#I did have the classic experience though where your friends disappear and you end up alone because you don't know where they went

[neverendingford]

.

[marthawrites]

A Game of Chase

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 5.7k+

Can be read as a stand alone, but reads best as pt 2 to Pretty Girl

About: You and your best friend go out to a local event. While there, Aemond, surprisingly, makes an appearance. With quick wit you pretend like it's your first time meeting. Equally quick and curious, he plays along. A game of chase ends up with some unexpected aftershocks.

Includes: About half plot and porn. Explicit sexual content! Rough!Aemond with themes of jealousy, possessiveness, and obsession. Sexual/tension, fingering, blowjob, p in v, and a sweet ending.

Note: Hello lovely reader! I had to return to this AU - just had to! One day I will learn to not be a wordy bitch but today is not that day. Reader is nondescript and implied to be 21+ due to alcohol consumption. As always, it is my highest hope that you enjoy this story! ♥

-

The city below sparked with life in every corner and lane. You leaned on the balcony's railing and looked over the last remains of sunset: spilled watercolors across a slowly dimming sky. As the last rays of sun disappeared, spring's chill swirled through the air making you wish you wore a jacket over your black evening dress. 

"Christ. If we're out here any longer my nipples are gonna jab through this dress," your best friend, Rebecca, said with a noticeable shiver. "Shit, girl! Let's go inside." She hooked an arm through yours and turned to guide you both inside where it was much warmer. She looked gorgeous tonight in a mauve dress, silver heels, and silver jewelry. It all accented the lovely hue of her hair and skin; strands of hair loose to frame her classic face. Her seemingly effortless femininity always had you jealous. She was much more "girly girl" than you, and you relied on her often.

"No leather jackets and no jeans! And oh my God none of your combat boots! This is a formal event. Not one of your creepy bonfire circles with gas station beer." Rebecca had told you earlier with a dramatic roll of her eyes, humor clear on her face. "Who knows. Maybe you'll find someone to put your last hook up to shame," she winked.

There was no way you weren't going to tell her about Aemond. Except, much to her dismay, you didn't tell her tell her; just the bare bones of it. You met a guy through work, hit it off, and ended up getting laid after he took you out. 

She wanted the deets. You were keeping your mouth shut. She hated you. 

You didn't even mention his name! With it being unique you knew she'd do some serious digging – and you already did. Local cryptids had a bigger digital footprint than him. Considering the day and age, maybe it should have been a red flag… Bec wouldn't let you live that down.

"Will you shut up about that?" You laughed. "Okay okay. I'll skip my favorite jacket and boots too. Only, and only, because I just got a fresh pedi. You can take my lipstick and eyeliner out of my cold dead hands though," you threatened.

"Those are your trademarks and we both know it. Besides, you look hot with it. Black dress and… black heels too. Your strappy ones!" You let her pick your outfit. When it was time to leave you looked good.

Bec was the only person who could play with you like a human barbie. You two went through high school together – and all the awkwardness that brought – and even college. You'd been through thick and thin and you loved her more than anyone else. You two even used each other to learn how to kiss. A truly fun and silly experience in hindsight.

This event happened twice a year. Music was huge in the area. More specifically, classic music. The university had one of the best programs in the country and was widely respected for it. At a young age your love for the violin blossomed into something truly spectacular. While it fell to the back burner during college, it remained a cherished hobby. Bec's skill was her voice. It earned her lead soprano. She was ethereal. Listening to her in the choir – whether part of the group, doing a solo, or singing with any of the other leads – was something to behold.

"I'm so glad you were able to come out tonight. It just wouldn't be the same without you," you told her as you both walked away from the bar with drinks in hand.

"Trust. I wouldn't miss it. Hubs can handle things for one night," she laughed even as her eyes rolled in feigned annoyance. She smirked and sipped her beverage.

Everyone seemed to be dressed in their finest. Dresses, suits, and glittering jewelry sparkled beneath the ornate lighting. Various perfumes and colognes hung in the air to create an atmosphere of intimacy. Some of the attendees looked young enough to have just graduated high school while others were grayed and wrinkled with time. The common thread of everyone was their love for music. It was truly a treat.

"I'm constantly shocked at how young the freshmen look every year. Look at them. Babies!" You exclaimed, tilting your head in the direction of a small group of friends who probably couldn't even buy alcohol yet. It prompted you to your drink; an accidental gulp instead of a sip.

In the theme of the event, music played over the speakers which seemed to bring everyone closer.

You two made your way to a bar table by the facade window. The soft lighting and twinkling accents brought out a pink in both of your cheeks that only fine liquor could coax.

"I wish you'd tell me more about your mystery man! Honestly I'm starting to think it was that cute coworker of yours who I like to make eyes at. He's a blusher! You know you could tell me if it was him, right?" She teased you easily.

You gasped. "Oh, wow! You truly have so little faith in me? I wouldn't hook up with your boyfriend," you laughed, unable to keep your mock shock up for long. "You know, it's starting to be more fun holding this over your head than actually giving you all the dirty details." You chased the thin straw of your drink, flashing her a tauntingly playful expression.

She'd just opened her mouth to retort when something else caught her attention. "Oh my God no way," she slammed her free hand atop the table in surprise. "I didn't think he'd come! Here I thought he was way too cool and too busy to make an appearance."

You snorted a laugh as Bec started waving an arm to beckon him over. "Another boyfriend? Sheesh." You teased. She was happily married and you only liked to flick her shit.

"Hey! Yeah, you! I'm so glad you came. Come over here and meet my girl. Y/N, this is Aemond. Aemond, this is Y/N."

Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

Bec kept talking, explaining how she knew both of you. You, her best friend since high school. Him, a piano enthusiast who'd taken the university's classes multiple times purely for pleasure. Her voice droned. You heard none of it. Not with Aemond standing there, hand in one of his pockets, drink in the other, looking like that.

Was it even legal for a man to look so fucking good? He looked absolutely stunning. The three-piece suit he donned had to be specially tailored for him because there was no way a regular suit could fit him like that. Black, charcoal, and deep green; it made his naturally silver-white hair and fair skin all the more stark. The subtle pinstripes of his pants and coat elongated his already tall frame, and the tip of his pointed shoes were in a single direction: you.

With Bec introducing, you had fleeting seconds to decide how you'd react to this. "Aemond," you said his name like it was the first time you'd tested it on your tongue. "Nice to meet you.” You sipped to hide smirking lips. Quiet mischief danced behind your eyes. ‘Play with me,’ they said. ‘You feeling it?’ they taunted.

“Hmm,” Aemond hummed while looking over you like he might have recognized you from somewhere. “I thought perhaps we had a class together. But, I don’t think so. Those aren’t pianist hands,” he said, tiny dimples betraying his restrained smirk.

“Ha!” Bec all but snorted. “No. No no no. She does not. She’s a ranger of our lovely national park and she plays the fiddle for Bigfoot.”

Aemond blinked, taken back.

“What the hell, Bec!” You blushed, embarrassment waving up in you like a tide. “You can’t just go telling people that all willy-nilly!” Despite the embarrassment, you laughed, as did Rebecca, and some of the palpable tension between you and Aemond melted. Perhaps she’d done you two tricksters more of a favor than you realized.

“This is Bigfoot country, is it not? I’m into cryptids,” Aemond replied smoothly. “Wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it tonight. But, now I’m glad I did,” he added in that same tone, taking an extra moment to glance over you appreciatively. “Becca’s hard to miss, but it was you who called me over here from across the floor.”

You arched a brow at his forwardness. “Wow. Uhm… I didn’t notice you at all,” you quipped cheekily before taking the last swill of your beverage.

Bec rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, Aemond. You’re gonna have to try harder than that. My girl here isn’t quite so easy.”

A genuine smile flashed across his features to brighten his eye. “Right. I’ll have to try harder for that one,” he said amusingly.

“Well. I feel a second one calling my name. Catch you later, Becs,” you said before turning, doing your absolute best (and somehow succeeding) to not flick another glance to the Targaryen tech giant who stood tall and wonderfully imposing next to your best friend. Would he still smell like clean laundry as he did the last time you two were together? Or would he perhaps carry the faintest aromas of shared perfumes, cigarette smoke, and cool night spring air? You dared not glance over your shoulder. You couldn’t be certain, but you swore his gaze trailed after you until you disappeared into the crowd.

An hour passed and you didn’t see either of them. The crowd was growing looser; people mingled like old friends. Karaoke replaced the overhead music and with it brought a fresh batch of excitement and silliness. The entire vibe of the place slowly shifted and you found yourself happily chatting with strangers like they were long lost college, or even high school, friends. 

It was during that occasion you finally caught sight of him again. You were buzzed – happy – talking to a dark haired man with a dazzling smile. Each time he did his entire face lit up and sent the corners of his eyes crinkling. He was playing the charm game very well. If you didn’t already have secret plans to leave with Aemond, he very well might have talked you out of your pretty black dress. Aemond didn’t know that, of course, and when you could still see him at the edge of your peripheral you knew the little game just went up a notch.

Another hour passed in the blink of an eye. Bec had to leave – turns out her hubs couldn’t handle everything on his own for a night. The dark-haired man, while attractive and sweet, wasn’t what you had in mind. Once you finally managed to slide away from him you sat at the bar. You’d been standing most of the night and your feet were starting to ache in the heels you rarely wore. The bartender handed you your final drink for the night. You sat alone. Relaxed. Content to people watch as the event resembled more of a high-end bar at this hour.

Again, from the corner of your eye, you saw Aemond linger just there. Just at the edge of your vision. Playing. Teasing – a silent stalk. However, you pretended like you didn’t. You slowly traced the rim of your glass, attention elsewhere. With one leg crossed over the other you leisurely bounced your foot at the ankle, the heel of your shoe tapping against the heel of your foot. Quiet. Confident. Even if Aemond hadn't already known you he would have been drawn to you. It was the tiny knowing smirk at the outermost edge of your mouth that really called to him. ‘I see you,’ it said. ‘What are you going to do?’ it purred.

“Is this seat taken?” Aemond’s smooth voice came from beside you.

With a shake of your head you answered, “it wasn’t. But I think it is now.” Your pretty eyes lingered over him and you just now noticed the three headed dragon tassel he wore on his collar. The buttons of his cuffs were the same three headed dragon. Half of his hair was pulled back and secured into a bun at the back of his head, and you wanted nothing more than to loosen it and let the strands fall over your hand. 

“Good,” he all but purred, leaning in a little closer than was truly necessary. “Hm… I don’t know what it is about you, pretty girl, but there’s something about you that keeps pulling me in.”

“Bold of you to say to someone you’ve just met,” you replied through a laugh, giving him a sly side glance from beneath your lashes.

“Perhaps,” he said quickly, leaning on the bar as he stood between you and the empty stool at your side. “But, I think you’ve been eyeing me all night too. Unable to truly lose track of me in this crowd,” his voice was a low rumble and it sent a shudder of excitement all up and down your spine.

“What makes you think that? This is the first time I’ve seen you since Bec introduced us. Honestly, I thought you left.”

He chuffed amusedly. “Sure, okay,” he started. “Is that why you can’t quite look me in the eyes? Or why you let that man paw all over you once you knew I was there? Or… why you only came here once it was empty and I was there?” He tilted his head slightly, just slight, as he spoke; smug condescendence angled his jaw.

It took everything you had to steady the excitement in your voice. “You’re very observant, Aemond,” his name dripped like honey from your tongue. “What do you plan to do with all those observations, hm?”

“Lots,” he answered lowly, triumphantly. “Let’s get out of here.”

Giddiness bubbled up from your core. Before you could stop yourself, you answered, “no. I don’t think so.” The change of his expression filled you with victory. This was your game and you were still playing by your own rules even if that meant making them up as you went. “Here is my offer, Mr. Targaryen. I’m leaving. You will give me your number and if I’m feeling up to it, I’ll text you my address.” The pupil of his good eye expanded; black swallowing violet. You wanted to cheer. He wasn’t expecting this, you thought. “Take it or leave it. If you leave it… I have another number to fall back on.”

“Give me your phone,” he said, posture and jaw tight. You did. He tapped his thumbs a few times on the screen before handing it back. 

As soon as you had your phone back you stood. “That’s what I thought,” you told him softly, smugly, not giving him a chance to reply before walking towards the exit.

Game over. You won.

Truthfully you would have left with him immediately, but your house was a mess and you weren't going to invite him over to this. It took perhaps twenty minutes to give the entry way, living room, and kitchen a quick clean sweep. From there, it took maybe half the time to shove everything out of place in your bedroom in your closet. You’d properly tidy later. But now? No. The only thing on your mind was the look on Aemond’s face when you laid out your terms for the night.

You texted him your address and nothing else. Now, it was your turn to wait.

Barely ten minutes passed before a knock sounded at your door. Peeking out from behind a curtain you saw it was Aemond. A secret smile plastered on your face and you wondered what he’d been doing for the last half hour. It took at least fifteen minutes to get to the event hall, so he must have already been out driving in the general direction. Either that, or, he broke every traffic rule to get to you in record time. You opened the door only to be shoved back inside, door slamming closed behind both of you. A sound between a gasp and strangled moan broke from you beneath his kiss as his hands were all all over you at once; sliding, groping, pressing.

“Did you have fun with your little game?” He asked hot against your mouth. You were trapped between the back of your couch and his looming form. The furniture was the first thing to get in the way of your eager bodies.

Your breath shuddered, chest rising and falling above the black neckline of your dress. “Aemond,” you managed to whisper hoarsely. Nothing else formed on your tongue before it was against Aemond’s for a second time.

“I could have had that entire fucking hall dismissed in an instant. You know that, right?” You didn’t ask how or why because you didn’t fucking care. Not now. Not with his mouth on yours, and his hands squeezing your hips and waist, his thigh between your legs. “And then you force me to stalk you around the crowd. Watch you flirt so easily with other men. Watch weaker men stare after you like sniveling piglets.” His teeth sunk into your neck until you yelped, body squirming against his.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, head buzzing with a hundred different things all at once. Heat flooded your core. Thrill webbed throughout all your senses until you were keenly aware of even the tips of your fingers, toes, and ears. He bit again, softer this time, making his way down the length of your neck to your collarbone. “I didn’t think you’d play along for as long as you did,” you simpered, hands rubbing up the sides of his smooth face until your fingers were tangled in his silken hair.

Both his hands pressed up your ribs until the weight of your breasts sat upon them. You couldn’t see from your angle, but he was biting and sucking little hickeys all down your skin. “Do you think that dark-haired man would have tried as hard as he did… pathetic, really… if you were already marked by my teeth, hm?” As if to make his point even clearer, he drew in a mouthful of your soft cleavage and worked it until you yelped, forcefully pulling his head back with a wet pop. A dark bruise was already forming; the deepest one yet.

“What the hell? You’re fucking crazy,” you moaned, breathlessly looking down at him, arousal turning your blood to fire. “Is that what this is about? Me flirting with that guy?” Your face bloomed with heat.

“If I knew you were going to be there you’d have been on my arm the whole night. Fun as it was, pretty girl, I wanted to gouge the eyes out of every man who looked at you for too long.” He was hard inside his pants, painfully trapped inside the confines of the fine material.

Aemond didn’t strike you as the possessive type. It shocked you. Even scared you a little. “Holy shit, Aem,” you said, trying to catch your breath from the assault of his hands, mouth, and intentions. “I just thought we were having fun. With you only being here for a visit I didn’t think it was anything serious, ya know? Fuck.” Your hands fell from his hair to instead push yours back.

“At first I thought so too,” he replied, voice and body language softer now. “I was immediately drawn to you. As soon as you opened the door at your ranger cabin in your dorky uniform...,” he kissed you again, gentle and easy. He felt you melt into and against him. “Distance doesn’t matter to me. In another time my family would be kings,” he smirked, holding your face between his hands to read it.

“If you are a king or a prince –” you teased, playfully mocking the old timey titles, “ – then let me be your queen or your princess.” Your hands trailed down the sides of his biceps, across the front of his chest, down the plane of his abdomen. His intensity could surely frighten other women away, but you found yourself drawn to it. A fire burned beneath his skin and you wanted nothing more than to feel its heat against your own.

Aemond read you well, eyes squinting down at you as you traced and caressed over his clothed form. Something in his gaze shifted, then. A game of his own, you recognized.

His turn.

“Would he have been able to excite you like this?” Your dress had bunched up high around your thighs and he took full advantage of it. With his question he trailed the tips of his fingers over the front of your clothed cunt. Your warmth tingled his fingertips. “Could he have gotten this pussy so wet?” He asked, slipping his touch beneath the front of your panties to your bare folds. “Hm?” He inquired, the pads of two easily sliding up your slit and to your clit where he rubbed small, firm circles. You were soaked.

You jolted, legs tightening. “Aem…,” you warbled, back arching. Your body was desperate for him. One of your hands lowered to the wrist he was using to tease you, eyes looking up at him in a silent plea. “No,” you answered. “He couldn’t.” You squeezed your hand around his wrist, then, urging his fingers to slide into you.

A satisfied growl rumbled in his throat at the combination of your admission and grip. “I didn’t think so…,” he cooed, following your touch as he pushed a long slender finger into your body. “I missed this pussy,” he admitted, bending his head to catch your pleased sigh in a kiss. He swirled and pressed along your walls, reveling in the way you felt around him and the muffled sounds you made.

By now your alcohol buzz was gone and you were entirely drunk on Aemond. He spun you in a whirlwind and you were at his mercy. It was when he pushed a second finger into you that you broke the kiss, unable to hold back the moan he pulled from you. “They feel so good…,” Aemond-drunk and pleasure-drunk; the night was just beginning.

“There,” he said as your eyes fluttered and struggled to stay even half open. “Cum on these fingers so we can take this pretty dress off.” He pumped both in and out of you with added fervor, now, relishing just how fucking wet you were. There was no denying or hiding the sloppy little sounds that came from between your thighs. Those, mixed with your continued pleasured whimpers, made for a delicious melody that made Aemond’s cock throb.

“O-oh..! Right there, just like that! Please…,” you whispered as if in prayer. Your hand squeezed tighter around his wrist as he fucked his fingers into you at that same wonderful angle and pace. Even without your pleas he could tell you were close. Your cunt squeezed around him a little tighter, hips squirming, grinding down on his hand for added pressure. You dipped your head into his chest, hips rolling with his pace, and it was when he squeezed a third inside you that you absolutely lost it. Orgasm washed over you in lovely waves of bliss. You trembled; walls clamped around him rhythmically. You panted. Blissed out and ready for another.

As soon as you came down from your natural high Aemond helped you out of your clothes. Dress, bra, panties. They were all tossed aside somewhere in your living room.

Then, it was your turn to help him out of his own clothing. “Fuck, you have beautiful tits,” he said as he stood in front of you in only his briefs. He bent down to lick and kiss over them appreciatively, holding the soft mounds in his hands. 

You giggled at the tickling sensation it gave your sensitive skin. “My room is down this way,” you said with a tilt of your head, taking his hand and leading him through the kitchen, down a short hallway, and into your room. It was only illuminated by an essential oil diffuser which glowed with a soft pink. It steadily misted with a heady mix of oils. 

Once there it was your turn to have your hands all over him. You trailed along every bit of him that you could. From his shoulders, to his arms, across the patch of hair along the center of his chest, and down his lean abdomen, until your fingers hooked beneath the hem of his briefs. You pushed him further into your room until the backs of his legs hit the outside of your bed. 

Sitting on the edge he pulled you to him by your waist, coaxing you to stand between his parted legs. He unabashedly bit into the meat of your hip. One of his hands reached behind you to squeeze your asscheek, giving it a firm smack. 

You jumped at the combination, goosebumps racing to the top of your skin. "My turn to make you feel good…," you grinned, tugging the bun at the back of his head so he was forced to look up at you. "How dare you look so fucking good in a suit. It's really not even fair. Pinstripes, really? And your three headed dragons? It should be me who is green with jealousy over all the women who were checking you out."

Whether you were merely teasing or being wholly serious, Aemond didn't care. You had taken control of the flow once again. He let you have it, let you hold onto the reins if only for a moment. He loved seeing you like this. The faintest hint of pink shone in his cheeks at your compliment.

Releasing his hair you sunk down to your knees. You kissed the flat of his abdomen, beneath his navel, nipping the skin there as your hands pulled the front of his briefs down. He groaned in relief when his cock finally sprang free. Too long had it been solid and trapped; the generous size of him aching to be released for longer than he cared to admit. "So big…," you praised, idly stroking him as you looked up at him.

Seeing you so eager on your knees snapped something in him, and any chance of playing nice broke as soon as your warm tongue swiped along the underside of his shaft. "That's right," he muttered through a pleased groan. "It's like you forgot how fucking good this cock made you feel. Making me play along with your silly game," he tutted, seizing a handful of your hair in his fist. "Parading around like you weren't already mine…," his voice dark, dangerous. "You need to be reminded, pretty girl. Of whose you are, and of how good only my cock can make you feel."

Your belly flipped at the change of his demeanor. The way his eye pulled you into the void of its blackness. You looked up at him like the little doe you were. With his help, and in a single shared motion, you raked his undergarment down his legs to throw it aside. His hand was still knotted in your hair and, using that, he pulled your mouth to his cock until he hit your gag reflex.

Instantly you choked. He fucking groaned as your throat constricted around him. Saliva pooled in your mouth. Your hands gripped over his thighs, fingernails digging into the lean muscle there. He lifted your head up only to do it once more; slower, more deliberate, savoring the sensation of your mouth around him for the first time. And a third time, too. After a moment both his hands lifted your head off him, smiling softly. It wasn't what you expected. It was the gentlest he'd been since arriving. "Too much? Or are you okay?"

It was the sincerity in which he spoke that made you want to slap him, kiss him, and jump on him. All at once. Instead of any of those, you laughed. You wiped away some smeared mascara from under your eyes and nodded, unable to stop laughing. "Surprising, yeah. But, I'm okay. Thanks for checking."

He smirked. That asshole. "Good," he replied, leaning back on one hand while spreading his legs wider apart. "You don't have to be easy with me."

You didn't have anything to say, simply scooted closer into him and looked up at him with those big doe eyes smeared with the night's makeup. You took him in your mouth once again – on your own terms this time. His hand rested lightly at the back of your head in an attempt to keep your hair from falling in your face. You sucked more of him in, then pulled back, plunging forward once again to swallow yet even more of his length.

A truly delectable groan rumbled out from Aemond's throat. He couldn't help it. Your mouth felt so fucking good. He looked down at you, glaring, while a pleasured grin spread across his face; the black of his eye making it all the more lecherous. "Fuck. 'M not gonna last long if you keep doing that."

"Good," you shot back in the same manner of his. "You deserve to cum for playing my silly little game." You didn't go easy on him. Lewd glugs and hot pants filled your room; his hisses and gasps accented the depravity. Saliva drooled helplessly from your mouth and made it all the more sloppy. When your hand moved to cup and massage along his balls you were surprised to feel those already coated in your saliva.

"I'm close… gonna be good and swallow me whole?" He moaned, length somehow getting even fucking harder if that was even possible.

You weren't stopping to say anything back. Your other hand gripped onto whatever wasn't in your mouth and stroked along him firmly, still rolling his sack in your other. He took that as a yes.

The would-be Targaryen prince erupted down your throat with a string of muttered curses and praises. His lean body flexed and shuddered, toes twitching and curling as he rode the waves of climax. His hand had never clenched your hair again, yet it fell heavily like it was tired from holding a fist. "Christ, woman," he breathed, glowing. 

You stood and wiped the back of your hand across your mouth. "Yeah," you replied dreamily as you plopped onto your back atop the bed; grinning like the sloppy blowjob gave you as much pleasure as it did him. Or, perhaps it was merely pride.

Both of you stayed like that for a minute – catching your breath. He rolled over. Those slim hips fit easily between your thighs as his hands planted heavily beside your head. A sly grin graced his chiseled features.

"You're already hard again?"

"Can't help it, pretty girl. You're too sexy," he answered, lining himself up with your eager opening. He wasted little time in pushing into you, hissing at the sensation. "God you're so fucking wet from sucking me off."

The stretch of your body around his girth stole your breath. He stilled to let your walls accommodate his size. "You're right. How could I have forgotten how good this cock makes me feel?" You whined up at him, spine arching beneath him tantalizingly. You were more than slick enough for his intrusion, and now you were full. Absolutely full of him. Slowly, he pulled out. Easily, he pushed back in. Your breath turned ragged and quick, lovely pressure building in your core until it moaned out of your red-smeared lips. "Shit, yes," you whimpered, nails digging into his back.

Leaning up, Aemond grabbed both of your ankles in a single hand and threw them over a shoulder. The new angle sent him railing toward your belly button. His cockhead dragged against that deep, deliciously sensitive spot, over and over, your pussy hot and perfect for his ravaging. "Taking me sooo well…," he praised between slapping skin and your cries of bliss. The palm of his free hand pushed down and splayed wide over your low belly; claiming and intensifying your pleasure.

The added pressure sent fire blazing through your senses. Orgasm consumed you quickly and harshly, and you squeezed the sheets in tight fists as he fucked you through it. The edge of your vision blurred with ecstasy.

"Fuck, yes," Aemond panted, sweat glistening on his brow. "Feel so fuckin' good squeezing me like that." His length harded like iron yet again, balls tightening in preparation for a second release. His pace grew sloppier as he chased his high.

"Fill me up, Aem," you cooed up at him, nodding fervently. "Do it, fill me up." Your voice broke off into syllables and mutters, eyes desperate.

Hearing that was all he needed. He twitched inside you, spilling ropes of his seed deep and shallow alike inside your greedy cunt. Finally, with his firm chest heaving, he let go of your ankles and eased out of you. He flopped onto his back beside you, grinning like a fool. "Alright, babe, you're on water and cleaning duty this time."

You giggled. Actually giggled. "In a minute." You laid on your side and cuddled against him, laying your head on his chest – his heart thumping powerfully below your cheek. A contented silence settled over both of you. He stroked your hair, and you his torso. Once his pulse calmed you leaned up and smiled at him. "That was seriously amazing, the fuck?" you said with a satisfied blush. On your dresser was a pile of clean washcloths you forgot to put away. You used one on yourself and tossed another to Aemond. "Be right back." You put on a new t-shirt and underwear before leaving.

When you came back with water and snacks, Aemond was already browsing through your Netflix. "It's all murder docs and shitty reality tv," he teased.

"Oh shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes. "Here I brought you snacks and you're talking shit."

"Thanks," he said appreciatively. When you laid by him it was his turn to cuddle into you. 

Eventually you decided on a horror movie neither of you had seen but agreed looked either really good or hilariously bad.

He stayed the night, and there may or may not have been a third round before sleep finally settled over your pleasantly exhausted bodies.

-

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider a follow and reblog as I have plans to create and share more writings ♥

here is my masterlist

taglist: @melsunshine  @iiamthehybrid  @arcielee  @nina2697 @darylandbethfanforever9 @sahvlren @targaryenbrainrot @bellaisasleep @watercolorskyy @ruby-dragon @aemonds-fire @meggiemay82 @doublesparrows @silverwinged @nikstrange @tssf-imagines

To be added or removed, please let me know!

[aquamarinescarlet]

Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall. 

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there. 

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings… 

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired. 

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it. 

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t. 

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it. 

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all. 

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems. 

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.” 

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch. 

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer. 

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile. 

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.” 

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.” 

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing. 

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her. 

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate. 

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did. 

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again… 

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like. 

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!” 

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you. 

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up. 

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be. 

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all. 

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off. 

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe. 

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet? 

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology. 

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails. 

From none other than Isaac. 

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket. 

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless. 

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words. 

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

[1kook]

youtube & use lube

part 7 of my netflix and chill collection!

summary: You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube.  warnings: smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook rating: mature (18+) miscellaneous: domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3  word count: 8.7k  

notes: finally…. 7 parts later and we get ~✨💓sub kook💓✨~ this was honestly my fave to write I think because I was obSESSEDDD with his softness and yn leading hehe /.\ also yeah we time jumped 6 months bc uhmmm 😎 story progression also here’s [ THE KOOK U SHOULD IMAGINE FOR THIS 😡 ] also if see a typo ummm no u didn't .

let me know what u think! a simple ask goes a long way <3

Despite what past experiences may dictate, Jungkook’s body is actually quite resilient. It’s due in part to his obnoxiously healthy lifestyle; avocado breakfasts, gym rat tendencies, and a normal person’s circadian rhythm (you could never relate). He lives the life health professionals can only dream of writing down in their notes, so careful of his well-being that it’s almost annoying. Of all the habits you help him break, the rituals he sometimes forgets, his health is never one and it’s actually one he ropes you into quite often. The ladder accident last summer had truly been an odd occurrence, and for a while after, you doubt anything else will ever happen to him. 

