he doesn't make it easy for me. Lucky for me, he's also completely oblivious to my feelings. Or how women view him in general. He hasn't dated anyone since he broke up with Beth a few months ago. 

I glance up as I feel a pair of eyes on me and see it's Aaron, standing outside his office, looking over the bullpen. I know he's making sure we're making progress, and his eyes catch mine for a moment, making my heart skip a beat and my breath catch. I look up at him, sending him a warm smile, one which he returns, to my delight. 

He wanders back into his office, and I sigh. I jump when I hear Rossi's voice. "When are you going to tell him how you feel?" I sigh, fidgeting with my fingers for a moment. "I don't know. I don't even know how he feels," Rossi sighs again, his voice frustrated. "You won't know until you talk to him, you know. Maybe he returns your feelings?" 

I sigh, but there's something about Rossi's remark that catches me off guard. "Wait, what do you know?" I asked him, and he just shook his head. "Uh-huh, flower. If you wanna know, you go ask him. Better yet, tomorrow is casual Friday. Wear that pink sundress you wore to the last team dinner." 

He walks off and I watch him, shaking my head. Flower was Aaron's nickname for me. It was only his nickname for me. He did have sort of a soft spot for me, although I insisted he didn't treat me any differently than the other agents. He was the only one who was allowed to use it in regards to me and everyone knew it. 

Morgan had nicknames for everyone but me, and when he'd innocently called me flower, hearing Aaron do it, was the last time he'd used it. Aaron had turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. He didn't speak or ask any questions. Morgan held his hands up and never called me that again, but he did tease me about being the only agent allowed to call Hotch by his first name. 

I decided to take Rossi's advice and showed up for casual Friday wearing said dress. It was a soft pink color, with tiny white flowers scattered on the fabric. It was modest enough for work while still hugging my curves, my leg poking out of the slit as I walked through the office. I couldn't wear the pink heels I'd worn at the team dinner with this outfit, but I wore pink Converse instead. My dark curls were loose, pulled back in a half-ponytail with a flowery clip. 

Aaron was standing outside his office, observing the agents as we all arrived and his eyes met mine. I could have sworn I saw something in his eyes as he saw me, but it was gone. I smiled warmly up at him, and I wasn't surprised when Rossi handed me some files to go drop off to him. 

I knocked softly and walked in, meeting his eyes. "Good morning, Aaron," I said softly, my voice warm and gentle. His eyes met mine and I saw his face relax. "Good morning, Flower." My smile got wider as I walked in, setting the files on his desk. "Rossi asked me to give these to you." 

He nodded at me, and said, "Thank you, flower." He picked one up and it was a clear dismissal. I nodded and left his office. Rossi met my eyes and said, "Well?" I shrugged my shoulders. "I gave him the files," I said softly.

I walked away as Rossi shook his head. Then he caught my attention. "Hey, Alice?" I turned to face him. "Spencer needs help with that profile, help him will you?" I nodded. 

I spent the morning in one of the conference rooms with Spencer helping him. My soft laughter and giggles filtered out into the hallway and bullpen as we worked. I enjoyed working with Spencer. We liked a lot of the same things and had the same sense of humor. He always made me laugh. I may have missed the way Aaron would stare extra hard when Spencer made me laugh, but Rossi hadn't although I didn't realize this at the time. 

Spencer was in the middle of telling me a joke when we heard a throat being cleared. I was facing him, and my eyes were fixed on Spencer's as I looked up at him, my small hand on his arm as he made me giggle, and we both turned to see Aaron standing in the doorway. He had his arms crossed. "Sounds like more giggling in here than actual work." His voice was tight, almost as if he was restraining himself. 

"Sorry, Hotch." Spencer said, "We're working." He said, gesturing to the whiteboard. I nodded, my dark curls bouncing. "Yeah. He was just telling me a funny joke." I said, "We are working, Aaron, I promise." I missed the way Aaron relaxed at my words, missed the way his eyes softened as he looked at me, but Spencer didn't. 

The team loved to tease me about Aaron's supposed soft spot for me. I said they were crazy. They begged to differ. Spencer's grin got wider a moment and then he casually draped his arms over my shoulders, his hands brushing my sides, making me giggle again. "Spencer!" I said, slipping from him. 

I missed the way Aaron's eyes darkened as Spencer's arms slipped over my shoulders, and even more so when I'd darted away and giggled. All I heard was Aaron's voice sharp, as he raised it in my direction for the first time. "Alice, there is a time for laughing and now is not it." He said, and his tone took me by surprise. My whole face fell, but I schooled it. 

My voice was softer, subdued. "I'm sorry Aaron," I said, and he just turned on his heel and left, leaving me alone with Spencer, wondering what I did wrong. I helped Spencer with the profile and took it to Aaron later, my voice hesitant, as I set it on his desk. "I have that profile for you," I said, meeting his eyes. 

He didn't even look up at me at first, and when he did, his voice was tight, as if he was restraining himself. "Thank you." It was only two words, but the way he said them made my heart sink and my stomach twist. Was he mad at me? I had to know, so I asked. "Aaron?" I asked, my voice soft. 

He looked up at me, where I stood in front of his desk, my small hands twisting together, shifting my weight from foot to foot in my soft pink dress and I asked, "Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?" My warm honey-brown eyes were locked onto his and I saw him set the profile down, his whole expression softening at the panicked look I'm sure I was wearing. 

"No, Flower. I'm not mad at you." He said, his voice gentle, as he stood up, taking one of my hands in his. "I was just disappointed to hear you and Spencer fooling around." He said, and his choice of words made me pause. "We weren't fooling around," I said, confused as I met his eyes. "Spencer was just telling me jokes and picking on me," I said, my head tilting as I looked up at him. 

"Well," He said, as he stared down at me. "Didn't seem that way," He said, as he patted my small hand softly. "Now that you've helped Spencer, why don't you-" but he was cut off when Rossi came back in, saying we had a lead on the suspect. Garcia figured out which bar he was getting his girls from and Morgan made the suggestion someone go in as bait. 

Everyone's eyes turned to me at once. "What?" I said, meeting their gazes, before realizing what they meant. Aaron was the only one who was against it until Rossi pointed out that it was our only means of catching him. And that's how I found myself at the bar, wearing my communication device and fielding the advances of several men. 

The whole time I could hear Aaron's almost tight tone in my ear, "Move away from those men, you need to seem available to the unsub." He says, and I hear the controlled giggles of a few team members at his tone. I slip down the bar and this time when I'm approached, I know it's our unsub. He's charming as he flirts with me, his eyes focused on mine, as he carefully reaches out to tuck my curls behind my ear. 

We know his MO is to drug his victims, to get them out of the bar, and so when I set my drink down and turn for the briefest second, I know he's drugged it when I hear that frustrated sound leave Aaron's throat, followed by, "Do not drink that, flower. Get him to take you out near the alley, we're waiting." 

I do a good job of pretending I'm drugged, but instead of taking me to the alley behind the bar, he steers me out front, toward the white van waiting across the street. I can hear the team as they scramble to make their way around, and all pretenses dropped, I struggle in his hold, as tight as it is. 

He shoves me into a wall, my cheek scraping against the hard brick as he kicks my feet apart, and when his hand covers my mouth to attempt to silence my screams, I bite him, prompting him to shove me harder into the wall, turning me around to slap me just as the team rounds the corner and finds us. 

He's taken with brutal force after he's shoved me forward and into Aaron's waiting arms. My cheek is bleeding as Aaron's large hands cup my face, his concerned brown eyes meeting mine ."Are you okay, flower?" He asks, his thumbs gentle as he turns my face this way and that, examining it. 

I nod, "Just my cheek," I murmur, and I see his expression grow concerned as he pulls me to the side, bandaging me himself. "How did that happen?" He asked gently, and I saw him tense as I told him how he shoved me into the brick wall. His hands are gentle as he patches me up, and I can't help but say, "Have a lot of practice patching up Jack huh?" 

He laughs, the sound soft and gentle. "Yeah, he's always scraping his knee." He says, as he gently cleans my scrape and places a bandage over the scrape. His eyes focus on mine as he sighs. "There, all better." He says, his finger lingering on my cheek. 

I don't know what prompts me, but the words leave me before I think them over, my cheeks flushing, "Kiss it better?" I see him tense, his eyes searching mine for something before he nods, leaning in close to me as my heart races in my chest, his lips gently brushing over the bandage. I'm breathing a bit heavily as he pulls back a little. 

His voice is husky, "Better?" I shake my head, my curls fluttering along my cheeks with my movements. "Again?" I ask, my eyes soft and voice pleading, as his hand gently cups my face. "One more time," He says, and this time he leans in, his lips brushing across mine with a tenderness I'd never seen from him before. His kiss is soft and gentle, my heart racing in my chest as he kisses me like I'm the most important person in the world to him, our surroundings melting away as he kisses me. 

We're interrupted mid-kiss by the catcalls of the team as they catch us, and my cheeks flush as we both pull away from each other. I can see the faint blush on Aaron's cheeks as we hear the team teasing us. Rossi walks up and claps a hand on his shoulder. "I knew you'd do it sooner or later, Aaron." He winks at me as he walks away, and I realize that the team was indeed right. He did have a soft spot for me. 

Aaron's fingers are gentle on my face as he promises, "We'll do that again later, without witnesses, flower." And it's the husky quality of his voice, the gentleness of his touch, that makes my heart skip a beat as I can't wait for later. Later, which comes in his office when we make it back to the mission, as his lips find mine again, and the door closing so we have no witnesses this time. 

[bowtiesnmusicals]

Here is my recap of the Things Get a Little Harry with Harry Shum Jr. Episode of the podcast.

Today they have a very very special guest. Kevin said its a long one so lets get to it.

They have the one, the only, well actually the second because he is Harry Shum Jr but the one and only Mike Chang.

Kevin said get ready for some wisdom. Jenna said he is such a golden nugget of good thoughts. Kevin said what’s it like to smart. Jenna said I’ll never know. They have to combine their brains to make a barely whole brain.

Kevin said as the years have gone by one of the biggest voices of reason amongst all of them is Harry. He is low key about it. He is a calm and steady force. He said maybe as Harry has gotten older he just speaks his mind and is always right. He has always just had really profound, wise thoughts. Harry said for people that are listening he made that scrunch face kind of like what, where are you every single day of life when I am making completely wrong decisions and saying wrong things. He said he doesn’t know what to say to that. He said maybe because they are on a podcast and speaking more and so their ratio is going to be different.

Jenna said I don’t even know where to begin with you because he started with them. They had such a journey. Harry said we had quite a journey on a rocket ship. Jenna mentioned he has been multiple shows as a series regular. She congratulated him on getting on Grey’s Anatomy. She said she is so happy for Harry and he deserves everything. Also Grey’s was one of favorite shows back in the day. Harry said he thought about her when he got on because Jenna would obsess over the show. He said she would say she has to go. She would DVR it but wanted to watch it live. He said he got a lot of what the vibe of the show as from Jenna. She said your welcome. Harry said you did my homework for me. Jenna said she has to go back because she stopped watching a few years ago. She said she always comes back. It’s still so good ever time she comes back and she definitely watch the new class with Harry. She asked if he having a good time on the show. He said he is and it’s amazing that they brought on five new interns and taking good care and putting effort in getting to know them. He said being on a show that is going into its 20 season and still working at a high level and everyone is gracious and still trying to make it the best it can be. He said they have all been on projects where at a certain year it’s like alright lets get it done. Kevin joked what are you talking about. Jenna was laughing really hard at this point. Hurry said he feels very fortunate and it’s a constant reminder that you can constantly refresh yourself. It’s a really cool thing to be a part of.

Kevin said he remembers hanging out with Harry at Amber’s Masked Singer party and talking about how Harry told him that they were giving him actual medal classes. That he would go to USC and talk to real interns. Harry said they got to see surgery and talk to doctors and interns. He said it was incredibly helpful. He said the importance of the medical stuff, advancing it, and questioning it and also trying to look at it from completely different perspectives while also dealing with the relationship issues and why doctors marry other doctors. You don’t have time to look outside of work to find romance. Kevin said it crazy to have a show that after 20 seasons the show is still grounded and have people coming in with the resources like that. Harry said the medical director, Linda Klein, and she has been with the show since the very beginning. He said she is a beast and knows anyone and everyone in the medical field. He said it’s really amazing you can go to her saying you have an issue who should I go see no she will be like go to this person. Jenna said Kevin needs that. He said this has turned into a Grey’s recap podcast and he’s not mad at it. Jenna said that was her full intention was to only talk about Grey’s Anatomy.

Jenna asked how did being on shows like Glee and Shadowhunters helped him for where he is now. Harry said he things every project helps you in some way. He said he looks at the things he doesn’t get right while he is on the show. Failure is just a discovery of something that doesn’t work. He said to him every time you are on a show you are figuring out what wrong things you don’t want to do it again. He said instead of getting it right because when you get it right you don’t know if its right. A director might say yeah but you don’t know if that is the best thing you could have done. He said he has always wanted to be bicoastal and it was his dream. Going to Toronto to work on Shadowhunters but having family in LA, he was like oh this is rough. He understood what it felt like for someone to move from New York to LA and have all their family on the east coast. It’s hard. He said you get put in a different headspace because like in Shadowhunters he is playing a 400 year old warlock. It’s completely different then being on Glee. The biggest conundrum was does he take off the nail polish off or leave it on because he has to come back tomorrow and will have to have it put on all over again. He said he thought is this what women think about like do I take of my mascara, I am told to take it off because it’s gross. Jenna said a lot of people don’t. He said he had moments like why would I. It’s kind of like why take a shower you are just going to have to take it again. Kevin said the things you learn. Jenna said it’s a heavy mental load.

Jenna thought that he and Shelby had their daughter while he was working in Toronto. He said, no, not yet. Jenna said that would have added a whole mother level of madness. He said sometimes he gets two days off and feels like he hasn’t seen her in a week.

Jenna told Harry they were just watching Duets. They just recapped it and Jenna already forgot about the chicken feet. She said she has no memory.

Jenna asks Harry to remind everyone how he was brought into Glee. He said he remembers the day he walked onto set having a letterman’s jacket and not knowing what he was about to embark on. He did the fitting and he knew he was going to work for a week. He remembers walking around set and seeing Cory and Mark standing outside of the choir room. He said he doesn’t think he even got called into rehearsal. He got called on to set when they were about to shoot a scene. He met Cory and Mark and then walked into the room. He greeted Kevin and they kind new each other through Kevin’s NLT days. They had lot of mutual friends. He knew Dianna because she had auditioned with his wife Shelby. He had never met Zach but he knew of him. He said everyone was so nice and happy. Kevin said oh good. Harry said I don’t know what you said behind my back. Kevin said no one has ever said anything bad about Harry ever. Harry also mentioned Heather. He said he remember that it felt like this is special and it would be nice to stay here a little longer but you know how these things could end up where you con’t get asked back but luckily he kept getting asked back over and over.

Kevin mentioned how Heather had talked about her evolution of thinking about the show or herself and the production and how she came from the dancing world where it was like shut up, keep your head down and work really hard as opposed to at some point advocating for yourself in certain situations. He asked if Harry felt like coming from that side of it that where he didn’t know if would come back every week as opposed to the regulars as an actor and that perspective is very different. How does that affect you mentally? Harry said there is a beauty that now he has accepted and enjoys that he doesn’t know what will happen next even though he does have short term goals and even big goals. He said as a 20 year old that is very very hard. He said if you talk to a lot of dancers like Heather that is pretty much how you function. You are job to job unless you go on tour and even that only lasts for a certain amount of time before having to start all over again. He said the idea of putting your head down and having a fear of getting fired. Just don’t get fired, that is the worst thing you could do. He said for him he learned to just quit before you get fired so they don’t fire you so you are dodging the bullet. Kevin said don’t overstay your welcome. Harry said sometimes you are self sabotaging yourself. You just keep digging yourself a hole. He said it was always nice to open a script and see that you have a line. Sometimes there wasn’t and he would be like cool and he would just make up something in the background. He said it was a journey and there is so much technique behind him and luckily he did extra work back in the day and got a little taste of that and this was sort of amplified on Glee. Kevin said it has been nice watching season 2 and each episode Harry had more and more and more. He said the scene in the library where Mike and Tina yell at each other. Not only does Harry get to speak but he gets to yell and show emotion. Unfortunately it’s all dim sum related for episodes which is a whole other thing. Jenna said it is a whole other thing and let’s talk about it.

Jenna said she was curious about Harry’s feelings as he has stepped of the Glee train for many years now like looking back. What were some of his sentiments, if he feels like sharing, about a lot of their comedy being about Asian. She said she knows everyone was getting made fun of their own things but theirs was very race forward. She is curious what his reflections are on that in the time we are in now. Harry said as he has grown older and being more reflective and looking back at a time where it was difficult to talk about those things with people that are writing those things. He said now he has learned to think about it first and then feel is this worthy to take someone’s time to talk about it and most of the time it is and most of the time you can do your own thing to spin it the way that doesn’t feel that way because not everything needs a conversation. It’s given him more confidence to speak on something where its like if you are going to make a joke just make it funny and creative and if it’s not then don’t do it. He said there is a sense of truth and you can appreciate someone that spent a lot of time writing something that is well thought out, understood, and comes from a place of complete understanding as opposed to I am just going to make fun of this thing. He said he tries to look at it from the other side because we sometimes get into our own feelings and being like I am offended by this thing or that thing. He has learned to not do that. He said he hates to say this because it is so cliche but it was a different time where you could only do so much. Either you to choose to do it or you chose to not be a part of it. He says that is a very hard thing. He said he remembers James Hong coming on to the Glee set and he came up to Harry and said hey this show is really popular. He pulled out his card that had his headshot and said hey if you ever need anyone that looks like give me a call or hand it to whoever. Harry said he never got to tell him that story but he did get to hang out with him at the Oscars. Harry said to see what he’s seen and to compare it to what they experienced on the show you can see that progression. Harry saw that progression. They got to do things that weren’t completely about they looked like and he takes that as a victory. He said you look at the generation now and they don’t have to do that anymore. They don’t have to choose between that and if they do they have a lot more power to speak up on. He said he likes to their contributions of sticking in their and doing it, even if it wasn’t what everyone agrees is the best way to do it, they stuck out there and put an example out of what not to do again and to what to do make it better or do better. He said he thinks that is just wonderful. At the time he didn’t feel that way but now he does. He mentioned it was a beautiful thing to see Ke Huy Quan when an Oscar especially after everything he went through in the 80s. He said out of all the shows he has worked on Glee was the hardest and no one will ever understand what they hav been through and what they have done. He said it will go down in history as one of the craziest shows to ever exist. Jenna said you heard it from Harry, the man who continues to work. She’s said it really was such a wild ride.