And then winter comes. 

Now, Jungkook, with all his superior bodily systems and strict lifestyle, is still not immune to the common cold. So when he comes down with a stuffy nose, a saggy frame, you’re not too surprised. It’s right after New Year’s, which you had spent it at one of Taehyung’s classic overcrowded parties this year, shivering on a rooftop as he kissed you silly under the fireworks, so one of you was bound to get sick. And you were sick for Halloween, so it’s only the universe’s way of leveling the playing field when he gets sick after New Years. 

What does surprise you is when he doesn’t bounce back right away. Usually, Jungkook’s high caliber immune system has him in tip top shape about two days later. But this time around, it takes a while. In fact, it takes longer than usual, and you don’t realize until you’re coming over on a Friday night, met with an unusual silence at the Jeon household. 

As you slowly grew accustomed to your life out of school, you and Jungkook accepted that you didn’t really have time to be glued to each other’s hips at all hours of the day. It was only natural that sometimes you had too much work, were too tired, or were just not in the mood to visit each other. That was fine, and you’ve come to quite appreciate this new routine, because it only made your heart flutter faster than before when you did see him next. You don’t have to see each other everyday, and that was fine; it was part of growing up together (and growing old together, your sappy heart says).

But today, this separation ends up being your downfall. Jungkook first showed signs of a cold on Monday, and now it was Friday and you hadn’t heard from him in two days. You’re beginning to suspect he’s come down with something severe— maybe that strain of the flu that he forgot to get vaccinated for this year —or even worse, dead.

Luckily, Jungkook isn’t dead, just sadly slumped across the end of his bed, nose a bright red and hair a tangled mess. “Oh no,” you frown, but there’s not an ounce of distress in your voice, because boy, was he cute. 

He groans at the sight of you. “Don’t look at me,” he whimpers, hands fisting the sheets. “I’m ugly.”

You bite down on a smile, hang your bag on the hook behind his bedroom door. He’s barely making an effort to stay on the bed, clinging to the side with such powerless hands. “Absolutely hideous,” you play along, arms wrapping around his middle. Registering your touch, your support, he immediately releases what little grip he had and almost sends the two of you tumbling to the ground. “My poor baby,” you croon, manhandling him back into the comfort of his sheets. 

Perhaps the reason you believed Jungkook was so immune was because, well, he never let you see him sick. 

He was picky about his presentation to the world, always wanting to show his best side. And well, you were in that world. Hell, you were probably the main person he wanted to show off for (not to toot your own horn), so he avidly avoided showing you his unpleasant sides. Even in college, when you had been practically stuck to his side, he had always made a big deal of pushing you away when he was sick, calling off dates and hiding away at his house. 

You sort of knew why. Namjoon had told you once that Jungkook when drunk was the equivalent of a needy, whiny baby. You could attest to that because wine drunk Jungkook and vodka drunk Jungkook were quite the experiences to haul home. And apparently Jungkook when sick was more or less the same. He was all doe eyes and pouty lips, magnified by his weakened appearance. He was adorable. 

He’s wearing a lot of layers, but it’s still winter so you don’t think too much of it. Dark long sleeve sweatshirt, the front tucked into some cute brown and black checkered pants. You see it as just some casual at home attire until you reach for his covers, hand brushing his hair from his face, only to find it ice cold. 

“Oh, you’re freezing, honey,” you frown, for real this time. Jungkook whimpers, snuggles into the sheets you pull up to his chin. He dozes off soon after, pouty lips chapped to hell and back. You reach for your chapstick, deciding to get one good use of it on your own lips before contaminating it with Jungkook’s sick germs. Even in his sleep he’s a good boy, rolling his lips together after you’ve applied it on him. 

With Jungkook knocked out, you pad back downstairs and into his kitchen. You can more or less infer that he’s come down with something a little more intense than a cold. His skin was cold, and his nose was runny, but, oddly enough, he wasn’t sweating. You decide to consult a professional. 

“The little gremlin is sick?” Doyeon repeats, a comforting buzz in your ear as you get to work making Jungkook your famous Get Better Soon Soup, idly waiting for the water to boil over. You confirm. Doyeon, legend that she was, accidentally sat an entire physiology class one semester (and passed), so this is the closest you’ll get to a doctor friend. “Hm,” she says, “what’re his symptoms?”

You press your phone between your ear and shoulder, clattering around Jungkook’s kitchen for ingredients. “Runny nose and colder than your ass that one time you passed out in the snow,” you supply. “Oh, but not sweating.”

Doyeon hums over the line, tells you to give her a second, and disappears. “WebMD is saying fever, but you said he’s not sweating?” You confirm again. “Throw him in front of the heater and make him sweat then. He has to burn it out somehow.”

“I can’t do that,” you sigh, pausing when you hear some vague sound from around the house. It’s not Jungkook, so you return to your call. Anyway, Jungkook’s house is, like, perfect. Always warm when need be and always cold as well. You don’t even think he knows what a space heater is. “He’s sick sick. Like, can barely hold himself up sick.” 

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

Anyway, Jungkook probably has a fever, except it’s weird because he’s not sweating it out. He wakes up about an hour later, but this time he’s more self aware. He eats his soup and takes the medicine you offer him. Afterwards, he can’t go back to sleep so he huffily asks for his iPad and begins watching some weirdly specific YouTube videos you don’t think you’ve ever seen him watch before. 

You have absolutely no idea what he’s watching, some niche videos of guys in Singapore turning random forest areas into underwater pools? You don’t know. Jungkook seems interested, though, for all of ten minutes until he falls asleep again. 

He’s still cold, poor baby, nose like an ice cube that just won’t melt. You find a heating pad you left over in his closet and place it on his chest. Your thought process is that if his heart, the source of all energy, was warm, then certainly the rest of him will warm up soon enough. Yeah, you missed the last three seasons of Grey’s Anatomy; you were a little rusty. 

So with Jungkook fast asleep and nothing else to do, you assume the age-old, patriarchal task of cleaning around the house. 

His house was usually neat and tidy, mostly as a result of Jungkook’s virgo manifestations, but even those varied. His living room tended to be spotless, but his personal office was a different story. But with him having been out of it this past week, the entire house is littered in tiny garbage that would make Normal Jungkook burst a blood vessel.

There’s a pile of Reese’s wrappers in the downstairs bathroom, on the sink next to his toothbrush. The sight makes you sad, because your poor boy must have been struggling if he was eating candy in the bathroom, where he… uses the bathroom. And then that thought makes you even sadder, thinking back to all the times he was sick and alone, fending for himself out of his weird embarrassment of showing normal body functions. 

You had thought he was cute when you first arrived— he still was —but he was also so weak and frail, bulky muscles rendered useless by whatever bacteria was attacking his body, making him sleepy and in pain for god knows how long. With a resolute nod, you sweep all the wrappers into the trash and decide to do your very best at helping Jungkook get through this sickness and bounce back better than ever. 

Before leaving his bathroom, you ransack his cabinets, deciding he probably keeps most of his antibiotics here. It’s a spot you never really snoop around, because Jungkook always keeps a fully stocked basket in his closet filled with your typical necessities— from conditioner to pads to nail polish remover, he kept it all. And furthermore, you always tended to use his upstairs bathroom anyway, so that’s where your toothbrush and the like were kept. There was really no need for you to ever look through the downstairs bathroom’s cabinet. So the downstairs bathroom cabinet is practically the other side of the world to you, a culture shock so strong it has you plopping down in front of it to thoroughly sift through. 

He’s got a disgusting amount of hair products, none of which you actually think you’ve ever seen him use, and a maniacal amount of tooth stuff. Now, you were quite possibly the biggest proponent for dental care, but this was ridiculous. Four packs of floss on reserve, and about three cases of those dental picks. A whole family pack of toothbrushes and one of those cute little cases for his retainer you’ve seen a few times. 

So overwhelmed with his ungodly stash of dental hygiene utilities, you almost miss the pretty pink tube hidden in the very back corner. 

You’re thinking it’s some makeup primer you left before that he mistook for moisturizer, probably dumped it with all his other things, only to find out you are very, very wrong. 

Sensation Warming Lubricant: NOW! in strawberry flavor 

You blink. 

Lubricant? Jungkook was using lubricant? Strawberry, sensation warming lubricant?!

Somewhere in your mind you had convinced yourself that Jungkook was a simple man, a lotion at his bedside drawer type of man. He had you for the last one and half year, and you two fucked like rabbits, so you hardly doubt he was jacking it alone these days. And even if he was, why on earth was he so specific about the type of lube he uses?

You turn the bottle around, eyes scanning for an expiration date or something of the like, only to find that the copyright symbol was under this current year. The year that had just started, like, two weeks ago. 

Oh, so this was new. 

You turn it over, eyes scanning over the warnings like it’ll tell you something about your boyfriend you don’t know yet, some other hidden secret that he’s maybe held from you. Granted, owning lube isn’t really a big deal, but the fact he’s got it so hidden away (not really, it was casually sitting beside his sunscreen) was definitely something to zero in on. 

Strawberry flavored, you read again, warming, stimulating, edible? Forget his weirdly extensive floss collection, you had stumbled upon something amazing in here, the goddamn Hope Diamond among snooping girlfriend finds. You’ll confront him about this later, you decide, when he’s back to normal and not whiningly calling your name from upstairs. You pocket it for now, tucking it into your cardigan pockets for said later interrogation, and bound up the stairs to him again. 

He’s sitting up in bed like a very angry and confused toddler, brows furrowed sharply like he’s mad. Actually, he just can’t see, the light from the hallway blinding him, so you shut the door and flick on his bedside lamp for him instead. “Hi, honey,” you coo, sitting down on the edge beside him. He’s still waking up, leaning a little too heavily into your palm when you cup his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“Terrible,” he rasps out, but he’s definitely looking better than before. You don’t know if you imagine it, but there’s this slowly accumulating sweat that forms along the base of his neck. “Please don’t leave again,” he says softly, droopy eyes glassy. 

Something shoots straight to your heart— an arrow from Cupid himself! —that makes you stroke his cheek tenderly until his eyelids are fluttering shut again. “I won’t,” you promise, feeling around for his iPad. He doesn’t seem like he’ll fall back asleep, sitting up with more strength than he had that morning. 

You end up climbing behind him, let him be the little spoon you know he secretly craves to be, as he watches his weird YouTube videos again. His body is so warm against yours, but his skin is still so cold. If what Doyeon had said was true, it’s no wonder he’s kept the same sickness all week. The rhythmic sound of machetes hacking at the earth and water trickling through bamboo pipes grows on you, makes you fall into a sense of comfort behind him, arms tracing circles over his chest. 

It’s a mindless habit, one you actually do a lot. Most of the time, it’s when he’s at his desk and stressed out, your masseuse hands making an appearance to soothe the muscles in his neck and chest from being hunched over for so long. Even now, your fingers unconsciously press into the fabric over his pecks, tickle up his sternum until he’s melting against you. 

It takes one quiet whimper from him to let you know exactly how he’s feeling. “Everything alright?” you inquire, halting your movements over his chest. Jungkook nods shakily, head lolling forward. The nape of his neck calls to you, whispers for a kiss that you tenderly bestow upon it. It makes Jungkook jolt, another pretty sound leaving his lips at the press of your warm lips against his sensitive neck. 

“No more,” he mumbles, rolls his head around until it’s resting against your shoulder, giving you a clear view down his chest. You slide your hands back up from where they’d gone stiff just around his ribs, let them palm over his pecs. Jungkook’s hips buck, a minuscule movement you almost miss. 

His heart thunders like the inside of a horse race track beneath your palm, breath picking up just from the simple motion of your hands on his chest. It’s on the fourth circle around his pecs that you feel your pinky briefly catch on something. “Poor thing,” you sigh, running the pad of your pointer finger over the hardened nipple that peaks beneath his sweatshirt. “Is this what was bothering you?” 

A shaky exhale in response, hands tightly clutching at his iPad and beloved YouTube video genre. “N-No,” he denies, but you chance a peak at his face, where his lips are bitten a rosy pink color, its slightly muted sister rushing down his cheeks, over his neck. 

You press the lightest of kisses to the side of his neck, and he shivers. “Need me to take care of you?” you purr, trail your hands down his chest towards where the hem of his sweater sits. You run your finger over it twice, before moving to slip your hand beneath. Your fingers brush along his abs, contracted tightly at your touch, and slowly make their way back up his chest. 

Fingers find his pebbled nipples, a gasp escaping his lips. “Does this feel good?” you ask softly, pinching the swollen nubs between your fingers. Jungkook groans, body arching just the slightest as you rub his nipples, tug and twist them until he’s a whining mess. “Need you to tell me, honey,” you encourage, lips ghosting over his neck. 

The second kiss has him flinching as well, head rapidly turning the other way as you slowly kiss over his neck. “___, please,” he pants, knuckles pale on the sides of the iPad. You're afraid it’ll snap, if not from his grip then from the way he pushes at it, like he’s breaking a wooden board over his knee. It’s still on YouTube, playing another video from the same collection, volume competing with Jungkook’s tiny sounds. 

Pressing your lips to his neck, you kiss along it slowly, reveling in the lovely noises that Jungkook produces the more you rub his nipples, lower body squirming animatedly before you. Your kisses grow wet for a short period, suck purple blossoms across his skin until Jungkook is quivering like a leaf. “E-Enough,” he begs, voice a wobbly mess that is so light and airy. 

You grin, giving his rockhard nipples one last flick before sliding your hands down his chest, over his stomach to toy with the elastic of his pants. He inhales sharply, iPad nearly snapped in half mid video. Ready to play with him some more (and slightly afraid for the future of his tablet), you reach out a hand to move it away, set it off to the side. 

But Jungkook doesn’t release it. In fact, he clings to the damn piece of tech tighter than before. “Hmm?” you murmur, bottom lip brushing against his neck once more. “Not letting go, sweetheart?” 

He shakes his head, soft crown of curls bouncing from the movement. “Can’t, can’t,” he shivers. His knees shift back and forth, move between being casually spread and flush together. Like he’s hiding something, using the iPad and the videos on screen as cover. You tug at his wrist and Jungkook shakes his head again. 

You change tactics, hand sliding around his wrist instead. The other travels up, up, up, comes curling around the base of his neck. Jungkook whimpers, tilts his head back for you cutely at the first brush of your fingers against his Adam’s apple. “Thought you were my good boy?” you ask, eyes zeroed in on the tremble of his lower lip. 

Jungkook exhales shakily, a rather torn expression crossing his features. “I am,” he insists, fingers still tight “I am your good boy.”

You smile, stroking the front of his neck softly as you lean down to press a kiss against his cheek. “You are, aren’t you?” He whimpers. “Then let go, honey,” you murmur, hand on his wrist giving another experimental tug. Still, his grip remains solid. “Jungkook,” you snap, “let go.”

“Y-You’ll laugh,” he cries, yet his grip slowly weakens. It’s with a swift tug that the iPad tumbles to his side, presses against his hip, and shows you the raging hard-on that stirs beneath the front of his cotton pants. Pressed nearly beside your ear, Jungkook shivers. 

Ever so slowly, your hands return to their place around his waist. “Why would I laugh, sweetheart?” you mumble, marveling at the way his cock twitches and jumps beneath his pants before you can even touch it. His shirt is hiked up just above his abs, your hands tenderly stroking over the skin beneath his navel, but it’s got Jungkook writhing. “Hips up for me,” you instruct. 

He shakes even when he pushes himself up, knees wobbling as you slip your hands beneath his waistband and tug them down his thighs. Afterwards, his legs flop forward flatly, spread out with his beautiful swollen cock on display against his hip. 

You trap it at the base and Jungkook mewls, hands fisting the sheets now that his beloved iPad has been snatched away. It’s still playing his videos, interrupting his saccharine moans with corny ads every few minutes. A hand snaps up to join, opposite of yours, until your fingers are entwined around his dick. How romantic, you think, discreetly rolling your hips back against the mattress. “Gonna help me make you cum?” you ask instead, give him a light squeeze that makes him jolt. 

“Uh huh,” he responds, feathery. 

You reward him with a kiss to his cheek, reaching up to brush away the hair that’s begun sticking to his forehead. In the very back of your head you recognize this as being good for his fever, but the rest of you is more concerned with the pretty pout on his lips. “Hold tight for me,” you smile, releasing his cock to press your finger against the very tip of his cock where a pearly drop of precum has begun forming. “So pretty, Jungkookie,” you praise, teasing the length of your finger over the slit on his head. It has that juicy droplet coating your finger, gliding seamlessly over and over again. 

The simple touch makes him buck, has him blindly wrapping an arm around your bent knee that was pressed to his side this whole time. He squeezes around you rather weakly, the majority of his strength going to holding his cock tightly like you’d instructed. He’s such a good boy for you, trying his absolute best, even when you’re very obviously overwhelming him. 

You roll the flat side of your finger over him, his mushroom tip slowly growing more and more slick as he produces more precum. It’s shiny, fits perfectly between your clasped fingers when you squeeze around his head. Jungkook’s breath turns labored. 

He’s always so well kept down there, skin so smooth and free of hairs, and you know he does it because he wants to impress you. “So pretty, baby,” you hum, acknowledging his efforts. Your praise makes Jungkook moan, suddenly fucking up into his hand. It’s accidental, because he hisses at the drag of his dry palm around his relatively dry dick immediately. 

“Hurts, hurts,” he whimpers prettily, lower lip caught between his teeth. 

You frown, slide your wet fingers down the base of his cock until they’re wrapping around his and Jungkook’s little gasps even out. “I’m sorry, baby, you gotta be patie—“

Something presses against your hip, something distinctly hard that you had hastily picked up from his bathroom cabinet earlier, and a whole new door opens before your eyes. “Hold still for me,” you tell him quickly as you release your grip around his cock. Jungkook wails at the separation, but you’re more concerned with wrestling the tube out of your pocket with one hand. It’s heavy in your palm, turning over until that big fat label on front comes into view again. 

Jungkook explodes at the sight. “Wh— Where did you find that?” he stammers, cheeks ablaze. “I-I don’t know where that came fro—“

You ignore him, hold the bottle of lubricant over his stomach as you uncap it, a gooey pink substance spilling over into your hands the moment the lid pops off. Jungkook is still rambling away about the origins of the bottle, as if you care. You set the bottle on his tummy, the cold plastic makes him shiver. But you know what’s not cold? The warming lube in your hands that only takes three rubs of your palms to activate. 

You latch down like a crazed animal around his cock. With both your hands fighting to grip at his cock, you’re pressed closer against Jungkook, lips against the shell of his ear. 

The initial touch makes him sob, back arching and legs kicking at the sheets piled at the foot of the bed as your slick hands track the lube over his dick. “No!” he cries, hands wildly reaching out to grab whatever he can as you slowly get to work pulling him off. “I-I can’t, __, I can’t.”

“You can,” you coo, watching the translucent pink substance coat his cock, join his sticky precum. 

Maybe you get overexcited in your efforts, forget Jungkook is the way he is right now because he was still a little weak from his fever, but you go crazy on stroking his cock. One hand lingers around the base, squeezing and rolling over his balls, palm pressing against the hardened sac and squeezing there too. The other focuses at the tip, does most of the actual stroking over his cock. His head is leaking precum now, every stroke and squeeze making him shudder and push out another drop, until it���s mixing with the lube to form a sticky sweet substance that you wanna lick at so bad. 

So you do. 

You release one hand to curiously bring it up to your face, turning it over and around as you examine the stickiness on your fingers, the fat drop that unintentionally drips onto the front of Jungkook’s sweatshirt. He sobs at the sight of your lips around your fingers, squirms and bucks into the hand still on his cock until he’s embarrassingly coming. “I’m sorry,” he wails, hands fisting the sheets, fucking into your hand like a virgin. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to.” 

You draw your hand away, watching in slow motion the cum that just spurted from his cock come dribbling down the slowly softening length now. “Oh, sweetheart,” you croon, hands on his tummy. The bottle of lube slips to the side, meets the still playing iPad at his hip. It’s sticky and gross to touch him like this, especially when you know Jungkook hates being unnecessarily dirty, but you can’t stop yourself from softly caressing him, soothe him after such a hard-hitting orgasm. 

Honestly you had thought he would hold up a little more, let you get in a few more strokes, but he must’ve been more sensitive than you thought. “I’m sorry,” he cries again, head lolling to the side to meet your gaze with watery eyes. 

You tilt his head to the side, angle him just right for you to bestow your first kiss of the night against his little pout. Jungkook hiccups, melts against you as you slowly guide him through the kiss. He’s sloppy and shy, moves nothing like your normal Jungkook, and that fact alone has you slipping your tongue past his lips. He doesn’t fight back, just lets you play with him and sighs all delicately against your mouth. 

There’s something about this, his soft and submissive attitude, that has you pulling away to look at him. Big brown eyes, glassed over with unshed tears, and plush lips that call your name. And yet. 

“Open,” you murmur, hypnotized by the way that tiny mouth moves. 

“Huh?” Jungkook flushes, but he’s so good, he’s your good boy, and does so anyway. Lower lip quivers as he parts his lips, stuttering exhales creeping through as you purse your lips, let the saliva collect on your mouth, before rudely spitting into his. He flinches, whimpers softly, and swallows. He looks at you with these expectant eyes, like he wants to hear how much of a good boy he is, so you do exactly that. 

You brush his bangs away lovingly. “Aren’t you just so good for me,” you purr, revel in the way his eyes flutter shut at your touch, like you could never hurt him, and you won’t. 

As sweet as the moment is, there’s a raging fire in your core begging to be stroked, and your hyperfixation on Jungkook’s mouth lets you know there’s only one way to chase the feeling. “Up,” you tell Jungkook, who whimpers sadly when you finally escape from behind him. 

But you don’t get too far, settling beside him on the bed until you’re looking at the damage you’ve caused from the front. His skin is sticky in some places, pink sheen of the lube decorating him from your incessant touching. Pants around his thighs, shirt against his chest. His face is flushed, all the way down to his chest and up to his ears, so rosy and pink all for you. He shies away under your gaze, drops his head to his chin bashfully. 

You grin, shuffle forward to turn those pretty eyes back towards you. “Messy little thing,” you tease, slotting your mouths together again. Jungkook moans this time, lazily kissing you back. His lips move in slow motion, trembling hands reaching for your face to cup, your name falling from his lips when you pull away slightly. “Need you to help me out now,” you murmur, hand on his jaw. “Can you do that, honey?” Jungkook nods hurriedly, eyes foggy and on your mouth. “Lay back.”

He does so, rushes to lay against the pillows until he’s flat on his back. You get to work on your clothes, shed your cardigan and languidly tug your top over your head in the way you know makes your breasts bounce. Beneath you, Jungkook whines at the sight. “You too,” you remind him, wiggling out of your jeans. At your instruction, he begins fumbling with his clothes, pants and underwear haphazardly thrown over the edge of the bed. 

By the time you’re naked, you’re met with a rather amusing sight. 

In his haste to take his clothing off, Jungkook seems to have gotten himself tangled in his long sleeves, shirt awkwardly bunched up around his wrists and twisted over some. You chuckle. “Help please,” he asks so politely, shaking his arms back and forth above his head. But you’re genuinely confused as to what he did, because one of the sleeves wraps around the other, pins the bulk of the fabric to his skin, and then the other wraps around that. A mess you don’t bother dissecting, simply climbing over him. He complains, of course, soft huffs you wave off. 

“Don’t need them anyway,” you shrug, can’t help the lovesick look you send him when you brush his hair away for the umpteenth time. Jungkook leans into the touch sweetly, rosy cheek pressed against your palm. “Lemme see your pretty little tongue,” you order, pussy clenching when he does as told and rolls his tongue out for you, tip pressed against his bottom lip. “Good boy.”

A soft whimper, and then you’re shuffling over him, pretty doe eyes watching with amazement when you finally hover over his face. “For me?” he asks so softly, so sweetly. 

It’s a question you’ve heard him utter countless times before in similar settings, always with a cocky grin and mean eyes, ready to send you to hell and back with his tongue or his cock. But it’s different now, big shiny eyes looking at you like you’re the greatest thing to ever happen in his life, so pliant and demure beneath your touch like he lived to serve you. 

“All for you,” you assure him, get comfortable, and slowly lower your pussy over his face. His eyes flutter shut immediately, pink tongue ready for you by the time your dripping cunt nears his face. 

You can’t help the moan that tears itself from your throat, a soft cry as he begins lapping against your folds. He’s so tender, so careful. It drives you crazy. Hands above his head squirming as you slowly grind your pussy over his face, more mindful than usual because he was so delicate tonight, like a baby bird that shivers with the simplest touch. 

His tongue is smooth, circles around your clit. He nudges your bundle of nerves back and forth a few times, sends an initial wave of tingles down your spine, before taking it between puckered lips. His slurps it into his mouth, where it’s so hot and wet, it makes your grind stutter. “Oh,” you pant, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “P-Perfect,” you mumble. 

The praise makes his features twist up cutely, mouth desperate to get more out of you. “You like that?” you gasp, holding his head still as he runs his tongue along your folds. Jungkook nods, eyes glazed over as he messily begins eating you out. “Like when I tell you you’re a good boy, Jungkookie?” 

He lets out a broken whine, the vibrations shooting up your spine and making you shiver. Tongue pressed in at your entrance, prods gently like it’s his first time (it’s not) and he’s gauging your reactions. “Oh baby,” you shudder, fingers tightening in his curls. 

He looks like an angel beneath you like this, halo of curls artfully splayed across the sheets, arms knotted above his head. Big pretty eyes that make you want to lay down and be his bitch instead, their power just so strong even when he’s whining and whimpering against your pussy like this. His tongue dips into your cunt, makes you buck against him by accident. “I’m sorry, angel,” you breathe, so caught up in your thoughts that the name just slips. It makes Jungkook’s cheeks flush a pretty pink, arms tug at their makeshift restraints. But his brain is scattered, torn between releasing himself, eating you out, and being shy. 

He settles soon enough, ends up just sticking his tongue out flat for you to grind against, using the grip in his curls to drag your pussy over his face. His scalp feels warm, sweat clinging to his hairline. He sighs endearingly against you, and it’s that final puff of warm air against your folds that has you coming, cum dripping over his lips and chin sinfully. 

When you finish, you quickly get off of him, lay down beside him. Jungkook is panting softly, tongue peeking out to taste the cum that splattered against the corner of his lips. “You were so good for me,” you praise, idly dragging your finger across his skin, collecting your cum on the tip. 

Jungkook looks at you with a heavy gaze, knotted wrists slowly returning to rest over his abdomen. “Can you… Can you call me that again?” he asks hesitantly, so shy and polite. 

“Hm?” you ask. “Angel?” His lips part, an awfully aroused look crossing his features. You smile, press your cum loaded finger against his lips and he opens, sucks around your finger and moans. “My pretty little angel,” you purr, slowly thrusting your finger in and out of his mouth. Before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning over to kiss him again, swallowing his cries in your desperate need to taste yourself on his tongue. Jungkook is more active this time around, daringly challenging your tongue with his before ultimately giving up, languidly following the pace you set for the kiss. You pull off with a pop, leave him dazed and trailing after your mouth cutely. 

You pat his cheek once, offer him a tender smile, before moving to get up and clean up. Jungkook whines at your departure, and it’s only once you’ve sat up that you realize why. 

Half hard cock at his hip, fattening slowly but surely. Instantly, it’s like the post-orgasm fatigue is yanked away, pussy throbbing at the sight of your angel and his cock, swelling from eating you out and kissing. He was too good to be true. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” you sigh dramatically, shifting onto your knees at his hip to look at him. Something pokes your leg; it’s the stupid iPad playing his dorky YouTube videos that you click off and chuck to the other side of the bed. You had had enough of that by now. 

He’s not at full mast yet, and he’s not getting there quick enough for your liking. So you take matters into your own hands. (Besides, what was stopping you tonight? Certainly not this soft, pliant Jungkook.)

Kneeling between his legs, you reach for the forgotten bottle of lube, squirt a fat glob into your hands, then decide that isn’t enough and squirt it directly onto your chest. Jungkook watches with wide eyes, lower lip caught between his teeth. “What— What’re you doing?” he stammers, can’t even sit up with his hands held together. “__, y-you don’t have—“

Squeezing your breasts together, you slip his cock between the crevice, watch as his angry head comes out on the other side so easily, so slippery. Oh, this was gonna be post-work, shower-time, spank bank material for months. 

Jungkook sobs, loud and unfiltered at the sight, expression torn as he watches you slowly work your tightened breasts down his quickly hardening member. “T-Too much, too much,” he cries, squirming and bucking beneath you. “I-I’ll come—” 

“Don’t,” you snap, stilling your moments to flick your eyes back to him. His head is rolled back, jaw strained, but when he manages to lift it up and look down at you, there’s tears that streak his cute face, trails that glisten when the lowlight of the lamp hits him just right. “Don’t fucking come yet, Jungkook.”

He sniffles weakly, more tears spilling from his eyes. “But I— it feels,” he blubbers, knotted hands reaching down for the base of his cock. You slap it away. “___, please,” he wails, face flushed from all his conflicting emotions. 

Ignoring his cries, you get back to work, moving your upper body to and fro to simulate the thrusting motion he is too weak to do himself. He whimpers pitifully, more tears leaving his eyes when you lean down and spit on the head of his cock when it emerges next, make it join the rest of the ungodly fluids painting your chest. Honestly, you’re certain it’s that damned strawberry flavored, sensation warming, edible lube that makes this experience so enjoyable, so mind-blowing. 

Jungkook seems to agree, stuttering out a messy whine. “Feels weird,” he snivels, only to be cut off when you release him from in between your tits. Immediately, he begins lamenting the loss. 

Slowly, you ease him back in. You’re beginning to understand the intensity of that damned warming lube, because with each glide of his cock between your breasts, it’s like a tingle of nerves sparks within you, insides folding in on themselves as they channel all their energy to that one area of hastily spread lube. It feels so good and wet and messy, Jungkook’s whiny sniffles only fueling the experience. His cock twitches dangerously, and you flash him a glare. “Jungkook,” you warn. 

“I’m sorry,” he weeps, thrashing back and forth as if that makes it any easier. “I just— I want,” he chokes, hips bucking into the suction you’ve created between your boobs. Tentatively, you stick your tongue out, let his tip brush against it on the next thrust. Jungkook curses, a feral groan escaping his lips. “Wanna fuck,” he seethes, “now.”

It’s but a slight peek into his regular personality, his normal mannerisms. But something about it now annoys you. In fact, it pisses you off, seeing him be so complacent and sweet just to try and overthrow you at the last second. And it’s with this same train of thought that you release him, climb over him like a crazed sex demon, and press your hand to his throat. 

“You're supposed to be good,” you spit, scowl turned on him and it immediately has Jungkook drawing back with his tail tucked, falling into line as he should. “You’re supposed to be my angel tonight, remember?”

Jungkook nods, big round eyes looking at you like you’re insane, but the cock that presses against your ass tells you that he likes it. “I-I’m sorry,” he stutters, shrinking back into the mattress. Sticky hands around his throat, probably make him warm and tingly, but all you can think about is those pretty eyes. Sensing your wavering emotions, he takes advantage by tilting his chin forward for you cutely, pink lips trembling as he silently asks for a kiss. 

You release him.

“Stupid angel,” you huff, mouth against his. “Gonna make me mad if you don’t act right,” you remind him, pushing his sweaty curls away from his face. He whimpers against your mouth, let’s you play with his hair as you calm down. He’s a blushing mess beneath you, every inch of him flushed and warm and sweaty. 

You shift back and are met with his still rock hard member against your ass. You touch him appreciatively, reaching back to stroke him with a half-assed grip. It makes him moan nonetheless, pulling away from your lips to mewl against your shoulder. “Wanna fuck?” you hum, curling your hand over the tip like he likes, watching his head roll back against his pillow at the sensation. Jungkook groans, doesn’t seem to hear you now. You try again. “Wanna fuck my pussy, baby?”

“Yes,” he gasps this time, jolts when you press the tip of your finger against the slit on his head, plug his cock from releasing any more precum. “Please, please,” he begs, the hands on his chest straining against the shirt he still hasn’t managed to shake off. 

One last kiss is delivered to him, a chaste one against his pout that makes him whine. “Whatever you want,” you purr, line him up. 

Your hands are still sticky with the lube and so is his cock. Everything is sticky; his cock, you folds, your tits, his neck. It’s a big sticky, slippery mess, but you can’t even be annoyed because everything feels so good. Your tits tingle from whatever they put in that damn lube, nipples rock hard and extra swollen today, like if you don’t touch them you’ll die. You sink back into Jungkook’s throbbing cock, and the second his cock spreads the lube along your walls, you’re jolting because it just feels so damn good. 

You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. 

His cock pushes past your folds, fits snugly inside of you just like it belongs. It still feels like the first time, feels like your first day where he was so perfect and sweet. Part of you wonders what would have become of you two if he had reacted like this that day, soft and whiny, when you first prepositioned him. Maybe the sexual aspect of your relationship would be entirely different today, maybe you’d be one the always leading. 

But… you’re not sure if you’d want that. Leading is fun— hell, you’re certain this moment will be what you get engraved on your tombstone —but you were a pillow princess at heart with occasional dominant tendencies. You drool over this moment now, but if he asks for this again tomorrow you might actually bend over and die. It was a lot of work, keeping the energy going, and you find yourself having this newfound sense of respect for Jungkook as his cock slips past your folds. 

Anyway, when you sit on his cock, fingers teasingly tightening around his throat, Jungkook’s eyes are weirdly focused on your tits. He’s been doing that a lot lately, losing his mind by just staring at your tits. On some occasions he puts them in his mouth, gets possessed by some titty loving monster and sucks on them until you’re trembling. It’s fine because it’s quite frankly a huge ego boost, but something him now makes you want to pick at him for it. 

“They’re yours to taste, angel,” you hum, slowly rolling your hips over his fat cock. Jungkook whimpers, softly ruts up into your heat the next time you press down. “Tell me what you want,” you exhale, a breathy moan. 

He doesn’t say anything, just drops his mouth open for you with a trembling lower lip. Tongue peeks out, eyes glazed over in his lust, looking every bit like those hentai ads he hates so much. But you fulfill his wishes, help him sit up until he’s flush against your chest. His awkwardly bound hands get squished in the middle, and he says, “m-my hands...” 

“I’ve got you,” you soothe, undo his self-made restraints and toss them to the side. Immediately, he’s wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against him to latch his lips around your breasts. “S-Slow down,” you whine, hands on his biceps as he sucks your tit into his mouth, twirls his tongue around your nipple. He’s good with his tongue even when he’s sick. 

He pulls off with a pop, ragged breathing only making you more sensitive as it fans over the thin layer of saliva he leaves on your tits. “Tastes like strawberries,” he groans wondrously, head against your chest. You use the lull to get back to fucking yourself on him, but Jungkook’s got other plans. He rolls the two of you over, pins you beneath him with his hot and sweaty body. “I’m sorry,” he moans as he begins jackhammering his thrusts into you. 

Your back arches, legs thrown around his waist as the sudden change of events. “Fffuck,” you heave, “harder, angel— gotta fuck like you mean it.”

Jungkook shudders, hands looped around the small of your back. His cock rams into you over and over, each glide of it against the walls of your pussy making you unravel in his arms. His lips latch around your other boob, suck and suck like he’s expecting something to come out.

That’s when it hits you. 

“N-Nothing there,” you tell him, arms wrapped around his shoulders. His lashes are wet, eyes pinching tighter at your reminder. He pulls away almost to protest, but then you’re guiding him up to your face, hot breath mingling with yours. “Nothing there because you haven’t given me a baby yet,” you murmur darkly, watch the emotions flood his features as you tap into that taboo kink of his. 

He chokes, grinds his cock into you and holds it there. “I-I didn’t,” he sniffs, “we never— you never said,” he whines, “...you wanted one.”

You cup his face in his hands, feel slightly mean for the pride you get from his tear stricken appearance. “I do,” you purr, lazily kissing him. “Want one if it’s from you. Don’t you?” He nods like an antsy puppy, quivering against you as he slowly and shallowly ruts into you. “Don’t you wanna see me like that, angel?” you egg on, hands looping behind his neck, idly playing with stray waves and curls. “Tummy so big and swollen because you did something bad, because you couldn’t pull out.” 

Jungkook sobs, pulls you impossibly closer until the head of his cock is missing your cervix repeatedly. One of your legs is pressed nearly to your chest, hip tight from the force in which he holds you. “I-I want,” he agrees, more tears spilling down his cheeks. 

You smirk evilly, kissing the corner of his mouth gently as he slowly picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Then fuck me hard, Jungkookie,” you demand, “fuck me full of your cum.”

Jungkook nods with a sniffle against your shoulder, fingers tightening against your skin as he slowly but surely begins nailing you into the mattress. He’s a good boy, always, because he does exactly what you tell him to. Uses those bulky muscles to hold you down, makes it impossible for you to move as he pistons his hips, cock sheathing itself inside your cunt. 

Every drag makes you unconsciously clench, the raw feeling consuming your thoughts. His cock is so big and wet today, certainly due to that stupid lube from beneath his cabinet. Your entire pussy feels like it’s on ecstasy, stupidly geeked up by that lube, and you’re sure Jungkook’s cock feels the same. It makes the glide so much better, so much easier, each ram of his cock feeling so easy. “Oh, fuck,” you whimper, nails digging down his spine. Jungkook is a sobbing, sniffling mess against the crook of your neck, absolute gibberish falling from his lips. 

But you’re no better, tongue seemingly set on a chaotic rampage to validate every single one of his fantasies. “Gonna fuck me while I’m pregnant?” you pant against his ear, fingers tugging at his hair. He doesn’t offer more than a strained cry, thrusts momentarily falling out of rhythm. “You would like that, huh? Fucking me when you’re not supposed to. You’re so bad, Kook-ah,”  you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Only pretend to be an angel but really you’re just a dirty, little pervert.” 

He wails loudly, slams his hips so hard into you that it makes you sob as well. “N-No,” he blubbers, tears against your skin. “I’m good— I’m a good boy,” he stresses, fingers bruising their prints into your skin. 

He presses so close, cock practically making your stomach bulge, but neither of you see. “Dirty angel,” you spit, yank his hair back roughly until he’s forced to look at you with that watery gaze. “So horny you’re willing to get me pregnant.”

Jungkook cries out, snaps his cock into you like he’s trying to break you in half. “No,” he heaves, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto yours. “I-I-I’d do it right,” he defends weakly, hips losing their demonic pace as his orgasm sneaks up on him. “Ma— Marry first… then, b— ba— bab—“

You swallow his words with your lips, kiss him like you’re on the verge of death in a desperate attempt to hide your tears from him. They paint your cheeks in stark strokes, trail down your skin and make everything blurry, but so does your orgasm. 

You come first, heart and body trembling at his unexpectedly sweet words, as you become a whimpering, teary mess beneath him. Jungkook follows, cries out your name one last time as he busts inside of you. 

Sticky and gross, he falls onto the pillow beside you. Poor baby is so tired, curls covering half of his face, but lips cutely puckered against the pillow. He’s sweaty as hell though, which you now vaguely remember was your original goal with all of this so you count this as a success. 

You think he’s fallen asleep, sitting up slowly and reaching for that t-shirt that bound him together earlier to clean up. He shudders when you run it against his skin, obviously still overwhelmed. You shift around the bed in search of today’s MVP. “Where’s the lube?” you mutter to yourself. 

Jungkook groans. “YouTube?” he asks, voice dry as all hell. 

“No, honey, the lube we used,” you respond, running your hands over the sheets for any signs of the pink bottle. 

“Want YouTube,” he mumbles, lets you swaddle him up in the blanket again. You roll your eyes and reach for the forgotten iPad that had long since tumbled to the floor. When it turns on, that same video from before is on pause so you don’t bother changing it as you hand it back to Jungkook. “Nice,” he murmurs, “underground water slide.”

You snort. “Weirdo.” He glares cutely, eyes barely open at this point. “Watch your YouTube.”

“Use your lube,” he sasses back softly, nonsensically, and then rather anticlimactically passes out. 

There’s something soft in your chest, something so big and overwhelming, that has you bending over his sleeping figure, mouth brushing against his. “Hurry and get better, angel,” you whisper, wish on it with all your heart. 

 To no one’s surprise, you get sick two days later. Doyeon laughs and laughs for hours about it, tells you that’s what you get for using sex as medicine. But Jungkook’s back to normal, which means he stays over and coddles you to death. 

“Hurry and get better,” he says, spoon feeding you your famous Get Better Soon Soup that you passed on to him. “I have a question to ask you.”

There’s a little black box in his downstairs bathroom cabinet that you swear you’ve never seen, but Jungkook knows you’re lying. 

It fits perfectly. 

epilogue

She scoffs. “And I care why?” You huff, go to scold her for their weird rivalry, but then she’s moving on. “Babe, just give him some pain relief and call it a day.”

“Fine,” you mumble. “Wait, can you look something else up for me?”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[thevibraniumveterans]

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Are you sure about that, Loki? Are you extra, extra sure about that?

Because you:

1. Joined a task force to look for Sylvie (even though you didn’t know her then) and entered the same tent she had just disappeared from mere seconds before;

2. Thought that she was you (which later she would disagree with and say “if anything, you’re me” but anyway) and therefore pretty darn easy to locate;

3. Wouldn’t at first accept the fact that she was superior to you (well, y’all are equals, and maybe she’s better than you, but we’ll get to that later);

4. Theorized with your new friend Mobius that she was hiding in apocalypses by stealing his salad and then proceeding to absolutely destroy it doing so;

5. Visited freakin’ POMPEII to prove said theory and then actually proved your theory correct;

6. Used a candy from the future as a clue to find out where she might’ve taken her next steps, and cross referenced it with the many apocalypses she might’ve been in;

7. Actually found an apocalypse that she ends up being in (Alabama 2050);

8. Went to said apocalypse to look for her (you seem pretty invested in looking for her at this point);

9. Found her first enchantment victim who then passed the enchantment onto her second victim (B-15, looking at you), whom you still thought was you;

10. Found her third enchantment victim who told you not to call her a Loki (which she’ll do again, don’t worry);

11. Acknowledged through her fourth enchantment victim that she was different than you for the first time (“I would never treat me like this,” you said);

12. Followed her through a Time Door back to the TVA after meeting her for the first time;

13. Somehow allowed her to get the best of you even though you probably didn’t mean for that to happen;

14. Grabbed her stolen TemPad and landed the both of y’all in yet another apocalypse, the worst one yet actually, one that she’s probably been to before;

15. Tried to shield her from a falling meteor, to which she said she didn’t need your help (I mean, did you have a reason to save her then?);

16. Called her weird (I mean, that’s funny as hell, I gotta give you that);

17. Opened a door for her and let her enter the mining shack first before you did;

18. Literally let down your guard around her (yes, you’re tired from all that running, but still);

19. Somehow didn’t even stop her from putting both her hands on your neck in an attempt to enchant you (it looked romantic as hell, dude, and how were you not even opposed to her doing that, given both of y’all’s antagonism toward each other?);

20. Told her mockingly “In my heart” when she asked you where you hid her stolen TemPad (I mean, you could have said literally anything else but you went for “in my heart”, okay, I see where this is going);

21. Kind of agreed with her when she said you needed her to get out of Lamentis, “you need me” being the key phrase;

22. Asked her where she was going, and followed her;

23. Acknowledged that she’s not a Loki (yay!), or at least the fact that she doesn’t want to be referred to as one;

24. Followed her into an abandoned mining town where you thought you could fool a resident who chose to stay (you couldn’t);

25. Let her get away with teasing you about your failed efforts;

26. Playfully grabbed her by the shoulders from behind as you used your magic to conjure up a guard’s outfit for yourself (which you looked absolutely hilarious in, by the way, that helmet did not help one bit);

27. Sat down with her at a booth on the train, just the two of you (I’m not calling this anything else other than a date, at this point, to be honest);

28. Told her a wistful story about your mother and how she taught you magic and how she believed in you;

29. Showed her a miniature version of the fireworks you said your mother once conjured up for you, in an attempt to make her happy (I mean, those are beautiful fireworks, and she likes them too!);

30. Playfully conjured up a feather and quill to tease her about saying “Love is hate” (she finds you funny, she just doesn’t want to admit it);

31. Asked her whether she’s got anyone waiting for her when her mission’s complete (well, she did give a sarcastic answer but that’s not my point);

32. Admitted to her that you courted both princes and princesses in the past as part and parcel of being royalty;

33. Disagreed on love being mischief (what does that even mean?!) and then told her that you might need a bit more of champagne to really get that line of thought going;

34. Sang (I’m sorry, serenaded is a better word) her a song about a fair maiden waiting for her beloved to return home (you’ll find out how prophetic that would be in due time, don’t worry);

35. Decided that a dagger was your best metaphor for love (what, does being inebriated make you better at metaphors now?)

36. Let her get mad at you for getting drunk on the train (tbh, that’s kinda your fault, but there was literally nothing else to do, so) and breaking her TemPad (honestly, how do you even break a TemPad when it’s hidden in one of your magic pockets?! How?!);

37. Asked her if she felt better after that frustration-fueled scream (I mean, that’s kinda the first time you’re looking out for her, because that’s about to get real routine);

38. Went along with her after she sarcastically suggested that y’all both should try to get the Ark off the moon, fully knowing the impossibility of doing so;

39. Bantered teasingly with her about enchantment;

40. Believed her on a dime’s drop when she said that everyone who worked that the TVA were Variants, just like the two of you;

41. Let her grab your hand before the both of you ran around the back of the Ark’s docking station in order to find another boarding point;

42. Asked her if she was okay after the both of you got knocked back by an explosion (aww, you do care for her, how sweet!);

43. Finally called her by her name just before the Ark exploded;

44. Apologized to her for ruining her mission and dooming the both of y’all to die on an exploding moon;

45. Sat and listened to her explain her motives for her mission, before telling her that though people like the both of you may lose in sometimes painful ways, y’all always survive one way or another;

46. Freakin’ COMPLIMENTED her (that’s a first), and while the both of you sat waiting for the explosion to wipe the both of you off the map, you took her hand for the first time after she put her hand on your forearm (lovely, by the way);

47. Looked longingly and sadly at her when the both of y’all were hauled back to the TVA for interrogation and then subsequently separated;

48. Denied, when interrogated (is questioned a better word?) by Mobius, that you and her are partners (ha, you’ll soon be, in more ways than one, if you weren’t already), with a look on your face that absolutely betrays your true feelings for her;

49. Couldn’t even sell your lie about meeting her to Mobius that he had to lie right back to you;

50. Thought she was dead and felt so worried for her (you should’ve seen your face!);

51. Asked if she was alive and then SIGHED IN RELIEF when you were assured that she’s still alive (oh, have you got it bad for her, and you know it);

52. Denied that she’s your girlfriend the first time Mobius teases you with that word;

53. Spilled your emotions and your feelings for her on the table when you told Mobius about how much you believe her about everyone at the TVA being Variants;

54. Didn’t even deny it the second time he called her your girlfriend;

55. When asked by Mobius if you cared about Sylvie, you didn’t know if “care” was the right word;

56. Straight-up told him, “I believe her” with such emotional conviction it’s hard to see it as anything else;

57. Nodded your head at her when the both of y’all were reunited at the very same elevators you met in front of (how poetic) and she asked you if you’re okay;

58. Literally had her back when the both of y’all fought the guards in the Timekeepers’ chambers;

59. Got distracted when she got knocked down to the floor by Judge Renslayer;

60. Were on the brink of telling her how you feel about her, telling her that revealing your emotions was kind of a new experience;

61. Decided the best option was to place your hands just by her shoulders for whatever reason;

62. Let go of her so that she wasn’t pruned like you were;

63. Admitted in a roundabout way in just three words that she was your glorious purpose (priorities shifted, eh?)

64. Proudly proclaimed that her being terrifying was the very thing that made her so brilliant;

65. Literally puffed out your chest when you said, “she needs me” (she will, much later, don’t worry);

66. Revealed that she’s the only one you do trust (oh, the way your voice just softens when you speak about her…);

67. Planned an unwise sneak attack (that would’ve involved stabbing a cloud, I mean…) on freakin’ ALIOTH because you believed that doing so would bring you back to her when you really had no idea whether it would or would not;

68. Ran down the hill you were on to reunite with her (classic reunion move, pity you didn’t complete it by hugging her, but I guess you’re not there yet) when she arrived by car and asked her if she’s okay (looks like it’s becoming a habit);

69. Hilariously tried to unsuccessfully argue, through telling her that you’ve been in the Void longer than she has (maybe for like, an hour or two? IDK) that stabbing a cloud with a dagger was your best line of defense;

70. Sat next to her and had a conversation with her, during which you…;

71. Said it was cold (whether it was or wasn’t, isn’t important), so you…;

72. Conjured up a blanket for yourself before asking if she wanted one as well and proceeded to deny that your budding romantic connection with her was the both of y’all’s nexus event;

73. Followed that up with revealing that your nexus event with her felt great, it was a nice moment (aww);

74. Proceed to deny it as another TVA lie (you really need to work on talking about your feelings!);

75. Reassured her that you don’t know what the both of y’all are doing with regards to this relationship you both have with each other;

76. Playfully wrapped part of your blanket around her shoulders (double aww, that’s the classic “I’m gonna fake yawn and drop my arm around her shoulders, y’all think she’ll notice” kind of move, and yes, she did, and she likes it) and smiled giddily like the lovesick puppy you are;

77. Acknowledged in a roundabout (and maybe not so subtle) way that she loves you;

78. Pledged to not betray her, to not let her down, because you’re not that kind of person anymore;

79. Adorably nudged her when you asked her what her plans were when all was said and done;

80. Suggested that the both of y’all could figure things out… “together”, you said (triple aww!);

81. Handed the TemPad she gave you to Mobius and told her, “You go, I go” (I mean…);

82. Let her take your hand before you went to attempt to enchant ALIOTH;

83. Interlocked both of y’all’s fingers while y’all were at it;

84. Walked hand in hand to the Citadel at the End of Time;

85. Asked her if everything’s okay after she becomes nervous before entering the Citadel;

86. Got really unimpressed when that creepy ghost clock offered the both of you a chance to rule the TVA together;

87. Stated that “We write our own destiny now”, cementing the fact that you and her are an item;

88. Warned her to not listen to He Who Remains;

89. Tried to stop her by warning her about the possible consequences of her actions;

90. Suggested that the best plan of action was to take a minute to think of whether allowing a multiversal war was better than the alternative both of y’all never wanted (unfortunate as it was to be a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don’t situation);

91. Got upset when she told you she felt like you betrayed her (don’t worry, you didn’t);

92. Clashed blades with her even though you clearly didn’t want to;

93. Told her “No” when she suggested that you kill her and take a throne you never wanted;

94. Let her blade fall to your neck to get her to stop and consider;

95. Said to her that this feeling of revenge, bloodlust isn’t worth it because you’d once been in her shoes;

96. Told her that you didn’t want to hurt her (after acknowledging that she’s been hurt by the TVA for a lifetime) and that all you wanted was for her to be okay;

97. Shared a kiss with her.

98. Deepened that kiss (you know you did…);

99. Grieved the misfortune of not just losing her but also the outcome of recent events, knowing that what she had to do was her life’s mission that you’d previously supported her on;

100. Went up to a changed Mobius and told him by referring to her, “We made a terrible mistake. We freed the Timeline. We found him beyond the storm.”

And if that doesn’t say “she’s become my girlfriend and I’m damn proud of her”, I don’t know what does.

-

Go get her, Loki. Go get Sylvie back. We’re betting on it.

[im-going-to-cryo-bust]

heyy,may i request with diluc and kaeya, s/o who gets hurt but like doesn't tell them till someone slips it up.Thank you!!

Diluc and Kaeya on: fem!s/o getting hurt

WARNING: angst/hurt with comfort

You end up in the hospital after a series of rookie mistakes. It's not your first time, so you reassure your teammates and plead them to keep quiet about it. It only takes a few weeks or only one day, considering that elemental healing will speed up the process. All you have to do is lie down and pray that no one spills the beans until things are better or confirmed...

Kaeya is in the center of Mondstadt so it’s impossible to avoid him, he did suspect that your mission is going on longer than usual

Ah, but what was the point of secrecy? Kaeya is too good at sweet talking that he found out in an hour - majority of that hour spent hunting down your party members.

He'll most likely "accidentally" stumble into your party members and bait them to a willing, subtle interrogation

He'll tease out little hints and piece everything together without even needing a direct answer

If you had a minor injury

He would take some time on the way to buy you a snack or gift to make you feel better. He spends a little longer more than he would like, cursing a bit and choosing one of the three presents he thought you might like. You hear rhythmic knocks on your door and the door swings open, Kaeya dramatically walking in with a smug smirk on his face. "How are you doing?"

You roll your eyes as Kaeya saunters in, sitting next to you and holding a gift in his hands. He laughs, but he looks nervous. His leg shakes erratically despite him pushing down on it, knuckles white. Then you remember the way his eyes flickering around the room, averted by his vexing smirk. Before you can talk about it, he interrupts with a distraction, the gift. He observes you with a smile as you brighten up at the sight of it, feeling a lot more better at the sight of you. 

Kaeya continues to distract you with teases that get you all riled up (adorable and hilarious in his opinion) and discussing the nervous nature of your encountered party member. You take the opportunity to retort about his nervousness. He looks stunned for a second, but he chuckles, “I knew I couldn’t get anything past you..” He hesitates. “I was worried when your friends looked so anxious, I was preparing myself for...” ‘The worst.’ Kaeya leaves it as it is, bitter smile in the pensive atmosphere. You clutch his hand tighter and Kaeya lightens up, reciprocating and knitting your hands together.

“When they said it was minor and you would recover soon, it was like a boulder was lifted off my chest.” He pats your head, his touch lingering longer and his gaze fond. “I’m glad, glad that you’re okay.”

If you had a major injury

"What?" His charming smile disappears, words slipping through a frown of gritted teeth, daring (even hopeful) for the person to say it's a joke. The answer doesn't matter, he can tell from their expression. He only allows a flash of pure terror to be seen by them, pushing through the crowds of people to reach the hospital.

When he bursts into the room to see you, his eyes fixated on yours. He freezes at the door, processing everything now while you are there, alive, in front of him. He refuses the voice in his head feeding into his fears, making him scared to come closer for a confirmation. He might have to face it: a loss and an emptiness.

But then you weakly smile and reach out for him; and he can finally breathe again. He is so urgent that he stumbles to get there, to give you comfort. Finally, when he sits next to you, you can see closer the joy but weariness in his expression. He has a smile unlike Kaeya, ridden with anxieties and unable to fool even a domestic dog. He pecks your hand and sandwiches it between his, familiar warmth wrapping around your hand. You start to fall asleep, exhausted by the events of today, and Kaeya overlooks worryingly. These injuries happen all the time, it's part of the job, but it doesn't make it any better to see - especially when it involves you. He swears and curses under his breath, not wanting to wake you up. 'It's best for her to get some rest', he tries to assure himself from his concerns, but he can't stop his stupid leg from shaking. He hangs his head, still clutching your hand, and he allows a few tears to fall despite himself. He closes his eyes and focuses on the touch of you, calming down and slowing down his breaths knowing that you are here, alive and well, next to him.

When you wake up, Kaeya's head lies uncomfortably asleep with a disturbed expression on his face. Your hand is intertwined with his while you both were sleeping, seeking that familiar heat that made you feel ever better. He mumbles in his sleep, his grip tightening on your hand as often as his eyebrows furrow. Your touch soothes him, the tension and wrinkles on his face vanishes when you lovingly stroke his hair or gently caress his cheek. As long as he can feel your warmth, he can sleep much better.

He would either find it through his acquaintance in Mondstadt’s hospital or be told at the winery. 

It’s not pleasant either way, especially since there would be a period of unsettling silence after the metaphorical beans have been spilt

His interrogating is less subtle than Kaeya, very straight forward and to the point so he can get to where you are faster with preparation

Diluc uses the classic, intimidation method that is amplified by his resolve to see you and assure himself that you are safe

If you had a minor injury

You hear soft knocks on your door and a tentative voice asking from your lover, giving you a forewarning before he comes in. He doesn’t waste a second to be by your side, assessing your injury in closer detail then lightly scolding you out of the worry. It might take 2-6 minutes just for him to calm down and get it all out. Diluc is sensitive to your injuries, fearing the worst when anything happens, and he finds it childish; always trying to hide it with his lectures. This grumpy façade falls quickly, like always, after reassurance from you and inspecting your wellbeing with his own eyes. 