Kevin said you’ve been a part of so many special and groundbreaking projects. He has worked on Everything Every Where All At Once and Crazy Rich Asian. Kevin those are culture changing projects. Glee was it’s own weird phenomenon. He asked if Harry feels like going through all those things gives him he capacity to be a part of something special. Kevin said he didn’t want to say being something special. Harry said I guess that was a line. Kevin said to watch someone like Harry who is so nice and works so hard and deserves all of that. Each of these things comes with their own unique responsibilities. He asked if Harry had felt that on each project. Harry said he always tries to think how did I get here, what did I do. He said he thinks it has very little do with him. He said the people he has gotten to come in contact with throughout all of these interesting projects is what really influences him taking those different steps. He said he genuinely loves Kevin and Jenna. He said they always made him feel like part of the group. He said he remembers that feeling. He said both of them did that for him but even a lot of people at the studio, it brought the best out of people but there were parts where it brought the worst out of people. He said the best was making him feel like was meant to be be there at events where he felt like he wasn’t supposed to be there, like award shows. He said he tries to remember to give back to those that were like him when he started. He said he believes you attract a certain energy and giving off that certain energy. He said Everything Everywhere felt like the penultimate that comes with age and comes with experience and comes wit going through the fire and know that this is an experience like no other and hoping that others get to experience hat feeling camaraderie and film making at its highest level. You get to do what you want to and not worry what people are going to think. He thinks in a lot of ways Glee did that as well. It took a lot of chances and sometimes it didn’t work but a lot of the time it did. He said he likes going to different spaces and adapting. He said some sets are very rigid and set in their ways. He said he likes seeing what else you put that make it a little more, as Kevin said, special. Jenna said she does think it is the energy he gives and she hates saying it but he was a team player. She said he worked hard and was a voice of reason and tried to find the best and appreciation and gratitude in what they were doing. That sometimes they needed to take a step back and look at the bigger picture. She said she agrees that at times Glee brought out the best of them but also at times brought out the worst as well. She said there are sides of her it brought out that she never wants to see again. She said it was really hard at times and you couldn’t speak up and you couldn’t do things that others got away with. She said having friends and comrades to dig through the trenches with was priceless.

Harry said there were moments they would get off work and hang and talk for hours and hours. Those are the moments he savors. He said he has been taking a lot of hot showers and cold showers. He said it makes him think about the lowest of lows and highest of highs. That spectrum that you see the edge of what you can feel and handle. Anything in between seems easy. He said that is the greatest gift. He said he can just see some people break when they hear they have a two hour rehearsal and Harry is like that is nothing after what he has been through. He said they didn’t know where they were at half the time. They would be bouncing around from shooting scenes, recording songs, rehearsing dance numbers, and doing promo stuff. Harry said it is the bootcamp that couldn’t exist today. Kevin said he remembers thinking that if Harry started to lose it, it was like watching your dad cry for the first time. He was like oh no. He knew if Harry broke or was mad then it was bad. Harry said he remembered watching them because they had more to do. He said it would anger him they weren’t given a space to decompress. He said that is where he broke a couple of times. It was just wrong.

Jenna said Glee prepped her for motherhood because motherhood is the ultimate multitasking. She is like this is nothing compared to Glee. Glee was like wrangling 12 children and personalities at one time. She said Emma has a big personality.

Jenna said they have a lot of Mike and Tina memories. They had to kiss a lot on the show. Eric Stoltz told them had to make out the whole time in the background while Rachel is singing Jar of Hearts. She said she doesn’t know how all the cameras got them no matter where they were. She said Lea did that song so many times, like 8 times. She said she remembers one time their lips wee touching and they were laughing the whole time. She said jokingly I hate you Eric. Harry said he forgot about that. Harry said Eric is an intense dude when it comes to getting shots that he wants. He wore a suit and was old school with no sides on set. Harry was like he has to give an Emmy award winning kiss, eight times for three minutes each. Kevins said we may not have lines but we are going to kiss. Jenna said Eric had them on the roller coaster at six flags and made them kiss on it. Apparently Eric loved it and they were like really Eric, again. Harry said it is really awkward to do it over and over again and then try to make it interesting. Harry and Jenna would eat the worst shit they could think of to make it more interesting.

Jenna pointed out Kevin and Harry got to do some fun stuff. Jenna said Scream is one of the best numbers hands down. Kevin said it was such a fun day. Harry said it was a fun day and Kevin got to get out of the wheelchair and really just tear it up. He said it was really fun to shoot with Alfonso. They couldn’t see him, he just left them to do their own thing. Kevin said they were running back and forth to see what the others were doing. Kevin said they got to pitch what they wanted for the Michael episodes. Harry and Kevin put together a whole presentation. Kevin said to get invited into their writers space was so weird. Kevin said he had been talking with Harry because Teenage Dream had done so well because it was a bit different. They realized the songs that did really well were the ones that were different but they didn’t want to Michael songs to sound like kidz bop So they plotted to get them to let the cast to pitch songs for the Michael songs. Harry and Kevin had a whole plot line. They wanted The Way You Make Me Feel. Harry said he thinks Scream was floating around but they would’ve dare ask for that .Kevin said they would never dream of asking for something with such a big budget. Harry thinks the tempo of the song changed several times. Kevin said that was the most dancing he had ever danced and their was no one to hide behind. He said he felt like he was screwed. Kevin said one of the best things about Harry is that he commits. He said you just watch Harry go full out and were pulled into it. Jenna said you just show up. Kevin said we got to do some crazy things. Jenna said her favorites were the guys numbers when they didn’t know what was going on and hey got to sit back and cheer for them. Jenna said she forgot the storyline that Mike taking on the lead and then his parents wouldn’t let him do it. Harry said it always funny how everything is so fluid but then a song doesn’t get cleared and everything changes.

Jenna asked the question she always does at the end of these episodes. She asked what is the feeling that Glee left you with t hen versus now? Is it the same, has it evolved? Harry turned the question back on Jenna and Kevin. He said the craziest thing was seeing a 12 or 13 saying that Glee was her favorite show. He said he doesn’t know how he feels about that. Kevin said like you weren’t born when the show started. He said at the Oscars some younger actors came up to him and said they loved him Glee and he was like you are eight years old. He said they left a certain stamp on that time period. They contributed to popular culture and music. It’s neat to see that carried over into another generation that can enjoy this thing. He said the show at is core is about expressing joy. He said he feels like that is resonating with younger generation. He feels like its cool to be part of something that he doesn’t know if it will ever exist again. He said he’s definitely gotten people calling him trying to do the same thing. He said the fact that you don’t know what you are doing you are probably going to do things no one else is going to do. He asked if they have had that same kind of experience. Kevin said it’s the exact same. It’s been crazy. It’s strange. It feels nice. It’ not something you think about while doing the show. He said that is part of what incentivized them to do this podcast. He said it nice to feel like they were a part of something that was culturally significant and speaks to people that want to experience joy and see joy in people like themselves on screen. Jenna said it’s the bigger picture. The effect and stamp they left. She said she wishes in hindsight that she was able to see it the way they see now even just a little more because it would given her a bit of perspective. She said she wishes that she could have thought about ht bigger picture more. She said had she known what she knows now she would have handled things differently. Harry said isn’t that always the thing. Kevin said it is so interesting to hear how Harry thought he was such an asshole during Glee. He said we are always in our own heads and have different perspectives. He said sure did Harry have some moments where he was worn out and didn’t handle some things correctly, sure everyone does those things. He said on the whole Harry’s perspective was really good. When you are working 14, 15, 16 hour days no matter how good your perspective is you are going to be worn out. Harry said sometimes you have to think if it is you being an asshole to yourself or other people. Kevin said oh damn. Harry said he was probably an asshole to himself. He said it takes time to repair that. Jenna said that is fair and very profound. Harry joked saying we would be gods if we went back to high school. Kevin said don’t tempt Ryan and then said Harry is unavailable. Jenna said they would make Harry available. She said is nice to look back and go oh yeah it was really great, we did have really good times, and treasure those moments. That is why still stay in touch and love each other. She said the appreciation for it could have been more and they could have led with that but here we are. Harry said it is the intervals that it happens in and you don’t have time to appreciate it because it’s already on to the next. He said that also speaks to society now. Kevin said you have to spend so much mental power to make sure you are present and appreciative in addition to the opportunity. Sometimes you don’t have the capacity to be aware and conscious of that all the time.

Harry said I love you guys. Jenna said it’s so good to see you. She also they could talk for hours. She said it is so good to see your friends succeed. Kevin said you are the best of us. Harry thanked them for always reaching out. He said he wants to see their faces in real life soon. Jenna said to say hi to your awesome wife. They basically set up having dinner together.

Jenna said Harry is deserving of everything. Kevin said it gave him goosebumps. He couldn’t be prouder. He then thanked Harry for joining them.

[iriswords]

Febuwhump Day 17 - Silent tears

You can also read this on ao3 and find the rest of my febuwhump fics here

tw: light mentions of past child abuse, overall really bad mental health

Fandom: Batman

Words: 2036

Tim was taught not to be an inconvenience. Good children are to be seen, not heard. For years, he's cried silently and unseen and as time passed, he got better at repressing his tears altogether. But as a rough week leaves him emotionally vulnerable, Tim struggles to keep his mask on around his family.

Tim has always been a quiet, compliant child. He learns from a very young age that good children are to be seen, not heard. That good children do not talk unless talked to. And, most importantly, that good children do not cry, because crying is making a scene, and good children do not make scenes.

He makes the mistake of complaining because his parents drag him to a gala that stretches out late into the night only once. His cheek burns with the fire of a vicious slap as soon as the Drakes are in the secrecy of their mausoleum of a manor. He cries himself to sleep that night, his tiny body curled onto itself, fists tightened in the sheets. When he wakes up the next morning, his parents are long gone, their bed cold and neatly made. They do not come back for another six months. 

During that time, it does not matter, how loud Tim is or isn’t. There isn’t anyone around to hear or be bothered by his noise. But silence is ingrained in him, as some kind of survival instinct. He swallows his tears and sobs and clasps a firm hand over his mouth when they come out despite his efforts. He cries silently, painfully, too scared of being an inconvenience even when there is no one around to inconvenience. 

He sobs loudly once, in a strange idea of rebellion no one is there to witness. His cries echo in the empty house and come back to him tenfold. He decides it is worse than feeling like he is imploding, and he reverts to crying silently, his body straining with the effort of keeping it all in.

It becomes a useful skill after that, to be able to cry silently. But as he grows and perfects his mask, as he masters the art of repressing his emotions so far down he can barely feel them, he uses that skill less and less. 

 Tim nearly falls asleep against the door of the Batmobile on their way back to the Cave. This last month has taken a toll on him. No, this last year has taken a toll on him, what with the whole Bruce-died-but-he-was-actually-stuck-in-time thing. In the meantime, Tim has lost a spleen, what little mental health he had left, a brother, and a home. All of that to bring back a dad Tim has done his best to avoid ever since the whole ordeal came to an end two months ago when Bruce finally came back to Gotham. 

Tim’s body feels full of lead as he drags it out of the Batmobile and toward the debrief table. Beside him, Jason and Damian are half bantering, half trying to dismember each other. Dick sends Tim a tentative smile as they settle opposite each other around the table, and Tim pretends not to see him. He cannot deal with this tonight. 

“What are the updates on the drug ring, Tim?” asks Bruce to start the debriefing. 

Tim winces. “They got away. They were far more numerous and prepared than I had anticipated. I think they allied with one of Gotham’s bigger villains, but I haven’t figured out which yet.” 

Damian tuts. “Of course, the Pretender failed. You should have let me take this mission, Father, I would have done better.”

“It’s not about doing better, Damian. Clearly, we didn’t have all the information we needed. That’s alright, Tim couldn’t have known.” But Damian’s words hurt nonetheless. Tim single-handedly found Bruce and survived Ra’s evil schemes and his weird obsession with Tim, yet it isn’t enough to prove himself to the brat. Dick says Damian just needs time, that he needs to realize Tim isn’t threatening his position. But Tim is tired of giving everyone time and second chances, especially to the brat who took his mantle and tried to kill him multiple times before that. 

“Did they all get away?” asks Bruce. His face is impassible, betraying no emotion, but Tim can easily imagine the disappointment and reproaches he doubtlessly wishes to throw at Tim. ‘Did they all get away, or are you somewhat useful?’

“No,” answers Tim. “I handed about fifteen goons to the police, but those I interrogated didn’t know much. Gordon will send me any information he manages to get.” Bruce nods, and Tim swallows around the growing lump in his throat. 

Debriefing continues, a litany of off-handed comments directed at Tim. He doesn’t know if it’s just him, if he’s overthinking it, if he’s reading between lines when there is actually nothing vicious about his family’s words. Anyhow, Tim’s chest grows tighter and tighter with suppressed sobs fighting to get out. He keeps blinking back tears as discreetly as he can. No one notices anything. 

Finally, the debrief comes to an end, and Tim hastily heads toward the showers. He nearly bursts into tears under the spray of the shower but clasps a hand against his mouth at the last second when he remembers the rest of his family are in the stalls next to him. He isn’t sure they would hear him over their loud bickering, but he would rather not take the risk. He stifles the pain inside him as well as he can and hurries through the rest of his shower. 

His fingers shake as he grabs his clothes, and he barely manages to put them on. His entire chest quivers from suppressed sobs, the ache so deep it seems physical rather than emotional. He wishes it were only physical pain. This way, he could hope to heal, he could just go to Alfred and explain his predicament. But it is an all-too-emotional pain, and nothing will solve it. 

Tim makes his way to his room a hand pressed against his mouth and his eyes brimming with tears. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot put his mask back on. He keeps his feet silent and quick and checks there is no one before rounding corners. He can’t risk being caught, can’t risk having to explain himself. It would make matters worse, that much he is certain of. He sees enough of Dick’s sad face already, hears enough of Damian’s derisive snorts. 

The door of his bedroom slams shut behind him, and Tim collapses. He crumples to the floor, curled in on himself, his mouth distorted in the horrible grimace of sobs. Tears run from his eyes onto his cheeks, a dam opened and never to be closed again. They pool at his chin and soak the hem of his shirt. Painful sobs claw their way out of his chest, his muscles trembling under the effort of keeping them quiet. Crying out loud terrifies him, but silent sobs are so very painful. They feel like being torn apart, like he is imploding on himself. Like he is letting out his pain without truly letting it out. Like voicing it is the only way to free himself from it, and by keeping it silent, he only makes it harder on himself. 

Someone knocks on Tim’s door. He freezes, eyes wide, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He wills himself not to make a sound as he clumsily tries to dry his tears and stop his sobs.

“Tim?” comes Dick’s voice through the wooden door. “We’re gonna have a movie night, buddy. It would be great if you could come.”

Tim doesn’t answer immediately. The last thing he wants right now is to have a movie night with his family. To repress his emotions again and act like everything is fine when it really isn’t the case. But what excuse can he give? If he says he has work, Dick will forcibly drag him to the movie room. If he says he is tired, everyone will know something is up with him because he rarely goes to sleep willingly. 

“Tim?” asks Dick again, worry tainting his voice. 

“Sure,” answers Tim, trying his best to hide the quivers in his voice. “I’ll be down in five.”

The answer must satisfy Dick because his steps fade down the corridor. Tim gets up on shaky legs and walks to his bathroom. His face is red, and his eyes slightly bloodshot, but he can easily blame it on exhaustion. He splatters his face with cold water, inhales deeply a few times, and pushes down his pain as far down as he can. His composure comes back, distressingly flawless. Nobody will know. Tim doesn’t know if he is glad or not. 

Everyone is already in the movie room by the time he arrives, piled up on the couch. Somehow, Dick managed to drag both Jason and Damian on the cuddle pile without getting himself stabbed. Bruce looks fondly at all three of them and motions to Tim to join him on the end of the couch. Tim’s step falters for a split second, but he corrects it and pasts a fake smile on his face before Bruce can notice his reluctance.

Tim sits down in between Bruce and Damian and braces for any mean comments directed at him. None come. Instead, everyone’s attention turns to the screen as the movie starts. The Lady and the Tramp. It must have been one of Damian’s picks. Or one of Dick’s picks, made on Damian’s behalf since the brat would never admit to liking Disney movies, even if they are centered around animals. 

Tim tries to settle and relax, to forget his episode from earlier. But his brothers bicker good-heartedly with one another, their quips easy and light, and the pressure in Tim’s chest comes back. His composure proves to not be as flawless as he thought, and cracks run through his mask. Tim hugs his knees to himself, focusing on the movie instead of his brothers or his hurt but his attention inevitably comes back to these two and their relation to one another, the movie completely forgotten. 

A solitary tear rolls down his cheek. Tim ignores it. No one has noticed yet, but if he wipes it away, he is certain he will draw all the attention to it. But that solitary tear is soon not solitary anymore, and the dam reopens. He is entirely silent, his tears thankfully unaccompanied by sobs. He dreads the moment the movie will come to an end and everyone will see him, or the moment someone’s attention will turn to him. He knows he cannot avoid it. The outcome is unavoidable. He should just have gone back to his apartment for the night, should have braved his exhaustion, and made the trip all the way there. It would have been worth the effort, if only to avoid the utter disaster this night is becoming. 

It is Damian who notices. Damian, of all people. Tim thinks the universe does not like him very much. Damian’s tiny head turns toward Tim, and Tim knows he has seen the second his eyebrows pull together in a frown. 

“Why are you crying, Drake?” he asks, voice snippy and dripping with disdain. Underneath it all, Tim imagines the tiniest note of worry. “This is hardly a movie to cry about.” 

Tim’s family turns to him all at once, and a sob breaks past the barrier of Tim’s throat. His hand flies to his mouth to seal it shut, but it is already too late. He presses himself against the couch, willing it to swallow him whole and never spit him back out. His wish is not granted. 

“Tim,” says Bruce gently, “what’s wrong?” Tim sobs harder in response. He hasn’t cried so badly in years. He hasn’t been unable to stop in an equally long time.

Bruce’s hand cards tentatively through his hair. In the background, someone stops the movie, and Damian does not complain. 

“I’m sorry,” Tim chokes out. 

“I’m certain you’ve got nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart,” replies Bruce. “What is wrong?”

Tim shakes his head and lets himself be pulled into the comfort of his dad’s arms. The cuddle pile rearranges itself around the two of them and later, when Tim finally explains with trembling words what made him cry, his brothers and father hug him tighter. Unlike what he had feared, his family is nothing but understanding.

@febuwhump

[brandnewhuman]

First of all, just found your blog. Legit the definition of perfection 🥰 *Chef's kiss*

Also can I request Jason, Thomas and Vincent with their s/o accidentally seducing them? Like, oh wearing a soft pink nightgown with cutesy bows, not knowing that'syour slashy bois weakness? Them's be horny Oops.

Please and thank you!!

Ps. Don't feel like you have to do this if you don't want to! I just really like your writing!

SEDUCING THE

SLASHY BABES

☆STARRING☆

Vincent Sinclair ☆ aka pretty wax man

Thomas Hewitt ☆ aka scary chonky babe

Jason Voorhees ☆ big forest daddy

CONTENT:

Tw: where do I even fucking start. Mature language, NSFW, tiniest amount of smut, canon violence, mentions of murder, maybe blood? Size kink?

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR REQUESTS AND FOR ALL THE NICE WORDS OMG. Now, I have to excuse myself for taking so long for this requests but once again I've been very busy with my upcoming trip and all the planning ecc so that's why it's taking me so long with everything. That and the fact that my brain is fighting for his life everytime I have to write something using a somewhat decent grammar and simultaneously put some creativity in it. That being said, I hope you little horny gremlin enjoy this

VINCENT SINCLAIR:

The things we make this man go through. Mate is fighting for his life out here

It has been a couple of days that Vincent had been so busy he only stopped working when he was literally too tired 

You, besides being worried out of your mind, were bored too. 

You couldn't really force Vincent into rest cause there has been a unusual amount of visitors lately and you knew that bodies tend to rot quickly during this time of the year so deep down you understood that Vincent had to work faster and harder than usual

And that means not being able to spend time together, which was torture for the both of you. 

Since you didn't had anything else to do you decided to clean your room and organise your stuff

While putting away clothes ecc you found one of your favourites nightgowns 

It was the most beautiful piece of clothing you had. 

The silky material was ornate with details in lace and it fitted perfectly, wrapping your body tight enough to outline all your forms. The colour made stand up your soft skin

When you were done cleaning you decided to take a warm bath and pamper yourself a little bit using every little thing you had for skincare. Once you were out the bathroom your skin was glowing, your gorgeous nightgown was making you look prettier than ever and your sweet scent trailed after you as you made your way towards Vinny's workshop

"Vinny dear?? Are you there??" Your scent was filling the air around him, pulling his mind out of what he was doing. 

At soon as he saw you he could've sworn you looked like an angel

Now why would you that to this POOR MAN

he kept staring at you while the feeling of his head getting lightheaded started to make a blur out of his thoughts 

He's fighting for his spot in heaven right here

"Vincent?? Are you okay??" Your voice was so smooth and the way you cupped his masked cheeks while looking at him with such an intense stare YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING DIDN'T YOU? YOU AND YOUR USUAL FOUL BEHAVIOUR ARE GOING TO KILL HIM ONE DAY

he was literally frozen in place. He could feel a familiar warm sensation burning in his chest as he looked at you but it seemed like his limbs didn't want to collaborate with his mind 

Every single thought was plague by you and your image making impossible to even think straight 

And to be honest only a small part of his thoughts could be considered decent 

You, however, apparently oblivious about the effect you were having on him, just gifted one of your sweetest smiles 

"Why don't you take a break baby?? You must be tired…besides you're almost done. A little rest won't do bad to anyone, am I right?" You kept caressing softly and gently his chest up and down, tilting your head slightly and looking right at him in the eyes

He felt his breath shortened and all he could muster as an answer was a shy nod. 

He literally felt he could melt in your hands at any given moment 

Got bruv here thirsting over you without even trying WHAT SORT OF WITCHERY IS THIS

you breathed out a small giggling at how he was reacting. You genuinely were not doing anything on purpose 

You took him by the hand, intertwining your fingers with his and pulling him towards the small bed that he had there

Once you were in front of it you turned to face him and slowly with your free hand you took off his mask 

"You must be so tired…my poor love, now I'll take care of it" 

That tone of voice, your fingers brushing against the skin of his face? Damn…double homicide right there 

Before you could pull your hand away he gently grasped your wrist 

YOU KNOW THAT THING OSCAR ISAAC DID TO JESSICA CHASTAIN? LIKE WHEN HE KISSED HER ARM? WELL PICTURE THAT BUT IT'S VINCENT LITERALLY KISSING THE INSIDE OF YOUR WRIST

now you were the one shivering in your fucking timbers

His other hand freed herself from yours to find her home on the small of your back, pulling you closer

There was so much tension that you felt dizzy but in a good way, to keep balance you placed your hands on his chest and tried to think about something to say before catching fire spontaneously 

"I…today was kinda hot, I thought that this would've been more appropriate to…wear" you practically breathed out the sentence 

Appropriate? APPROPRIATE? 

Your eyes darted from his mouth to his eyes, you two were so close you could feel the growing bulge in his pants hitting against you making your insides and your intimate parts twitch of pleasure and anticipation 

He now placed both hands on your sides and his thumbs traced circles feeling the smooth and soft material underneath, taking few steps forward making you go backwards until the back of your knees hitted the bed making you lose balance and fall on your back onto the soft surface 

I can assure you that both of you are now having small horny brain thoughts 

You looked up at him, adjusting your position slightly. Your hands fidgeting with the hem of the gown as you teased him by painfully slowly lifting up enough to show a peak of your underwear

Hid calloused hands found place on top of your knees just to part your legs gently to position his frame between them 

You immediately pulled yourself straight up again without breaking eye contact. 

"If you want that…you have to earn it. After all you have been hiding here for weeks…you have to make up for it dear" 

How could he resist when your velvet voice was so intoxicating and your gaze so compelling 

He tried to hide the smirk that tugged on the corners of his mouth while he quickly started to tie his hair up. 

Mate didn't even had took in consideration saying no

BESTIE CONGRATULATIONS YOU GOT EATEN OUT BY VINCENT SINCLAIR FUCK YEAH LETS GOOOOO

Just LISTEN OKAY imagine those hands gripping your thighs while he's working his magic down there and when you manage to keep your eyes from rolling to back of your brain long enough to look at him he's eyes meet yours and he has that LUSTFUL TYPE OF GAZE BRO I- 

If this man ever starts to tie his hair to eat me out i would fold like a fucking papersheet 

Once you both will be done, while you're sleeping he's definitely going to draw you in that nightgown cause he wants to burned into his brain how fucking beautiful you look right now 

THOMAS HEWITT:

To be fair you always wear nightgowns cause the texas heat is some serious matter

Every nightgowns you wear however is very simple and nothing special

This one you're wearing tonight however? It's the nicest and prettiest one you have. It hugs your body so perfectly that it would be a crime to not wear it

So after you chose to disturb Thomas's inner peace by wearing that you waited for him to get in bed

You were brushing your hair, sitting in front of the vanity mirror when you noticed Thomas getting in

"Oh hi Tommy!! Are you ready for bed??" You turned and you could say you turned something else too OKAY NO STOP ENOUGH I SWEAR

Thomas was exhausted by a whole day of chasing victims and chopping them. All he wanted was to clean up, get ready for bed and crush right next to you while holding you close

This MAN PURE INTENTIONS ARE BEING MINED BY YOUR SEDUCTIVE FOUL CLOTHES 

He found somehow enough concentration to tilt his head as if asking why were you wearing that

"Oh! The other ones need to be washed and I thought this would do at least for tonight. You don't like it, don't you?" You fidget with your fingers anxiously. You genuinely thought he was upset by it cause it's definitely one of your less modest gowns 

Never has he been this fast in answering something. My man was moving at speed of light to reach you and tell you he did in fact like it

And then you had to get up and cause the biggest brain lag in history 

His hands were moving on their own as his fingers gently tugged on the soft material to feel it. He couldn't even explain why this nightgown in particular was so mesmerising. 

Maybe it was the combination of your intoxicating scent, how soft and perfect it make look your skin or maybe it was just that his never ending love for you had an equal amount of sinful lust to contrast with it

You just watched him smiling in relief of knowing he did like it.

Now that you took a good look at him you noticed how tired he looks 

"Tommy we should head to bed…you look tired" you brought his hands to your cheeks as you looked at him in the eyes 

You're right about the head but not to be- IM SORRY I PROMISE I'LL STOP 

Every trace of tiredness was now long forgotten, his brain was occupied with very explicit thoughts about either ripping apart your nightgown or keep it for recreational purposes if you know what I mean 

His hands moved a strand of hair  out of your face before gripping your sides to lift you up, carrying you on his shoulder as he headed towards the bed

You let out a gasp of surprise. You didn't have the time to steady yourself until you had already been placed on the bed. He was caging you under him, both arms at each side of your head and both knees at your sides 

His broad shoulders were all you could see as you looked up blushing brutally 

You could almost see the shade of smirk spreading on his face under the mask

"Hey wait, you have to sleep! We can do all of this lat" 

No, NO WE CAN'T Y/N. NOW OR NEVER

So basically he just shuts your mouth by kissing you, the roughness of the mask edges in contrast with his tenderness made your whole body fill with butterflies

Your hands moved immediately finding place in Tommy's surprisingly soft hair

He forced himself to break the kiss to catch breath, his whole  frame straightened up towering over you as he sat on his knees

You groan in disapproval trying to pull him back but immediately stopped when you saw what he was doing

There was a moment of hesitation as his shaky hands went to the back of his head to unlock the mask 

He just felt his face would ruin the whole mood. You looked so beautiful and he was just well 

You didn't waste a minute as swiftly pulled yourself up and helped him in getting the mask off. There's nothing you more love than when he allows to see his face 

As soon as the mask was off he was already regretting everything and all the confidence he had a minute ago was gone as he started to back away and avoid your eyes

PLEASE GIVE HIM A SMOOCH OR SOMETHING OR I WILL CRY WITH HIM

After you give him all the reassurance and nice words he needs and deserves he would feel so much better 

In fact he feels that much better he is horny again

LEAVE MY MAN ALONE. HE HAS NEVER THE OPPORTUNITY TO BE THIS HORNY ON MAIN

just picture this: the feeling of those big and rough hands touching and feeling every part of your soft body while he's basically bruising your fucking lungs from the inside by how deep and hard he thrust BUT IT'S NOT LIKE SUPER FAST CAUSE HE KNOWS YOU LIKED IT SLOW AND YOU MAY NEED MORE TIME AND ATTENTION THAN HE DOES

AND ALL OF THIS WHILE KISSING YOU SO YOU BOTH CAN'T MAKE NOISES AND WAKE THE WHOLE HOUSE UP

you'll duckwalk for a week at least and everytime someone asks you if you're okay in front of Tommy both of you SINFUL FUCKERS CAN'T STOP SMILING 

You may or may not want to wear that nightgown more often. It depends on how many times you want Thomas to rearrange your insides 

JASON VOORHEES:

Were you another person, this unholy stuff? Death sentence right there. 

But since we're here living our best life as the main character you're the one being the menace here

Why would you wear that IN HIS CHRISTIAN HOUSEHOLD 

You tried to wait on the couch until he came back but you ended up falling asleep. 

Fate wants that you also decided to wear one of your most scrumdiddlyumptious nightgowns. 

You wanted to wear something nice that could make you feel better since lately your self esteem has been acting up 

Who would've thought the slasher of simps and sinful teens, the one who thinks about the "I WANT A CHURCH GIRL THAT GOES TO CHURCH" vine unironically would have big horny brain thoughts 

He knew you were on the couch cause the lamp near it was on. He approached you quietly assuming you were sleeping and not wanting to wake you up

What he saw..oh lawd have mercy 

Your upper body was facing towards the ceiling while your knees were pointing to the right as your waist was partially turned on the side. Your hands were gently resting on your stomach, going up and down as you slowly breathed. 

You looked ethereal as the dim warm light of the lamp casted shadows over your perfect and peaceful features 

Everything standed out because of that beautiful nightgown that was dangerously short and see-through 

Babe got his mind fighting for its life against the hornyness.

He was mesmerised by the sight in front of him, part of him feeling ashamed for the course some of his thoughts were taking. The other half was in heavenly hell

When I tell you he's about to fucking cry 

As he goes closer to you he can sense his spot in heaven being revoked. 

Very lightly and softly his fingertips brush against the silky fabric of the nightgown, not resisting the urge to touch it. 

He pulls back his hand immediately almost as if he just got burned

It was probably god giving him a head boink for being horny

He holds his hand to his chest as he breathes heavily trying to steady his racing heart as he eyed your whole sleeping form

You must've sense something I your sleep cause you stirred a little bit before waking up and smiling at him with your gaze still sleepy

You didn't even asked him what he was doing or why he was kneeling, you just reached a hand out for him to hold while you shifted on the couch to make space for him

He knew that if he got to you any closer than this he would either die or fall for his foul thoughts so instead he just shared his head and standed up gesturing to his dirty clothes so you could know he was going to clean up first

"Okay…don't take too long though" that's all you said before getting up. You stretched making the hem of the nightgown go a little bit more up than it already was

Before heading towards the bedroom you got on your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his masked cheek leaving Jason in a state of dizziness 

He noticed he was holding his breath when as soon as you were gone He exhaled in relief 

Bro was this close of having a stroke with all of this sinful fuckery 

He thanked God you didn't notice either the awkward boner CAUSE LORD IF YOU DID HE WOULD'VE JUST REMOVED HIMSELF FROM EARTH 

Even if he didn't enjoyed this one bit and the whole time he felt the shame of what he was doing hanging from his head, he had to take care of himself before going to sleep next to you 

However the shame and the guilt was forgotten when his mind lingered on the images of you and your nightgown 

Admittedly that would be something he would think about for a long time. Or at least until he manages to get the courage to do more intimate stuff with you

Plenty of prayers were said that night before bed

[starsofmilos]

Don’t touch them Pt 2 (Adrian Chase x reader)

Synopsis: This is a part two to Don’t touch them go ahead and click there to go read part one!

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, mentions of past abuse, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of sex, angst, fluff, cursing, (no harm to minors) 

You’d been depressed and it was becoming hard to hide it. You did your best for Scarlet, but when Adrian left he took a part of you with him. 

You weren’t the only one trying to hide something though. Scarlet had been as well. She missed her dad badly.

Adrian had been just as miserable. He took any of his free time to check up on you both happy to see Scarlet alive and well. He missed you more than words can say. 

Since Scarlet knew her dad, she knew he did what he thought was best even if it made her sad so she did what she thought was best to keep Adrian updated. 

She had remembered Peacemakers trailer address and took the time to send letters every week hoping he would pass them to Adrian.

As much as it annoyed him (not really), he did it. Chris found it a bit sad that Adrian had to leave the only family he’s ever known so he made sure every single note got to Adrian.

Adrian would try to hide his excitement when a note came in, but anyone could see just how happy he was to hear from Scarlet.

“I don’t see why you continue with these stupid letters.” Chris scoffed a bit. Adrian grinned under his mask opening his latest one. 

“She just wants me to know what’s going on.” He removed his mask pulling his glasses on. “I appreciate her doing so..I know these won’t be forever so I’ll take what I can get.”

Chris hummed, “It’s kinda funny considering she’s not your actual kid-”

“Scarlet is my kid. Even if I’m not her biological dad. She is my kid. I don’t give a fuck what anyone has to say about it. I would give up my life for hers in a second. It’s why I left. Sure she’s sad, but she’s safe and so is Y/N...” 

Chris looked at Adrian in shock as he grabbed his helmet deciding on heading home. 

“I’ll see you soon. Gonna go put this one with the rest.”

Adrian had kept every single one of her letters at his home in a drawer. They were his treasure as he called it. Inside of it were drawings from Scarlet along with pictures of you.

He didn’t know that would be the last letter he got for a bit. Something had happened. One of your worst fears.

Scarlet’s biological father had found you. You hadn’t known he had. It had started after Scarlet had sent off her letter. She had to wait when you would begin to cook in order to sneak the letter into the mail box.

She didn’t notice the man down the street watching her. You hummed a small tune as you minced carrots to hide in her mac and cheese stopping once you heard the door close.

“Did you just come back from outside?” 

“Yes?”

“That sounded like a question.” You turned to her as she nervously smiled locking the door. 

“I just wanted some fresh air mom. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, but you know the rules.”

“I know I know. Ask you to come outside with me.” You nodded giving her a smile.

“I just do it for your safety. You’re not in trouble but the next time you do this I will have to ground you.”

“Okay mom sorry again.” You shook your head.

“You’re okay now go wash up.”

“Wait why are you cutting carrots?!”

“Go.” You laughed pushing her to the restroom. A knock on the door made you freeze once more. Drying your hands, you jumped confused when another knock came.

You ended up wishing you had ignored it.

“Hey.” You froze seeing a face you thought you’d never see well more like hoped you’d never see again.

“Wyatt...”

“Hey Y/N did you miss me? I sure missed you..I saw her outside right now she’s got your eyes..” You shut the door in his face locking the door tightly.

He sighed knocking again as you shook a bit. 

“Mom?”

“Go to your room and hide.”

“But-”

“Now.”

She nodded seeing that fearful look on your face once again. The last time she had seen that look in your eyes it was when Silas had came to try to kill you. 

He banged loudly on the door calling out for you. “She’s my kid Y/N-”

“No she is not!” You groaned as he pushed the door open. 

“Ahh there we go.”

You stood up standing your ground. “Get the hell out of my home.”

“Oh c’mon. Look I know why you left. I hurt you-”

“You nearly killed me.” You gritted out as he rolled his eyes. 

“It wasn’t as bad always the drama queen.” You shook feeling vulnerable before shaking it off. You weren’t giving him the satisfaction. 

“What do you want?

“To come home. Obviously this would be our new home, but I want to be a father and your lover. We had some good times didn’t we-”

“No. Fuck no. We didn’t have good times and you are not staying here.”

“I wasn’t giving you a choice I can be nice about this or I can teach you another lesson-”

“Fuck you. I wasn’t giving you a choice either.” He laughed before pulling out a box of cigarettes.

“Come on I know you want one you used to stress smoke all the time.”

“Because of you! Get the fuck out!” 

“No she’s my kid-”

“Are you sure about that?” He glared at you standing up.

“What?”

“You heard me. How do you know she is your kid? You treated me like crap. I found out I was pregnant after I left. And man I made sure to find other people to get you out of my fucking system.”

You shrieked as he slapped you. “You fucking-”

“Y/N is everything alright.” You looked seeing your neighbor peeking in the door. You nodded holding your cheek.

“Yes he was leaving. And he’s never returning.” Wyatt scoffed before walking out.

“You will pay for this.” You flinched as he walked out. Your neighbor nodded at you before taking off. You shut the door locking it completely running to the kitchen to ice your cheek.

“Scarlet..” You dropped what you were doing running to her room. She came out gasping as she saw your cheek. 

“Was it another bad man?” You nodded trying to keep your tears at bay.

“Yes but he’s gone. Not for long though so I need you to be careful for a bit okay. I will pick you up from school but don’t go with any strangers-”

“Shouldn’t we call dad?” You stopped shaking your head.

“He can’t help us with this honey..I know you miss him..I do too..but he left for our safety..”

“But he promised to keep us safe..If this is another bad man shouldn’t he know?” You nodded.

“I’ll reach out to him.” She nodded before going with you to place ice on your cheek. 

The next day you anxiously kept glancing at your phone. Should you call Adrian? Would he want to know about this? It had been a while...

Would he even care?

You groaned before noticing the time. Scarlet was getting out of school soon. You grabbed your keys you’d call him later. You stopped by the mail box growing in confusion seeing a letter addressed to Peacemaker.

Your heart broke a bit reading the letter. She was updating Adrian on you both and you didn’t even know. 

You’d call him later. Maybe he would care. Was he keeping these notes?

Was he even reading them? You sighed adjusting your sunglasses hoping to hide your bruises. After waiting outside the school for a bit, you grew worried walking to the office to find her.

“I’m here to pick up Scarlet?” You asked the ladies at the office. They gave you a small confused look.

“She was picked up earlier today.” Your blood ran cold.

“No she was being picked up by me. I said if anyone is picking her up it will only be me. So where is she?!”

“He said he knew you and that she was his daughter! She agreed to go with him-”

“No no no no how stupid can you be?!” You yelled at her before taking off. You grabbed the letter that had been addressed to Peacemakers address. Stomping on the gas.

Adrian sighed as Peacemaker handed him a beer. “You upset to have no letter?”

“Maybe it’s late.”

“Nope usually she isn’t. Dude I think she didn’t send you one this time.” Adrian sighed once more groaning a bit when a girl came out sitting on Chris’s lap. 

“You fellas up for some fun?”

“No I’m good you guys have fun though okay. I’m gonna head home if something comes in-”

“I’ll call you.” Adrian nodded before jumping as banging came outside the door. 

“Peacemaker!” His breath hitched hearing your voice. “Come on! I know you’re home! I know Scarlet has been sending letters here! I just found out today! I need to speak to Vigilante!”

You sounded distraught. “I need help. Okay? I know he probably doesn’t wanna see me and that’s fine! I..He promised to protect her! She looks up to him and he promised to protect her so I need him please!!” 

Adrian stood in shock hearing your voice crack. “He made a promise to her and someone took her! This person will hurt her and she needs him!! I need him..so please..I promise to never bother him again! Just please call him for me..”

You cried out desperate. Chris shoved Adrian to the door. “Go to her don’t be fucking stupid.”