Diluc sighs, "...but it's a minor injury, and you’re Y/n L/n.” He smiles assuredly and it encourages you because of how confident he is of you.

He’ll cling to you, self-aware of his behaviour and evidently embarrassed about it, but does it nonetheless with pink cheeks. You pretend not to see when he hesitantly leans on you or when his hand lingers on yours while you both chat about everything else. Soon you’ll find him pecking your cheek or kissing you more than usual

“It’s to make you feel better.” He mumbles going in for another after you tease him about it. Kisses are one of the things he uses to be expressive for his love for you, so he becomes generous when you get hurt like this and gets more affectionate to hopefully “love” the pain away.

If you had a major injury

Diluc is shell shocked; colour draining from his face in favour of raw fear. He is reminded of the dreadful past and it toys with his heart, stringing it along to his vulnerability of you. He fails to fully grasp his thoughts but his legs move on their own to see you, to feel you and to know for sure that you're okay. He pushes and shoves through people in his way, silent to anyone that approaches. He finds it hard to breathe, maybe it's how he ran to the hospital or the tight cinching in his chest.

When he enters your room, he'll take in your form and process the injuries you've sustained. He looks more horrified and panicked the longer he looks. He beats himself over it and swallowing the growing shame in his throat. ‘How could I have let this happen?’ Past buried memories come alive and it gets harder for him to stay grounded. These things don’t go away easily, he knows from experience, and he’s afraid of the unknown future and of what will happen next. What if you don’t recover and... Bad thoughts choke him up and he wallows deeper into it.

But then you smile, like nothing is wrong; even though that small action took so much energy and you end up wincing in pain. Diluc looks heartbroken.

No moment is spared when he is next to you, he'll even fall on his knees and just, cry. It's like all this tension in his chest is released at once. It's scary, worrying even, and you start to wonder who's supposed to worry over who. You stroke his hair and mumble comforting words, his sobbing dissolves into embarrassed sniffles. He remarks on it, but you reassure him that it's endearing.

You both might fall asleep like that; your hand on his nest of hair and his head on the hospital bed. There are some times you wake up and see Diluc awake in cold sweats, tightly gripping on the covers of your bed, pale as a ghost in the night. He tells you to go back to sleep and rest, but you wait until he does. He guilty stares at you as you stay up, half-awake at 2am, about how it’s fine and how it’s going to be okay. He shakes his head and looks pitifully at you, flinching at your injuries - more effected than you are. It makes you upset and a little frustrated, so you sigh and reach out to him. He leans close and you kiss him on the forehead, expressing a passionate-believe me glare. Then he remembers that he trusts you, you are the Y/n he loves. He smiles gratefully, and when you wake up in the morning he is still snoring asleep. 

🌼💫 Hello, sorry for the inactivity, it’s just that I got quite stuck. But now it’s over and this is the result :) This is a very very long post, so I had to put a “keep reading” or else people uninterested would have to keep scrolling for 5 minutes. A reminder is that this is what I hc Diluc and Kaeya to act, it’s not definite and it’s fine if you disagree because this is imaginary and based on subjective perceptions. If you do enjoy these hcs, do check out my blog for more and tell me if you do!

[appleciders]

Rachel + Leah + Water, the Director’s Cut!

Okay, so I made this gifset exploring Rachel and Leah and the ocean, but because there’s a ten gif limit and a major point of gifsets is for them to look nice, I had to sacrifice a lot of the behind the scenes thoughts and initial versions that came along the way. I still wanted to talk about them though, because I found a lot of them really cool, so I figured I’d stick all that in this post. It’s gonna get long, so you can find the rest under the cut!

So first up, we have Leah as we first see her in the water. (I’m using shitty screenshots because tumblr has a 2mb limit for gifs on text posts and I don’t feel like compressing these down lmao.) Here, she’s face-down, unconscious, floating on a fragment of the plane. This is the first time we see any of the girls in the water.

As Leah gives her dramatic speech talks to the detectives, we see flashbacks to the girl’s lives pre-island. There we see that one of them already has a very strong relationship with the water already, in her before-life: Rachel.

Rachel, as we know, is a diver. We see her take a magnificent tumble into the pool, but when she surfaces, her coach is sternly head-shaking. She corrects Rachel’s form, and after she walks away, Rachel echoes the correction, clearly frustrated with herself. 

Back to Leah. We next see Leah waking up on her lil chunk of flotsam. When she realizes what the hell’s going on, she does what we all would do and starts screaming in terror.

Her panic gets interrupted by Jeannette’s classic Raise Your Glass ringtone. (This was my alarm for two years in high school, and when I watched this for the first time I did have an out-of-body experience). She swims her way over to the Hello Kitty suitcase and—irrationally—unzips it, but we’ll cut her some slack because she’s in some serious shock. As she tries to get the phone, it slips through her fingers and starts spiraling down to the bottom of the ocean. She dives after it.

Unfortunately, she quickly runs out of air and has to give up. She then spots Jeannette floating nearby, checks her out, judges her to be “just a little roughed up,” and then sees land and has a big oh-thank-fuck moment. Because we saw Gretchen’s team placing all of the girls, we know that Linh and Leah were the only two that were put out in the open water. The other girls were put in the beach, or, in Martha’s case, near the shore. This was probably done to quell some of Leah’s suspicions about the crash, but it does give me a couple questions about how they got the other girls wet—did they hose them all down? Pour a couple buckets over their heads? Bob each of them up and down a couple times in a big net like fries in a fryer?? 

Anyway, not important. 

Next that we see, Leah has pulled Jeannette/Linh in from the water. (My Australian parents, who can never pass up an opportunity to give ocean safety tips, chimed in at this point in our first watch to say “See how she’s doing it! You always want to hold someone from behind and pull them in that way. Good job, well done.” So there’s some approval for you, Leah.) As Leah nears the shore, Dot and Toni come tearing in and they help pull the two of them out. 

The rest of the episode after that really only concerns fresh water—Toni and Shelby set out in search of it, to no avail, and Nora helpfully plugs Diet Coke reminds us multiple times that sugar’s heavier than water, so “sugar sinks.” We do set up a goal for the next couple episodes, though: Rachel says, “I'm gonna swim out to the plane tomorrow. See if I can find anything,” and Leah volunteers to come with. Rachel gives her a nod of respect.

Moving on to episode two, we have Rachel and Leah’s (iconic) first real conversation. Rachel says she’s still going out to the wreckage. Leah looks out and looks back at her, incredulous, and says, “Rachel, the water’s insane.” Here’s a big recurring association—the water and “insanity.” (I use insanity here because that’s the language they use, along with psycho/crazy. In no way does that reflect my actual beliefs about their behavior nor am I condoning the way they use those words.) Leah points out the rip current (“well done,” said my mum), and explains her very brief stint as a norcal surfer. Rachel still looks set on going, but then Leah says:

Turns out, Leah can be as ripe with foreshadowing as Fatin. This marks the appearance of their second main association with the ocean—death. After she says this, Leah turns Rachel’s attention inland, and the two agree to climb a big hill to scope out their situation.

Episode two is also obviously Rachel’s episode, so we see a lot of her relationship with diving. 

We see her plunge over and over and over again, drilling technique and form, but despite all her hard work, we learn her coach advised her to quit the team. Instead, Rachel throws herself in twice as hard, and ends up with an eating disorder. By the time the nationals come around, she’s too physically weak to dive safely, and she ends up hitting her head as she goes down. She surfaces in the pool with blood flowing around her.

She refuses to see that as the end of her diving career. She says she’s gonna “get back out there” and “be fucking great again” and she tells Nora at the end of the episode that she needs her to let her believe that.

In episode three, we finally see Leah and Rachel’s trip out to the plane! Nora comes along with them, her relationship with Rachel smoothed over after the events of ep two. “Nora’s a good swimmer,” Rachel explains as she invites her, “We were both water babies.” Water’s clearly been central to Nora and Rachel’s identities since they were really young. 

The three of them make their escape from the rest of the girls as the topic of building a shelter comes up. “Not interested in putting down roots!” Rachel calls. In keeping with the elements theme, Rachel isn’t looking to be grounded. She climbs super high into the air and she dives deep into the water, but earth isn’t her thing. (See: the quicksand scene. Whoops.)

Anyway, the three of them paddle out into the water. Rachel dives down, scopes out the plane, tells Nora she doesn’t expect her to “fucking free dive in open water,” and then looks to Leah and asks if she’s ready. Leah reluctantly agrees. 

We get our first shot Rachel swimming down into the ocean and our second shot of Leah (first the phone, second the plane). In the wreckage of the plane, they discover the black box, affixed to the wall. They keep trying to wrench it free, but it’s stuck, and Leah—who’s primary activity is, like, reading—keeps having to surface for air. Rachel gets frustrated and grabs her leg, holding her down. 

Leah screams and fights, but Rachel doesn’t let go. We cut away, and when we see them again, they’ve emerged victorious (Rachel) and drowned as dogs after a bath (Leah and Nora) with the black box in hand. Later, Leah mutters the above line to Fatin, calling Rachel a “psychopath.” For those keeping score at home, here’s where we refer back to the association between water and “insanity.”

In episode four, the ocean benevolently bestows a bag of takis upon Nora, and we have our whole shelter-building shebang. It’s all very land-based until Leah and Fatin go head to head, which ends with Fatin smearing her blood all over Leah’s face. Leah, with her usual flair, strips off her clothes as she walks into the ocean. She stays down there, passively letting the water wash the blood from her face.

This shot parallels a couple things. First, the drifting blood visually parallels Rachel in the pool after her diving injury. Second, we have Rachel staring out at the water where Leah’s disappeared and going, “Man, that is some real Virginia Woolf-type shit.” Dot has no fucking clue what she means, so Fatin interprets: “It means that bitch is crazy. She said you were the psychopath of the group.” Now it’s Leah who’s done something in the water that’s been deemed insane. The water and “insanity;” the water and accusations of insanity within their relationship. 

Those accusations pop up in episode five, but the episode is pretty focused on the inland search for Fatin, and revolves around fresh water, not salt water. (That could be a whole nother post lol.) It’s in episode six where we again see these two return to the ocean. 

Rachel is diving in the ocean! For fun! She’s picking up pretty shells (which granted isn’t the safest thing to do in the pacific, cone snails are not our friends), and she’s grinning, and she’s generally enjoying herself. With the, uh, finale situation, we’re probably not gonna get to see her smile for a bit, which is sad, because she should get to do this more often! This shot visually echoes her diving for the plane and Leah diving for the phone, except she can be in a better mood because there is no end goal. 

So she goes diving, ends up finding a bunch of mussels, gathers ‘em up, and brings ‘em back to camp. They all chow down, but wind up with serious food poisoning. Martha and Toni ring death’s doorbell a couple of times. Rachel blames herself—she’s the one that went swimming out there, she brought the mussels back. Again, we see that connection between the ocean and death.

And that association comes back bright an early in ep seven! The tide surges higher than they’ve ever seen, taking down their shelter and leaving them all scrambling. 

While Leah convinces Fatin that her life is more important than her suitcase, Rachel is left with a decision: help Nora, screaming to her from where she’s clinging to a rock for dear life, or grab the black box. In a move that contrasts Toni’s immediate and unquestioning aid of Martha, Rachel picks the black box. 

After, when they’re debriefing, Nora’s quick to bring it up. She doesn’t hide her hurt. “It happened so fast,” she says, “we all acted irrationally. Like Fatin, who jumped into a rip current to save her toothbrush. Or Rachel, who left me for fucking dead.” I think this counts as a double whammy for the “insanity” and death count—I think “acted irrationally” is as close as Nora gets to calling anyone crazy, and is honestly a better descriptor of all the other instances of “insanity” that we’ve seen, and the ocean was the source of the very real risk to Nora’s life. 

(Honestly, I think Rachel thought she was making a rational choice here—just with some grim fucking calculus. Still, given that nobody’d responded to the black box by then, I think it was a decision fueled by the need to keep hold of hope more than actual rationality.) In a fun contrast to the rest of the episode, it’s Leah that keeps a level head in this situation. 

The rest of the episode is low on water scenes, though Leah’s paranoia about Shelby is fueled by her sneaking off to the water, which could fall under the “insanity” category. It also marks where Nora begins to take an active role in breaking apart Rachel’s fantasy about diving again. 

Ep eight has one of the best montages in a series of great montages, with the playing in the water scene! A plane has seen them, they’re gonna be saved, and they all get to get high and act like kids. 

I have this lingering and probably irrational concern that the entire water play scene is choreographed and that it’s chock-full of foreshadowing. Like I know to some extent they likely were just like “yeah guys go goof off in the water,” but like...the wave pulling Rachel and Nora apart here...I mean.... (Rachel is probably gonna get more blood on Dot in the near future, too. ) That aside, their horseplay gets interrupted when Leah notices some blood on Dot, which Rachel realizes is her own period blood.  

Fatin then chimes in with her ever-gleeful foreshadowing: “Shark week for Rachel.” So while this whole encounter with the water actually seems mostly good for a change, it’s colored by the tie-in to what we know is coming.

In ep nine, reality has set in that rescue isn’t imminent. Everyone’s starving, Leah has started to spiral, and Rachel’s unusually skittish. By the tide’s edge, Nora asks for her help fishing, but Rachel refuses, saying that she’s weak. Nora flicks water at her, and Rachel flinches, clearly scared.

Starvation seems to have triggered Rachel’s trauma around the water leftover from her diving accident. In response, Nora reaches out a hand and says, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Meanwhile, Leah’s spiral has reached critical. She starts ranting about the ocean and the water and pushes past Dot, sprinting into the waves:

And so she’s taken to heart the way they think Jeannette’s body “escaped” the island—the tide—and it’s been spun like cotton candy in her head. She’s right, technically—Jeanette/Linh’s body was moved off the island by boat, and there’s definitely an argument that if they really did all swim out Gretchen’s team would save them, or at least try to. This is also a very real suicide attempt. So it’s kind of a culmination of the threats of death and mental health issues that’ve been wrapped up in the ocean since the start.

On Rachel’s end, Nora has taken her up to a cliff. Rachel calls the whole thing “borderline insane,” walking up when they’re so low on energy, but Nora tells her she needs to make a truce between herself and the water. 

“You’re afraid of it now,” she says, and Rachel replies that, “All it ever did was make me sick.” Nora immediately surges forward to say “That’s not true!” Rachel, incredulous, says, “Isn't this what you want? For me to hang it up? For me to forget the whole fucking diving game?” Nora says, “No. I don't know. I don't want you to forget you.” She then tells Rachel she should dive off the end of the cliff, that she marked it to make sure it’s safe. Rachel says she can’t.

There’s a lot here. First, there’s the first time we’ve seen of Rachel explicitly call herself sick. In episode two, even in a treatment center, she still denies it, says she’s just an athlete who knows what it takes. But now she’s reached a place where she acknowledges her eating disorder—and also probably her recent illness with the mussels—and ties it directly to the water. It’s the reason she’s sick.

Nora’s fear that Rachel will forget herself also just hammers home how central the water has always been to Rachel’s identity. Cutting herself off from the water would be cutting off a core part of herself. (...whoops) And we’ve seen that it does bring her actual joy, when she’s allowed to relax with it, but she’s had such traumatic associations rolled up into it now. Nora doesn’t want Rachel to do diving as a sport anymore, because of how badly it’s hurt her, but she does want Rachel to keep diving and swimming as like, a form of unevaluated personal expression.

At the moment that Rachel’s refusing to jump, she and Nora hear shouts from the mainland. They see Fatin and Dot screaming after Leah. Confused, Nora asks, “Where is she going?” but Rachel understands immediately, with absolute certainty, without needing to be told—“To fucking drown to death.” Seven episodes after Leah called heading into the water a death wish, she’s finally proving it true. Rachel squares her shoulders, takes a few deep breaths, and sprints into a dive. 

Unlike all her other dives high altitude dives we’ve seen her do, this dive isn’t qualified based on aesthetics. This dive matters because of what it will do, not on how it looks. And what it does do is bring her into the ocean, where she needs to be for her friend. So with strong strokes, she swims out towards Leah.

When she reaches her, she takes hold of her, pulls her into her chest from behind. She begins to swim with her back to shore. This rescue directly parallels Leah’s rescue of Linh that we talked about above. It also, as the Out in the Wilds podcast insightfully pointed out, really calls Rachel and Leah’s relationship back to the beginning. Whereas Rachel had initially held Leah down in the water, putting her in danger of drowning, Rachel here pulls her out of the water, saving her from drowning. Together, they make it all the way back to the shore.

Finally (and, like, if you’ve made it all the way down here? bless you. thank you), we have episode ten. The ocean doesn’t really figure into episode ten until the very end. Rachel has had a long episode of healing—she’s happy to be full and she’s in a good place with her sister and things seem to be going pretty okay. She decides to heal her relationship with the water, too. She heads out, telling Nora that she’s “Just gonna float, Nor. Just float.”

Just floating. After all the times we saw her plunging into the water, purposefully, with frustration, with drive, with so much to prove and with so much sacrifice and self-abuse to prove it with, Rachel finally just wants to float. She wants to let herself relax. She wants to let the water carry her.

Of course, that means there has to be, like, a massive marine carnivore waiting to mistake her for a seal.

Visually, this shot really parallels the opening shot of Leah on the fragment of plane. Instead of being face-down, though, she’s face-up, and she’s conscious, just not of the threat from below. 

The shark bites.

In a horrible parallel to Leah’s Virginia Woolf moment and Rachel’s diving accident, we see blood pool in the water. Rachel is pulled under. The girls on the land start screaming and running toward her. We know Rachel doesn’t die, but this is still a near-death experience, one that probably cost her her arm. Leah, covered in dirt and her own blood after crawling out of the pit Nora led her into, can only stand and watch, shocked and horrified.

So that got! Way longer than I meant it to! And honestly most of this was condensed into very concise tags in a post I made a few days ago! But if you made it all the way down here, you’ve now seen everything I wanted to fit into that gifset but couldn’t. Thanks for sticking with me, friend <3

[simpsiren]

mark lee x reader

description. Over the years of being a close friend of Mark Lee, I realised that my platonic love for him slowly began to develop into a feeling far beyond the love of a friend; it’s just simply what happens when you love someone.

genre. FLUFF! JUST FLUFFY FLUFF! your classic best friends to lovers!au

word count. 2.8k~

warnings. nonee

a/n. hellooo! adding onto this series, i really wanted to do this song by day6 because its just so sweet and romantic cjdndndn

“It was a hard day wasn’t it?

It hurts my heart just looking at you

There’s not much I can do for you except being next to you, I’m sorry.”

I laid down on the couch in pure silence, the noise coming from the clock above me ticked ever so softly as the seconds passed that turned to minutes, that turned to hours as I waited for Mark to come home.

He offered me to stay at his place for the weekend. Well actually I invited myself over since I have always done that and he doesn’t mind. He’d always welcome me. I came here in the afternoon, his keys hidden under the welcome rug outside his apartment. I didn’t go out. I knew he was about to come home from work, but I got worried when I looked at the time on my lockscreen. “One in the morning? Where are you markie...” I couldn’t help but mumble under my breath.

Mark wasn’t one to get home late. Except for when he’s drunk. But he wouldn’t be out drinking if he wasn’t with me or his other friends. He would’ve texted me before he drank as well. it was out of the ordinary for him to not be home yet, which was why I stood up from the couch and frantically started pacing back and forth from one end of the living room to the other, thinking if I should go out and search for him.

“Fucking hell.” I gave up, refusing to stay put. I grabbed whatever belongings I could, which was only my wallet and shoved it into my sweatpants. Before I could reach my hand out for the doorknob, the door swung open, revealing Mark.

I looked at his figure. He’s extremely tired. His posture was terrible with his slouched body, his eyes looked like they were about to close at any second, his face was droopy and it felt like he could collapse if he doesn’t make a run for the bed.

“Mark! Where were you?!” I half-shouted, moving myself to the side to make way for Mark to come in. He dragged himself, feet sliding against the floor with each step. I closed the door for him. I watched as he made his way to the closest most comfortable spot, which was the couch.

He dropped himself onto it, his face planted against the pillow. He didn’t even bother moving his body to get comfortable. He just laid there. Sighing, I walked up to him, bending down on my knees and tapping his shoulder lightly. “Mark... Are you drunk?” I whispered, seeing his body moving up and down as he breathed.

Mark groaned, turning his body so that his back was against the couch. He grabbed a random pillow and hugged it tightly, his face digging into it. My heart softened at the act, but it also made it ache as I noticed just how tired he looked. I began to wonder what happened at work, or anything that happened for him to end up like this. He’s so worn out physically that it just somehow pained me to look at him.

I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to bother him for an explanation. Instead, I brought my hand up warily to his hair, threading my fingers through his black locks and patting his head as he slowly fell asleep. His eyes were closed, but I couldn’t tell if he was just closing his eyes or was he actually asleep. I assumed the latter.

I stared at him, when I hoped that he finally slept so that he wouldn’t think that I’m weird for watching him sleep. His figure made him look small and fragile, innocent and sweet, which he was. He was everything that’s bright and soft and loving. And that’s what I liked about him.

I decided to sleep next to him on the floor, my head resting on his arm. I felt bad. I didn’t know what to do. How to be there for him, how to help lift off some burden or the things that’s made him end up in such a state. I’d do anything to make his life lighter. Isn’t that what a best friend should do? Sadly, I could only be here for him. Just like this, next to him. Despite thinking that it wouldn’t even help, I’d still do it, since I just liked having his presence next to me.

“You’re so beautiful when you smile

So whenever I see you’ve lost your smile

I want to give it back to you

Whatever it takes.”

The next morning, I was the first to wake up. Just like last night, I stared at his sleeping figure. It calmed my heart seeing out peacefully at sleep he was. I smiled softly. Slowly but surely, I lifted a finger up, tracing his features in the air, the urge of wanting to touch his face was there, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to wake him.

I stood up and went to make a simple breakfast. Toasted bread with butter. I made two in case Mark wakes up so I wouldn’t have to make him wait while I make another. I went back to the living room, sitting down on the floor again and turning on the tv to watch Netflix. I lowered the volume, considerate of the sleeping Mark behind me.

As I munched on the toast and watched the show will full concentration, I was immediately alerted when I felt something weighted on my left shoulder. I turned lightly, seeing Mark’s head resting. His eyes were still closed. Shocked, I couldn’t help but flinched, which sent Mark’s eyes flying open and making contact with mine. “What?” He whispered.

“Good morning to you.” I breathed out, trying not to freak out at the fact that Mark’s face was so close to him as I faced forward instantly to continue watching the show. “Sorry about last night. Coming home late I mean.” Mark said, his morning voice tone shining through. Another thing I liked about Mark. He used to call me first thing in the morning sometimes, I liked hearing his voice. But to have it this close to my ear, I really had to stop my urge of screaming and jumping out of my skin.

“You had me worried sick.” I said, my words muffled as I chewed on my food. Mark exhaled, his breathe warming up a part of my skin that sent a shock all over my body. “Last night was rough, physically and mentally.”

“Work?” I felt his head lifting off my shoulder as I heard him moving his body so that he’s sitting normally. I turned around, waiting for his answer. I noticed how his eyes got gloomy, a looked I didn’t see on him for a long time. It was only for a split second. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared. “That. And other things you don’t have to worry about.” Mark smiled softly, reaching forward to grab the other toast and taking a bite.

I finished mine, I rested my head on the palm of my hand as I leaned against the table. “Don’t lie.” I simply stated. I knew that he knew that I knew him well. I knew when he’s feeling down, when something’s out of place. He could never lie to me. He’s terrible at it. With a defeated sigh, he brought his hand with the toast down to his thigh.

“It’s just... Rose. I saw her cheating on me.” Mark muttered, looking down and fiddling with the hem on his white shirt. Now this, this thing, Mark in front of me, I felt a piece of my heart falling off. It broke me, seeing Mark without his smile, not hearing his laughter. It’s like the happy switch on him turned off and now he’s under the weather. I know he’d probably be standing in the rain pathetically if he could.

“I told you she wasn’t trustable.” I replied, not wanting to have that i-told-you-so tone to it. I didn’t like Rose. She’s always bossing Mark around, she’d force him to agree with her though I knew very well that Mark was uncomfortable. I didn’t like how Mark simply followed her, thinking it was love when really, it was abuse and manipulation.

“Thanks. I got your advice stabbed in my back now.” Mark ran a hand through his messy hair, strands falling back down to his face, some covering his eyes.

On instinct, I brought a hand up to sweep away the strands off his eyes, making him look up at him. I held his face in my hand, feeling his cold skin against my warmth. “Let’s go out. We can forget about her. We can go wherever you want. How’s that sound?” I put on a smile, one that I hope will cheer him up somehow. He responded, a light chuckle escaping his lips.

“You’re seriously the only one that can make my day.”

Thank you, but why wouldn’t you consider me any more than a friend? Is what I would reply, but I kept silent. Like I said and promised, I’d so anything for Mark Lee, whether he sees it as a gesture of a friend, or perhaps a potential lover. I don’t care what he thinks of me. I just want him to be happy, even if it meant sacrificing my unsaid feelings for him.

“I want to be hurt rather than letting you be hurt

I don’t want you to get hurt ever again.”

We came back home from running around the whole city. Going to parks, shopping malls for window shopping, did a photoshoot, and ended the way on the beach, walking at the shoreline as the sun sets. We got home at night, Mark stretched his arm over his head. “Today was so fun!” He shouted as he placed the take out that we got from the beach onto the kitchen counter. His giggles echoed as he made his way to the living room, which of course made me smile to myself like a dummy.

I chuckled, the day being recalled in my mind like scenes from a movie tape. It felt like any other day to be honest. But I guess it felt more special and serene since we didn’t experience such a day in a long time due to our separate lives interfering with our time together.

“I’m glad that you’re back to normal.” I said, unpacking the take out and throwing the plastic bags. I brought it to the living room where Mark sat down. I took the space next to him, not bothering to leave a gap between us.

Mark leaned forward to grab the coke can, opening it to take a sip and exhaling after. “I wouldn’t say she’s completely off my mind. But your plan definitely made me feel a whole lot better.” Mark suddenly laid his head on my shoulder, his soft hair brushing my skin. I shivered at the touch.

“All I can say is don’t let yourself fall in love with someone like her again. I don’t want you to end up like last night. I would take your spot if I could, so you wouldn’t suffer. But don’t be stupid.” I gave a firm advice. Like a child heeding his mother’s words, he nodded agreeably. “Got it, maam.”

“But who will ever treat me like you?”

“What do you mean?”

“They say I should find someone like my best friend. But no one does it like you do.”

I didn’t give a reply. His sentence resonated in my head. No one does it like me, Mark claimed. So why wouldn’t he even look at me as a woman?

“Loving someone

More than I can take

It’s so strange

When you love someone.”

Mark and I ended up falling asleep on the couch. I jolted awake suddenly. I searched for my phone which was hidden under a pillow, looking at the time and realising it was two in the morning. I looked over to Mark, who again was peacefully sleeping on my shoulder. All I could see was his fluffy hair. I sighed quietly as I examined him.

The more I look at him, the more I fell in love. I didn’t even have to see his face for the memories of us to come crashing at me like big waves against my heart. Though I never want to admit, and though I never thought that I even could feel this way, I whispered softly. “I think I’m in love with you, Mark Lee.”

“I want to be helpful even just a little bit

I want to be your resting place

If you think of me on a busy day

I’ll do my best to comfort you.”

The next morning, I woke up. Mark was gone. And I knew he went for work since I don’t work of Mondays like he does. I went along with my day, Mark’s laptop on my lap as I looked through my work emails and got some work done for the day.

Late afternoon, I got bored. Absentmindedly, my feet took me to Mark’s room. The first thing that caught my eye was his guitar. It leaned against the bed. I didn’t know why, but I had the sudden urge to take it to the living room. I walked up and grabbed it, forgetting the weight of it from not holding it for a long time now (though it wasn’t even that heavy).