Adrian broke out of his shocked state swinging the door open. You looked in shock seeing him standing before you. You wiped your tears handing him the letter.

“I found it this morning..” Adrian moved to you grabbing your face. You let him inspect your bruise.

“Who did this?” You sniffled a bit finally feeling somewhat comfort.

“I need your help..”

“Who did this?..and where is Scarlet?..” 

“He took her Adrian..He took her please get her back..” Adrian clenched his teeth feeling anger course through him.

“He got angry..He took Scarlet..I know you wanted to stay away but we were always in danger even when we weren’t with you. I hoped he’d never come back but he did and he took her.” You gripped him tightly. 

“Please Adrian..I know you left to protect us and you did what you thought was best but I’m begging you. You don’t have to come back after and we will never bother you again but please kill this son of a bitch and save her!” 

Adrian removed his helmet dropping it to the ground grasping your face nodding. “I always said I’d do whatever you ever asked of me..” 

“I’ll save our kid and bring her home and killing him is something you don’t even have to ask of me.” You sniffled pulling away from him.

“I am though. Adrian I want him dead.” Adrian lips twitched a bit in a smile seeing a determined look in your eyes. He grabbed your hand 

“Come on let’s go.” Chris came out behind you both messily throwing his shoe on.

“I already called Harcourt and the team they said for us to meet them at the record shop so we could come up with a plan.” Adrian nodded opening the door for the front seat for you.

“Wait why does she get to sit in the front?” Chris called out as you glanced back. 

“She’s the mother of my kid she gets front.”

“But I can’t fit in the back!” They bickered as you groaned slamming the back door open climbing in. 

“Can we go?!”

“Y/N get in the front-”

“No! Stop bickering and get in the car!” Chris felt a bit bad hearing how angry you got.

“Sorry..” They both mumbled getting in the car.

“Drive.” You bit out buckling up. “And you!”

Chris jumped hearing you, “Put your god damn seatbelt on.”

“I don’t need it though-”

“I will take that stupid helmet of yours and break your balls if you don’t put your god damn seatbelt on!” He nodded quickly as Adrian started the car. 

Scarlet had been sitting in a crappy hotel room doing her homework trying to ignore the man who had forced her to go with him.

“That’s good you’re working hard. It’s a good thing to be smart.” She hummed at him.

“Thank you...Can I ask why I’m here though? Why did you force me here-”

“I didn’t force you here. I brought you here. You’re my kid. Don’t worry too much. Your mom will be here soon and we could go back to being a family.” 

Scarlet put her books away shaking a bit. “You’re not my dad.”

“What?” He turned to her holding a plate.

“I don’t know the whole story, but I know you’re not a good person. My dad is a good man and he won’t appreciate the fact that you hurt my mom or that you forced me to come with you.”

Wyatt laughed throwing the plate of food at the wall. “You little brat.” Scarlet stood up gripping her pen tightly. He approached her angrily yelling out as she stabbed his leg before running to the restroom locking the door.

“Open this door! Right now!” Scarlet shook a bit hiding in the bathtub.

“When my dad comes you better hope he shows you mercy!”

“I am your real dad-”

“No you’re not!” 

You sighed in frustration glancing at your phone waiting for Wyatt to answer. The team sat around you anxiously. Emilia sighed. 

You all jumped once he answered. 

“What?!”

“Wyatt..”

“Oh look who finally decided to call. I’m assuming you had to go to your stupid boyfriend?!” 

“Where is she?”

“Oh you mean my daughter?”

“My kid yes where is she?” 

“She’s our kid and if we’re asking questions who the fuck is her supposed father?”

“What?” You asked confused.

“She stabbed with me a pen yelling about how her real father would come for her. Little shit locked herself in the restroom after. DOESN’T WANNA COME OUT!” He hit the door angrily.

“Just like her mom doesn’t wanna accept her punishment for saying dumb things. Guess that’s what makes her like you. You remember every time you decided to open your stupid mouth-”

“If you so much as lay a single hair on her head-”

“You’ll what? Fight me? I know whoever she’s talking about doesn’t even exist! And if he did he saw how pathetic you were Y/N. So fucking useless. Your daughter was taken and you had to call someone who doesn’t even want you around anymore. That’s probably why he’s not around.”

Adrian grabbed your phone away from you walking away from it. 

“Listen here you piece of shit. You better fucking hope when I find you that my kid is fucking safe.”

“Ahh so you’re the new boyfriend-”

“I am and Scarlet is my kid. She may have your genes, but she is my fucking kid and I made a promise to protect her and Y/N from everything and you hurt her. You will fucking pay for this. I will make sure you fucking pay for every tear and blood drop you ever made Y/N have.”

Adrian growled out before hanging up. “Did you get it?” 

John nodded, “You kept him on the phone long enough. I have their location.”

Emilia tapped Adrian’s shoulder pointing at you. You sat silently on Adrian’s couch. You all had met up at his place instead. 

“He was right..I-I am a bit useless..I always have been..I couldn’t keep her safe from him..and I couldn’t even keep myself safe..” The others shared a look with Adrian walking out to give you both a moment.

He sighed walking to you. Adrian hesitated for a moment before giving in.

“I never really..I never really stopped watching over you both.” Adrian murmured out as he sat next to you. You gave him a confused look.

“I kept every letter Scarlet gave me and always made sure you got home safely. I care about you both..I didn’t leave because you were useless and you did your best to keep her safe..I will take care of everything okay?..”

You sighed as Adrian grabbed your hands. “I mean it..everything that has happened Y/N has been my fault. I left to protect you both, but because I left I wasn’t there to protect you both..”

Adrian pulled you tightly to him holding you tightly. 

“I’m sorry..I put us all through so much pain. I know you never wanted me to leave..I shouldn’t have..I love you. I’ve missed you more than I can say. Scarlet and you..”

“I’ve missed you too..I’m sorry if I drove you away-”

“You didn’t..You never did Y/N..” 

“I love you..”

“I love you too..Now I’m gonna go save her and kill this bastard.” 

“Okay let’s go.” Adrian grabbed you pushing you back on the couch.

“You’re staying here.”

“Uh no I am not.”

“Y/N-”

“Scarlet is gonna need me while you deal with him.”

“I’m not risking you getting hurt.”

“Unless you forgot I am her mom. I deserve to be with her so I am going whether you want me too or not.”

“I just want you safe Y/N..” You smiled pulling him down to kiss him lightly.

Adrian’s eyes widened a bit as you pulled away to walk out. Emilia got the van ready with everyone else as you all climbed in. 

“We have to be cautious there’s a kid involved.” Chris nodded agreeing with Emilia.

“Vig and I will handle him you guys just focus on getting her and her kid out of here.” Adrian nodded.

“I want Scarlet and her far away from this son of a bitch.” 

“I’ll get Scarlet to come out of the restroom. He said she hid herself. She’ll only come out unless me or Adrian say it’s okay for her to come out.” 

Adrian nodded, “Harcourt you guys got her back?”

“Yeah we’ll get the kid you focus on him.” Adrian nodded loading his guns before nodding at you gently. 

Once making it to the hotel room, Adrian hummed a small tune as he stepped out. “Wait!” Emilia pulled him back.

“I have a plan. You’re not gonna like this.”

“What?”

“I think Y/N should go by herself to the door first.”

“Fuck no.”

“Chase-”

“No. No. She is not doing that.” Adebayo sighed before speaking up.

“I agree with Harcourt.”

“What?!” Chris and Adrian both yelled out. John stood quiet as you sighed putting your hand on Adrian’s shoulder.

“If he sees all of us and we ambush him what if he hurts Scarlet..I think they’re right. I don’t wanna risk any chance of Scarlet getting hurt we have to play this smart.”

Adrian grumbled as you gave him a smile, “I know you’re right outside. I trust you to protect me..I know you won’t let him hurt us.”

You walked to the door taking a small breath glancing to see Adrian and Peacemaker running around the building as Emilia trailed behind them. Adebayo and John waited in the van. 

You knocked on the door trying to stay calm once it slammed open. 

“Well look who finally decided to come. Mother of the stupid fucking brat.” You clenched your fist ignoring him as you walked in.

“I don’t see your little boyfriend anywhere! The one that brat has the nerve to say is her real father even though I am!!” 

“He couldn’t make it.”

“Wow..That is just hilarious. All that big talk from a stupid man..” You walked to the restroom knocking on it softly.

“It’s gonna be okay Scar..I’m sorry I put you through this..Please forgive me..”

She knocked softly on the door three times. You smiled knowing that was her sign that Adrian was there.

He had crawled through the window handing her to Peacemaker to get her to the van.”Please help mom..” 

Adrian nodded patting her head. “I promise..”

Wyatt scoffed as you turned around stepping away from the door. “I’m taking her home.”

“No you’re not. You’re gonna explain to her how her mommy is a stupid whore and then you’re both gonna be fucking taught a lesson.”

“I will never be hurt by you again. Scarlet will never see you again and I swear to you that you really will pay for ever taking her. For ever laying a hand on her. You’re a asshole. I’m so fucking glad I left when I did!”

He stomped to you raising his hand to smack you down. It never came though. Adrian shoved him to the ground harshly before pulling his gun out to point in his face. 

“Go to Scarlet.”

You nodded wordlessly giving him a quick hug before running back to the van. 

“Scar!!”

“Mom!” You grasped her tightly checking her over. 

“You’re not hurt?”

“No I’m not. I’m okay mom..” You sighed in relief gripping her tightly again. 

Adrian had stared down at Wyatt laughing as he struggled to get up. “Oh come on now you can beat on defenseless women but not someone twice your size?”

Wyatt spit at Adrian glaring at him, “I’m assuming you’re her new stupid boyfriend-”

“I am more than that. I’m Scarlet’s father.”

“No you’re not-”

“Yes I am.” Adrian punched him down again stomping on his arm once he fell to the floor breaking it.

“OWW FUCK! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Adrian laughed leaning down to wrap his hands around Wyatt’s neck choking him out.

“Shooting you would be too fucking easy you pathetic worthless piece of shit.”

Wyatt struggled to breath trying to scratch Adrian, but his armor protected him. Adrian grinned manically knowing the one who had caused you and Scarlet such pain was gonna die.

You had been sat on Adrian’s couch patiently waiting for him to get back. You had sat Scarlet in his bed putting her to sleep. The team had went back for Adrian and Chris once you were safely away.

Trying to stay awake, your eyes kept fluttering jumping once you felt something grab your leg.

“Is dad still not back yet?” You nodded at Scarlet letting her crawl into your lap. 

“He will be soon. You need some rest.”

“I left my backpack there.” You laughed a bit shaking your head. 

“You’re going on summer break soon anyways..one homework assignment not being turned in shouldn’t hurt besides I’m sure your dad will see and bring it.”

She nodded yawning a bit, “Can I miss school tomorrow?”

“Yeah..actually i think I’m gonna pull you out early. My girl needs some rest and a vacation.” She laughed as you tickled her both of you jumping when the door opened. 

“Oh hey..I didn’t think you’d both be up.” 

“I was waiting for you this one just came out of bed even after I tucked her in.” Adrian chuckled waving her backpack.

“You brought it!” Adrian nodded as she ran to him. He bent down pulling her into a hug.

“I missed you..” He mumbled into her hair. She nodded against him.

“I did too..please don’t go again..”

“I won’t..Never again..”

“Did you..Did you ever receive my letters?” Adrian nodded scoffing a bit.

“Are you kidding me? I kept every single one.”

“You did!!” You smiled as he nodded lifting his mask off picking her up. 

“Come on I’ll show you but then you’re going to bed.” You nodded following them smiling as you saw his drawer. Scarlet smiled widely hugging him tightly as he took her to his bedroom. 

He laid her down walking out with you afterwards. You sat him on the couch grabbing the first aid kit.

“Take your gloves off.”

“You could tell?..”

“I could always tell mom instincts.” Adrian laughed. 

“More like milf instincts to me.” You swatted him as he smiled. 

“So did you mean it?” Adrian looked at you in confusion as you put the bandages away.

“Mean what?”

“That you’re staying this time..Will you come home?...” Adrian couldn’t help but to grin seeing the nervous look in your face. 

“I left to protect you both, but when I left I wasn’t here to protect you. I swore he would never hurt you and I wasn’t here and you got hurt..and he took Scar..”

You nodded, “That wasn’t your fault though..I understood why you left. I wasn’t angry I just missed you more than I could admit..” 

“I missed you just as much. So fucking much Y/N..”

“Adrian..please don’t go..”

“I promise I’m not going anywhere this time..Anything you want I will do..I’d kill for you and tear apart anyone who tries to hurt either of you-”

You cut him off pulling him into a deep kiss. Adrain groaned gripping you closely. You panted a bit as he pulled you on his lap. 

Adrian moaned a bit kissing you anywhere he could reach. Your jaw, neck, chin, and forehead were all kissed by him. You pulled away kissing him again laughing as he threw you on the couch.

“You need to get your armor off..”

“If you’re trying to take me to bed, you can’t Scarlet is sleeping in there, but I am so down to go to the restroom-”

“You gotta get cleaned up..did you kill him by the way?” Adrian nodded without hesitation.

“You asked me too didn’t you?” You nodded kissing him once more.

“Good..Thank you..”

“You never have to thank me. I said I’d do anything for you. I meant it..Also about what you were saying at Peacemakers. I never said I didn’t want anything to do with you.”

“Well..It was hard for me not to think that-”

“I know, but I need you to know now nothing and I mean nothing will ever have me not wanting you. I want you. I will always fucking want you.”

You smiled as he kissed you grinning. “I’m gonna get changed. Go to bed.”

“Or I can get changed with you?” Adrian hauled you off the couch chasing you to the restroom. 

“God did I miss you.” He caught you kissing you once more. You smiled as he shut the door. Afterwards you both crawled into his bed moving Scarlet into the middle. 

“I’m happy to be home..”

“I am too..” You murmured out falling asleep. Adrian didn’t sleep though.

He stood up for another hour just watching you both. Happy to finally be back with you both. He swore he really would never leave again. 

[shingia]

✗ NIGHT ROUTINES THINGS ✗

no this wasn’t in my wips post. yes this is very impulsively written. and kinda self indulgent?

-> timeskip! akaashi, kuroo, semi, suga, iwaizumi

-> domestic fluff, all the good stuff (wait that rhymed) <33

-> cw : food mention

— AKAASHI

it’s him always being in charge of ironing your clothes because he genuinely likes it. it’s ordering food from onigiri miya at least three times a week. it’s drinking herbal teas on your balcony, wrapped in a blanket that keeps you warm while watching the stars.

it’s spending more time choosing a movie than actually watching it. and it’s him resting his head on your lap as you play with his hair. it’s scented candles on your bedside and a pair of glasses on his. and it’s falling asleep on his chest, lulled by his heartbeat and his voice as he reads the book of your choice.

— KUROO

it’s him immediately slumping down on the couch when he comes home, loosening his tie with a sigh but immediately forgetting about his troubles at work as soon as you greet him with a kiss. it’s nice dinners cooked together because he refuses to let you do all the work. it’s also him insisting on dancing with you in the kitchen ever since you made him watch la la land once... it’s usually to « a lovely night ».

it’s ranking your face masks based on very precise criteria. it’s him stealing your moisturizer because it smells so much better than his. but most of all, it’s falling asleep on the couch but always waking up in your bed, tucked under the covers.

— SEMI

it’s realizing that your fridge is empty at 8pm and going on grocery trips to buy whatever your stomach is craving right now. it’s plucking his eyebrows on the couch while he comes up with the stupidest songs ideas (his first single will be named « tonight’s spicy yakitori »). it’s laying on his back while exploring the depths of youtube, and him hitting your butt with his heels just because he loves getting on your nerves.

it’s being in charge of the playlist while the other is in the shower, usually around 1am. it’s taking off the other’s makeup if they’re too tired to do it. and it’s ending up falling asleep in his arms with youtube still playing in the background.

— SUGA

it’s helping him mark his student’s homework, but only after promising that you won’t tell anyone. it’s watching tv shows with the worst imdb ratings just to make fun of it together, but every once in a while watching a really good one that has you talking about the ending until way too late.

it’s hot chocolates in which he always puts too many marshmallows. it’s a satisfied grin on his face whenever you’re brushing his hair after his shower. it’s also lively conversations about conspiracy theories while brushing your teeth. and it’s him always hugging you to sleep, whether you‘ve had a good or a bad day.

— IWAIZUMI

it’s going for a run when the sun is starting to set. it’s writing movie names on tiny pieces of paper, folding them in half and putting them in a bowl to pick the one that you’ll watch tonight (and him writing godzilla three times). it’s massaging his shoulders until he starts to drift off, even though he promised he wouldn’t.

it’s him saying « tell me about your day » instead of « how was your day » because he doesn’t want a short answer. it’s spending hours planning your next holidays together even though neither of you feel like leaving the bed right now. it’s falling asleep with his arm around your waist, your minds filled with plans for the future.

taglist : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @miyumiya @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @kelsuuki @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @noir-blanches-blog @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @mimaki @maitenight @xomiya

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt.9

Summary: Darkling’s secrets are soon to be unveiled, just in time for a trip to the Fold.

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, implied sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven // Part eight  

=================================

The Darkling walked with a spring in his step. Residents of Little Palace have gotten used to his skulking in black keftas he wore like second skin. Never before had they seen him smile as much as he did on this particular day – as if he found the secret to happiness.

In truth, the Darkling refused to let himself hope for much. He simply hoped she’d allow him to kiss her now without receiving a death threat for it. It felt incredibly dangerous how foolishly addicted he is to his fickle wife. He never wanted anyone as much as he wanted her.

“General”, Fedyor joined him on his right, while Ivan silently took his left side. They both kept a reasonable distance from Kirigan, two steps behind at all times.

“What reason did you have to knock on my door this morning?” Kirigan’s voice is leveled, but his words are a death trap. There’s nothing more the general hates than his Grisha interrupting his private time – regardless if Y/N is with him or not. Unless there’s a burning issue at hand, he disliked being bothered unnecessarily.

“We’ve intercepted a few interesting stories you might like”, Ivan responds calmly, unafraid of his temperamental general. After all the years they’ve known each other, Ivan could read Kirigan’s mood easily. Despite his discontent, Kirigan is chipper for the first time in a long time. In fact, Ivan can’t even remember the last time his general was this happy...or happy at all.

“What kind?” Darkling asked, but his attention was undeniably divided as he caught sight of Y/N. 

She walked across the hallway with a purpose – determined to raise hell and he found it incredibly sexy. She paused for a moment, her gaze meeting his briefly. When she pursed her lips, his twitched at the corners – a smile starting to form.

“Sun Summoner kind”, Fedyor spoke in a hushed voice.

Kirigan’s smile falters, his eyes leaving Y/N’s. “Follow me”, he barked on order before walking in the opposite direction. 

All his life, the Darkling had been searching for the Sun Summoner. Every whisper of their existence turned out to be nothing but a fabrication, but something felt different now.

Once inside the map room, he leaned with his palms on the table. Kirigan didn’t say anything for a moment or ask for more information, but then his mouth moved on their own accord.

“Is it true?”

Glancing at each other, Ivan and Fedyor silently argued who should deliver the news.

“I asked you a question”, the general growled out, looking at them over his shoulder and the intensity of his glare had erased his earlier happiness.

“Nothing is confirmed yet, but we have quite a lot of accounts from the people surrounding the forest.” Ivan replied.

The Darkling made a sort of a grunting noise that Ivan didn’t know what to make of. The shadows covered the windows swiftly, engulfing the room in darkness as his left eye narrowed ever so slightly.

“The forest?”

Fedyor clears his throat, “Near the border.”

“Near the fold”, Ivan adds.

“I want”, he paused. Running his fingers through his hair, his shadows killed every source of outside light. “We need to prepare for a trip to the armies stationed at the fold.”

Nodding, Ivan looked to Fedyor and his deep-set frown.

“Are we to cross?” Fedyor asks.

The Darkling’s face is stone, his eyes unblinking. “Would it be a problem for you?”

Breath caught in his throat, Fedyor’s heart started to race. “No.”

“Good”, Kirigan remarked. “Prepare everything for departure in no more than a week.”

Sending them off, the Darkling sat in his chair. He wants so many things. His fingers graze his chin as he sighs – there would be no leaving without Y/N following. It’s not in her nature to do nothing and if she learns of the reasons behind his departure, he might lose her. The path of less resistance is to convince her the trip is to prove he’s honored his promise to her. He had sent the instructions yesterday and while she did force his hand on it, he didn’t hate her for it. If he’s bound for hell, at least it’s not a false one. She hates him, but she’s honest with him. He appreciated that.

Finding the Sun Summoner will change everything – for once, he will have a partner who can understand the weight of his past choices. He regrets too many things he’s done, but he was rarely given a choice. They broke the wrong parts of him, in the end, he showed them what happens when they laid a hand on those he cares for. That included Y/N now. If anything, she was a priority. Y/N is the only one he has left in this world.

While the Darkling pondered on the possibility of a Sun Summoner being true, Y/N sat in the library with a pile of books at each side.

The lingering effect of Aleksander’s gaze upon her and his devilish smirk had warmed her up in a way she least expected. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if time stopped or her heart did.

Shaking her head, she flipped the page in frustration. Her skin still burned bright from where he touched her. No amount of bathing can erase the fact she belonged to him now.

Swallowing thickly, she groaned. In all the books she had found, barely few had any information on the shadow summoner. Aside from Morozova creatures that serve as amplifiers, Y/N found mere mentions of a black heretic and the creation of the fold.

Her neck hurt, her eyes felt like they’re being pierced with needles and there was no saving her mind from all the theories she concocted. Leaning back in her chair, she huffed. Rubbing her eyes, she slammed the book closed before standing in frustration.

She didn’t want to love Aleksander, to risk her heart and life. She didn’t want to lay in bed, always afraid of what he might do if one day she’s not careful enough and he learns the truth. Naively, she hoped he’d either stand with her or just walk away but that’s not the Kirigan she knows. He wouldn’t forgive, it’s not in his nature.

Placing the books where she can find them in the morning, she headed to her room. Genya was kind enough to send a servant with lunch, but Y/N missed dinner entirely. Engrossed in books all day, she hardly felt any hunger.

At least not the kind of hunger food could satisfy.

Walking into the room, she hadn’t expected to find Aleksander sat at the bottom of their bed….shirtless.

Standing, he narrowed his eyes at her. “You weren’t at dinner.”

She raised a brow, “Wasn’t hungry.”

Kirigan crossed his arms over his bare chest, the movement making the muscles in his stomach flicker.

“Get dressed”, she quipped.

He smiled, “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“I’m surprised you don’t have a mirror in every corner of this Palace, since you love yourself so much.”

He laughed wholeheartedly as she just turned away, clamping a hand over her mouth. She couldn’t let herself laugh with him. Every moment like this feels like the world is spinning, making her resolution fragile. She’s aching to let him in, but it would be a mistake. She feels it in his bones, he’s not honest with her.

Caring for a man like him is dangerous, like standing in the eye of a hurricane.

“We’ll leave Little Palace in a week”, Aleksander speaks, “Just as you asked of me.”

She stares at him, disbelief and joy colliding. And it’s the look in his eyes, the hopeful, terrified look in those dark skies that disarms her.

“Why do I feel like there’s a catch?”

Running the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, Aleksander takes a step closer. “You’ll ride with me.”

Pursing her lips, she nods without ever breaking eye contact. “And?”

A breathless chuckle passes his lips, “You’ll have to wear a special kefta. One that won’t let you get hurt easily.”

Taking a deep breath, she tilts her head up, “And?”

Suppressing a smile, he raises an eyebrow. “You’ll be equipped with a weapon of choice. I believe you’re more than familiar with guns as a soldier of the First army.”

Raising both eyebrows in response, she takes a step closer to him. “Swords”, she notes.

Humming, his eyes widen ever so slightly as he waits for her to continue.

“I prefer swords”, she touched his face gently with the back of her hand.

“Of course”, he breathes out. A soft smile spreads across his lips, “Draw your swords if you see an enemy in sight.”

“Even if it’s my husband?” Her lips remain parted, her eyes flickering to his chest where she raised her hand to.

“I don’t care, as long as you keep yourself safe.”

She held her breath as his words resonated with her mind. How can he be so callous one day and then offer up his life for her to take. No game had ever made her question every single word that left someone’s lips before. Sometimes she’d look at him and see through the mask he shows the world and other times she couldn’t see anything other than her own reflection in his eyes as if his soul didn’t exist at all.

“Since when do you care?” She frowns, gnawing on the inside of her cheek.

Letting out a heavy sigh, his eyes flicker to the hand she splayed against his bare chest. Just the simple touch of her hand made him want more. It was becoming too hard to pretend he hates her. What he truly hates is how human she is – what is he supposed to do when her hair turns grey and he’s still young? How will he survive when someone takes her to exact vengeance against him? Will he be too late to save her then?

When your world comes to a stop and the value of life is amplified by those dead before their time in gruesome ways, it feels like an earthquake shakes the very foundations life is built on. But when the walls start falling, past and future no longer exist, only the moment you’re in and the first person that comes to mind when those walls are gone is what your life is all about. For Aleksander, that person is Y/N.

Looking into her eyes, his hands cup her face, “Since I had to spend five days believing you’re dead.”

He wanted to wrap Y/N in his arms and tell her he would never let her walk away, not after he had a taste of what it means to be with her. He wanted to tell her his love is unconditional and that his soul is hers, even if she didn’t want to give him hers. He would wait, as patiently and as stubbornly as he did by now and that she will never lose him because even if he wished, he can’t scrub his heart clean of her. And he never wanted to.

“I thought you’d protect me?” She raised an eyebrow, teasing him.

She had become his heart, his reason to live. She lit a fire within, something he had lost over time and while she’s completely unaware of it, if the world tried to take her from him, the Darkling would wage war to make sure she remains by his side.

Blinking slow, a faint smile upon his lips, the Darkling tilts his head slightly to the left. “Would you allow it?”

There is nothing in the world he wanted more than to kiss her again, but this time around Aleksander decided to let her make the move. She is tender, but fierce. To understand a woman like her, one must realize that the former is who she is and the latter is what life demanded of her.

“Not likely”, she remarks and he throws his head back, chuckling.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she wets her lips in thought and he can’t help but think this is a well-designed trap for him to say the wrong thing and for her to use it as excuse to put distance between them rather than face her own desires and he was almost certain those desires included him.

“You want me”, he whispers in her ear as his fingertips slide up her spine and to the back of her neck, “And it’s killing you.”

“Physical attraction means nothing”, her voice is low, but unwavering.

Aleksander bites the inside of his lower lip in anticipation of her pushing him away and storming off, but even as he waits, he feels her hips press closer to him as if she’s telling him he won’t be left alone. Not again.

“Yet you’re here”, he grins. Tucking her hair behind her left ear, he admired how firm she stands in her opposition.

“So are you”, she quipped,. 

A cocky smile appears on his lips, tiny wrinkles forming around his dark eyes as he holds her gaze bravely, unwavering even when her gaze becomes a glare.

Biting her lower lip, contemplating the right move, Y/N could hardly fight her desire for him. Her head knew he it would be unwise, but her heart screamed at her to kiss him and those butterflies in her stomach felt more like killer bees as the need to feel him inside her had taken over every rational thought she generated.

One hand caressing his lean cheek, she gave into her primal instincts as she slammed her lips against his and Aleksander’s own heart leapt inside his chest. 

Their need for each other was urgent. Y/N grabbed a handful of flesh and muscle on Aleksander’s back. He gasped and laughed throatily at her haste. When her hands clawed at him again, he grasped both hands in one of his and held them over her head. She struggled to free herself, but he was too strong. When he entered her, she gasped, then moved her hips up to meet his.

He released her hands and she pulled him closer and closer to her. They made love quickly, almost harshly, before they found the sweet release they longed for. Aleksander collapsed on top of her, their bodies still joined as one when their minds gave in, slowly drifting to sleep.

Just like the previous morning, he remained in the bed, his arms wrapped around her tightly. 

She barely saw him during the day as the week progressed, but their nights were spent together – entangled mess of limbs, desperate moans and needy pleas neither held back. She’d close her eyes in his embrace and begin her day the same way.

“You don’t have much time”, Genya warned as Y/N dressed in haste. She decided to dress for the trip, it was the only way she could fit in a few hours in the library.

“I won’t be long”, she smiled at her friend.

Licking her lips, Genya took her by the hand. “What is it that you’re looking for?”

Y/N clenched her teeth, wondering if she should tell Genya. Something inside her warned against it – she didn’t tell anyone his name is Aleksander, feeling privileged to know such information. If she’s wrong and she can trust him, she didn’t want to poison anyone else with her doubt beforehand. A single book remained unread on her pile of very thick books she went through.

“Just trying to learn”, Y/N shrugged.

Nodding, Genya smiles, “In case we don’t see each other before you leave, I have to implore you to reconsider David as an ally.”

“I will”, Y/N promised and she would. Someone in Aleksander’s inner circle could be of use to her.

Going through the pages, she felt exhausted. Spending all her time in ancient books didn’t seem to be of use, but for once the text made sense. It spoke of the black heretic and the many names he’s been called in history.

“He walks the earth with a power only the saints could possess. They call him The Black Heretic, The Shadow King, The Starless Saint, Staski, Eryk, Leonid – numerous names that he exchanged for each lifetime he was given and by now it must be at least a few hundred lifetimes of darkness. His name – true name was lost throughout the centuries, occasionally heard as a whisper carried in the wind.”

Wide eyed, she read through the text of a scholar who described the Black Heretic and his powers, his entire lineage being his mother who remained unnamed and…him.

“He has no descendants?” Y/N’s lips quiver. If he has no descendants and his line begins and ends with him, how would Aleksander even exist?

Unless…

No.

It would be impossible, would it not?

“Numerous names that he exchanged for each lifetime he was given”, she reads aloud only to cover her own mouth in face of a startling epiphany. It was as she noticed the dark connection between the great mystery, the horrific realization set in.

“Pardon me, miss, but General Kirigan has sent for you”, a servant frightened her.

Taking the book in haste, Y/N stood on her shaky legs. Mouth dry, she pressed her lips in a thin line.

“Thank you”, she walked out so quickly, barely containing her quick and shallow breaths. Sweating profusely, she felt as if the black kefta she wore weighed down on her like battle armor.

Was it not her armor? Was this not a constant war she’s struggled with?

Aleksander…Kirigan…The Darkling…who is he?

“Are you ready?” Aleksander is waiting by the door with a small smile on his lips. His hand is opened for her to take, but she ignores it. If she took his hand, he’d feel the shakiness she’s trying so hard to steady.

Mounting his black stallion, she tucked the book safely inside her inner pocket.

“I’ll take the reins”, she informed him as he took his place behind her.

She heard him scoff, “I’m the general.” 

Is Aleksander even his real name?

Are the stories about him true? 

“On this side of the fold, so am I”, she gripped the reins and the stallion obeyed.

Riding a horse always helped her clear her mind, but this time it seemed impossible. 

When she married Kirigan, she believed she would marry an old, unattractive man…As it turns out, she got the old part right.

=============================

A/N - I’m not quite happy with this chapter, but I wanted to post today to keep my streak going. Also, i suck at writing a summary, like WHY IS THAT?! xD It’s Eid, so I’m tired and sleepy, forgive my grammar and prepare for things to heat up in the next chapters. Thank you all for sticking with the story and all the feedback, it honestly gives me life and will to keep writing. I also finally found the books in my native tongue, at least the Grisha trilogy and Six of crows duology and I’m really excited to dive into it and further my understanding of Darkling as a brilliantly written villain that is a multi-dimensional being with, let’s be honest, actually good points. I may not be happy about his willingness to commit mass murder, but I kinda see where he’s coming from and I really can’t wait to know more about the situation as it is in the books.  

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PART 10

[jjacob]

all i want for christmas is you

❝ the school had started to take notice of you. lee juyeon, however, had always noticed. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee juyeon x fem!reader (ft. best friend!lee minho)

GENRES ▸ fluff, high school au, sports au, best friends to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ mild profanity but !! lots of !! fluff !! 

SUMMARY ▸ the bet was simple: find a date to the winter ball. the only problem was that juyeon didn’t want just any girl. he wanted you.

PLAYLIST ▸ all i want for christmas is you by mariah carey

WORD COUNT ▸ 5055 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ merry christmas! this is a gift for addy @honeyju​ the biggest juyeon simp ik !! ily addy i am excited/scared/not emotionally ready to read the minho one which ! btw y’all should read here bc our stories are loosely connected! also disclaimer: i know jack shit ab football but i tried

LEE JUYEON TENDED TO REGRET HALF THE THINGS HE SAID SOMETIMES. 

In eighth grade, Juyeon’s sense of humor was largely self-deprecating and consisted of saying he wanted to die at the slightest inconvenience. But, with his spectacular timing, he let the joke slip in front of a teacher once and froze up upon seeing her concerned expression. Juyeon later received a note from the counselor’s office and had to convince them that he was perfectly fine.

In tenth grade, Juyeon had grown past his phase of dark humor and moved onto high school football. He made the cut for the team the previous year, and managed to make it on the varsity team by the time he was a sophomore. In the beginning of the season, they asked who wanted to be captain the next year, and Juyeon boldly declared that he did. Thus, he was ridiculed and sentenced to pick up balls and clean up the gym after every practice from then on.

Now, as a high school junior in the varsity football team, Juyeon had screwed himself over by making a stupid bet with his best friend, Lee Minho.

Lee Minho was, in short, a conniving bastard. Juyeon never should have trusted him and gone along with his antics. The mere thought of what he had gotten himself into was enough to send his heart into overdrive.

The bet sounded simple enough: find a date to the Winter Ball.

Of course, it was easier said than done, but Juyeon was a star athlete and had girls sliding in his DMs left and right. He could easily find a date if he wanted to, and, honestly, Juyeon only needed to send a few texts and he would probably be secured for the dance. The problem was, however, that Juyeon only wanted you.

Minho was well aware of Juyeon’s pitiful, unrequited love towards you. It was probably the reason he suggested the bet; his best friend either wanted to see him miserable or see him score a chance with you. Either way, Juyeon wasn’t sure his heart was ready to shoot his shot.

Juyeon had crushed on you ever since you sat next to him in the seventh grade and let him borrow your pencil. It was such a silly start to his admiration for you, but his feelings grew stronger when the both of you actually became friends. You were so bright when you laughed, so sweet when you spoke, and so adorable when you smiled. Juyeon had never felt this way about anyone else and always got butterflies when he saw you. Juyeon was never one to chase after girls but he would find himself constantly thinking about what you were up to and having several internal dilemmas over whether he should ask you to hang out or not.

Five years later and Juyeon still harbored feelings for you. Now, they had matured into something deeper, but you still racked his brain nevertheless. It didn’t help that you had a major glow-up in high school and were probably the most beautiful person Juyeon had ever seen.

The school started to take notice of you.

Juyeon, on the other hand, had always noticed.

“Are you sure we can finish a medium before practice?” Minho asked Juyeon, setting a box of pizza on the table in front of him. “Also, I saw Y/N by the gym earlier.”

Juyeon perked up. “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” Minho replied, grabbing a slice of pepperoni pizza for himself. “You know what day it is, right?”

Minho took a bite out of his pizza, observing Juyeon with a raised brow. His best friend was on the baseball team but treating themselves to pizza had become a monthly ritual. Despite being on different teams, he was closer to Minho than his football teammates.

“Thursday?”

“And that means?”

Right.

Juyeon had formulated an elaborate plan to ask you out during the football game today, but, of course, it all depended on whether their team won or not. It would have been kind of ridiculous to propose after a loss. On the bright side, he knew he could count on the fact that you’d actually be present considering you were a cheerleader.

But what if you already had a date? You surely hadn’t mentioned it to him or posted about it on social media, so he was riding on an assumption that you haven’t been asked. That was bizarre to Juyeon, though, because you were the prettiest person he had ever seen. However, it was true that you were gradually getting popular, and that made Juyeon a touch nervous.

“I ask her out tomorrow,” Juyeon breathed out. “Am I ready for this?”

Minho scoffed lightly. “Are you ever?”

Juyeon frowned at his best friend, scrunching up his nose at his distasteful comment. “What about you? Have you gotten a date?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Juyeon sighed. That was probably all he would get out of Lee Minho today. Once Minho set his mind on something, he carried it out diligently until the end. Juyeon honestly had no idea who he wanted to bring since Minho didn’t like talking about girls he was interested in, but he supposed it wasn’t that big of a deal as long as his best friend was happy.

It wasn’t like Juyeon was never going to hear about his friend’s endeavors. After all, he did pick up on Minho’s slow descent from an apathetic individual to a whipped ball of fluff. If Juyeon mentioned that to his best friend, however, he would probably be ridiculed for consistently being whipped for you since the seventh grade.

Juyeon nearly jumped out of his seat at the sound of his ringer going off. He scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket, ignoring Minho’s teasing smirk at the sight of his frazzled self.

y/n: hey :) i’m gonna drop off some gingerbread cookies my mom made after practice so lmk when i can come over

Juyeon must have saved a country in a past life for this kind of luck.

juyeon: i love your mom’s cookies. you can come over whenever you’d like

y/n: how about we walk home together after practice?

juyeon: sounds good to me

Now, the pizza was starting to make his mouth water, but if you were walking home with him, Juyeon was ready to drop it and run to see you even though he loved pizza. But Juyeon loved you more than he loved pizza, and he believed that was true love.

“She made me cookies,” Juyeon announced.

“She made you cookies,” Minho repeated, leaning forward in surprise.

“Well, her mom did, but yeah.”

Minho turned his attention back to his pizza. “So this is about your mommy kink again.”

“I don’t have a fucking mommy—why would you say that?” Juyeon cried out, kicking his friend’s shin under the table.

“You don’t? Last time I checked, she was making dinner in the kitchen when I came over yesterday.”

“I’m talking about the kink!”

Yet, even a silly back-and-forth with Minho couldn’t get Juyeon down from his high over you. He was still processing the fact that you were going to walk home with him and, if Juyeon played his cards right, maybe he could get a feel of how comfortable you would be if he asked you out during the game tomorrow.

Minho snickered. “You look happy.”

Juyeon couldn’t even mask his lovesick smile and flushed cheeks. He folded his arms on the table in front of him and buried his face in them, his head spinning at the thought of you.

“Shut up, Minho.”

The only problem with you being on the cheerleading team was that you were extremely distracting.

Juyeon was the star quarterback and frankly, it was kind of pathetic that the one thing that kicked him in the ass was seeing you in the knee socks and pom-poms. It didn’t help that you were a flyer so Juyeon’s stomach pitted with anxiety whenever he saw you being thrown up and whenever he heard a scream coming from the direction of the cheerleaders.