I sat back down on the living room couch. I propped the guitar on my lap, one hand placed on the top part of the guitar while my other hovered over the strings. I forgot how to play to the guitar. Mark used to teach me. It was one of the few ways I got Mark to sit so close to me and to just have that bit his touch that I absolutely adored.

I pulled on one string, the sound ringing through my ears. I strummed on the guitar, not exactly caring about playing an actual song. My mind took me back to when Mark taught me how to play. It’s like I could feel his fingers on mine as he would scold, laugh and giggle with everything I do to the guitar. He would play me songs, he even sang. I could fall asleep every time I heard him play. His grey hoodie, thin glasses, messy black hair. The transparency of him; a feature I’ll always indulge myself with.

It was now seven. And at around seven thirty, the door opened. Mark walked in with his black suit and tie, his hair pushed back with hair gel though now it looked slightly messy. “How was work?” I asked, adverting my focus from the guitar and to him.

Mark plopped onto the couch next to me. “Brain deteriorating. Mentally and physically draining. Why did I even get this job?” Mark groaned and complained, running a hand down his face. I chuckled and punched his arm lightly. “You told me it’s because of the money.”

“Yeah well I’m starting to regret that I used to think money is everything.”

Mark snaked his around me, pulling me into his embrace. I was completely shocked and confused as to why he’s suddenly being so clingy. I liked it yes, but I never thought he’d grow attached to me in this manner. It made my heart race and my face heating up.

“Why are you-”

“Just... Let me hug you for awhile, please. You just make me feel at peace that’s all.” Mark whispered, digging his head into the crook of my neck as the two of us just sat there in silence, admiring each other’s presence.

“Mind playing something?” Mark asked. I chuckled lightly, giving a gentle smile. “I play like shit.”

“It’s fine.”

Comfortable silence filled the room for a moment. I wasn’t sure how to feel. I could already feel my cheeks burning and probably blushing a light pink. I gulped.

“Since when were you like this?” I questioned curiously. Mark looked up at me, his face looking as cute and indulging as ever. “Since I liked you?” He replied in a cheeky manner. My eyes widened. “Wait what-”

“Shush. I wanna sleep.” Mark pulled me closer to him. I looked down and saw that he’s closing his eyes with a light smile on his face. I couldn’t believe it. Mark likes me after all this time...? “Play me something to sleep.”

“Why?”

“I like you, _____.”

I didn’t reply, wanting that to be the last thing I heard from Mark before he changed his mind. Slowly, I strummed on the guitar, trying my hardest to make it sound decent. Mark giggled softly and gave up, his hands traced from my arms and to my hands, his head still on my shoulder with his eyes closed. He guided my fingers with each strum ever so carefully.

“I like you.”

[static-fanatic-1]

Tattooed-Uvogin

(Tattoo Soulmate AU- Where tattoos are shared by soulmates, if a soulmate dies then the other looses their ability to have nen and the tattoo disappears. I love soulmate AU's, they're fun. Also when Uvogin gets the spider tattoo he will be 24.)

(Female Reader)

College is usually portrayed in two ways, absolutely fantastic where breaking into song is the norm, or a horrid experience akin to horny Lovecraftian creatures. In this case the song song type of college is the norm.

Most individuals in college receive a tattoo, whether it be their own or their soulmates. Usually it is a happy occasion when that happens. Most would flaunt their new mark and spit out how much they wanted to meet their soulmate, but (y/n) was an exception.

Junior year, the hope of a new age of adulthood quickly coming up. The twenty-two old started to strip. Why strip? Well because she had decided to wait her junior year to get her athletic credit, and because she wanted to see a tattoo if she were to get one. But the first reason is what people think. Practically tearing off the jacket she wore and tossing it onto a bench, (y/n) jumped at the sudden shrieks and hollers from across the room.

"Lilith! Holy shit look!" Deciding to see what the commotion was about, (y/n) leaned over to watch the event unfold. On her lower back, almost covered by her shoulder length blonde hair, was a beautiful koi tattoo. As if swimming the splash of blue, orange and cream colors contrasted beautifully with her deep skin tone.

"What?! Oh my god show me!" Lilith squealed, pushing away girls to get to the nearest mirror. The brightest smile decorated her pink lips and when she finally saw the new mark on her shoulder, she waved around her hands and jumped with unrivaled joy. "I can't fucking believe it!"

"Do you think he just turned 21? Like today's his birthday or something?" Another girl exclaimed, staring at the inked shin with awe.

"Probably! Most people get them when they turn 21. God I'm so excited! I'm posting this everywhere to see if someone answers."

More girls crowded around Lilith, the light tapping of gentle fingers bringing (y/n) back to her senses. Turning around the female met with her dearest friend. "What?"

"Ms. Venal will snap at us if we aren't ready, best not to get on her bad side again. She might make us do push-ups for a warm up again." The soft voice and her light brown hair and eyes pairing nicely with her shy personality.

"Oh shit you're right." Swiftly (y/n) moved back to the back of the locker room, pulling off her pants at the same time. Replacing them with gym shorts with the school logo she quickly followed by her favorite shirt.

Grabbing the school shirt she jumped when someone grabbed her shoulders from behind. "(Y/n)! Your back!"

Before (y/n) could protest she was pulled to her friends locker with a hand mirror shoved in her face. Hesitantly she grabbed it and moved it around her face, trying to see what Jessy was talking about. Finally, a large dark tattoo revealed itself on her lower back, spider legs and a white eleven in the center.

"Looks like a spider, but with twelve legs? Weird." Jessy replied, lightly tracing the many legs now inked into her friend's skin. "You seem... disappointed? (Y/n) you good?"

(Y/n) shrugged, surprisingly it was underwhelming compared to what she thought it would be like. I mean the weird spider on her back was the key to finding her soulmate right? Yet it still felt like a normal school day. "Kinda underwhelming I guess."

"Hey (y/n), you got one too? I honestly thought you wouldn't get one." The snarky voice of Lilith echoed in the locker room, a new hand placing itself on (y/n)'s shoulder. "A spider, really?"

(Y/n) gritted her teeth, Jessy moving to put on the last of her clothes. "They probably just like spiders, so what?"

"Looks like they don't know how to count, that's sad." Lilith remarked, poking at the inked flesh. "Didn't you get a tattoo not too long ago, what was it again?"

"A (favorite animal)." (Y/n) mumbled grabbing her school shirt and putting it on.

"Wow, classic."

(Y/n) pretty much had enough of this and turned to the blonde with vigor. Placing a figure on the new koi fish tattoo. "Wow, classic cunt."

The blonde scoffed, but was quickly interrupted when the teacher called out. "Girls, hurry up or you all are going to do more push-ups!"

Lilith mumbles underneath her breath, venomous words that didn't pass (y/n). "Go fuck yourself." She had said.

In a last ditch effort to get some satisfaction, the (h/c) haired girl turned to the blonde and smiled. "After you."

Man school was just dandy.

~~~

For some reason the drive home felt longer than usual, the songs uninteresting and slow.  But that didn't stop the sigh of relief when entering her home. Maybe telling her parents about the tattoo would bring up her spirits? They always wanted to see what it would end up being.

"Momma! I'm home!" (Y/n) yelled, letting the fact sink in to any occupants.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a snack, and paused. Her dad, usually sitting with his back straight and glasses on, now held his lenses with his face in his hand. "Hey dad, you're home early. Everything alright?"

Swiftly his head shot up, (h/c) hair messy unlike usual. "Huh? Oh, yeah yeah I'm fine, just a lot of work is all. We're still trying to find who stole Ruby Red, that jewel is worth a few billion Jenny."

The man's daughter pulled a chair and sat down across from him, opening her snack to start eating it. "I still can't believe someone was able to take it, isn't the security pretty high?"

"Yup, and Ruby Red wasn't the only thing they took. They took a few other gems too." Her mother butted in, placing a kiss upon her husband's cheek. "Whoever did it defiantly had help, you're dad placed too many security guards for it to have been one guy."

(Y/n) furrowed her brows, the fact it was more than one person sans all too surprising, but how did they get past the armed guards in the first place? "So what exactly happened? Like to the guards I mean."

"Well... that's just it. We don't know." The dad rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had built. "They just vanished... poof, gone. No sign of a struggle, no blood, all of it gone."

The mother removed her hand and pulled up a chair, sitting down and taking a sip of whatever is in her mug. "Yeah, pretty crazy stuff. I've been looking through the cameras and I think they have been tampered with. Whoever took the merchandise wasn't a rookie. They knew what they were doing."

"Who do you guys think did it? The mafia?" The daughter asked, looking at both her parents.

"A new group has been floating around, something called the Phantom Troupe. They are pretty much the worst of the worst." The brunette mother replied, placing her cup down and getting more comfortable.

"Worse than the mafia?" (Y/n) questioned.

"Pretty much, this gang took out the entire Kurta clan just a few months ago. They took their eyes and everything." There was a pause, easily taken up by the gravity of the situation her parents were in.

Her father butted in. "Anyway, anything happened at school? How's Jessy doing, she can come over for dinner tonight too. Martha said she was making lobster claws and steak."

"Ah, well, Jessy's doing fine and I'm sure she'd love to come over again. I'll go ahead and text her." (Y/n) pulled out her phone and did just that, asking if her friend wanted to come over again.

"What else, I feel like your hiding something." Martha asked, leaning closer to her daughter with a sly smile.

Small bits of sweat started to form on her brow, right now didn't exactly seem like a good time to talk about an odd tattoo. "Well I cursed someone out, that was fun."

Her dad groaned and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh my god was it that Lilith bitch again?"

"Edgar!" Martha snapped, slapping the man on his shoulder and she lightly scolded him. The both of them knew their daughters relationship with that girl. All they had to say is if the coward ever threw a punch, to lay her ass on that ground. (Y/n) was still waiting for her to throw it.

A small ping from a phone ringed, the daughter pulling hers out and slightly smiling. At least when Jessy comes over she would have emotional support over the weird tattoo. "Yeah, it was her again. Anyway, mom do you want any help, Jessy said she would come over."

"Sure, honey. I'd like that."

~~~

The air was tense, sweat slowly forming on (y/n)'s brows as her dearest friend babbled on and on about her early day bravery. "Lilith couldn't say a word to us for the rest of the day! It was hilarious." Jessy boasted, laughing at the sense painted in her head.

Though Martha and Edgar looked at their daughter dumbfounded. "Sooo, is there a reason why you didn't tell us about your new tattoo?" The mother asked, leaning on her elbow with her head in her hand.

"Ah, well you know, it's kinda embarrassing."

"Seriously, you didn't tell them?!"

"I said it's embarrassing!" (Y/n) reinstated, moving her hands in front of her face to attempt stopping the forming blush.

"So! Show us!" Martha exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

(Y/n) grumbled a bit and stood up from her chair, lightly pulling up the back of her shirt. On her lower back the sideways spider laid, twelve legs spread out for the world to see.

Silence followed, the air thicker than it once was. "Yeah, it's a little weird. Honestly it was underwhelming getting it." (Y/n) tried to release the growing tension with a light laugh, though it didn't do much.

"Y-Yeah, it is a little weird isn't it?" Edgar had replied, moving to lightly trace his fingers on the inked skin. "Well I don't think most people have twelve-legged spiders on their backs so it shouldn't be too difficult to find out who this guy is."

~~~

Those words meant so much now, after seeing the news talk about Ruby Red's disappearance and how it was linked to a group of mass murderers, the words felt heavy.

Changing to homeschooling was the first thing to happen, as having people see such a dangerous tattoo could endanger your family. Hunters would travel far and wide to catch the soulmate of a Phantom Troupe member, to sell or kill them for the highest price tag. So being around other reckless students was a big no-no.

Next was their home, moving to the outskirts of York New city to start fresh, where no one would know who they were. Getting a new job wasn't too difficult for Martha and Edgar, as security personnel was important everywhere.

Though (y/n) herself wasn't allowed a job, too risky they would say. And Jessy, well at least she was still there. The friend would visit every so often to catch up, and texting each other became an everyday occurrence.

It had been five years since that dinner, and now fear and anxiety ruled over (y/n)'s life. Walking on the streets it seemed every passerby was a possible hunter, just waiting to catch her and slit her throat.

(Y/n) could only trust Jessy and her parents.

The ringing of a phone smacked the female from her train of thoughts, papers she was once working on discarded. Picking up the device and placing it on her ear, a sweet voice rang with an excited undertone. "Yo, (y/n). Whatcha up to?"

A delicate smile pulled at the (h/c) haired lips. "Fine, just doing mom and dads paperwork. Kinda the only job they'll let me have."

There a was a light hearted laugh on the other side of the phone. "Well I'm going to have a few days off of work it you want to meet up and have a few drinks. I'll be coming in sometime tomorrow evening if you want to meet up then?"

"I'd love to, I'll just have to ask mom and dad, you know how they are."

"Yeah, can't blame them though. I mean it's scary."

"Yeah... I'll call you a little later with an answer okay? See you later Jessy, tell me when you get here and I'll pick you up from the airport."

"Alright, sounds good to me! Bye-bye!"

"Bye." Her smile faded when the phone call ended, at least it wouldn't be too bad. Now she just had to get on her knees and beg her parents.

Searching through the apps on the phone she ended up on the calling one, but paused. 'I'll just ask them when they get home, I'll drive over there soon.' Tossing the electronic on her bed (y/n) sighed and leaned back in her seat.

~~~

After plenty of begging and a semi-long drive to the airport, the now ecstatic girls drove around the city to wherever this bar was.

"Okay okay, (y/n), don't get mad at me but I invited a few other friends." Jessy timidly said, scrunching her body as close as possible to her seat.

"Who?" Was all said, making the other girl all the more afraid of an anxious outburst.

"Just a girl I met the bar once, her name is Shizuku. She said she's bringing another friend over, another girl. Don't worry though she's a bit of an airhead, an absolute sweetheart once you get to know her." Jessy relaxed, not noticing any changes with her friend's behavior. "Sorry I wanted to tell you but if you told Edgar and Martha they probably wouldn't have let you go! I just really wanted to hang out with you."

"Don't worry, mom and dad don't have to know." (Y/n) turned and gave a small wink before turning back to the road.

Jessy sighed, relieved to finally have some fun without much worry. "Oh oh! Right here!" The car slowly drove into the parking lot, the two searching for a spot to park. "Oh! They're over there." The two girls exited and quickly made their way to another pair.

The first girl Jessy walked to and hugged had shoulder length black hair and large round glasses. Large, plum doe like eyes gazed at (y/n) with innocent intrigue. Her casual wear consisting of a long black sleeved shirt and black shorts complimented her hourglass body type. She honestly looked adorable.

The other was a blonde clearly taller than her ravenette friend. Calculating eyes, short hair in a bob and a hooked nose gave her a demanding audience. The woman wore a red, low cut baby doll dress that ended on her mid thigh, and black heels making her even taller.

"Okay guys, this is (y/n), she's been my friend ever since middle school." Jessy placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, (y/n) shyly waving and saying hello. "And (y/n) this is Shizuku and her number two, Pakunoda." They too did the same thing.

"Alrighty! Now that we have all the introductions out of the way!" Exclaimed Jessy, grabbing (y/n)'s hand and waving for the other two to follow. "Let's get absolutely trashed!"

Pakunoda snorted and followed, all four of them entering the not-so-much-a-bar-as-it-is-a-club building.

Jessy grabbed a table, putting some of her things down to mark it as her own. "I'll go ahead and get something to get this party started! Anything in particular you guys want?"

Shizuku places a finger on her chin, deep in thought. Pakunoda wrapped an arm around the ravenette and shook her head. "Surprise us."

(Y/n) quickly waved her hands. "Don't get me something strong, I'll be the designated driver." She laughed, Shizuku finally making up her mind.

"Something fruity!"

She did somewhat seem like an airhead.

After plenty of drinks for the four, and pleasant conversation between the girls, Jessy was finally breaking under the alcohol. Her slim build swaying even when she sat in the booth's chair. "Y'all wanna hear a funny story? Or at least its funny to me." She slurred.

Pakunoda, sitting on the outside of the curved booth, leaned in. "Sure." Elbow now on the table and head in her hand. A delicate smile etched onto her lips, her eyes calculating as an extra hand served her drink.

(Y/n) listened to her start talking about Lilith, the old school bully having many stories about her. "I'm going to go to the restroom." She tapped Jessy's shoulders and moved over and out of the conversation.

Shizuku listened carefully to the slurring female, Pakunoda doing the same. Slowly the story became interesting, talking about receiving tattoos and snapping at the girl named Lilith.

But more importantly, a tattoo received on a lower back. (Y/n)'s lower back.

By the time said female returned all had paused, both Shizuku and Pakunoda silent but attentive. Jessy moved over to let her friend back in the booth they had claimed, Pakunoda placing a slender arm across her shoulders. "You have quite the temper don't you?"

Remembering what they had been talking about, the comment didn't surprise (y/n) all that much. "Lilith? Haha, yeah I hated her. She was difficult to deal with, always trying to one up everyone." (Y/n) waved her hand around to dismiss her temper, truly she couldn't stand people like Lilith. "Don't worry I'm much better now." Again she lightly laughed.

"You seem like it, you're so shy. I honestly didn't expect a story like that." Paku replied, leaning in a little closer.

"Which one was it? I've kinda snapped at her a lot."

"The one where ya' finally got yer tattoo~!" Jessy replied, sandwiching the poor girl between the two.

(Y/n)'s entire body went rigid, her breathing slightly labored by her hammering heartbeat. 'No, no, no Jessy couldn't have told that story, she wouldn't. She knows how dangerous it is for me already, telling people would make it worse!'

She would be hunted by hunters and the Phantom Troupe alike if the wrong people were to find out.

Doing her best to relax, her shoulders not so tense anymore. "Ye-Yeah, it's a bit of a strange one but I don't mind it too much. What time is it?"

Shizuku looked at her phone, her mouth wishing to yap about how Uvogin would love the girl. Or how Uvogin is just a call away from finding his soulmate. OR ANYTHING RELATED! But alas, the bone crushing grip placed on her thigh along with straight up saying it earlier, told her to shut it.

Now with a pouting face she checked the time. "It's 12:48."

Mumbling a short 'shit', (y/n) grabbed her purse and stood up. "Sorry! I was supposed to go home an hour ago!" She examined her phone with a pale face, not just from her tattoo being revealed, but the endless messages from her parents. "Does anyone need a ride?"

Jessy leaned in more, her lips ghosting (y/n)'s ear. "I would love to ride."

Pushing her drunk friend off, (y/n) made her way out of the booth, Jessy wrapped in her arms as the girl stumbled. "You two?"

Shizuku lifted her finger, her mouth opening to speak, but was quickly stopped when a hand smacked itself on her lips. "Don't worry about us." Paku replied, waving a dismissive hand.

"Al-alright. Well we'll be off then, take care!" Quickly grabbing her things, and Jessy, the two slipped out of the club.

Shizuku smacked Paku's hand away and pushed up her glasses. "What was that for?!"

Pakunoda shifted out of her seat, looking around at the other inhabitants of the establishment. "You were going to say something about Uvo, weren't you?"

The ravenette pursed her lips and turned away, scooting out of the booth as well. "So what if I was? It wouldn't stop us from getting her anyway." Whined the girl.

"It would have made getting her harder, she's already cautious of everyone." The two girls exited the bar, stopping to watch (y/n)'s car drive away. "Besides it won't be too difficult for Shalnark to find her."

"Didn't you touch her?" Shizuku pushed her glasses up once more, turning to wonder off to home base.

"Of course, she was very anxious the entire time, and she was weary of us from the beginning."

The ravenette hummed, both wondering through the lit up city. Smoke polluted the air of the alleyways they traveled through, the moonlight basking the criminals in an ethereal glow. The alleyway became too quiet, the once light sounds of buzzing insects feasting on the dumpsters silenced.

The girls stopped, looking at the empty sidewalk in front of them. They could sense two individuals, on in front of them and the other behind. Were the stalkers going to try and jump them? Did they know who they are? Well it doesn't matter, the stalkers will be dead soon.

"Well well well," A gruff voice echoed from behind. "Looks like the butterflies flew into the spider's web. How about you two be sweethearts and tell me about that friend of yours? The one with the (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes."

Shizuku turned around to face the man, noting the switch blade open and poised in his hands. "He has a knife, Paku."

The man 'tsk'ed slowly walking closer to the girls. Paku stared straight ahead, the other stalker finally revealing himself, a scrawny man with a baggy shirt and large knife.

Pakunoda sighed and pulled out her revolver, aiming straight between the scrawny man's eyes. "Never bring a knife to a gun fight." A quick pull of the trigger and a loud bang caused the man to fall over, a small hole oozing blood and smoke between his glossy orbs.

Shizuku summoned Blinky and with a quick bonk on his head, the gruff voiced man collapsed to the ground.

"Shizuku, is he dead?"

"I didn't hit him that hard." With a hum and a finger on his neck. "Nope, he's alive."

"Good." She swayed over to the man and placed a hand upon his cheek. A rush of memories and emotions entered her mind, like the ripples in water. "They weren't alone, they called others before following us. We should hurry before they find her first."

"They'll kill her won't they?"

"Probably."

"Uvogin would loose his nen if that happened, hmm, we can't let that happen."

Nothing new happened after their encounter, the dark streets now baron by the late night and the rundown buildings. Turning the corner to enter the hideout, a face revealed itself, young and distressed, their thin black brows furrowed.

No words were exchanged, the girls entering without a care. A sigh left the short man's lips as he walked with them into the church. "Machi had a feeling again. What happened?"

Shizuku hopped her way onto a pile of rubble and sat down with an impassive expression. "We were attacked by some thugs on our way back. Though, it was more like a one-way-massacre."

The entire Troupe was in the broken down office building, there were preparing to infiltrate a museum filled with priceless artifacts, but it might have to be postponed.

Feitan didn't look at Shizuku, already knowing her information may very well be useless. "Paku?"

"Shizuku's friend brought a number two as well, she just so happened to be a soulmate." Pakunoda teased, crossing her arms.

The small group playing cards stopped, even Chrollo averted his eyes from his book of interest. Feitan's brows lifted slightly, probably in surprise.

"Ah! That happened too."

Franklin snorted, placing down his cards and shifting to face Paku. Shalnark, Nodunaga, Machi, Kortopi, Bonolenov, and Franklin were huddled up in a small circle playing cards, though the game was now paused. Uvogin, the secret star of the show, was rooting for Nodu to finally win a game. "Who?"

A delicate smirk etched itself on her features, a slender finger pointing to the bear-like man sitting behind Nobunaga.

With that action taken, the bear-like man grabbed Nobunaga and wrapped his arm around his head. The other hand pulling out the ponytail and messing up his hair as a boisterous laughs echoed throughout the building.

Franklin smacked a hand on Uvogin's shoulder and congratulated them, Nobu yelling for Uvo to let go. Once he finally let him go, the shorter man smacked Uvo.

Uvogin didn't exactly care, all he knew is that his soulmate was found and that she was his next target. "Keep talking Paku." Uvo kindly ordered, curiosity taking hold.

"Well she's pretty cute, (h/l) (h/c) hair, bright (e/c) eyes. She's pretty attentive." Pakunoda waved her hands around, finding a seat on the opposite side of the large room.

Another hearty laugh escaped the bellows of his chest. "Finally! Took her long enough." He exclaimed, clapping and rubbing hands together. "Where is she?"

Pakunoda shrugged. "Her name is (y/n) (l/n), Shal will have to figure that out."

Chrollo hummed, grabbing the attention of the room. "Uvo, once you find out where she lives I want you to get her, it would be a shame if you lost your nen." He paused and placed a bookmark in his spot. "Paku does anyone else know?"

The blonde nodded her head. "Yes, the thugs overheard and called a few of their friends. I don't know how many."

Chrollo hummed once more, leaning in a bit closer to the group. "Once Shal figures out her whereabouts I want you and Nabu to go with Uvo. And be cautious, we don't know how strong the hunters will be."

Uvogin laughed, hands on his hips as he threw his head back. "I will."

"Found her!" Shalnark yelped, a bright smile stretched across his cheeks. "(Y/n) (l/n), lives in the New Found Apartment Complex about three blocks from her parents. Oh! Edgar and Martha (l/n), they work as security managers for the museum we were targeting." Shalnark excitedly exclaimed, waving his phone around in the air. "I'll send you the address, Uvo."

Feitan quirked an eyebrow. "She might know which hunters were hired to protect the exhibit."

Chrollo hummed once more, returning to his book with a calm expression. "That might be the case, if so then there we could be better prepared." The sultry voice of the boss explained further her use, not just for Uvogin but the entire team.