Today was different, though. Juyeon could care less about the screams and falls from the corner of the field. All he could think about was you and how he was going to ask you out. If his plan was going to work, it was going to draw a lot of attention and be quite embarrassing if it failed.

All of his confidence got knocked down with a single sweep when he saw someone asked you to the dance.

One of the cheerleaders broke into a fit of giggles at the sight, clasping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god!”

You were frozen stiff, an awkward smile on your face as the guy walked onto the field with a sign and about a dozen roses. Juyeon could feel his heart sinking to the ground with each step the guy took, with each second his smile grew brighter.

“Is he seriously confessing during practice?” Sohn Youngjae asked, brows furrowed as he rested his arm on Juyeon’s shoulder. “That’s real brave.”

“What’s his deal doing it here? He isn’t even on the team,” Juyeon said, coming off more bitter than he had expected.

Younghoon scoffed. “It’s a bold move. He must be confident that Y/N’s going to say yes.”

Juyeon squared his shoulders. He was conflicted with the swell of anger and deflation of you possibly being taken, but nevertheless, all he could do was watch helplessly as you were being asked out. From where they were on the field, Juyeon couldn’t hear much, but he could see your reactions quite well. The wolf-whistles and cheers were pissing him off, but he was fixed on you.

He turned to look towards Minho, who was practicing on the field adjacent to theirs. His best friend met his gaze immediately like they had some form of exclusive telepathic communication. Minho nodded towards you and raised a brow, as if nudging Juyeon to go interrupt them. That, however, was something he was far too cowardly to bring himself to do.

Your voice resounded clearer than Juyeon had expected.

“I’m really sorry,” you apologized sincerely, ducking your head and keeping your hands entwined behind you. “I’m not interested, but I do appreciate the gesture.”

Juyeon felt a weight lift off of his chest. He wasn’t sure if he should’ve felt relieved that you shot him down or nervous that you rejected an attractive, confident guy who clearly liked you. However, he soon had no time to mull over that when the guy’s reaction was getting more aggressive than crestfallen.

“Y/N, I asked you out in front of all these people,” he said with a distasteful laugh. “Are you seriously rejecting me right now?”

“Sorry, I just don’t want to go with you,” you replied firmly, voice dropping as you became more conscious of your surroundings. “I’m sorry it had to be public but you didn’t really give me a choice.”

For a split second, Juyeon wondered how he could still hear you when you were practically muttering at this point, and then he realized that he started walking to you without even realizing. His feet carried him unknowingly, hand balled at his side and eyes stony and trained on the guy.

“You could’ve just accepted it and told me later that you didn’t want to go with me,” he said with a scoff. “It’s like you enjoy humiliating others publicly.”

Your teammates rushed forward to argue and fend him off while you opened your mouth to protest, but Juyeon was faster, moving in front of you so he was head-to-head with the guy.

“She said she’s not interested,” he said with a threatening undertone, wondering where he managed to muster up the courage to be this assertive.

You were visibly shocked by Juyeon’s actions, and he couldn’t even blame you because he was equally just as surprised as you were. Yet, all he could do was glare daggers down at the other guy with steely eyes and frown until he backed off.

“Thanks,” you said softly once the guy had left.

Juyeon was flustered by all the girls giggling behind you but was amazed by how cool and collected you remained despite that. He turned to you, eyes softening and shoulders relaxing. He knew he was getting an earful about this from his teammates after practice and most definitely from Minho as well.

“No problem,” Juyeon replied, cheeks red. “He was bothering you. I couldn’t just ignore it.”

“That was really sweet of you, Juyeon.” You bit back a smile and suggested, “Meet you at the front gates after practice?”

“See you then.”

Even though Juyeon could’ve spent the rest of practice talking to you, he sprinted back as fast as he could because his cheeks were only getting redder as the cheerleaders gushed about what he did for you. He could hear their gossip and whispering even as he was running back to his team. Juyeon was positive he wouldn’t escape the embarrassment, though, because Lee Jaehyun was smirking at him when he got back.

“You’re blushing, dude.”

Juyeon shoved him.

There was a universal law that was newly decreed. It read: Lee Minho shall never text, call, or speak to Lee Juyeon whenever Y/N was around.

The reason for that being the fact that Juyeon was easily embarrassed and Minho’s texts were not helping his case. He felt it was rude enough to check his phone while he was walking with you, but every time he saw a notification flash, his eyes widened with sheer distress over Minho’s texts.

minho: like three people asked me if you and y/n are fucking bc of what you pulled during practice today

minho: wait are y’all fucking and just not telling me

minho: i knew it was sus that she was coming over to your house

juyeon: fake news!! stop making me feel shy :(

Juyeon decided he had enough Lee Minho for today and turned off his phone.

“That was honestly the coolest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” you gushed to Juyeon as you walked home with him, fingers looped around the straps of your backpack. “Way cooler than you punting footballs.”

“No need to flatter me,” Juyeon replied coolly but his shy smile and red-tipped ears said otherwise. “That guy was being unnecessarily aggressive.”

“His proposal was out of nowhere!” you exclaimed. “I don’t get what he expected me to do.”

Juyeon smiled through the pain. Lord, give me strength, he prayed to whatever divine power was out there.

“Are you not interested in having a date to the dance then?” Juyeon asked, looking down at you curiously.

You paused for a moment and Juyeon thought his heart would stop in anticipation for your answer. Come to think of it, he had never seen you go to a school dance with a date before. You were always with your friend group. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary to see you stick with them, but Juyeon was hoping he could change that.

“Well,” you started, “if the right person asked me then I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Juyeon couldn’t exactly read your smile but it made him want to faint. The rest of the walk back home was spent talking about school and football, but Juyeon couldn’t get your answer to his question out of his head. He even walked past his house because his head was so full of you, resulting in you needing to stop him and tell him that they had already reached his place.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Juyeon’s mom chirped with a good-natured smile. “How has your mom been?”

Juyeon’s eyes widened upon the realization that they never stopped by at your place first to get the cookies. He opened his mouth to interject but you went on to answer.

“She’s been great, Mrs. Lee,” you replied, smiling just as big, and pulled out a box of cookies from your bag. “She wanted me to give these to you.”

“That’s so sweet! Give her my thanks,” his mom replied and opened the door wider once she accepted the cookies. “Come in for some tea, will you?”

Juyeon was practically frozen at the doorway while you were taking off your shoes and walking inside. If you had the cookies with you this entire time, then why didn’t you just give them to him to take home himself? Unless you were worried about the courtesy, it was a bit out of your way to take the time to walk home with Juyeon to deliver them.

“Juyeon, what are you doing out there?” his mom asked. “Come inside. It’s cold.”

“Right.”

Having you over at his house wasn’t exactly the sparkly fantasy that Juyeon thought it would be.

He was getting quite jealous of your mom hogging all of your attention. It wasn’t like you and Juyeon drifted apart during high school, so he wasn’t sure why his mom had to pull you away from him and have her own conversation with you. The worst part was that Juyeon couldn’t even join in on the conversation. He had no idea what they were even talking about.

That is, until his mom brought up the dance.

“Do you have a date, Y/N?” Juyeon’s mom asked.

“I don’t,” she replied. “I usually just go with my friends.”

“You’re so pretty, though,” Mrs. Lee tutted. “I’m sure someone must’ve asked you out.”

“Actually, someone asked me today,” you said. There was a moment of silence as you looked over at Juyeon while his gaze bore into yours. For a moment, you were struggling for what to say, mouthing words that weren’t being processed. Juyeon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly once you regained your composure. “Juyeon actually helped me out.”

Mrs. Lee straightened up. “My son did?” She looked amused as she turned to Juyeon.

“Yeah,” you answered, grinning. “He was really cool.”

Juyeon blushed darkly once their eyes were on him. “W-what? I couldn’t ignore it. I wasn’t even doing that much. I was just helping out. You know, being a decent person,” he rambled and stood up. “Anyways, isn’t it getting late? Mom, Y/N has to go home soon and it’s gonna be pitch black outside if you keep her here.”

“Oh, you’re right.” Mrs. Lee frowned as she peered out the window. “Juyeon, you walk her home then.”

“What?” he sputtered out, looking between you and his mom before he caved, muttering, “I’ll go get my jacket.”

After an exchange of goodbyes, you had stepped out of the house and waited while Juyeon was slipping his shoes on. There was a moment of struggle where he had tied his laces too tight and couldn’t get the shoe on but he managed to slip it on after a few seconds of internal screaming. Juyeon zipped up his jacket the moment he stepped outside, the brisk coldness making his goosebumps rise.

“You really don’t have to walk me back,” you told Juyeon. “It’s cold outside.”

“It’s really late,” Juyeon replied, rubbing his hands together in hopes that the friction would provide some heat. “You shouldn’t be walking home by yourself, and I really don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled, ducking your face. “For this, for what you did during practice—everything.”

Juyeon was glad that you weren’t looking at him because his mouth was opening and closing over and over again like a fish. He was also thankful for the fact that he could blame the dust of pink across his cheeks on the cold winter bite. Unfortunately, you lived close by so Juyeon didn’t have time to come up with a cool response and he didn’t want to leave things like this. There was a good vibe going on and he was upset that he couldn’t act upon it; when it came to you, Lee Juyeon was a coward.

“Um, we’re here so…” Juyeon trailed off when he turned to you, sort of thrown off by how beautiful you looked with your windswept hair and flushed cheeks. Dazed, he reached forward and moved a strand of your hair out of your face. “It’s good I walked you home and you’re not like, lost or… something—I’ll shut up now.”

You laughed, and it was an octave higher as if you were rattled from him touching your hair. “Ah, yes, a few streets down can be a harrowing trek.”

Juyeon laughed with you before his eyes settled on you. Your hands were crossed, rubbing your arms that were prickled with goosebumps. A wave of guilt washed through Juyeon and led him to strip his jacket off immediately. He ignored the piercing chill and put his jacket around your shoulders, making sure they covered your bare arms.

“My house is right here,” you argued. “You’re going to be cold.”

“Keep it on. I have something to tell you after the game,” Juyeon said firmly. It was his second burst of courage for you today and he was a little too amped up for his own good. “If you don’t like it then give me back my jacket tomorrow.”

Before you could respond, Juyeon turned on his heel and bolted home, the biggest grin across his face because he was head-over-heels for you.

Juyeon had never been so nervous in his life.

The game was underway, Juyeon’s leg bouncing as he eyeballed the scoreboard. His team was strong in the first two quarters, cutting it close by the third, but now they were neck-to-neck. They had ended with a tie and now they decided to go into overtime for the sake of choosing a winner for the game. It was a sudden death round so whoever scored first would win the game. Juyeon, however, found it difficult to concentrate.

Especially with Lee Minho breathing down his back.

“Are you ready?” his best friend asked.

“Yes—well, no, but I don’t really have a choice.”

“That’s true.”

“I already made the sign and told the team and everything,” Juyeon whined. “I really screwed myself over, Minho.”

Minho pushed at the back of his head. “Dude, I’m talking about the game.”

“Oh, that—that’s fine,” Juyeon stammered. “Fifteen minutes—we just have to win, and then I have to ask out the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“You could chicken out,” Minho suggested, “but that also comes with me never letting you live it down.”

“You see, I kind of already implied that I’m going to tell her something important.”

“You did?” Minho’s voice was somewhere between shocked and impressed.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Juyeon muttered, pushing himself off the bench. “Keep the poster safe for me!”

“Good luck, champ!”

Juyeon, sweaty and bangs sticking to his forehead, had to ignore every distraction and think about winning the game before his stomach threw itself into a pool of anxiety over asking you out. He got in a huddle with his team in the remaining fifteen seconds they had before they had to get in formation and lowered the facemask of his helmet. It was up to this one last play to determine whether they would win the game or not.

“Just like we practiced, alright?” Juyeon told them. “Double-wing power pass. We get them to bite thinking it’s a run play and then open up a passing lane.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Jaehyun cheered, and the rest of them put in their mouth guards and lowered their facemasks.

Juyeon took a shaky breath as he got in formation at the line of scrimmage. His heart was racing but he wasn’t sure it was about the game. Nevertheless, he steeled his nerves and held his ground. The whistle blew and the crowd was silent, observing the tension on the field carefully.

“Silver-80! Silver-80! Hut! Hut! Hike!” Juyeon yelled, and the center, Sangyeon, snapped the ball to him.

Juyeon faked a handoff to Jaehyun, the fullback, and spun around, rolling to his right. Changmin sped up in front of Juyeon to defend him. A smile tugged at Juyeon’s lips. Their plan was working just as he intended, but there was a problem: they couldn’t open up a passing lane for the running backs like he thought they would. The play was too rushed, so it wasn’t ever a guarantee.

So Juyeon had to do what he would normally deem crazy.

He spun at the sight of the other team coming to tackle him and skirted around the field, belting down the field. He dodged past another linebacker that tried to body him. His primary motivation was that he didn’t want a concussion before he confessed to you, but he assumed it was okay to admit that to himself as long as he didn’t throw the game.

Juyeon felt a hand grab him but he pushed forward, running across the goal line and into the end zone. He threw the ball down and cried out in joy as he scored a touchdown. The whistle blew and the scoreboard flipped. They won.

He did it.

Juyeon’s team ran to him, cheering at the top of their lungs. He was lifted up on Jaehyun and Younghoon’s shoulders, grinning happily before his heart sunk back down. The cheerleaders ran to the field, cheering and tossing their pom poms up. The crowd was roaring. Juyeon was realizing that he had to do the scariest thing that a heterosexual teenage boy ever had to experience.

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun,” Juyeon tapped his shoulder quickly. “We have no time. I have to do it now.”

“Oh shit.”

Jaehyun and Younghoon dropped Juyeon onto the turf. Juyeon winced at the sudden impact, gathering himself back to his feet and hoping you didn’t witness that. Jaehyun gave him a half-assed apology and pushed him forward to run and get his poster and flowers from Minho. Jaehyun then grabbed Changmin by the shoulders, urging him to go to the announcer’s booth.

Juyeon sprinted over to Minho, waving his hands dramatically. “Give, give, give,” he demanded amongst all the cheering.

Minho didn’t waste any time and pushed the poster and bouquet into Juyeon’s hands. “Break a leg, tiger.”

“Trust me, I nearly did.”

Juyeon jogged back onto the field, cheeks hot and head a little dizzy for what was about to come. He didn’t even tell his mom he was going to ask you out and she had to watch her son ask his best friend out to the dance. This was probably going to be a moment of utter humiliation but once Juyeon saw you in your high ponytail with a bright smile on your face, all that fear faded away and it was just you and him.

More importantly, you were wearing his jacket over your uniform and Juyeon felt like he was going to combust from the cuteness.

“Guys, guys,” Jaehyun called to the team. “Surround Juyeon. Make sure Y/N doesn’t see him.”

Juyeon’s heart was beating a hundred miles per second. He was glad he was running on the adrenaline from winning the game because otherwise, he would be cowering in fear and sweating buckets right now.

“Everyone, listen up!” Changmin spoke over the intercom. “First of all, the football team scored a major dub today—ow! Sunwoo, cut it out—alright, I’ll get to it!” Changmin broke from the mic and started bickering with Sunwoo.

There was a pause, and Juyeon was surprised to hear Minho’s voice fill the speakers, “Anyways, my buddy and our star quarterback, Juyeon, has something to say for a special someone.”

The crowd fell silent, a couple cheers and wolf-whistles as it was pretty obvious that a confession was about to happen.

“This is so fucking fluffy,” Sunwoo mumbled.

“Shut up, Sunwoo,” Juyeon replied, nudging him with his elbow.

The football team moved out of the way so that they weren’t huddled around Juyeon anymore. Juyeon’s breath caught in his throat as he walked forward to the middle of the field, holding up his sign, reading: Will you be my sunshine?

“Y/N,” he called out loudly, “honestly this confession is long overdue, but will you go to Winter Ball with me tonight and be my sunshine?”

The crowd started cheering and whistling again, and Juyeon wanted to die. She hadn’t even given him her answer yet and everyone was acting like she had agreed and they eloped. The cheerleaders pushed Y/N forward and she approached Juyeon, looking like a deer in headlights.

Juyeon took another shaky breath and continued, “I’ve been in love with you for so long so it would be an honor if I could take you to the dance,” he said and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you.”

You bit your lip but that wasn’t enough to contain the happiness that showed on your face. You zipped up Juyeon’s jacket and threw yourself into his arms. Everyone practically exploded but Juyeon was sure his heartbeat was louder. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your shoulder.

Was this what people called a Christmas miracle?

“Oh shit!” Changmin screamed over the intercom. (“Shut up, they’re having a moment,” Minho’s faint voice was picked up in the background).

“Oh my god, you just made me the happiest man alive,” he mumbled.

You pulled back and reached forward to move his damp bangs off of his forehead. “Took you long enough.”

“Wait, did you—did you like me?” Juyeon choked out.

You laughed and cupped his face in your hands. There was a shaky inhale and exhale of breaths when his lips brushed against yours, and Juyeon closed the distance, kissing you like he was starved of your touch. His hold tightened on you as you melted into him, and then you both pulled away, smiling and dazed and lovesick.

You giggled. “Does that answer your question?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, grinning as he brushed his nose against yours.

Juyeon could care less about all the presents and holiday cheer because he had you and you were all he wanted.

[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[aquagustd]

lexicon love - KNJ

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: who is the tall, mysterious stranger with an impeccable taste in books that visits your café every day?

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7K

warnings/tags: idol au, s2l, book café owner!y/n, writer!y/n, meetcute, y/n is as clumsy as namjoon, no warnings except dimples

a/n: my first namjoon fic!

↳part of the Serotonin Series

∞

The security door makes a soft beep as you push it open, shuffling to the power outlet behind the counter to turn on the lights. The hazy blue sky casts a dull light into the café. The cool Autumn’s morning breeze causes a shiver to run down your spine, therefore you opt to leave your coat on until the heating kicks in.

It won’t be long until customers start to pour in. You glance at the clock above the coffee machines, 6:43AM, Soobin will be in to cover his Monday morning shift any minute now.

Always the early bird, the bell above the front entrance door chimes as Soobin walks in, umbrella in hand.

“Morning Y/N noona”, he gives a bright smile as he makes his way around the counter to deposit his bag and umbrella in the lower shelves.

“Morning Soobin, I haven’t looked at the weather forecast for today,” you point to his umbrella, questioning.

“Ah, light showers later this afternoon as well as for the rest of the week,” he smiles while tying his apron.

“Ooh, I love this chilly weather, it makes me appreciate all the hot drinks, not to mention the stream of customers,” you wiggle your eyebrows, and he laughs.

“Ah yes, I better get to work then, are you okay? You seem a bit tired.”

You rub your temples, “I hardly got any sleep last night, had some editing to do plus I was working on the newspaper article for next week. I just got a bit held up because I got home late last night.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, noona. I know you can’t say no to anyone,” he raises his eyebrows, concerned.

“Don’t worry about me, ah look,” the bell chimes, “you have customers. I’ll be in the office if you need me.”

He’s right, you can’t say no to anyone, it seems like you’re the only editor in this town with all the calls you get. You barely have time for your weekly newspaper segments and must work around all your editing jobs instead of the other way around.

You sit at the office desk and boot up the computer to check the weekly sales of the book department.

It seems like most customers prefer to sit at the café and read, your book sales have declined since last month, but it’s nothing you’re too worried about because the café sales seem to have skyrocketed ever since you started stocking up on pastries, cakes and the like from Odeng’s Bakery.

You make your way to the service desk near the second entrance and can already spot a few patrons on the couches near the bookshelves.