Uvogin cracked his knuckles, waving to Nobunaga and Pakunoda to follow. "Consider it done."

~~~

(Thats it everyone! Sadly Wattpad allows for larger chapters so this will be put into two parts to accomadate.)

[ethanramseyyy]

OPEN HEART: THIRD YEAR CHAPTER 1 thoughts and opinions

Wow. Wow. Wow. What a start to the new book. I am so excited with the start of the third book. One because I missed my husband and two because Open Heart is just my favourite thing ever. One thing though @playchoices where’s our baby Naveen?

Obviously the chapter opened up with explaining the changes to the hospital which by the way are INSANE. As much as I love the new and mordenised look, a part of me does miss the classic Edenbrook Hospital we have seen in the past 2 books. I really hope we get a fourth book and I know that the third book has only just started but when Elijah was talking about what was going to happen after their last year of residency, it really made me want to experience the rest of MCs career and obviously the more time we have with Ethan (Or whoever you are romancing) the better. I also like how ALL of the LIs were incorporated into this chapter and it wasn’t entirely Ethan based, because I know that annoyed a lot of people during book 2. RAF. I am so unbelievably happy that they kept Raf in the book, I mean they kind of had to but that’s besides the point. I am so happy for the Raf stans. YOU GOT YOUR MANS BACK.

I picked Ethan to tell me more info because I need to spend as much time with him as possible since I have to wait an entire week to see him again. BITCH when he took our hand I nearly choked. It is so so so strange to see him actually make a public display of affection considering what we went through in the past 2 books to even get him to admit he was in love with us. And our friends reactions. I adore the fact that they are so happy for MC and Ethan. I don’t think I will be the only person to say this butttt.... Leland DEFINITELY has a hidden meaning for taking on Edenbrook. There is something dodgy about him and I am glad that Ethan has also noticed it. I have a feeling Leland Blooms storyline about the takeover of Edenbrook is far from being over.

When I saw the nurses desk it was so bitter sweet. For a second I expected Danny to pop up from behind his desk and say Hey. He did not deserve to die and I will NEVER be over it. But anyway I obviously had to play every single diamond scene given to us for the opening chapter and so I accepted the chance to spend some time with our friends and take a tour of the new and improved facilities. I have to admit the new hospital sounds amazing. Almost too good to be true if I am being honest. I LOVED the little playful scene between MC and Elijah. We can all appreciate the fact that Elijah needs to be protected at all costs. And then it got a bit awkward for me because we had to choose who to have a massage with and obviously I am romancing Ethan and he wasn’t an option so I picked Bryce because why the hell not. I obviously didn’t pick any romantic options with him but I do love Bryce just not like my main man Ethan. I appreciate that the other LIs aren’t being as sidelined as they were in the previous book. Even though I am romancing the main LI of the book, it still angered me that so many people missed out on any interaction with their chosen LI in book 2.

My poor baby Baz. When it showed how sad he was, I was ready to fight anyone who had made him feel that way. And then he dropped the bombshell at the end of the chapter that he was leaving PERMANENTLY. I WILL NEED 2-3 WORKING DAYS TO PROCESS THIS INFORMATION. If he actually leaves I will be heartbroken. I love his character but I am very interested to find out why he is leaving which I presume we will find out in the next chapter. DR HARPER EMERY IS DEAD MEAT IF SHE THINKS SHES GETTING ETHAN. Is it just me or was she flirting with our man the ENTIRE time. Little does she know we spent some quality time together in a certain on call room 😏. I swear if she try’s anything with him, I will not hold back. It’s such a strange route for PB to go down with trying to make MC jealous over Ethan and Harper. To be honest I’ve always loved Harper but she WILL NOT have Ethan. Leland taking away Ethan’s leadership privileges was not okay. I enjoy dating my boss husband thank you very much. I think it makes MC and Ethan’s relationship that much more scandalous if you ask me. I did enjoy the bit were everyone agreed with Ethan despite Leland clearly trying to undermine his power. Never going to happen Leland. Get over it.

Then came the diamond scene where MC, Jackie and Sienna went shopping for the cocktail mixer. I did like the fact that we got a small scene of us actually going shopping for the outfit rather than having to pay diamonds just for the outfits. As I said before I did every diamond option possible considering the fact it is the opening chapter and to be honest I would have done it regardless because MC looked BOMB in that dress.

What made purchasing the dress even better was the fact that all eyes were on MC when she walked into the party. I chose to talk to Elijah because I just love him and I couldn’t say no to him. This meant that I got to see Zaid. Now I am not sure if everyone got to see Zaid or it was different depending on who you chose to speak to but I loved seeing him. I feel like we saw Zaid all the time in the first book and then he kinda just disappeared during the course of the second book so I am glad he made an appearance.

ETHAN GOD DAMN RAMSEY. Did you guys see that suit?!?! I almost choked to death he looked that good. And then that little cut scene!!! I think my family thought I was being murdered I screamed that loud.

OBSESSED.

And then we got the option for a ‘private, passionate end to the evening’ and lord knows I said yes. I know I keep saying this but I love that all 4 LIs were an option. The fact that scene was ONLY 18 diamonds. Bargain if you ask me. If any of you have watched Greys Anatomy it really reminded me of when Meredith and Derek had THAT scene at the prom. If you have watched it you know what I am talking about. Anyway, every single bit of that scene was perfect. When it gave us the option of him taking charge or MC, I was like BITCH we are in for a real fucking treat today.

After the absolute dream end to the evening spent with out man, we found out what was wrong with our patient because hello MC is the best damn doctor at Edenbrook. And you all know I picked the option that said ‘I am surprised that Emery didn’t figure it out’. Yes I know I am petty but Ethan and her are getting on TOO well considering they are exes so I have to claim what’s mine. Then Dr. Baz Mirani thought it was okay to announce that he was leaving the diagnostics team permanently. That better not mean he is leaving Edenbrook because I will put a stop to that straight away. Also, I need to know why because Baz is genuinely one of my faves and I really don’t want him to go.

I would LOVE to hear what everyone’s thoughts were on this chapter. Did you like it? Why do you think Baz is leaving? Do you think Leland has good intentions?

[lucywritesreid]

With Heaven Above You - Part 2

Summary: In this chapter, Reid and Y/N are coming closer to uncovering who the unsub is.

Warnings: Just a bit of swearing!

Word Count: 2.6k (I was going to split this into two but ended up changing my mind!)

Notes: Thank you for the feedback on part one! I’m tagging @rexorangecouny  @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks  @liaabsurd @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @101donuts

The next 24 hours or so flew by. You and Spencer had spent hours crafting the profile and accumulating evidence passed on by the rest of their teams whilst they investigated the murders. Hotch had accepted your revised profile and a comment about it being ‘especially good work’ had lifted both your spirits more than you cared to admit. By the evening, there had been no reports of any new missing persons, so you took the time to deliver the profile to various police departments and blue collar workers in the local area. The more people knew what to look out for, you hoped the more vigilant and safe people would be.

There was something powerful about delivering the profile together. On a couple of occasions a few male officers had directed questions specifically to Dr Reid. Spencer had sharply referred them to you and he stood watching you proudly as you answered. Despite his greater intelligence and experience within the FBI, he never took you for granted. He wanted people to see just how smart you were. Had the circumstances been happier, you probably would’ve wanted to go out and celebrate your partnership, or at the very least have a romantic evening indoors. But this case was unrelenting.

There had been a minor breakthrough. Garcia had been given permission from the phone companies each of the victims used to have unlimited access to their phones. Their phones had been brought into the office and she’d found out that each victim received a photograph of themselves from an unknown number in the hours before their disappearance. She was trying to find the source of the number, but it gave you all some hope that should you be taken – the unsub would try and track you down and photograph you first.

By the time you returned to Quantico, it was late, but you needed to work on the press release with Rossi and JJ. Spencer excused himself to go look through some files, and you spent the next few hours working through questions and specific trigger words you were going to use in order to taunt the unsub. “I think you’ve got this kiddo,” Rossi brought you in for a warm hug, “you’re gonna go out there and really wind up the bastard.”

It got to a point when you felt like you couldn’t stand up any longer. Tears stung your eyes as the battle to fight off a yawn was lost. Glancing down at your watch you saw that it was almost midnight. “I’m gonna go find the Dr, I’ll see you guys in the morning.” You kissed both your colleagues on the cheek and grabbed your coat from your desk, anxious to get home and try and get some sleep before tomorrow.

It was no surprise how you found Spencer. He was sprawled out across a small office’s burgundy carpet, an array of open files and photographs positioned sporadically around him. You stood for a few seconds and watched him, always fascinated by his approach. He was feverishly reading through files, using his index finger to focus his eyes on the pages as he read through them all at lightning speed. Most people would believe that this workspace was chaotic and messy. But you could see Spencer’s organisation even from your viewpoint. He’d arranged the victims chronologically in his circle and had layered over police and ME reports in between each case file. He truly was brilliant. Had it have been a few hours earlier; you wouldn’t have interrupted. But you knew he needed to go home, probably more than you did. “C’mon Spence. Even someone as handsome as you needs their beauty sleep,” you commented, leaning against the door.

He didn’t look up but he knew you were there. “Five minutes, y/n?”

“M’kay squish,” a nickname you reserved for when there was nobody else around, “I’ll go warm the car up.”

Spencer was five minutes on the dot. He hurried into the passenger seat and clicked on his seatbelt, throwing his messenger bag on the backseat. You looked in the rear-view mirror and saw that the bag was overflowing and stuffed with files, no doubt all the ones he was staring at in the office. It took all your willpower not to mention it. You desperately wanted to tell him to forget it for tonight and have a relax, but that would be futile. Spencer was passionate about his job and that was one of the many reasons why you were in love with him. The radio played classical music all the way home, Spencer’s favourite radio station and certainly not yours. He made a couple of comments about various composers playing and facts about their lives. It made you relax to hear him talk about something that wasn’t the case.

When you arrived home, you were seeing spots from exhaustion. Too tired to cook anything, Spencer warmed up some leftover Chinese food whilst you jumped in the shower. You popped on an old episode of Doctor Who and sat in silence as you both ate. When the episode finished, you glanced across the sofa and saw Spencer with his head propped up by his hand and his empty bowl falling off his lap. As quietly as you could, you turned off the TV, reached out and took the bowl from his lap and set it down on the coffee table, hoping not to disturb him. But he was an awfully light sleeper and the slightest movement caused him to jolt awake. “Oh god sorry y/n I guess I fell asleep.” You scolded him for apologising, took his hand and walked into the bedroom. You were asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

The next morning was spent preparing for your press conference. You dressed quickly but made the effort to put on something slightly more revealing and spent the time straightening your usually messy up-in-a-bun hair. Spencer hovered in the doorway as you finished putting on your make up, hands in your pocket as he watched you. You sighed. “I think it’s the best way to try and bait this guy if I at least look worth kidnapping,” You watched him shudder behind you. “I know, y/n. And you look beautiful. I just don’t like the thought of him thinking that.”

On your way out, you made sure to grab the purple pendant necklace that Spencer had bought you on your birthday two years ago. You fumbled with it between your fingers as you sat in the car as your own little signal that you were going to be thinking about him all day.

The press conference went off without a hitch. Thanks to JJ, there was wide media coverage, with cameras and crew from all various TV and radio news outlets, as well as a few reporters who had vouched to have the story printed on their websites within the hour. If this guy had any sort of access to media, which your profile stated he did, he would most certainly be watching. “And just to reiterate, we’re looking for a man who is awkward with zero social skills. This man is impotent, unattractive and holds a menial job. He takes no pride in his appearance and we believe he is a complete loner. No family, no friends. You’ve probably overlooked this guy a thousand times. There is nothing, I repeat, nothing significant about him at all.” You stared right down into the camera as you delivered your last line. You knew that was the sucker punch. This guy was a total narcissist and completely fame hungry. You hoped that by saying he was a loner with no life he would be outraged enough to try and track you down. “We are also not answering to any nicknames. This man is too irrelevant to be given one. If you have any questions or believe you have seen this man, you can call our 24 hour tip line. You can ask for me personally. My name is Agent Y/N Y/L/N with the BAU. Thank you.”

As soon as you stepped down the phone lines started ringing. Local police and members of your team were all taking it in turns to answer the calls, writing down numbers, disregarding any hoaxes. Morgan cheered you up after ten minutes by claiming that someone was asking if you were free for dinner, but other than that there were no significant leads in the first few hours.

Spencer had asked Hotch if he could continue looking over the files and he had disappeared back into his quiet room. You considered going checking on him a few times, but then it was your turn to man the phones alongside Emily. An hour or so in, you turned to her and asked, “have you had anything worthwhile, Em? Do you think we’re gonna get this guy?”

“I think you did an excellent job before, y/n. I’m sure he’s seething. I was surprised though when he didn’t ring directly after the first few minutes.” You nodded back to her. That was the outcome that you had been hoping for, but it hadn’t materialised. “Say,” she then added, “what’s Reid so fixated on? Do you think he’s got any leads?”

“Honestly Em? I don’t have a clue.”

The day felt rather anti-climactic. You’d set yourself up, hoping for some sort of breakthrough, but as the evening wore on and the numbers of staff on site dwindled, you realised there wasn’t going to be any new developments tonight. Following the same routine from the day before, you found Spencer, and coaxed him out of his little investigation room so that he would come home. The rest of the evening was extremely ordinary. You went to bed together and fell asleep even quicker than the night before. If that was humanly possible.

When you awoke, it was early. A stream of light from the slightly open curtains had interrupted your sleep. “We really should’ve shut the curtains properly,” you yawned and stretched a hand out to where you expected your boyfriends warm chest to be. But his side of the bed was empty. You opened your eyes and turned to his side. It was perfectly made up and his pyjamas were folded nearly on top of the pillow. That was odd. You both were notoriously messy and known for not being particularly proactive in a morning. Perhaps he hadn’t slept. You wondered just how early he’d got out of bed.

When you finally managed to come around you checked your phone to see if he’d sent you anything. Aside from a few late night memes from Garcia, there was nothing. Still, Spencer had gone to work on his own plenty times before. He liked to let you sleep in when his insomnia was bothering him. He’d probably just used his metro card and wanted to make a start on the case. That gave you hope that maybe his incessant thinking had given him a eureka moment.

You rolled out of bed slowly and stretched to stand. It would’ve been nice to go back to sleep for a few hours, but you figured if Spencer was already at work it was likely the others were too. You threw on a plain black shirt and capri trousers and added one of Spencer’s fluffy cardigans to finish it off. You liked the way you could fit your thumbs through the holes in the sleeves, almost like he was holding your hand. As you walked into the kitchen you shot him a quick text ‘see you at work babe.’ You turned on the coffee machine and figured you’d use one of Spencer’s mugs rather than dirtying a new one. He always had a coffee before he left, no matter how much of a rush he was in. And he always left a mug on the counter. It was usually the one with penguins on you’d got him at the Christmas market.

But there was no mug there. That stumped you for a second or two. He always had his coffee before he left, no exceptions. Then again, this case was doing crazy things to all of you. Surely it wasn’t unusual for one day? You poured two coffees into metal flasks to take with you and made your way to the front door. You reached up to grab your key from the right hook but it was empty. Huh. That was weird too. You quickly scanned your eyes and saw your key was on the left. But your key was always on the right and Spencer’s on the left. Had he picked yours up by mistake and swapped them over before leaving? That didn’t really make sense.

You had to shrug this off. It was getting silly, this overthinking. Save your energy for the case you said to yourself. Just as you were about to unlock the door, you looked down at your ‘enter the upside down’ door mat. Normally it sat perfectly on a right angle to the edge of the door. But it was almost completely twisted to the left. How had that happened? Why was Spencer in such a rush that he forgot his coffee, almost took the wrong key and messed up the doormat?

The ride to work seemed long. You were anxious to see Spencer and have the butterflies in your stomach go away. Guilt set in as you realised you were the last one to arrive, even though it was only just after 8am. You went straight for JJ who was stood by your desk. “Morning JJ,” you mustered a smile.

She returned the smile but looked around you, “Did Spence not come in with you this morning?” You shook your head. Shit. Did that mean he wasn’t here yet? By the time you had got ready and drove here the metro would’ve brought him in by now. “Um no, I thought he was already here…” The panic started settling in again and you frantically looked around the bullpen. “Where is he?”

You excused yourself from JJ but she followed, obviously sensing how tense you were. You tried the meeting room, Garcia’s den, the little cubby room he’d been working with, even Hotch’s office. When you asked Derek if he’d go into the bathroom to look for him, he said, “Listen baby girl, if you want to get your kicks off with Reid in working hours, I’d suggest somewhere more romantic than the men’s bathroom…”

JJ gave him a look, “We can’t find Spencer actually, Derek. But I’m sure he’s just on his way, y/n. I wouldn’t worry about it. Have you heard from him yet?” She reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away. This wasn’t right. His oddly made up bed. The coffee cup. The keys. The doormat. It was all pointing to something, but you just didn’t know what.

Without hesitation you ran into Garcia’s room and startled her. “Penelope,” you said trying to choke back tears, “I-I need you to trace Spencer’s phone for me.”

She didn’t question you just from the look on her face. Instead she nodded and set to work. You tried to focus on your breathing, but it was becoming shallower by the second. A sharp pain crept up into your chest and you balled your hand into a tight fist. He’s okay. He’s probably just gone somewhere to think. Or he’s late. That happens.

Your train of thought was quickly interrupted by Garcia. She spun round on her chair and the same worried look you had was staring back at you. “Y/n, h-his phone’s either switched off or died. I-I can’t locate him. I don’t know where he is.”

End of part 2

[kermitthequeer]

review: Color Rush

Disclaimer: This is my very own humble opinion. If you  agree with my review, I’m glad that I’ve found someone like-minded, if  you do not agree, that’s fine too. Every opinion is valid. Don’t hate me  for mine.

I do not speak any asian language and therefore I rely solely on subtitles. And we all know that they are not always flawless. So if I misread a situation or misunderstand something, feel free to inform me. Spoilers ahead!

Genre: BL

From: Korea

Known Actors:  /

Trigger Warnings: obsession, death, attempted suicide

Rating: 7.5/10 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐☆ ☆    

Synopsis: Yeon Woo knows the world is full of colors but he has never seen them for himself, he’s only able see the world in shades of grey. At least until the day Yoo Han comes crashing into his world. And it turns out that they are mono and probe. Means that Yeon Woo is able to see colors, everytime Yoo Han takes off his mask. While all this is going on, his aunt Yi Rang searches desperately for her sister who went missing years ago.

Main Character(s): Choi Yeon Woo, Go Yoo Han

Side Character(s):  Jung Joo Haeng, Kim Min Jae, Yoo Yi Rang

Short Appereance: Yeon Woo’s mother & father, the school nurse

Main Couple(s): YeonWooxYooHan

Side Couple(s): /

My review:

I went into this show trying to keep my expectations low - well as low as I can keep them. This was my third korean BL, before that I watched Where Your Eyes Linger and Mr. Heart and I liked both of them. Oh boy, I wasn’t ready for the rabbit hole I was going down.

I always try to remain a somewhat objective side in my reviews, so that everyone can enjoy it, no matter if they actually liked the show or not. I will try my best to do it with this BL as well, but just know that it’s not easy for me. The last few days were a wild ride and thanks to the pandemic and the semi-lockdown that we have for weeks now, I am in no good place to get emotionally attached to characters or series. But here I am.

In this review there will be a few terms that some may not know or understand and before I have to repeat myself, here a little definition:

Mono: A mono, is a person that isn’t able to see colors, even though they have everything they needed to. Their brain just can’t decipher them for some reason. Only, when they look at the face of a special someone called “probe” they are able to see colors.

Probe: A probe is a person which can see all colors and by looking at their mono, with their whole face uncovered the monos can see colors.

Color Rush: It’s something the mono experiences every time, he looks at his probe. The frist few times are pretty heavy and the mono mostly faints, but at a while the effects wear off.

Decolorating: After some time (e.g. the mono isn’t looking at the face of the probe anymore, they seperate) they begin to lose the ability to see colors again. It depends on different factors (e.g. how many colors rushes did you have, how close are you with your probe, etc.) The more you “get used to” your probe the longer you can see colors.

Anyway, let’s begin.

Yeon Woo and Yoo Han

In the beginning of this story our main character, Yeon Woo, explains his view on this whole mono/probe thing. He himself is a mono and his mother was also a mono. The chance for a mono to meet his probe is extremely rare and most don’t think that they will ever meet their probe at all - and so does Yeon Woo.

The problem with the whole mono/probe thing is that many monos are getting really often obsessed with their probe and the colors that they are able to see. The fear of losing them is driving them insane and therefore some monos kidnap, hurt and kill their probe.

Yeon Woo stance to that: A mono should never meet his probe.

After beating up some guy who made fun of Yeon Woo for being a mono, he has to transfer schools again. On his way there he explains that he can actually see different shades of grey and that his mother teached him the ten differenct shades of the grey color palette.

Introduction of orange hoddie guy. He slept on his desk but now he wakes up (the teacher’s don’t even care to wake him up anymore, love that). And after he introduces himself as Yoo Han, he wants to make very clear (perhaps too clear) that Yeon Woo is “really pretty”.

He even gets up from his chair and follows Yeon Woo across the room, to tell him that again. In case he forgot over the course of a few minutes. But hey, we all need a friend who constantly reminds us that we are enough and beautiful, go Yoo Han!

Anyways, Yeon Woo is minding his own business and stares at a poster and after Yoo Han once again admired Yeon Woo’s beauty, Yoo Han takes of his mask, that he was wearing for some reason (Joo Haeng said that he tried to make it a new trend or smth).

We don’t know why he took it off. If he had trouble breathing, if he wanted to prove to Yeon Woo that he was also stunningly handsome or if he just felt like it.

And that’s when Yeon Woo experiences his first color rush. Overwhelmed by the it he faints. And for some reason, Yoo Han seems not scared at all but excited to be part of this adventure. And after taking Yeon Woo to the school nurse, he says something along the lines of: Oh his eyes are closed but his eyes are moving, that means that he is experiencing a color rush.

And the nurse, that probably doesn’t get paid enough, repsonds with: Yeah, maybe. I dunno, it’s my first time seeing this. Let me know if he rips out his eyeballs or dies or smth. I gotta go get some stuff. Bye.

Yeon Woo opens his eyes and is amazed by the colors that he is able to see. But loses the ability pretty quickly. And Yoo Han declares - in case Yeon Woo might have missed it - that he is in fact Yeon Woo’s probe.

Of course, Yeon Woo is really sad that he is back to the grey-ish palette of life again, but he stays strong and says that he does not want to do this again. He reminds Yoo Han that being a mono/probe is all fun and games until the mono get’s obsessed. Like, monos have kidnapped and killed their probes and apparently ate their flesh?

But Yoo Han couldn’t be more unbothered by that. And I don’t know if I should be impressed or worried because of that. After Yeon Woo explains his concerns to Yoo Han, the guy’s like: Ah.

Yoo Han is not only immune to fear and common sense, he is also very headstrong and is determent to teach Yeon Woo the colors. The question we all have in mind probably is:

Why is Yoo Han so eager to continue this dangerous relationship?

Well we get a great answer to that from Yoo Han himself: He likes Yeon Woo’s eye moevement while he experiences a color rush, so...yeah.

Great reason, let’s move on.

The next day of school, Yoo Han got a color palette to show Yeon Woo and to teach him the different colors. But since Yeon Woo doesn’t want to do a color rush again he pretents that he isn’t interested. Yeon Woo has enough of Yoo Han constantly being all up his ass with all this color rush thing, so he tries to leave. But Yoo Han tricks him. After Yoo Han recognizes that Yeon Woo isn’t giving in, he takes off his mask. Yeon Woo faints and wakes up in the nursing room.

This time, the nurse isn’t there. it’s probably her break or something. Before Yeon Woo can get really upset about Yoo Han’s trick, he sees the colors palette and all the colors on it. And the desire in him grows. But decolorating happens only a few seconds later.

And there’s where we see the first glance of desperation of Yeon Woo. He demands that Yoo Han takes off his mask, so he can see the colors again, but Yoo Han is a smart business man and so he wants something in return. He’s like: That was the preview, the free trial is over. From no on, you gotta pay.

And since Yeon Woo isn’t giving in, their ways part. And the story ends...if Yoo Han would actually respect boundaries. But he doesn’t so here we go.

Yoo Han tries again to lure Yeon Woo into agreeing to his deal. He shows him with the power of science and prism a rainbow and the nightview.

No matter how hard Yeon Woo tries to stay away from Yoo Han, Yoo Han pulls him back in.

Yoo Han says that this the last time, that he will give Yeon Woo a color rush for free. And Yeon Woo agrees, thinking that this will be his last time before telling Yoo Han that he will end this for good.

As the colors seem to fade away again, the desperation creeps up on Yeon Woo once again. He asks Yoo Han what he wants in return to keep doing this. And as we all know he wants to look at his face.

And to our big surprise, Yeon Woo finally agrees to Yoo Han’s deal. The next day, Yeon Woo regrets what he did, just like someone who drunk too much last night. He considers to avoid Yoo Han, but we all know how that works out.

So, Yoo Han has the great idea to scare Yeon Woo, by jumping in front of him and scream, which results in Yoo Han getting accidentally punched by Yeon Woo. They go the the nursing room and at that point I ask myself how they are doing in school, since they never seem to attend classes.

The nurse is probably still on her break or she just quit, who knows. We get the classic “I’ll treat your wound” scene. The inevitable happens, and after putting a little too much pressure on Yoo Han’s wound, Yoo Han flinches and the mask slides off his face. Another color rush.

Yeon Woo wakes up but can’t remember anything. Yoo Han explains that Yeon Woo cried his eyes out, but didn’t seem concious.

Yeon Woo apparently said that he needed the colors to see the headband (of his mother who disappeared and apparently wore the headband that day).The nurse comes in and seems not too happy about the fact that these two visit her at least once a week.

She says that this was totally normal and one of the phases a mono went through, while adjusting to one’s probe. The color rush would extend and he would not be able to remember afterwards. In that way his subconcious could surface.

And while Yeon Woo’s feelings are still all over the place, Yoo Han has set his priorities straight: So that he get’s used to the color rushes is a good sign, right?

Like, your man is sitting there crying his eyes out and you think about him adjusting to you? Dude, at least pretend that you care about his inner turmoil.

The nurse keeps up a professional facade and adds as polite as she can be: Don’t do it at school for the time being. Which basically translates to: Can you two give me a break for once? I haven’t worked this hard since 1986 and I’m 29.

On their way out, Yoo Han says: I’m happy that you are adjusting to it. Like he just wasn’t right next to Yeon Woo weeping like someone would rip his heart out. That’s when Yoo Han remembers that he has a heart and should use it once in a while and he adds: You scared me a little back there.

Yeah, me too, buddy. Me too.

While Yoo Han tries to have this converstaion, Yeon Woo is caught up in his thoughts. And I mean he has all reason to be upset. He is scared of what will come next. What if he get’s used to his probe and the colors? What comes after that? Obsession...kidnapping?

Because Yeon Woo hasn’t said anything, Yoo Han is scared that he might has forgotten how pretty he is, so Yoo Han has to remind him again. We love a supportive probe. But for real Yoo Han, we got it the first three times, I think he knows by now.

Yoo Han doesn’t think about any of this “obsession”-stuff at all, so he doesn’t get why Yeon Woo isn’t so thrilled about the whole thing. Outside, Yoo Han cuddles Yeon Woo from behind and says that he was actually worried earlier and they have to wait here because it’s raining.

We never get an explanation why that’s a problem. Maybe he forgot his umbrella and doesn’t want to get wet or wait there all on his own? Or Yoo Han hopes that he can show him a real rainbow this time? But wouldn’t it be a little careless to do another color rush shortly after what had happened?

Yeon Woo is again caught up in his thoughts. And we can feel how much he suffers already: [...] But when I felt a moment of happiness, I saw the happiness draining out from my view. Loss. Only having moments of happiness...that leave me all alone in a land of grey...terrifies me.

Long story short, Yeon Woo tries to run away, and after Yoo Han stops him and asks why he did that, he says: Because it just crossed my mind that I want to keep you forever.

HUGE RED FLAG my guy! Yoo Han RUN!

This might have been cute in other shows and all...because we tend to romantacize this “I can’t live without you” and “I never wat to lose you”...but we all know that it isn’t meant in a cute way. He wants to keep him. You know, like you would keep an object. A refrigerator or something like that. Not a human being.

The following day, Yoo Han is not in school and you got me there. I was really thinking that maybe my boy here would finally take a hint and leave. Yeon Woo thinks that it’s because of what he said to him yesterday, which would make sense. But we all know Yoo Han, with his death wish that he probably has and the distance that he keeps from comon sense.

So, of course he isn’t avoiding school, becaue his mono - that told him mulitple times that monos get obsessive and kidnap their probes - just now told him that he wanted to keep him. And it seems that Yoo Han is really wearing rose-colored glasses, because he isn’t able to see the red flags. Or maybe he has his own reasons why he wants to be near him...(yes I’m blatantly forshadowing here).

He later texts Yeon Woo and they make a trip to “have fun with colors”. This is the first time Yeon Woo doesn’t faint, while experiencing a color rush and they goof around and hold hands and are cute together. And Yeon Woo is thinking that he would want to keep these colors and the happy feeling forever, even if that would mean that he would have to hurt Yoo Han...true love right there, people.

Alas, this trip ends and Yeon Woo returns to his tense state, worrying that he might get more and more attached to his probe. He thanks Yoo Han for this trip and wants to go, but Yoo Han isn’t ready to let him go just yet.