The enticing smell of coffee greets you when you see that Soobin had left your regular coffee order and a croissant with strawberry jam ready for you to tuck into on the counter.

-

The day goes by hassle free and its around 3PM when the café is filled with the quiet chatter of all the college and high school students who are taking up ninety percent of the seat space.

But as you scan the area, you spot him.

The, you’ve assumed from his build, guy, who goes by the name ‘RR’ when he signs for rentals and purchases. Apparently, claiming the single couch and table at the far back section of the shelves as his.

He never approached the service desk, and his coffee order never changes. You see Mina, the afternoon shift waitress, take a slice of vanilla sponge or a few beignets to his table now and again.

He always has his face mask on with his hood over his head, in the more humid weather you wonder if he’s frying up in there. You peeked at the books he signed for and his list is filled with a wide spectrum of literary pieces. From fiction to non-fiction to autobiographies to poetry, the list is endless.

He’s tall and is well-read? Attractive.

Could he also be some sociopath with a strong affinity to books and coffee? Maybe.

But he comes to your café every day, even on Sundays, where he arrives a little earlier than usual, 11AM, to be precise. So, there will be a day where he’ll have to interact with you at the service desk. You thought about approaching him a few times, but what will you say?

Hi, I went through your reading list and I just want to say I love your sexy brain?

No. That’d be weird. So, you opt to just watch him from afar.

But you’re not…keeping tabs on him or anything. You find him intriguing, and you want to know more about this tall stranger, whose taste in books is so vast. Yes.

It seems that day has arrived.

You say your goodbyes to Mina, lock up the cash register and switch off all the computers but before you can turn off the main switch, you notice a figure, at the back of the shelves.

Particularly where tall guy usually sits.

Now’s your chance, you think.

As you slowly approach him, you notice he is slumped in his seat and his head hangs low, chin against his chest, cap secured over his hair.

“Excuse me?”

No response.

As you get closer you notice that his eyes are closed, and you can hear a faint beat from somewhere. You assume it must be his earphones.

You clear your throat. “Excuse me?”

That won’t do, the music is too loud.

You place a hand on his shoulder and shake once, twice, the third time he wakes up with a start and knocks his half full coffee cup, spilling its contents on the table and dripping onto the carpeted floor.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” his deep voice startles you and you stare at him.

His mask had fallen off his face when he jerked as he woke up, and you realize that you recognize him.

“RM?” You squeak. “Kim Namjoon.”

Oh no. He thinks. He looks around and sees you’re the only two in the café.

“That’s me, I’m sorry,” he looks at the time on his phone, “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“It’s totally fine,” you chuckle, and he’s shocked at how calm your voice sounds.

You stare at each other for a few seconds, you could probably hear a pin drop.

He looks around, “Oh! I’m sorry”, he gives a deep bow, “I’ll leave now.”

“No, stay,” you splutter, and he quirks an eyebrow at you.

“I-I mean, I’ve been wondering who you were, I mean not that I’m acquainted with all my customers, but you always come in and I can’t really see your face and you wear that mask all the time and your books, and…” You look at him and he has a bemused expression on his face.

“What I meant to say is…It all makes sense now, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

He chuckles and the sound makes your insides flutter.

“Y/L/N Y/N.”

“Huh,” your throat suddenly feels dry.

He leans back in the couch, “You know, I buy the local newspaper just for your segments.”

“What,” it comes out a lot softer than you intended and you wonder if he even heard you.

“I really enjoy your reading, the topics you touch on have me, what’s the word,” he looks to the ceiling as if the word is up there and you take the chance to stare at his neck.

“Reflecting…It has me reflecting on a lot of things.”

You blink at him and he stands up, knocking the menu stand on the table and he bends to catch it- unsuccessfully.

“I’m really sorry about the coffee, and about the uhm, random review.”

“Is that what ‘RR’ stands for?”

“What?”

“RR, random review? You always sign off with those initials.”

He laughs and stares at his shoes, two deep dimples making an appearance and you’re smiling at him. You have no idea why.

“’RR’ stands for ‘Runch Randa’, my uhm, old rapper name.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

More silence.

“Once again I am so sorry about the coffee, where are the tissues, I can help you clean it up”, he starts to look behind you towards the service desk, taking a few steps around the table.

You lift your hands up to stop him, “Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean up here.”

He picks up his bag and phone, getting ready to leave. In your haste to step out of his way, the heel on your boot gets caught in a part of the carpet that has buckled, and you brace yourself for the fall and close your eyes.

But your back never meets the floor, instead your body is cradled by two strong arms.

Opening your eyes, you are met with two brown orbs staring directly into yours.

You do not know how long you stand like that, him holding onto you while you grip on his, very large, bicep.

You can’t hold it in anymore and you burst out laughing. He seems to have been broken from a spell, because he immediately straightens up and steadies you with his arms on your shoulders.

“What?” He asks almost exasperatedly.

“Nothing, its just…” And another round of giggles starts up.

He starts laughing too and you both stand there like two clumsy fools.

This whole situation is hilarious to you both. From the few minutes you've spoken to him, he seemed, uncoordinated, yet he managed to catch you.

When things quiet down, you’re still smiling at each other, even if you wanted to stop smiling, you can’t, he has such an infectious smile.

“You should watch your step, Miss,” he has his hands on his hips now, sort of berating.

“ME?” And you gesture to the coffee now sinking into the carpets.

He raises his hands defeatedly.

After you’re done cleaning up the mess, you turn to the door, glad you know who tall guy is now: a very handsome, famous rapper who comes to your book café every day!

He follows you out and you enter the security code.

As you’re walking to your car, you hear a shout of your name. You turn and see he’s still standing by the door, hands in his pocket, shy smile in place with two sweet dimples.

“Coffee, 3PM?”

You beam at him. “Coffee, 3PM.”

-

a/n: let me know what you think!

[merakiaes]

Hate You, Hate You Not - Armitage Hux

Pairing: General Armitage Hux x reader

Requested: By anon. 

Prompts: #1 & #58 from the fluff-list. 

Warnings/notes: (SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2 WITH MORE ROMANCE IN IT?) This ended up being much longer than I planned so it's most likely very boring and dull😭 Might be a bit, if not a lot, out of character since this is kinda my test-run for Hux and Star Wars in general. Getting the characters mannerisms in might take some practice. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. This is the first time ever that I write for Star Wars and the first time in like 5-6 months that I’m writing in general so I’m a bit rusty. Please reblog and leave comments to keep my motivation going and let me know if you’d like to be added to a Star Wars taglist <3 

Wordcount: 5632

Summary: One of Kylo Ren’s many tantrums results in your room being inhabitable for a night, which in turn results in you having to share a room - and bed - with the person you hate the most. 

Everyone who had ever, at some point in their lives, worked alongside Kylo Ren in his quest to bring the Order to power, knew how much of a hassle and inconvenience his temper, or lack thereof, could be.

Not much was needed for him to lose his cool and it happened on a much too frequent basis than what was considered normal for a man in his early 30s, at least according to you.

Of course, however, you couldn’t actually tell him that, nor could you think it, with the risk of him probing your mind.

So every time he came back from a failed mission and completely obliterated your hard work, you could do nothing but bite your tongue, clear your head and repair the damages like you’d done oh, so many times before.

That’s what you got for being one of the highest-ranked engineers of the Order, you supposed.

But on this day you would’ve, for the first time in your life, very much preferred to repair the damages left behind by your tantrum-prone leader like you always did. Because if that punishment had to be compared to the one you were now facing, you would’ve chosen the former without even a shadow of a doubt.

But, unfortunately, that was not an option this time around, as the room that had fallen victim to the sizzling beam of Kylo Ren’s lightsaber was your bedroom.

Well, not originally, of course, but sparks had flown from the totaled control panels and a piece of supposedly fireproof metal scrap had caught on fire before you and the other engineers reached the room for a damage-control, starting of as a small flame and then proceeding to spread like wildfire as fire did, in ways completely unbeknownst to you as, like already mentioned, the place was supposed to be safe from fires.  

The licking flames had managed to melt through several walls before you got to the scene, and one of those walls was the wall to your bedroom.

It was late when it happened, only fifteen minutes before you were supposed to end your shift, and as you were on the verge of having a mental fucking breakdown, you personally requested an audience with Kylo and were granted permission by him after a very carefully-worded explanation to start early in the morning.

But that only took care of one of your problems, and only temporarily at that. Now you were left with the issue of finding other sleeping accommodations since your room was currently not habitable. You had no choice but to ask for another room and, of course, Hux thought that to be the perfect time to crack a sarcastic joke about throwing you into one of the prisoner cells.

You had never, in all your years of being alive, glared so fiercely at another human being as you did then. And in your moment of anger, you accidentally let your walls down and let your thoughts run freely through your head – your annoyance directed at the General, but also at Kylo Ren, being exposed.

You felt it before you saw it – that little prickle in your head, that little sting of your mind being probed – and only a second later, Kylo Ren turned his masked head in your direction, walked up to you with patronizingly slow steps and spoke:

“I think you’ll find that General Hux’s quarters will suffice for the night, until repairs can be done to your own. He has more than enough space for both of you.”

He turned his head to look at the baffled man standing behind him, all of the attitude he had previously been harboring against you now completely melted away.

“Isn’t that right, General?” Kylo continued asking, giving him the time he needed to regain his composure.

The general in question had never been very good at holding his tongue, not even when receiving orders from superiors, and was quick to protest.

As anyone would’ve been able to guess, that didn’t go very well, and you weren't even gonna try hiding the satisfaction you got from seeing Hux be force-choked against a wall for speaking out of turn.

No matter how good both of you were at hiding your spiteful thoughts toward him, Kylo knew how much the two of you hated him. And more than anything, he knew how much you hated each other.

Kylo had become very predictable to you during the time you had been there and you knew his ways good enough to know that he wouldn’t have wasted petty energy in putting the two most hateful people he knew in the same room if he hadn’t been pushed to do so.

You knew that you weren’t the reason in this scenario, despite the fact that he had probably felt your spite directed towards him, which only left one option; and that option was the bitter, infuriatingly stubborn ginger currently walking by your side.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and glared, clenching and unclenching your fists at your sides in the same manner you had been doing ever since Kylo had ruled his decision final and dismissed you for the night.

His eyes remained trained on the metallic corridor that seemed to be stretched out for miles in front of you and your blood boiled at the sight.

You would’ve lost your shit if he’d had the nerve to even consider looking at you after putting you in this situation, but at the same time, you were also on the verge of losing your shit about him having the audacity to ignore you.

You wanted to scream at him like you’d never screamed at anyone before, but you knew that doing that would only fuel the petty grudge Kylo had against the two of you and give him more ways to cause you torment. The only thing you and the general would ever have in common was not wanting that.

But still, what harm could a tiny bit of friendly banter do?

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, Armitage?” The question you’d been sucking on for the past few minutes finally slipped out into the air, making your anger known.

“Don’t call me that.”

“My apologies.” You sarcastically shot back with a dry laugh. “You just couldn’t help yourself, could you, general?”

“No, it was awfully tempting.” Was all that he replied, his eyes not once flickering and neither his stone-cold scowl nor fast-paced stride faltering.

Well, you might have absolutely despised each other but in the very least, you never bothered lying to each other. That had to count for something, right? Not that either of you cared.

No more words were exchanged, and that was probably for the best. Engineers and stormtroopers all moved out of your way as the two of you marched through the corridors, side by side, knowing better at this point than to get on your bad sides when you were together and this obviously angry both with each other and in general.

Soon enough, you finally reached the corridor in which Hux’s sleeping quarters were located and once the mechanic doors slid open, you pushed yourself past him into the room before he even got the chance to react.

He fumed behind you as he watched you make yourself at home, dropping your dirty jacket on his perfectly made bed.

“You’ll take the floor, then?” You asked as you turned around, crossing your arms over your chest and shooting him a forced smile.

“Hardly.” He spat, eyes narrowing, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes in return.

“You must be a real hit with the ladies with those manners.”

At that, he stepped further into his room, allowing the sensory-triggered door to shut behind him, successfully shutting the two of you in together.

“I don’t have time for fooling around with women.” He spat out the last word with such malice that you automatically raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that explains it.” You mused, the corner of your lip tugging upwards ever so slightly.

“Explains what, exactly?” His eyes narrowed further, and this time it was his turn to cross his arms.

“That stick you have up your ass.” You wasted no time in shooting back, and before he got a chance to reply, you continued. “I know this might be news to you seeing as you’re, well, you, but gentlemen are supposed to sacrifice their comfort and offer themselves to take the floor when a lady, due to unfortunate circumstances, is forced to stay in their room.”

You sarcastically smiled at him and sank down his bed, something that he, judging by the snarl overtaking his face, didn’t appreciate.

“You, a lady? That will be the day.” He scoffed. “Even calling you a woman is a stretch with your mannerisms.”

You could only roll your eyes.

“Well, I’m not sharing a bed with you.” The glare that had temporarily been exchanged for a teasing smirk returned to your face. “I’d rather share a bed with Millicent.”

As you said that, you picked up a single strand of cat hair from his bed, held it up for further inspection and raised your lip in disgust.

He stared at you dead serious, hands clasped behind his back and eyes burning holes into the side of your face.

“You’re allergic to cats.” He pointed out, making your head whip back around to face him with a glare equally as fierce as the one you were met with.

“Yes, that’s my point.” You deadpanned. “But it would seem that said point just went right over your thick-skulled head.”

“Do you think I am any happier about this than you are?” He scowled, and you stood up, slowly approaching him and coming to a stop right in front of him.

He took a small step back, a move that made your lip tug upward ever so slightly. The fact that he was so obviously not as tough as he wanted people to believe gave you a special kind of satisfaction and he knew it, judging by the way he only turned stiffer after that.

“You should be.” You smiled sweetly at him, keeping your eyes connected to his. “Because you’re sure as hell lucky I haven’t choked the life out of you yet for getting us into this situation in the first place.”

He glared and you glared right back, challenging, no, daring him to fight back. You knew that he wanted to, you could see that he wanted to, but in the end, not even he was that stupid.

So he said nothing, and once you realized you had finally managed to successfully back him into a corner, you backed away from him again and plastered on another forced, overly sweet smile.

“Now, I need to take a shower. I reek of burnt plastic.” You stated flatly and pushed past him, making a beeline for the one extra door in the room that you could only assume was his bathroom.  

You heard the squeak of his shoes rubbing against the floor as he quickly turned around behind you, and then came the determined steps and the proximity of his body closing in on you. However, before he got the chance to object or reach you, you entered his bathroom and slammed the door shut in his face, smiling contently to yourself as you listened to the muffled string of curses that followed.

You didn’t spend any more time thinking about it, though, not wasting any time before doing what you came in there to do.

You got out of your horrid-smelling clothes, released your equally as nasty-smelling hait from its ponytail and stepped into the shower.

If there was one thing you appreciated a little extra about living at the Starkiller Base, it was that everyone used the same scented soap. Because that meant that you wouldn’t have to go around smelling specifically like Hux, but rather just like you always smelled.

Once you finished washing your hair and body, you had to stop and think for a bit.

Your clothes obviously still reeked and needed a proper wash before they could be worn again, and you obviously couldn’t go naked.

After much thought back and forth, you finally settled with your own leggings as they were the one piece of clothing from your previous attire that smelled the least of smoke, and a plain black, long-sleeved undershirt that you found in a pile of Hux’s clean laundry.

Once you vad gotten dressed, braided your hair and re-entered the bedroom accompanied by a stream of steam, you found it to be empty, Hux nowhere in sight.

You couldn’t deny that you wondered where he’d gone off to, but you shook your head free of his face pretty quickly, settling with believing that he just went to take his frustration out on some poor stormtrooper or low-rank intern like he so often did when things didn’t go his way, much like Kylo Ren beat the shit out of any control panel he could get his hands on.

While you awaited his return, you occupied yourself with going around the room and lighting the small night-lamps like you normally did in your own room before going to bed.

That obviously didn’t take long, however, so you were soon enough once again left alone with your boredom and started walking around the room, inspecting all of Hux’s belongings.

You realized pretty quickly that he was not a person to whom inanimate things had much sentimental value, as he definitely didn’t have much to his name aside from the basic interior that all of the sleeping quarters on the base had.

He had a ring on his drawer, a few books in one of his two bookshelves while the other stood empty, a small bed in a corner for his cat, clothes in his wardrobe, and that was pretty much it. He had no pictures of family, no real personal belongings that could signify any kind of emotional value.

But then again, who did in these parts?

“Is that my shirt?”

You jumped when you heard the sudden voice behind you, quickly turning around where you stood twirling the ring you had found in the light of the lamp standing beside you.

Your eyes found his form immediately, shocked meeting stern.

“Why are you wearing my shirt?” He almost instantly repeated himself when not getting a reply the first time, slowly beginning to walk in your direction with his hands clasped behind his back.

You quickly put the ring back down on the dresser and turned towards him, regaining your composure.

“Well, if you hadn’t noticed, my room and everything in it was burnt to a crisp. The smokey smell on my clothes was giving me a headache and kind of would have ruined the purpose of taking a shower so when I just so conveniently noticed a pile of clean clothes, I helped myself.” You shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, and to you, it wasn’t.

Hux, however, didn’t seem amused in the slightest.

“Yes, you seem to have a habit of thinking you’re entitled to everything you want.” He spat back at you, coming to a stop while there was still a good amount of distance between the two of you.

Any chill you had previously had melted right off and your annoyance quickly returned at the sound of his words.

“Oh, do excuse me. I just thought one headache would be enough.” You retorted and rolled your eyes, before sighing and crossing your arms over your chest. “So, how are we doing this? It’s late and I need to be up early to see to the repairs.”

“I thought that I made myself clear.” Hux was quick to scoff, his glare not faltering for as much as a second. “I’m not giving you my bed.”

Once again, all you could do was roll your eyes. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to suck it up then.” You stated flatly and sat down on the bed, wasting no time in starting to divide the pillows into two piles rather than one.

You took a few seconds to adjust the pillows to suit your needs before looking back up, eyebrow raised at the fact that he had yet to say or do anything.

Your eyes once again met his and you almost laughed out loud at the sight you were faced with, but thankfully managed to control yourself and avoid making the situation even harder than it already was.  

Long story short, Hux had never looked more horrified than he did in that moment.

He basically looked at you like you had killed his cat, and that was putting it lightly.

You took a few seconds to just enjoy watching him squirm and silently scramble to make sense of the situation, but even you knew when enough was enough and raised a questioning eyebrow at him in an attempt to get him moving.

“Well? What’s it going to be?” You asked. “It’s either this or the floor, just like it was for me.”

Hux opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it again. He obviously hadn’t been expecting you to actually agree on sharing his bed with him and now that you had, he was left at loss for words as he clearly hadn’t been preparing for anything other than you sleeping on the floor.

But after a good moment of just standing there and looking like an idiot, he finally picked himself back up, squared his shoulders and walked around the bed to the other side with frustrated strides and a snarling lip.

The feigned confidence melted right off, however, when he reached his destination and awkwardly shuffled into bed while simultaneously avoiding your amused and mocking stare, silently grabbing the extra blanket that was folded upon his bedside table.  

Both of you laid down on your backs and a heavy silence fell like a thick blanket over the room. The only sound you could hear for a few moments were each other’s breaths and your own heartbeats. For a moment, only for a microscopical moment, you were actually on your way to admit to yourself that it was kind of nice.

But that thought went flying out the window just as quickly as it had knocked on the door of your mind when Hux broke the silence by beginning to adjust himself to get ready to sleep, and in the process of doing so made the active choice to tug the pillows from right under your head.