So, they both return to Yeon Woo’s house, thinking that the aunt is still on her “business trip”. Shortly before Yeon Woo’s father died, he painted a picture of his mother, but he never got a “real” look at it with all its colors. Yoo Han agrees to help him see the picture with “all its colors”. After a brief breakdown and Yoo Han reassuring him that he is by his side and he will be the key to his colors, the door opens. Turns out the aunt is back! You didn’t see that coming, did you?

Yeon Woo and Yoo Han try their best to keep their mono/probe status a secret. And they are as good in hiding a secret as kids are, when they give you a totally normal drink that they definitely didn’t fill with salt or dirt or something and can’t stop giggling and begging you to take a big sip.

Yeon Woo tries to act normal, even though he sees his aunt in “full color” for the first time. And Yoo Han is over there smililing like: yep, I know exactly what’s going on right now, you can thank me later.

Yeon Woo walks Yoo Han to the bus station. On their way Yeon Woo is happy to let Yoo Han know that he can still see the colors. And Yoo Han gets all excited like: OMG! That means that your feelings for me let you slowly accept it. And Yeon Woo is like: Yeah, no definitely not. Feelings for you??

They arrive at the bus station and Yoo Han has to flex with his kind of impressive knowledge about colors.  After Yoo Han entered the bus, Yeon Woo’s decolerating.

Yeon Woo is again, desperately trying to cling onto the colors and has a minor breakdown. Thinking that without Yoo Han life is empty and lifeless and he’s just feels like an empty shell. And I’m here like...dude the ship is about to sail, get on board and leave as long as you can! You are already obsessed with him, please!

As he returns back to his aunt, she let’s him know that she ain’t stupid and knows that Yoo Han is his probe. Isn’t that obvious? The whole school probably knows already. I mean, look at them.

The aunt got all the brain cells and she’s like: You have to transfer schools and we have to move. Finally an adult being an adult and doing wise and good things. But oh no, it’s too late and Yeon Woo is determent to stay: “I will try my best to handle it. I’m different I’m not like other monos.” I can resist and rise above the urge.”

Huh..my dear, are we just pretending like you weren’t breaking down, because your life felt lifeless without him and you already think about keeping him? And now you are sitting there pretending you are all high and mighty and “different?” while you are obsession over the guy you met like a week ago? Lying to her saying that you can handle it and will rise above the urge, while you had a breakdown just FIVE MINUTES AGO? Mmk...

And the aunt is continuing asking the real questions: Are you not aware of the loss you’ll experience? How can you possibly handle that? And I’m like: YES! Please, help them! Go get him! But alas, my hopes crashed, because Yeon Woo starts to cry and no one can be mad at Yeon Woo when he cries. And so his aunt’s like: K, we stay.

And so these wise words were sadly too late. Yeon Woo is already in too deep. The next time he is in school, Yoo Han is not there. And he switched to full obsession mode. With a concerningly calmy voice he asks his friends: What if I kidnap Yoo Han? Like it was something totally normal to ask.

Joo Haeng tries to make this situation less weird and says: Hah..ha.. I mean, if you would kidnap him he probably would lock the door himself.

His other friend, Min Jae totally looks through this “jokes” and says: Do you really want to become a monster? That’s when Joo Haeng seems to understand that this wasn’t a joke at all. And his expression changes and you could slowly see the realisation:.haha..that’s a weird joke to make..okay..no one’s laughing..wait..you were joking right?

Yeon Woo falls more and more into the dark rabbit whole and buys a bunch off stuff that you would totally need to kidnap someone, but the seller is like: Teenagers these days. Guess, I’m minding my own business. Which I always aprove, but not in this case! Dude you live in a world with monos who go insane and kidnap their probes and you don’t wanna maybe...inform some authorities? Check his ID or call the police? Anything? No?

Espacially with so many cases popping up shouldn’t monos get asigned some therapist or counselor or someone who keeps an eye on them?

While Yeon Woo is researching how to tie a rope, his aunt comes in and asks him, if he is okay. Sweety, I love you, but he is CLEARLY NOT OKAY! She says that she can feel that something’s off. He reminds her off his mother, shortly before she brought home his father. Yeon Woo reassures her that he’s fine and not up to anything. And she just...  leaves.

Yoo Han returns to school because he missed Yeon Woo - probably the way Yeon Woo stares at him. Yoo Han notices the mark on Yeon Woo’s wrist (he tried to tie the rope around his wrist to learn it) and get’s worried. But not about himself, of course. Because why would you?

And Yeon Woo’s like: I wonder how this mark seems to him. Well I’m telling you, if he isn’t running away now, don’t worry too much about Yoo Han, because I think that he really has a death wish. He would probably tie his own rope, if you ask him nicely.

Yeon Woo reminds us that he was right all along. A mono and a probe shouldn’t meet. A mono will only hurt his probe, because he doesn’t want to lose, what the probe can show him.

So, yeah. What’s the lesson here, kids? When someone tells you that they are “not good for you” or “dangerous”, believe them. Because they are.

Despite Yeon Woo’s assumptions, Yoo Han can’t read minds and that’s why he has no clue what’s going on. Instead, he lists the different shades of brown. And oh boy did this show teach me about all the different shades of colors I didn’t know existed.

Yeon Woo is seemingly melting. The two look at a picture that Yeon Woo painted of his mother in grey colors. They talk a little about how Yeon Woo sees the world, when Yoo Han isn’t there.

Despite standing so close to his probe, Yeon Woo decolerates. This catches him totally off guard and he runs away. At home, he rambles on about how he becomes a monster and that this monster is coming for Yoo Han. And that there is only one way to keep Yoo Han safe. And he uses the rope and tries to hang himself.

He wakes up in a hospital. His aunt is with him and tells him that he was out for ten days. She adds, that she knew that something was up and what he was planing. Mmhm, yeah of course. That’s what I always say when I pretend that I saw a plot twist coming. I know your game Yi Rang.

The house is back on the market and no one knows where he is (well besides the two of them ig). We follow him for an unclear amount of time. He takes pills that are supposed to help him.

Even though Yeon Woo is sad that this means goodbye Yoo Han, he accepts it, thinking that this was the only way that things could get back to normal again. What a selfless man. Putting the well being of his love before his own happiness (well it’s also better for his sanity tbh).

And that’s how it all en- Oh, right. Yoo Han is not selfless and he doesn’t care about his own well being. That’s why one night, after Yeon Woo overanalyses his current situation, someone is standing outside of his window. And surprise: It’s Yoo Han.

He climbs through the window with such grace that I thought that this might be a dream. And Yeon Woo probably felt the same, because he says that this can’t be real and that this is probably only another hallucination. But Yoo Han takes off his mask to show him, that he’s real. He is here to rescue him..from the hospital, I guess. After Yeon Woo changed, they both run to a bus station and drive off into happiness aka to the ocean.

They are planning to go to the beach, because Yoo Han wants to show Yeon Woo the real color of the ocean, but they have to stay at a hotel overnight. While Yoo Han has to sleep on the floor, he opens a little bit up about why he is here and what happened.

And what basically happened is: Yeon Woo disappeared and because he didn’t want to lose him, this was the only solution he had in mind.

The next day they both chill at the beach and it’s time for Yoo Han to show off his color-knowledge again. So he lists all the different shades of blue - well the shades he can recall. And Yoo Han says that he memorizes them and the thought of Yeon Woo would make it easier for him to do it. What a man, honestly. Like, I struggle lately with studying and concentrating and seeing him putting up with all that work for, so he can pretend that he is the master of the color-universe for two minutes or less. That’s determination.

Yeon Woo calls his aunt to make sure that she doesn’t die of a heart attack, after her nephew also disappeared and the aunt says that Yoo Han has a really powerful family and that they will press charges against Yeon Woo for kidnapping Yoo Han, if they don’t come back. Yeon Woo is upset that Yoo Han’s parents are pressing charges against something he didn’t do (well I mean he probably did it multiple times in his head).

Yoo Han FINALLY tells him the whole truth. That he is no longer interested in becoming an idol and prefers to study and (more importantly) he tells him the REAL reason why he was so eager to have Yeon Woo around him.

And get ready you guys because this will blow your minds: He isn’t able to recognize faces. Faceblindness. BUT he is ablte to see Yeon Woo’s face. Which was the reason that he was so drawn to him. Everytime they would seperate, he wouldn’t be able to remember it. Only, when he saw him in front of him (espacially when he experienced a color rush) he was able to see it.

Just imagine how lucky they are? I mean, just imagine you can’t see faces and one day you can. But only one face and this one face belongs to Yeon Woo who is just gorgeous and has a beautiful and kind soul. It could’ve been any face that he was able to see. Same goes for Yeon Woo. His probe could’ve been anyone. To be this lucky just once in life..

Yeon Woo still worries that he might get even more obsessed over time and that he might harm Yoo Han one day. But Yoo Han is like: Dude, don’t you realize how super special we are? I can only see your face and you can only see colors with my face. I don’t care. I can see your face. You can see colors. We like each other.

And so they kiss and become boyfriends and return home.

A little time jump. Yeon Woo is preparing some food for Yoo Han and talks to his aunt who is not a fan of all of this but she supports him anyways. In school Yoo Han is talking to Min Jae who is giving him the code to the rooftop door of the school, so Yeon Woo and Yoo Han can have a little date. And everything is back to normal. The mother is still missing, Joo Haeng is still treated like the  least favorite child by Yoo Han. And Yeon Woo and Yoo Han still don’t attend classes.

Min Jae and Joo Haeng

Apparently Joo Haeng and Yoo Han are childhood best friends, even though Yoo Han seems to have a different definition of friends than I do. Yeon Woo meets the guys on his first day at school.

They are helping him, when he experiences a color rush. Min Jae is able to speak to his dead grandpa and gets visions form time to time. And the fact that Min Jae was able to predict the death of two students is just quickly talked about.

While Yeon Woo and Yoo Han have their moments we sometimes see Joo Haeng and Min Jae had their little “look at them being all cute and in love together” moments.

The aunt

Most of the time the aunt is away for “business trips” and Yeon Woo explains to us that she is actually looking for her sister. We never find out if she actually finds clues or why she is looking for her on an island.

Yeon Woo has many chances to tell his aunt that he has met his mono, but every time he chooses not to. Eventually she finds it out herself, after looking at Yeon Woo and Yoo Han for five minutes. And I mean, that was relatable.

When she walked in on Yeon Woo doing suspicous stuff, the only thing she says it: Don’t do anything stupid. Because that ever prevented something stupid from happening. Ma´am, if you think that he might be up to something stupid and you feel the need to point out that he shouldn’t do anything stupid why don’t you keep an eye on him???

In the end she is still a little careful about her nephew and the probe, but she accepts them being boyfriends, I guess.

Things I disliked

This show was wild ride. I even considered droping it, because I was not in the right mental state to watch a bad ending. But I made it through and I’m happy that I did. I love this show. But you know me. Nothing’s perfect.

Better built up to the drama. Even though the built up was pretty good, it would’ve been way better, if it did include the side characters more. So that the side characters could actually play an important/active role in this. Like the random nurse who was only there for exposition and only appeared when it was convenient, she could’ve seen Yeon Woo being all obsessed and talk to him or Yoo Han about it. And I mean, Min Jae was able to see visions and knew so much. He could’ve talked to Yoo Han about Yeon Woo “joking” that he would kidnap Yoo Han.

Too much plot for too little time. Most BL Kdramas have about the same length as a movie (circa 80 min.) which seems much, but really isn’t, compared to straigth Kdrama and the fact that it’s a series not a movie. It is espacially not enough, when you look at the heaviness of the plot. If you have a lighthearted and fluffy show, you don’t need to go too much into depth and make a 200 min. drama out of it. But Color Rush deals with so many heavy topics (obsession, suicide, loss). And the series is suffering because of that (so many questions left unanswered).

Like, the obvious one is that the mystery about the mother’s disappearence is never actually a plotline. The aunt runs off looking for her and Yeon Woo is sad because she’s gone but that’s it. I watched this show so many times and the more I watch it, the more questions I have... Did the mother also plan to kidnap the father? But they fell in love and got married before she could go psycho on him? Did she kill him? Is that why the mother disappeared? Did she run away because she just couldn’t live without him after he allegedly died?

And also an important questions: Why the hell, was Yoo Han so styled up in the last two episodes? He arrived with his hair styled and all dressed up like he just finished a photoshooting. Was that what was happening? Was that related to him being an idol trainee? Or was that the teenager in him trying to dress up for Yeon Woo like “well I don’t know if he is actually there but we haven’t seen in two weeks, so I gotta look breathtaking, you never know when you are going to meet the love of your life”. This is one of the questions that keep me up at night. I. Need. Answers.

I am dying to know the answer to these questions, but we have simply not enough information to guess what could’ve happened.

So yeah, they definitely have a time problem, which isn’t that uncommon for Korean BLs. Don’t get me wrong. A short serie can still be good, if it can carry the plot. It shouldn’t be too big or too heavy. But I will always prefer series that have 30+ min. per episode simply because as soon as I am invested in the episode it’s already over. Ten or fifteen minutes aren’t enough most of the time.

The ending seemed rushed, too. So many things were left unresolved. Like, Yeon Woo is still dangerous and even says that he only get’s more obsessed every day. And suddenly the parents and the aunt are totally okay that Yeon Woo and Yoo Han are together and hang out, even though they were so against it a few minutes ago. Something that could’ve been solved over time with more episodes and time.

More scenes that establish the characters and the friendship. In a short series it’s important that every scene drives the plot forward or at least establishes something important. That’s why Where Your Eyes Linger worked so well, the mains already knew each other, so you could immediately start with the plot and you didn’t need to waste time for them to meet and fall in love.

There is no room for filler or anything like that. I wish we would’ve seen more scenes with the whole friend group (all of them present) and more between Yoo Han and Yeon Woo without the color rush. Let them hang out afterwards to let them bond more. Because Yeon Woo says this very poetic thing at the end of the series: Am I obsessed with you becaue you are my probe, or am I obsessed with my probe because it’s you.

And as poetic as this sounds, it throws me off a little, since Yeon Woo and Yoo Han haven’t spent much time together to really get to know each other the answer that Yeon Woo is only obsessed with Yoo Han because of the mono/probe thing seems more believeable. The “am I obsessed with my probe because it’s you” implies that Yoo Han is special and means much to him as a person and that’s why Yeon Woo just HAs to fall for him. But they rarely spent time together that doesn’t focus on the color rush and the mono/probe part.

But then again, maybe it’s a choice to show that Yeon Woo isn’t aware that he and Yoo Han could be more than mono/probe? And that makes Yeon Woo think that he has no chance but to kidnap Yoo Han to be near him. Like, looking back, Yeon Woo never thought about it. His mother and his father (mono and probe) married, but him being in a relationship with Yoo Han still didn’t cross his mind once. He was like: We can’t see each other every day and went straight to well i don’t want to ever lose you so I gotta kidnap you.

Show more struggle. This show deals so much with internal struggle of Yeon Woo who realizes that he slowly get’s obsessed with his probe. And even though I really liked how they showed his struggle internally and externally to some extend, I wish they would’ve done more with that. I want him to have the rope ready in his backpack but not giving in to the to the urge. I want him daydreaming about kidnapping Yoo Han and really having a plan in mind.

No warning. Another thing that sort of bugged me a little was that Yeon Woo didn’t warn Yoo Han after the beginning. Just one scene were he’s like: “Dude, don’t you get it. I can’t be without you. I think about you constantly and the fear of losing the colors- of losing you is driving me insane. You need to keep your distance from now on. I can’t gurantee you that you will be safe with me and I can’t promise that I can actually resist the urge anymore.”

And then you could either seperate them or Yoo Han says smth like: “I know that feeling, I also think about you constantly and I miss you” and this just turns into a big miscomunnication/love confession-thing. Because Yoo Han really understands the feeling, since he is kind of obsessed with Yeon Woo too (because of his faceblindsness and the fact that he can only see Yeon Woo’s face) and Yeon Woo thinks that Yoo Han is not getting it and it’s a love declaration but it’s not - well it is but you get the drill.

Or, as I addressed earlier, Min Jae playing a bigger role and telling his friend that Yeon Woo is slowly going insane and thinks about kidknapping him.

And if all that doesn’t work out for some reason or it’s just...too much effort  make a parallel to the one scene between the talk of Yeon Woo and his aunt at the beginning: The aunt finds the stuff that Yeon Woo baught (or she just connects the dots sooner) and she wants to talk to him. “How can you handle it?” and this time Yeon Woo says “I don’t know what to do. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t.” and they work together to make a plan. And you can still have him go to the hospital and Yoo Han coming to the rescue.

All the time, I keep asking myself, why apparently no one felt the need to inform his aunt or maybe the probe about the situation? “Hey Yoo Han, Yeon Woo was really weird today. Talked about kidnapping you, please be careful.”

Like, I watch so many BL’s and at some point the parents or the ex-girlfriend or SOMEONE is always getting involved and tries to tear the couple apart. And for once, I would be okay with this plot device of the friends being cockblocks or the aunt threatening Yoo Han to stay away from Yeon Woo ESPACIALLY IF IT’S FOR HIS OWN GOOD DAMN SAFETY! But no.

That’s all the friends needed to do. You had one job, guys, one job.

Things I liked

The music. A banger. Listen to it on Spotify almost every day. Korean BLs just have on of the best music.

The chemistry. In a short series (espacially with short episodes) a good chemistry is fundamental so we can bond faster with the characters and the relationships. And in this show where the two leads are getting obsessed over each other, so here it’s espacially important so we can feel their deep desire for each other, if you want to call it that.

Yoo Han seemed a little emotionless and stiff at times, but IIRC he’s supposed to have a hard time with all these emotions, espacially with facial expressions, which makes sense.

The rainbow scene. One of my favorite scenes by far.

the handholding. We all know that it’s about the hands with the gays. It’s all about the hands.

the colors, the hole scene looked so beautiful shot with the dark background and the blue shirt of Yoo Han and the freaking rainbow.

Yeon Woo having fun, which is a rarity in this show.

We get another glimps of how fast Yeon Woo can go from uwu to -.-. The way he smashes Yoo Han against the wall...

The display of the power dynamic and how both of them try to get the upper hand. And looking back this scene shows that Yoo Han tries to contorl his own obsession by luring Yeon Woo into accepting the deal.

The iconic lines: The colors in this world are yours to enjoy...only when I let you see them. Which was an asshole move - but dare I say it - ...kinda savage.

The storyline. Loved it. Great idea. I want more of it. I’m a sucker for soulmates. I know some think that this series was problematic and had bad writing and I respect that, but I have to disagree. Sure, it’s not perfect and definitely not a masterpiece. But it’s good, imo. The forshadowing of Yoo Han and how he from day one was so facinated by Yeon Woo and his face, that nothing could bring him to his senses to freaking run. It was cute, fun and exciting to watch. I wouldn’t mind a second season to wind up some loose ends.

The beautiful editing. I loved the editing in this one! No unecessary slapstick sounds. No unecessary music that would play randomly. Just the color rush that showed you not only what Yeon Woo was seeing, but helped you to get a deeper understanding in what was going on. It was also used to help you relate to his situation more.

The power dynamic. In this show there is a constant power change. In the begining you think that a probe should be the one with power, right? Since they have the power to let their mono see colors and take them away from them. The monos want something from them and that gives them power. Probe > Mono

But you learn that monos get obsessed and can be extremely dangerous and therefore many probes should run from their mono. Giving the power to the monos. Mono > Probe

In this series, it at first seems like Yoo Han (the probe) holds the power since he is constantly trying to be around Yeon Woo and demostrates his power (the rainbow scene). Probe > Mono

But the more episodes you watch, you realize that Yeon Woo gets more and more obsessed, means that he is dangerous. He could hurt Yoo Han any time. So it seems that Yeon Woo was in power all along. Mono > Probe

BUT in the last episode Yoo Han explains that he can only see Yeon Woo’s face and as soon as they seperate he forgets his face. This would further proof that Yeon Woo has the upper hand here. BUT the thing is, they are sort of equals here. Yeon Woo has the “power” to let Yoo Han see his face and taking it away his face from Yoo Han. This means that in some way both hold kind of some power in their relationship making it somewhat equal, which is important. Yeon Woo = Yoo Han

And I think that’s beautiful. A relationship needs to consist of two equals. It can’t be healthy if one is always the one in charge and the other has no say in things.

The Color-Talks. I read a few post complaining that the series was wasting time by talking too much about colors. And I can kinda agree that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but in this show they did it for a reason. They could’ve cut it out, but it was important. The series is called Color Rush (look at the name, read it again, think about it, reread it, take it in and exhale it and now look in the mirror and answer the question: What is this show about?). Take I Told Sunset About You they also talk a lot about the chinese letters and what they mean and how you write them, would you consider that a waste of time? Maybe, but it’s not.

I’m actually glad that they didn’t cut it out. Just imagine one scene like this: “Oh there are many different shades of brown. There is chocolate, caramel, cinnamon [cut] and the last one is chestnut.” It would not only take away the flow but also feel somewhat half-assed and undermine the importance of this for Yeon Woo, who learns about the colors for the fist time. It means the world to him.

Also that they thought about the ten different shades of grey fits perfectly and seems well thought through. It makes perfect sense that people who are only able to see grey, would try to name the different shades.

It’s about the hands.

And this aren’t all of them. Do I have to say more?

That’s all I have to say about this series. Check out my other reviews.

My BL Review List: https://urmyquerencia.tumblr.com/post/627642344497364992/bl-reviews

- urmyquerencia

[duchessfics]

Underestimation

(https://duchessfics.tumblr.com/post/612885556559593472)

Billie, Reader x Wilhemina

Requested by @urleastfavtree​: Can I request either Billie or Mina where they’re out at a bar and some guys are challenging themselves to get the waitresses (reader’s) number and then Billie/Mina asks for it right in front of the guys and they get the number and a kiss too???

Warning(s): Guys being dudes, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of police, Brief bar fight (but nothing too serious)

Summary: While bartending, the reader has to deal with some sleazy business men, and in the process she meets one of her biggest idols. However, things get complicated when her girlfriend shows up to pick her up from work.

Word Count: 3875

A/n: I hope this turned out alright @urleastfavtree​. I know I kind of veered off from what you requested, but this idea crossed my mind and I couldn’t shake it off. 😊

While Billie didn’t imagine herself ending up at some bar in downtown LA, today’s location for her newest TV special was more intense than she anticipated. Of course years of experience have helped her to conjure up a white light of protection when necessary. But the aura of illumination can only do so much. It doesn’t prevent the ever-present anxiety of the unknown or sleepless nights due to nightmares from past interactions with the paranormal.

So that is why the medium is perched on a barstool, nursing a third glass of red wine and contemplating if some whiskey will be her next choice of beverage.

The low-lit room is practically empty, allowing the classic rock music to softly fill the room with the occasional snickers emitted from the small group of businessmen nearby and the light clink of the freshly washed glasses you replace on the racks behind the bar.

While you hear the men muttering amongst themselves with sporadic bursts of laughter, you remain focused on your task. Even though you’re a bartender, there is something about men that is unnerving to you. Of course you try to keep pleasant, but avoid any other non-essential interactions. Just thirty more minutes until you close. Then you’re free to go home.

“Hey, sweetheart, we’ll take another round of beers.” 

Sweetheart. 

You take a second to compose yourself, transforming your clenched jaw into a pleasant smile and turning to face the three men.

“Same beer?” You chirp, trying to ignore their roaming eyes.

The man who seems to be the ringleader sports a wolfish grin as he responds, “Whatever you think, darlin’.” For a second your lip tremors and nearly curls up in disgust. But you catch yourself and squat behind the counter to open the fridge and grab 3 beers. As you hold them by their necks, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves and temper. 

They’re just lonely. Think of the tips. They have designer suits on and if you play nice they may be generous.

When you stand back up, your pleasant façade is back in place and you remove the bottlecaps, setting the drinks before each man. In an effort to avoid speaking, you keep your eyes downcast as you take their empty bottles. However you make the mistake of meeting the gaze of the man with icy blue eyes. He takes a swig of his beer before saying with a smirk, “Thanks, doll.” You nod in acknowledgement sporting a reserved smile and put the bottles in the box containing the other empty bottles. Then you pick up the container and try not to run into the kitchen on your way to dump the discarded bottles into the recycling out back.

The blonde near the opposite end of the bar doesn’t miss the exchange, rolling her eyes at the men’s words. And when you disappear behind the door, the one who thanked you turns to the others and claims, “I bet I could get her number.” Then one who originally asked for beers scoffs and sneers, “She didn’t even look at you. Besides if anyone would get her number it’s me.”

Then the third one with slicked back jet black hair comments, “You both talk too much. I guarantee that if I asked for her number right now she would melt.” Their assertions make Billie softly chuckle, but she swallows her sounds down with a sip of wine before the men can notice. While she thinks this behavior is childish, it’s pretty typical. However, the medium nearly smashes the glass she holds when Mr. blue eyes makes a proposition:

“I’ll bet 50 bucks I can get her number first.”

“Only 50? I’m in.”

“Me too.”

Then the one who proposed the bet says, “And even if one of you somehow gets her before me, which I highly doubt will happen. But if it does...well…I don’t mind sloppy seconds.”

His comment makes all three of them snicker and they murmur words of agreement. Then, as if on cue, you re-enter the bar area with a small bucket of steaming water and washcloth.

You hear the men hiss indistinct words amongst themselves, but actively ignore them, setting the bucket towards the middle of the bar and wringing the excess water out of the rag before starting to wipe down the countertops. Unfortunately, the talkative leader clears his throat and asks, “So you’ve worked here awhile?”

You continue to wipe the counter clean, keeping your back to them as you answer, “Not really. Just about 6 months.”

Billie has to stifle another chuckle when the man who spoke grumbles at being practically ignored. So much for being suave.

Sadly, the cloth can only go so far, and you have to return to the bucket, making eye contact with the ringleader as he asks, “Well how did a pretty girl like yourself end up here?”

Jesus Christ. The arrogance of this man!

After swirling the wash cloth around in the soapy water, you wring out the excess water while replying in an attempt at a casual tone, “I gotta pay my bills somehow. This was just the first job that hired me when I moved here.” His eyebrows raise and he states, “Well I have plenty of friends in high places, darlin’. If you gave me your phone number I could get you a real nice job.” You can’t help but laugh at his supposedly generous offer and assure him, “I’m good for the moment. But thanks.” Then you step away to continue wiping down the counter, missing his enraged expression.

Billie smirks in amusement as she watches the other two silently tease him. Then the one with blue eyes looks in your direction to make his move. He smoothly says, “I’m sure it gets lonely sometimes. It’s nice to have some friends around, doll. I’ll make a deal with you: if you give me your number, I’ll give you mine.”

This time you don’t stop your motions, rolling your eyes as you answer in a firmer tone, “I’d rather not.”

The medium notices your clenched jaw and decides to grant you some reprieve. So she finishes off the rest of her wine in one generous-sized drink before asking in a calm tone, “Could I have another drink please? Whenever you have the chance, of course.” You look up to the blonde and silently thank her, rushing over to her side while answering, “Yes.” The other bartender must have served her earlier, because you would recognize that face and voice anywhere.

Billie Dean Howard.

But you don’t want to make her uncomfortable by acting star-struck. You’ve seen other celebrities here and nothing annoys them more than a pestering fan. When you meet her dark brown eyes, it’s fortunate that the lighting is dim so she can’t see your flustered expression. You take the empty wine glass before asking, “Same drink?”

The medium lets out a low hum while her eyes scan over the numerous bottles along the back wall of the bar. Then she looks to you and replies, “Actually I’ll take some whiskey.” So you pull down the bottle and take your time pouring the amber liquid into a fresh glass tumbler.

While you do, Billie softly asks, “Do you get guys like them often?” The question makes you let out a sigh of relief and you set the bottle back on the liquor shelf before looking to her and softly replying, “Depends on the night. But I’m glad someone else notices.” She smiles and holds out her hand while stating, “I’m—”

But you finish her sentence, “Billie Dean Howard. Medium of the stars.” You take her hand and shake it as you quickly stutter, “I-I didn’t mean to cut you off. It’s just…I’m a big fan.” But she just chuckles and releases your hand picking up the glass while murmuring with a raised eyebrow, “I take it you’ve seen some of my work?” You look down to the glossy tabletop as you admit, “I’ve watched you since your first lifetime special. I—I love your work Miss Howard.”

But you look to her and quickly apologize before assuring her, “I don’t mean to sound obsessive or anything—”

She chuckles and soothes, “You’re fine, sweetheart.” However she immediately stiffens and says, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say sweetheart. I’ve probably drank too much—”

But you cut her off and say with a smile, “No—No it’s ok. When you say it, it feels different.” She relaxes a little and takes a long swig of her drink, letting out a soft hiss at the warmth in her throat and cheeks. Then she goes to say something, but one of the men distinctly clears his throat making you look over.

It’s the one who hasn’t spoken to you holds up his bottle before saying, “I need another beer, sugar.” 

Another beer your ass. He was just jealous of the attention you were giving to Billie.

The woman across from you doesn’t miss the low growl in your throat. But you dutifully walk over and reply, “After this round I’ll have to cut you off since we’re closing.”

All three of the men’s eyes darken and the one who asked for another beer teases, “Awe come on, darlin’. We won’t stay long.” But you look to them and softly reply, “I’m afraid it isn’t up to me. But there’s a bar down the street that stays open later.” 

In response he purrs, “But if we go there we won’t be able to see your pretty face. I promise we’ll make it worth your time, sugar.” Your stomach churns and you feel nauseous with the way he looks at you like a piece of meat. And to your embarrassment, you find yourself weakly stuttering out, “I-I’m sorry. But my manager would be really upset.” Before anymore can be said you take their empty bottles and replace them with new ones, keeping your eyes downcast.