The back of your head hit the mattress with a soft thump and you closed your eyes, your lips pulling into a straight, tight line and one, sharp breath being released through your nose as you attempted to keep your cool.

You took a moment to calm down, before you turned your head to his side of the bed where he now laid with his back to you and tugged the pillows back – maybe with a little too much force than necessary.

Hux had quickly rolled over to his other side to take them back and in anger and an eagerness to get to sleep, you exclaimed: “Stop stealing the pillows!”

He met you with a stare cold enough to have anyone else shaking in their boots and spat back. “They’re my pillows.”

You grumbled under your breath and let go of one of the two pillows, letting him pull it back to his side while you held on to the last one.

You stared at each other for a moment, both of you eventually coming to a silent, mutual agreement that you were too tired to fight and therefore he'd let you keep the pillow you were holding on to as if your life depended on it.

He, once again, laid down and turned his back to you, his hands holding on to the pillows under his head while you struggled to get comfortable again, this time with only one pillow.

“Why is your bed so damn hard?” You muttered under your breath as you angrily shoved your elbow into the mattress in an attempt to make it more comfortable – as if that was ever going to help.

“Stop complaining.” He only snapped back.

“How could I when I’m stuck in a bed with you?”

“You could’ve asked for other accommodations when you had the chance.”

“And what, be the next victim of Ren’s lightsaber?” You scoffed. “I’m the one in charge of the repairs that are needed every time he throws a wobbly. I’ve seen the kind of damage that thing can do and I’m not in any hurry to find myself at the receiving end of it.”

You muttered the last part under your breath as you finally managed to get relatively comfortable, plopping back down on your back and folding your hands over your stomach.

“How did you know I’m allergic to cats, anyway?” The question spilled out before you could stop yourself, and before you could even register that it was on the way.

Where did that even come from? Cats weren’t even close to being the subject at hand.

Hux didn’t seem to care much about the random change of subject, however, simply muttering back a reply. “You start sniffling and scratching your arms every time you’re in the same room as me for more than five minutes.”

He was clearly tired. Tired in general or just tired of you, you didn’t really know, but you guessed that it was a mixture of both since that was the case for you.

“Maybe I’m just allergic to you.” You muttered back with a shrug, even though he couldn’t see you, and he scoffed at that.

“Had that been the case I’m fairly certain it would go both ways and, unlike you, I don’t go around oozing snot everywhere I go.”

“I don’t go oozing snot everywhere.” You calmly protested, throwing the back of his head a disapproving glare before turning to lay on your side so that your back was now turned to his.

He didn’t say anything else and neither did you, sleep coming in and catching you completely by surprise and having you knocked out within the next two minutes.

When you woke up early that next morning, Hux was unsurprisingly already gone, Millicent instead laying in his place and looking right at you.

With a disgusted snarl and hesitant movements, you reached over to the other side of the bed and awkwardly patted her head twice, probably very much in the incorrect manner as you had no experience whatsoever with animals.

You got out of bed after that, put on your jacket and shoes, and wasted no time in getting to work once you’d gotten some food into your system, your team joining you in the damage-inflicted area to start on repairs like you’d done so many times before.

Everything was going fine and dandy, just a light-reckon day that started off like any other – if you didn’t count waking up in Hux’s bed with his cat – but a few hours into your workday, the unmistakable sound of Kylo Ren’s heavy steps could be heard echoing through the entire corridor you found yourself working in.

A big share of the Order’s pilots had been either killed or badly hurt a few days prior in an ambush. No one had expected any pilots to be needed for at least a few days but Kylo had gotten a sudden lead on the map that would take him to Luke Skywalker and was now walking around the base recruiting anyone capable of helping him get what he wanted.

Unfortunately for you, you were not only a highly-ranked engineer, but also a pretty decent pilot, and couldn’t say anything in protest when you were whisked away to a ship.

As anyone who wasn’t driven by an unhealthy obsession would have been able to guess, the lead was just too good to be true with a way too simple access.

Just like the last lead, this one fell through when it was revealed to be another ambush. You weren’t completely sure what happened, but over the comms, you had heard something about Leia Organa and some scavenger. 

You didn’t have time to think about retired war heroes though, no matter how much you’d love to pry and the get in on the gossip, as you had to shoot yourself through a big fleet of Resistance starfighter corps, barely getting through with your ship intact.

Your fellow pilots were shot down one by one, only a small amount of you managing to get out of there. And even then, you were met by more starfighter corps just as quickly as you’d gotten away from the last line.

Everything was just a mess after that. You weren’t able to get through to anyone over the comms, only barely being able to make out a “pull back!” before your comm system was blown to pieces along with one of your main engines.

Along with several other ships, you were forced to crash-land on a small planet filled with thick woods and when your ship collided with the ground, your head slammed into the controls, rendering you unconscious for who knows how long.

By the time you came back to it, you were hanging upside down, the only thing preventing you from falling down being the seatbelt keeping you strapped in.

You struggled to get out of there but you managed, and had to take a moment to get your surroundings to stop spinning before moving forward to look for survivors as well as a ship that wasn’t completely beyond salvation.  

You weren’t sure who you’d find, but the person you’d shared a bed with the previous night was definitely the last person you’d expect to have crashed in the same place as you. 

And still, you recognized his ship immediately. After all, you were the one who had personalized it to fit his liking.

Lucky for you, his ship seemed to have gotten a pretty soft landing. As you circled around it, you were able to determine that no major engines had been blown out. Damaged? Definitely. But they looked intact enough to at least be able to put some more distance between you and the Resistance pilots and get you to a safer place. Hopefully, the inside would be as untouched as the outside.

The ramp was lowered to the ground but didn’t look broken, so you wasted no time in jogging inside.

The lights were out completely in the entrance area, and just flickering in the ceiling when you came further in.

The first thing you noticed when you entered the piloting pit was that the pilot was not breathing. How could you tell from that far a distance? Well, let’s just say that something that was not supposed to be stuck in his eye, was stuck in his eye.

Upon further inspection, you noticed another body on the floor. However, this one was very much alive.

You would’ve expected to be met by a desperate “help me”, maybe even some begging and pleading or in the very least a “please”, but instead, even when in the process of bleeding out on the floor, Hux narrowed his eyes at you as you approached him and asked you with ragged breaths:

“Is that my shirt?”

You panted as you dropped to your knees at his side, still pretty shaken up from your own crash. “What? No.” You replied in a breath, and you wasted no time in starting to inspect his injuries.

“Yes, it is.”

“Why would I be wearing your shirt?” You asked simply, struggling to see in the dark as the flickering lights weren’t providing much assistance by means of light.

“That’s my shirt.” He kept insisting, and flinched when your hand made contact with his lower abdomen.

Only then did your eyes register the glimmering piece of metal through your blurred and disoriented vision, sticking out of his side.

You flinched at the sight, not needing any more light than you had to know that it was really bad. 

Your heart suddenly picked up in speed in your chest, and your hands began shaking as they became covered in his blood.

You had never been in the middle of the action before now, you’d always just been surrounded by metal and electricity. The most exciting thing you’d ever experienced was when a new engineer circuited a control panel the wrong way, resulting in it blowing up right by your workplace.

But it wasn’t the action in itself that had your heart about ready to burst through your chest, nor was it the blood in general, but rather the fact that it was his blood covering your hands.

His life was completely dependent on you at this moment and you had absolutely no idea how to behave accordingly.

But if there was something you knew, it was that the last thing you were supposed to do was to show a dying man your panic, so you took a deep breath and tried your hardest to steady your racing heart, going back to the conversation at hand.

“How could you tell the difference, really?” You asked. “All of our shirts look the same. All black, all equally as sufficient when used to stop blood flows.”

As you said that last part, you released another breath and ripped off a big chunk of the lower part of the shirt you were wearing.

A shirt that was, in fact, Hux's.

The man in question let his head fall back against the wall that he was propped against and his eyes squeezed shut when feeling your hands return to his side.

“Do you always wear shirts several sizes too big?” He managed to get out through clenched teeth and you replied without missing a beat.

“There was a mix-up in the laundry room.”

“So it isn’t your shirt?” He continued to be persistent and despite the seriousness of the situation, you couldn’t help but to let a small smile slip.

“Do you want to keep fighting about whether or not this shirt is mine or would you rather maybe, oh, I don’t know, focus on getting the hell out of here?” You asked him lightly and at that, he raised his head to meet your eyes with a distrusting glare.

“Why are you helping me?”

You raised your eyebrow at him, sparing just a second to meet his eyes. “You have a piece of metal stuck in your side, why the hell would I not help you?” You asked and as quickly as you had looked up, you looked back down at your hands to see what you were doing.

“You hate me, and I hate you.” He deadpanned, and you couldn’t deny you felt your heart tug in your chest.

“Who told you I hated you?” You asked, and listened as he let out a dry, struggling laugh.

“You did. On countless occasions.”

He hissed when you accidentally bumped your hand against the piece of metal. You quietly apologized but didn’t stop, knowing you didn’t have much time before the enemy would catch up with you.

“Thinking that I’m entitled to everything I want isn’t the only bad habit I have. I also have a tendency to overexaggerate.” You joked with a smile. “I do find you insufferably infuriating, though.”                                              

Another chuckle left his lips. “Likewise.” He said and dropped his head back against the wall.

You said nothing more, ripping another two pieces off of the shirt, tying them together and wrapping it around his waist like you had the first piece. You tightened this knot significantly more than the first one, though, right above the piece of metal, and just as quickly as he had relaxed, he jerked back forward with a yell.

“I need to stop the bleeding, you need to keep still.” You hurriedly scolded and sternly pushed him back down by his chest.

He muttered bitterly in return, but didn’t protest.

“I bet you’re enjoying this.” He seethed, and you raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Whenever I’m feeling down, I just think back to the multiple times I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing you being force-thrown across a room by Ren. Puts a smile on my face every time. But that doesn’t automatically mean I want you to die. So stop wallowing in your internalized self-hatred and put your hand over mine.” You told him, trying your hardest to keep a lighthearted attitude, more so for your own sake than his at this point as you were literally about to pass out.

But he did as told, contributing with the strength he had left when you got to your feet and started pulling him up and into one of the seats that were still intact.

He put a trembling hand over yours and in turn, you put your other one over his and pushed down. He hissed and you gave him a moment to adjust, and when you were sure he was pressing hard enough with his own hand, you slowly removed both of yours and fastened his seatbelt.

“Keep pressure and hold on tight. This is most likely going to be a rough ride.” You warned him, and he slowly looked up at you through a mess of ginger hair.

“It can’t be any worse than the ride here.” He retorted and you nodded, taking that as a “go ahead”.

You wasted no time in getting into the pilot’s seat after pulling the previous pilot out, as well as the thick tree branch on which his head had been impaled, and started up the controls. It took a few tries to get out of the hole the ship hade gotten stuck in when crashing, but soon enough you were up in the sky.

With a bit of dumb luck, you eventually reached your destination and got brought back in to the base by your team of fellow engineers, all ready to repair the wrecked ship.

Hux was immediately taken to the medical bay while you stayed behind to help with the ships, and from two ends of the base, the two of you silently and separately came to realize that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t hate each other as much as you thought, after all.

[writtenonreceipts]

a prompt?

single parent trope for feysand, pretty please?

more prompts for this would be great, otherwise you get my rambling mind and we all know how that goes...

Find my main masterlist here

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An Intimate Display of Insecurities and Hopelessness

The air-conditioning was out.  Again.  And Feyre had already stripped down to a tank-top and shorts.  The heat was miserable.  

“Sweet mercy,” she muttered as she stood in front of the large fan she’d bought yesterday to try and keep things cool.  It wasn’t working.

Feyre brushed her hair from her sweaty brow and bit back a curse.  This day was not going at all the way she’d wanted it to.  It had taken her far to long to get anything started, not to mention coordinating with Elain on how she wanted to participate in the shop.

It was only three days to her deadline to get her shop up and running.  Three days to get pallets made, canvases designed, and interior design finished.  All in one-hundred-degree weather and boob sweat.

She turned back to the mess of her shop.  This was going to take more work than she had time for.  Or sanity.

The front door opened behind her with a clatter.  Feyre wasn’t that concerned about it, knowing she was getting some things delivered.

“Just leave the deliveries on the floor,” she said, not looking back.  She was trying to have a vision of what she was going to accomplish, a vision that would be epic and glorious.

“Excuse me?” 

Feyre spun at the smooth voice and nearly stumbled.  The most attractive man she’d ever seen was standing in her shop.  His black pants were crisp and cleanly lined and his black shirt was rolled up to the elbows, displaying his tanned skin.  He was tall, lean, and with his black hair swept neatly back.

Feyre felt sweat roll between her breasts.  Oh hell.

“Feyre Archeron?” He asked and took a step forward while holding out his hand. “Rhysand Avitas.  I’m the new building manager.”

A dozen curses ran through her head as she did her best to wipe her sweaty hand on her shorts inconspicuously.  Because of course she knew who Rhysand Avitas was.  Everyone in their small town did.  He was the son of the police chief and now the youngest elected mayor in Valeris history.

He had also been just a year ahead of Feyre in school.  So she knew the kind of person her was.  At least, she thought she did.

“Rhysand, of course,” she said as she took his hand. The heat didn’t seem to effecting him.  Jackass. “Sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

Indeed, it was half-past two right when she’d told his assistant that he could come by the shop.  And see that everything was in order for her opening deadline.  Except she hadn’t really expected him to show up.  

“Not a problem.” He smiled in such a charming way that Feyre found herself wanting to hate him.

But Feyre already did hate him.  He had bought the building just two days after her father’s death.  Just two days after the building was up for sale.  She hadn’t even had the time to get funds together to convince the bank that she could buy the lease herself.  Now, she was going to have to open her shop under him.

In school he had been captain of the football team, president of the ASB club.  He had been the kind of person Feyre had never wanted to interact with.  High and mighty, proud and cruel.  He’d worn a mask of indifference to anyone beneath him, she was convinced.

Feyre cleared her throat. “Things are a little messy right now, but it’ll be ready for opening day on Monday.”

Rhysand nodded as he walked around the shop.  Bits of wood crunched under his too fancy shoes and dust clung to his pants when he brushed up against one of the pallets that Feyre was still trying to decide how to convert into a display case.

“You’re a painter, correct?” he asked.  He looked over his shoulder at her and Feyre was taken aback by his eyes.  Bright blue—so bright that she could have sworn they were violet.  And damn her if she didn’t want to at least try and draw them.

“Yes,” she replied. “My sister does some gardening and does floral arrangements and I’m planning on having her sell some of her work here as well.”

“I remember,” he said, “Mrs. Ellis always made sure all of her classes knew about her protegee.”

Feyre rolled her eyes.  The high school art teacher had been someone no one really liked.  Aside from her.  Maybe it was just because Feyre had wanted someone to pay attention to her, but the woman had always been nice to Feyre.

“My work wasn’t that good back then,” she said.  And it was true, it had taken years of study and experimentation to get to where she was now.  Ten years after those miserable high school years and here she was, finally maybe a little bit confident with what she could do.

Rhysand said nothing, only observed.  “And you’re sure you’ll be ready by Monday?  No offense Miss Archeron, but it seems like a lot needs to be taken care of.  You assured the bank, and my assistant, that your shop was worth allowing in the complex.”

Feyre’s mouth pursed as she watched his man before her.  With his impeccable clothing, that silver watch on his wrist, it was hard to imagine that he’d had any hardships in his life.

“Yes, and I keep my word,” she said, her voice cold enough to rival any a/c.  “What I would like to know is why the air conditioning still isn’t fixed.  It’s been this way for a week now.”

“It’s being looked into,” Rhysand said. 

His gaze turned sharp as he looked her over again.  Something passed over his face that Feyre didn’t care to try and understand.  She just wanted this man out of her shop so she could get back to work.

“Was there something in specific that you wanted to discuss?” she asked, “or were just interested in questioning my ability to run a shop?”

He smirked at her and shook his head. “You always did have that fire in you, didn’t you?”

Feyre was ready to tell him to get out when a soft cry caught her attention.  She held up a finger to silence him as she listened.  Maybe she’d imagined it.  Hell, she hoped he’d imagined it.  Unfortunately the cry came again.

“Just a minute,” she said.

She hurried to the back of the shop where a door led into what would be used for the breakroom.  It was a few degrees cooler back there, which was why she’d set it up for it’s current use.

Sitting up in the pack-and-play was her daughter.  Seren with her golden hair and large blue eyes looked up at her and cried again.

“Momma!” 

Immediately, Feyre scooped her daughter up.  Seren latched on with a snake-like grip.  Her arms wound around Feyre’s neck tightly.

“Hi baby,” Feyre murmured.  “Why are you awake?”

It had only been a half hour since Feyre’d put her down, she’d been hoping for at least one hour of uninterrupted work.

Seren said nothing and only whimpered into Feyre’s neck.  As Feyre whispered to her daughter to sooth her, she went back out into the main part of the store to find the diaper bag she’d packed that morning.  In one of the insulated pockets, she found a bottle of apple juice.

“Here, honey,” Feyre said.  Seren snatched the bottle and began drinking, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Okay, there we go.  Momma need to talk to Mr. Avitas okay, can you let me do that?”

Seren nodded and the almost two-year-old tucked herself right against Feyre’s neck.

Pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, Feyre turned back to Rhysand who stood right where she’d left him.  The hard look in his eyes was gone and whatever hard-ass talk he was no doubt going to deliver evaporated.

“It seems I was wrong,” Rhysand said, “you do have some help, don’t you?”

Seren wiggled in Feyre’s arms to get a better look at the man, her bottle sticking in one cheek.

“Momma,” Seren said, her voice just slightly muffled.

“Yes, you are my big helper,” Feyre agreed, “even when you get into my paints.”

Seren beamed up at her. “I help.”

Feyre snorted a bit of laughter.  Help.  Sure.  There were some painted handprints on the wall that aid otherwise.

“Did you have any other concerns you needed to address, Mr. Avitas?” Feyre asked.

He seemed so taken aback that Feyre had had her daughter in the back room napping that it took him a moment to speak again.  It would have been amusing if the man hadn’t been so annoying to begin with.

“She looks just like you,” Rhysand said.

That was the last thing Feyre’d expected.  She quirked a brow at the man.  She knew it was true.  Seren, thank the heavens, looked like an Archeron.  There was barely a trace of her father.  Something Feyre would give thanks for every day.

Feyre heart gave a painful squeeze.  Of course that was what he meant.

She met his gaze, holding it for a long moment.  Her hold on Seren tightened automatically, something she always did when she remembered her baby’s father. 

“Yes, she does,” she whispered.  Feyre wondered what Rhysand could possibly know.  When she’d moved back to Valeris two years ago, just after she’d found out she was pregnant, she scrubbed her life clean of that man.  Rhysand couldn’t possibly know who the father was.  Even if he did, he shouldn’t care.

“Right,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. Once again, an un definable look flashed over his features, and disappeared just as quickly.  “I’ll see what I can do about the air-conditioning.”

“Good,” Feyre said, “I’d hate to have to delay opening.”

And much to her surprise, Rhysand laughed.  “Of course not.  That would be rather inconvenient, wouldn’t it?”

He turned back to the door and looked as though he would leave without saying anything else, until he paused. He seemed to be having an internal dilemma when he looked back to Feyre.

“If there is anything I can help with, let me know.”

The words were halting and careful.  Feyre wasn’t sure how to read them, how to respond.  So she only nodded.

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i wanted to add more to this for the first part, but well here we are...

tags

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