Fortunately the men don’t say anything to stop you besides muttering amongst themselves. When you go back to wiping the counter closer to Billie. Her chocolate brown eyes twinkle as she mischievously asks, “Are you gonna have to cut me off too?” Her false innocence causes you to smile before replying, “I’m afraid so, Miss Howard.”

She takes another sip, warming her body even more as she purrs, “Please, call me Billie.” You look up and notice her flushed cheeks and unfocused gaze. She is at least tipsy but looks to be closer to drunk. However, she does remain poised for the state she’s in and still looks devastatingly beautiful.

You both quietly observe each other for a moment before you look down to the counters you clean. Billie finishes off her drink, starting to feel the effects of drinking that whiskey so fast. Then she quietly says, “They were right about having friends in high places.”

You place the rag back in the water to rinse it and wring out the excess as you admit, “Probably.” Then you say in a softer tone, “But I don’t think I want their friends.” The blonde nods in understanding and looks down to her one finger that casually traces the rim of the now empty glass as she asks, 

“What if I could help you out? Only if you’re interested of course.” 

You pause your movements, mouth gaped in shock. But you manage to snap your mouth shut and ask, “Y-You would do that for me? But I’m no one special. I mean…I’m just a mediocre bartender.”

Billie chuckles and ceases her movements before looking up to you and answering, “I would be happy to. And you are special.” Her compliment sends you over the moon and you can’t stop grinning like an idiot. 

Billie Dean Howard just called you special. Does it get any better than that?

“Thank you Miss—I mean, Billie.”

She chuckles and replies, “You’re welcome. Could I get your name and number to contact you?” The way she looks to you with her warm brown eyes doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. So you rip off a piece of paper off of the pad where you write down orders and jot down your cell phone number and name.

Maybe it’s because Billie’s drank too much or that she hasn’t slept with someone in a hot minute, but the way you bite your lip in concentration as you write makes her insides pool. Then when you look to her again and smile with the outside corners of your eyes crinkling a little at the movement, she feels a sense of desire filling her.

You slide her the slip of paper and say, “Thank you again, Billie. I definitely owe you one.” In the process, she gently takes your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours as she purrs, “You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I’m just happy to help.”

As she looks to you, the medium leans closer and says in a low purr, “Y/n is a beautiful name.” 

She doesn’t want to—she wouldn’t be kissing you, right? 

She keeps coming closer so you stutter out, “Billie, um, I-I didn’t mean to lead you on like that. You see I have—”

But you get cut off by your partner snarling, “Who the hell is this?” That’s when you see the woman in purple at the end of the bar. Her lip is curled, and she looks to Billie with nearly black eyes and if you don’t intervene now, the medium may be joining those she interviews permanently.

So you run over to your girlfriend and soothe, “It was just a misunderstanding, Mina. She’s had a lot to drink.” Then you cup her face and encourage her to look at you before you say, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. If you want, you can wait in the car. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She looks to you with those darkened eyes and you see a hint of hurt and betrayal behind the rage.

So you kiss her lips and whisper, “We can talk about it after I close. No secrets. She’s just drunk and got the wrong idea, Mina. I promise.”

Then Billie walks up, but doesn’t come too close before saying, “I’m sorry. She’s right. She never acted towards me; I’ve had too much to drink. But this is my fault. She was just saying that she had a girlfriend.”

By now your girlfriend has an arm draped around your waist and holds you possessively close. But you sense the heat of her initial rage stabilizing as she looks to you and asks in a low voice, “You were?” You wrap both of your arms around her and reply, “Yes. I know what it looked like, but I promise you, Mina you’re my girl. And I’m yours completely.” 

She pauses and you can sense the wheels turning in her head as she tries to decipher the truth. But she lets out a breath and says in a quiet voice, “I’ll just wait in the car.” You give her a small smile and press a kiss to her lips.

But the moment gets cut off by one of the men saying, “You would really choose her over one of us?”

That makes all three of you look over and you’ve had enough of their bullshit. Your eyes narrow and you shoot back, “Yes. I would.”

The man with blue eyes scoffs and comments, “But you don’t look like a lesbian. You dress so…normal.” That makes your blood boil and you don’t prevent your upper lip from curling as you sneer, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Now the lead man steps forward, and you back away from Mina to stand on your own so you face them directly. He looks to Billie and says, “Well the blonde,” then he pauses, looking her over before continuing, “she could go either way. And the ginger…” he trails off as he eyes her up and down. After a moment, his eyes return to yours and he asks,

“Are you sure you’re really into chicks, sweetheart? Maybe your past experience with men was lacking. But I can treat you like you deserve so you won’t have to settle for... less.”

That son of a bitch.

Rather than answering with words, you walk up and slam your fist into his jaw and keep punching as you yell, “Going out with you would be settling for less you piece of shit!” As you bust his nose and blood gushes out enough to get on your clothes and he yells, “Call the police!” Then you knee him where it counts, sending him down to the ground with a cry.

Once he’s down you run at the man with blue eyes and manage to punch him as you scream, “My girlfriend is better than any of you will ever be! You’re just some fucking perverts!” But before you can knock him or the other man down, two sets of arms wrap around yours, holding you back. You squirm in their grasp and only see red as you growl, “Let me go! They deserve this! The fucking bastards!”

But Billie uses her strength to hold you back on your left side while Wilhemina leans close on your right side. Then she says in an unusually soothing tone, “Hey, it’s ok, darling.” You thrash and roar, “But they insulted you! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

You see the red and blue lights flash outside of the bar and an officer enters the building. Immediately the men spring into action showing off the damage you enacted on them. That’s when you stop resisting and realize what the consequences of your actions could be. The officer doesn’t handcuff you, but you have to ride with him to the police station where both Wilhemina and Billie promise to meet you…

While Wilhemina Venable would never be caught in such a compromised position hugging you close to her while rubbing your back and murmuring soothing words in public. She not only permits this behavior but encourages you to keep close as you weep into her lilac dress.

Why did this have to be your fault? When you tried to explain to the officer how they were treating you, he said there was no evidence of harassment or threat. And with how injured the one man was, charges could be pressed. This is all your fault. You’ll be lucky to keep your job after this

Between your in-depth interview with the police, the men’s hurtful words, and the time now being around 2 in the morning the tears that pour from your eyes seem impossible to stop. Your face is buried in Mina’s chest and she keeps her arms wrapped around you protectively watching Billie calmly speak with the three men.

Even though the medium is still slightly inebriated, she keeps a charming smile on her lips and warm eyes as if discussing the weather. But Wilhemina also notices that her posture remains tall and her arms are crossed over her middle in an unapologetic stance. Then she gestures over to your trembling figure and the men look to you both. Automatically, the red head holds you slightly closer and looks at them with a cold stare. They speak a little longer and eventually the men walk away.

Billie takes a moment to let out the breath she had been holding and walks over to you, wobbling just a little in her heels. Once she’s close enough, the blonde says, “They aren’t going to press charges.” 

Mina relaxes a little and asks, “What made them decide not to?” By this point, you’ve peeked your head up to look at her and she smirks before replying in a sly voice, “I have my ways.” She gives you a warm smile, but your lip tremors and you rasp, “I’m so sorry for pulling you into this, Billie. I can’t believe I was so stupid—”

She kneels before you and takes one of your hands before soothing, “Don’t say that, sweet girl.” Billie looks to the woman who holds you, making sure she isn’t getting too close, but the woman in purple doesn’t seem bothered. Instead she continues her sentiments, saying, “They were provoking you in the hopes of getting a reaction. If anything, they were stupid for underestimating how you would react.”

Then the medium lets out a small chuckle and says, “You should have seen their faces when you threw the first punch.” Wilhemina smiles too, making you duck your head to hide your grin. Billie brushes her thumb over your knuckles for a moment before releasing your hand and standing up.

The movement causes you to look up and see the blonde watching you both. Then she says, “I want to apologize again about the misunderstanding earlier.” 

Your girlfriend shakes her head and hesitantly replies, “I overreacted before knowing the truth. But I should thank you for speaking with them about not pressing charges.” You look at her with wide eyes, shocked that she would actually admit error on her part to someone she just met.

And Mina surprises you even more when she asks, “Is there any way we could make it up to you?” 

Did Wilhemina Venable just ask that? 

In response, Billie gives a demure smile and casually replies, “Well…we could go out to dinner sometime. I wouldn’t mind the company of two beautiful women.” Then she has the audacity to give the red head a wink, and Mina actually blushes. The woman blushes. This whole ordeal may have a silver lining after all.

Your girlfriend’s reaction makes you giggle and Billie sports a wicked grin as she purrs, “I have y/n’s number so I can let you know when I’m available.” The woman in purple still seems stunned by the medium’s forwardness so you reply, “Oh we will. Thanks again, Billie.” Then she says goodbye and walks away.

Once she’s out of the police station, you chuckle and tease, “She really flustered you, didn’t she?” 

Wilhemina clears her throat and rolls her eyes before replying, “It merely surprised me. That’s all.” You both stand up and begin to walk out to your car. And as you do, you comment, “I guess Billie may not be so bad after all. Maybe we could even get to know her a little better.”

The red head lets out a humorless laugh and replies, “Don’t push your luck, dear.” You both get in the car and begin to drive home. As you do, your phone lights up with a text:

I’m available Friday night if you’re interested in dinner? -Billie

You read her text out loud while Mina drives and she keeps quiet. So you wait a moment before asking, “How should I respond?” The red head taps her fingers on the steering wheel and slowly replies, “Friday works.” 

Her calm demeanor surprises you and you ask, “You’re sure? We don’t have to go out with her if you’re not comfortable.”

Your girlfriend keeps her eyes on the road as she comments, “I’m sure. She seems…interesting. I wouldn’t mind talking to her more.” You smile to yourself and text back,

Friday works. I think you have a captive audience with Mina, which is very rare. 

After a couple minutes, Billie responds, 

I’ll make a reservation. And I’m glad she’s interested. I’m interested in getting to know both of you as well. I look forward to seeing you both again.

You smile at her response and put your phone away, looking forward to getting some sleep and your dinner with Billie Dean Howard.

Tagged:  @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk​, @chokemepaulson​, @versonstar​, @find-me-a-constellation​, @cordwliagoode​, @psychobitchtess​, @midnight-lestrange​, @mysweetdelia​, @venablesbitch​, @peachesandlesbians​

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

[ranmanjuu]

Can i request an ikesen hc, how would warlords react to a mc which is a physics major like sasuke and since they are both nerdy they spend a lot of time together and talk a lot about theories and all that science stuff. I think they'll get a bit jealous that mc is spending time with sasuke and confused as to ehat they're talking about lol

as stated before i have absolutely no idea of how physics is, much less of being a physics major. so like,,,,,,, all theories are ambiguous. they don’t exist other than that word. what are they talking about? the one who asked knows not more than the asker.

—shingen:

the first time of him seeing you talk with both such seriousness yet a twinkle lights in your eye, he can’t help but a chuckle let through.

“so, has sasuke finally found someone for himself?”

at first he plays up a bit of, “us mortals cannot understand what you’re speaking, my beloved deity, for you speak the language of the gods!” (”but sasuke can understand them though—”)

would absolutely, and constantly tease you for anything and everything. you could be talking about the inner workings of geophysics with sasuke and you’d hear the faint sound of wiggling eyebrows and metaphorical saxophone playing.

but of course, this won’t stop shingen from trying to win you over.

he does it his own style, the classical flirting with his sexy stature. yet, you always quip back in the jargon language he knows nothing about—and his several seconds of confoundment proves to be a good strategy as you flee the scene.

prior to you telling him that you were from the future, he did find it suspicious how you have so, so many “things that came from your hometown” that was painfully specific. and he’s shingen takeda, he’s known for being well-informed, so why hadn’t he heard of this before? some villages have their own tradition, yes, but it’s usually not enough to write at least twenty dictionaries about.

and even if he wants to find it, where would he go? the only two people who’ve learnt it are you and sasuke.

although he begins to pick up basic things whenever you talk to either him or the ninja. just small references that a high schooler can pick up.

for the sake of it, shingen’d probably try to do a physics pick-up line on you. but due to the lack of knowledge he has, it ends up with you on the floor laughing until you’re clenching your sides.

you can’t help it! it’s so wrong on so many levels it’s insanely hilarious while also painful.

after the laughter dies down, shingen takes it upon himself and pins you to the wall, his sultry eyes burning into yours, “well, it seems my goddess can do a bit of fixing on those, hm? please, my muse, do demonstrate how you do it properly.”

—kenshin:

(honorable mention hc: if you ever use terminology before the affectionate part of him comes in he’ll practically frown at you in deep confusion, “what are you talking about, you fool?”)

if his ninja had met you before he did, he probably wouldn’t have much of a problem. sasuke talks to someone, all he does is frown and just doesn’t care. but hoo boy you managed to slither into his heart without him even noticing it.

he’s just looking around the market for you, until he sees the sight of you chattering so brightly and passionately,,, with sasuke.

phase one: pouty mode. it lasts only for a few second, but his lips form a very strong scowl as it processes in his mind.

(phase one and a half: it’s where he glances at you and notice how you twinkle so brightly in his eyes—like a star beaming at him. except it isn’t at him. and so this honorary phase ends)

phase two: in a split second of his braincells barely managing together, he unsheathes his sword and begins to fish sasuke away from you. (”let’s duel, sasuke.”  /  “i’m afraid i was having a conversation with—”  /  “fight or i kill you this second.”)

phase three: usually it’s where you pull him away and lightly scold him, thus ending his bloodlust.

phase four: usually happens after the other party has left. pouty mode two: electric boogaloo; as he sulks like a child in envy and jealousy and you’re forced to cuddle with him and give him lots of kisses so he Functions properl after that.

of course, you can’t just let it repeat. you had a talk after some time, entailing that, kenshin, please stop chasing your vassals because they say one (1) word to me. with a lot of grumbling and reluctance, he agrees to it.

it won’t stop his lips forming into a scowl at the sight of it though.

he curses the oldened knowledge of the sengoku—he wanted you to talk to him about those big brained things. but alas, there wasn’t much he could do.

(”no, kenshin, you can’t go to the future just cause you wanna learn everything i learnt! the wormhole is gone and it takes at least 4 years—”)

—yukimura:

yukimura meets you the second time while talking to sasuke down in the market. and the decision to rebrand you from a wild boar to a witch casting spells were made in the flick of a second, just like that.

“hey, are you trying to hex my fried, enchantress?!”  /  “yukimura, they’re a friend from my hometown, it’s alright.”  /  “oh.”

as he says, a friend of sasuke is a friend of his! though he still doesn’t understand at all each time you make a physics reference, and still isn’t partly convinced you at least know an ancient language.

he doesn’t exactly buy into the whole ‘hometown-specific’ thing either, but hey. it’s sasuke and you, if you’re lying, he thinks, he’ll let you tell him in your own time.

but in the meantime, the fact you know terminology to references he doesn’t understand makes your daily bickering a lot funnier. what’s an atom and is his brain really smaller than that as you said? fun thing is he’ll probably never know if you and sasuke withhold such information.

if he ever sees you experimenting with something to examine the components, as long as it isn’t dangerous, he’d look at you in mild amusement and confusion, “what are you doing, silly?”

but if it dangerous (like guns, fireworks, etc.) he scolds you with a scowl, one born from pure worry.

once you two got together, you started going to dorky science puns. once again, yukimura doesn’t understand it, but the stupid grin you have on your face is just enough for him.

(he does ask sasuke about it later, resulting in a bright faced yuki, muttering a small “idiot,,” under his breath.)

—sasuke:

the moment you saw him at honno-ji, present day, you felt there was something familiar to him. like it’s a face you’ve passed through in the bustling streets. and the moment you saw his lab coat, you just assumed he somewhat came from the same college as you.

and just after he corrected you referring to him as “that college student” being an astrophysicist, your eyes brightened a thousand times, but tried to stifle it considering you were more or less being chased. 

you listened into his explanation of the wormhole closely, processing each word in fascination and curiosity. you had enough experience to know what he’s talking about—and it gave you so much euphoria from just simply listening in.

you hope to meet him again as he disappears in the shadows.

you do, to your delight. the very first day you went out to town, you encountered him at a stall. conversation immediately took off once you re-mentioned his degree, along with yours. from there, the wormhole was the center topic again, mostly talking about how he found where it would be and when it would be. you’d never heard of such a research back then.

and slowly, you grow an admiration to sasuke’s high intelligence. all the research he’s done, he’ll definitely show a fellow enthusiast, and you’re practically beaming at the chance.

so much so that you don’t notice the weirdened stares of the ones around you.

there nights when you’d sneak into his room just to ask him about something, or propose to him a theory since he’s the only person who’d get it.

and on some sleepless nights, you find yourself lying about with sasuke beneath the stars, peering into his telescope once in a while and geeking out about the small dots in the sky.

a part of you wished you met him sooner—but you feel like you couldn’t ever ask for more.

—yoshimoto:

truth be told, he didn’t care much at first.

his somewhat apathy towards people and more towards art becomes just ever so slightly apparent; as he lets you rant your heart out to sasuke while he admires some cloth in the background. you have your preferred friends, it isn’t his place to be opposed to it.

well, that’s what he thought of it—until you slowly got closer to him.

through talks of art and the different medias from your “hometown”, he learnt more and more about you. and his heart grew fonder and fonder.

until—for whatever reason—he found himself,,, feeling some kind of upset by the sight of you talking to sasuke so brightly like that? it’s like a part of him doesn’t sit well with it.

while he isn’t quite sure what he’s feeling, he’ll try to fish you away regardless. his good looks aren’t for nothing, even still having its charming effects on you.

putting up somewhat of an airheaded act, he mindlessly pulls you out of the conversation to look at some beautiful fabric, catching you off-guard for a moment. if you try to mention your talk with sasuke, it’s as if he doesn’t hear it as he whisks you off to another store. and another, another—until you’ve gotten some distance from the ninja.

even with all that effort, he doesn’t think much into the feeling inside his heart. what then felt like a storm, was now a welcoming, warm spring breeze in him.

he’ll figure it out, one day.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Prompt 10 // Dialogue6 with Nathan from Misfits since the last one was so good? This could be scary&ever so slightly steamy !

A/N: Aw, you’re so sweet darling. I’m so glad you enjoyed it. This didn’t Halloween...but it’s pretty intense/scary? I hope it satisfies. Word Count: 3487 Content Warnings: fire, near death experiences, implied death, Major Character Death (temporary), panic attack, references to Misfits S2

“Beth is throwing a big party this weekend at her doctor boyfriend’s beach house,” Alisha said nonchalantly while you and she, plus Kelly and Nicki, were out to brunch. “Maybe we should all go?”

“Wot? The four of us at some fancy bloke’s party?” Kelly asked, gesturing with her burrito.

“Well, and the guys…” Alisha shrugged. “I thought it would be fun. It’s the first time we can go wherever and not have to worry about getting busted for curfew.”

“What is the point of going to a beach house in October?” Nicki asked. “It’s too cold for swimming.”

“I don’t know! To be at a party and have fun?” Alisha snapped, volume raising enough to catch the attention of the next table over. “If you don’t want to come, don’t.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” you piped up. “They’ll probably do a bonfire, and if it’s a party thrown by rich people the booze will be quality. What have we got to lose?”

Alisha smiled at you gratefully and nodded. “See, Y/N knows. Come on, it’ll be a great time.”

By the end of brunch, you and Alisha had convinced Kelly, and Nicki said she would go if Curtis wanted to, which was the best you could get from her (now that she was being slowly but awkwardly integrated into a friendship built on a core bond of murder and near death experiences that you hoped for her sake she’d never actually understand). You were confident that Simon would be uncomfortable but willing to do whatever Alisha wanted, and Nathan...well Nathan could easily be bribed by the promise of booze and drunk girls. 

You sighed a little sadly at the thought. You liked him a lot, when he wasn’t being totally obnoxious for the sake of a laugh, but not once in all of your time together had he ever indicated that he might be interested. If anything, you thought he might hate you, at least in comparison to the others. Still, you tried not to dwell on it as you said goodbye to the others and headed off to work, where you would undoubtedly see him, since he always dropped in to try and convince you to give him free lunch (which you did, not telling him it came out of your already meager paycheck). 

~

The night of the party, you linked sweater-covered arms with Alisha as the two of you staggered down the dunes toward the gathered crowd, the thick sand making you move as if you were already drunk. 

“So are you finally going to say something tonight?” she asked you as you walked. 

“What are you talking about?” you countered, turning to give her a puzzled look.

“Oh come on. Everyone knows you fancy Nathan! Except him.”

Even though you couldn’t see her face in the dim light, you knew her well enough to guess the look on her face.

“As if it matters. He’s definitely not into me, so why waste my breath humiliating myself?”

“You don’t know that for sure. He’s probably never matured past the whole ‘be mean to them so they don’t know you like them’ from grade school. And tonight could be perfect. The glow of the bonfire, the stars overhead. It’s actually pretty romantic if you think about it.”

“I think I’ll leave the romance to you and Simon,” you laughed, giving her a gentle shove toward her boyfriend where he stood on the fringes of the group, bobbing (dancing?) awkwardly with a beer in hand. 

She turned around to stick her tongue out at you before greeting him with a shy smile. You shook your head, happy for the both of them and their budding romance, before wandering a little further down the beach to get yourself a drink.

“Nice turtleneck,” a familiar voice drawled sarcastically.

You rolled your eyes, plucking a beer from one of the massive buckets of ice, and turning to face him. 

“Hey Nathan,” you sighed.

“Aw, don’t say it like that,” he pouted dramatically. “Ya know yer happy to see me.”

“Ugh, actually I was hoping that for one night you’d not be hangin around,” you muttered, half-lying. 

He looked shocked for a moment, hurt flashing in his brilliant green eyes before he turned away with a shrug. “Fine then, I’ll leave ya alone. I’m sure there’s way prettier than ya around anyway. Fanny for days, and I don’t need ya.”

“You’re a prick!” you growled at his retreating back, fumbling to open the bottle in your hand and take a deep drink, slicing your hand on the edge of the cap in the process. “Shit.”

“Need some help with that?” a new voice asked. 

You looked up into a pair of friendly brown eyes and smiled softly. “Uh, sure. Thanks.” 

He smiled back at you, introducing himself as John, and held out his hand for you to place yours in. He poured water over it, wrapping it in a napkin after, holding pressure on it for a long moment before checking to see if it had stopped bleeding.

“So what’s the verdict?” you asked jokingly. “Do I get to keep my hand?”

“Actually, I was hoping I could,” he attempted a wink and laughed when it came out more awkward than suave. You couldn’t help but laugh along, feeling your face grow warm as he did in fact maintain his hold on you and ushered you back toward the fire and the group.

“He’s wrong you know,” he said. 

“What?” you asked in confusion.

“That guy. He was wrong about there being prettier people around. You’re the most beautiful person on this beach.”

You bit your lip, looking shyly down at your feet. “Oh…I mean, probably not…”

“I think so. And I graduated top of my class, so I think I know a thing or two.” Seeing you shift uncomfortably, he smiled. “Hey, let’s dance.” 

Not having any reason to deny him, even though he really wasn’t the one you wanted to be dancing with, you nodded, shifting so that your arms draped around his shoulders, your still mostly full beer clutched lightly by the neck. His hands came to rest on your hips, large and warm even through your shirt, and the two of you swayed to the music drifting over the crowd.

~

Nathan watched darkly as Y/N danced with some other guy. His chest felt tight as they laughed and swayed together, as he leaned in to whisper something that made Y/N blush, and his lips twisted into a scowl. He took a swig from the red solo cup of mystery alcohol he had snagged and was just about to storm over and interrupt when Kelly cut in front of him.

“Wot do ya think yer doin?” she asked, gesturing in that scolding way of hers. 

“I was just going over there,” he said, innocently. “Wanted to meet Y/N’s new friend.”

“Don’t,” he glared at her. “Ya’ve blown at least a half dozen shots with Y/N. I don’t blame ‘em if they decided ya ain’t worth it.”

Nathan’s face dropped. “Ya don’t know what yer talkin about Kel,” he muttered.

“I didn’t mean it like that Nathan, and ya know it. I’m just sayin, there’s nothing wrong with Y/N dancing with a cute guy and wanting to just stay mates with ya.”

“Except we aren’t even mates. Y/N barely tolerates me.”

“Well maybe if you weren’t such a prick all the time, pushing their buttons almost as bad as you do with Simon…”

“I do not!”

Before Kelly could respond, someone screamed, echoing over the dark beach and causing everyone to turn toward the water.

“There’s something out there!” the girl cried, pointing shakily. 

People began looking restlessly around at each other, no one sure what to do. And then someone laughed. 

“Real funny, Beth,” a voice called. “Ooh something spooky in the water! Next you’ll be saying there’s ghosts in the attic.”

A few nervous chuckles ran through the group as people returned to their activities, the air of tension not quite lifting. 

~

“You don’t think there’s actually something out there do you?” Nicki asked, her and Curtis appearing near you and making you jump, almost spilling your drink on John.

You took a shaky breath, bringing the bottle to your lips to give yourself time to reply without sounding scared. 

“Nah,” you said eventually. “I mean, what could be out there?”

“Yeah, it was probably just like a seagull or something,” John said, laughing. “Beth is always so overdramatic.” Something about the way he said it grated on your nerves but you tried to shrug it off.

Curtis raised an eyebrow at the hand still on your waist. You shrugged slightly. Of all your friends, he and his girlfriend would probably be the most proud of you for trying to move past your unfortunate crush on Nathan, but the attempt was only half-hearted so you almost didn’t want to admit it. 

Another scream rang out. A different voice this time. High and sharp and insistent that there was something out there in the shadows. One of the classic dudebros made some joke about “chicks being hysterical” and started heading for the water. Several people tried to stop him, saying that it was too dangerous. He ignored all of them. Shortly after he hit the water, his outline suddenly disappeared. 

After that, chaos ensued with people screaming and running in all directions. Some headed for the water, phone flashlights glancing off the waves as they looked for the missing man. Most seemed determined to just be anywhere but there. Someone crashed into the corner of the pallet stack that formed the base of the bonfire, going down in a scream of pain under the now fallen and spreading fire. Nicki swore, the explicative disappearing as she vanished. 

You lost track of both Curtis and John in the crush, struggling to keep your feet as you waded through the loose, stirred up sand. 

You wanted to help but you didn’t know how.

You tripped. Falling onto the uneven ground, you tucked in on yourself, trying to protect your head and organs from the stampede now over and around you.

~

“There you guys are!” Alisha cried, her and Simon running up to the group as they huddled together up the beach, standing on a rocky hill and looking down at the churning crowd and roaring fire, spitting below. 

“We have to do something,” Simon said, frowning. 

“Like wot?” Kelly snapped. “None of us can fight fires. And whatever’s in the water…” she shuddered, not wanting to think about some shark or other horrifying sea monster.

“Wait, where’s Y/N?” Nathan asked, looking around and realizing you were missing. 

“Shit,” Curtis said, running nervous hands over his head. “They were right behind me...I must have lost ‘em in the crowd…”

“Y/N is smart…” Alisha tried to reason. 

“Yeah. Yeah. Probably just on another part of the beach…” Nicki sounded more scared than convincing.

“Hey.” Nathan jumped, turning to see Y/N standing behind him, no worse for wear, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Oh thank god. Jesus, Y/N. You had us worried,” he sighed, trying to calm his racing heart. “I mean...they were worried. I wasn’t...ya know cus I don’t…aw fuck, I was worried too. Thought ya might be buried under all that mess.”

You bit your lip, raising your eyes as you nodded to the rest of the group. He looked back to realize they were all staring at him in concern.

“Nathan, what the fuck are you on?” Alisha snapped. “Y/N’s not there. No one is.”

“No. No no no. That means…” he turned back to look at you, desperation in his eyes as reality dawned on him.

“I died. Tripped and got trampled. Lame right?”

He shook his head, tugging at his curls. “Shiiiit.”

“What else did you think I was apologizing for?” you tried to tease, tears rolling down both your faces.

“Nathan, is Y/N…is she dead?” Simon asked hesitantly. “Are you talking to her ghost?”

He swallowed heavily, nodding reluctantly. Curtis gasped.

~

“There you guys are!” Alisha cried, her and Simon running up to the group as they huddled together up the beach, standing on a rocky hill and looking down at the churning crowd and roaring fire, spitting below. 

“We have to do something,” Simon said, frowning. 

“Like wot?” Kelly snapped. “None of us can fight fires. And whatever’s in the water…” she shuddered, not wanting to think about some shark or other horrifying sea monster.

“Wait, where’s Y/N?” Nathan asked, looking around and realizing you were missing. 

“Down there somewhere!” Curtis answered, craning his neck as if he could spot you in the crowd.

“Wot?!” Kelly shouted. “How do you know?” Her face fell. “You already did this at least once. Which means…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence, but they all knew how it ended.

Nathan was panicking. He could feel it. It was like dying. Except that he was fine, physically. Still his throat felt constricted and his blood was racing in his ears. He couldn’t think straight. All he could focus on was the fact that Y/N wasn’t there, was somewhere else and in danger, that Curtis had changed time and it was connected to their absence. He refused to think of what that meant. He refused.

He took off running.

“Nathan!” Kelly called after him. “Wot the fuck are you doing?!”

He barely heard her. His trainers sank into the sand, slowing every step he took and he wanted to scream in frustration. People pushed and shoved him and he started swinging fists and bony elbows as he fought the flow of fleeing adolescents. Somewhere nearby, fire reached one of the big open vats of jungle juice and roared up, the wave of heat knocking people off their feet. 

“Y/N!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, hoping that you could hear and answer him. 

The air smelled like burning plastic, and hair, and other things he didn’t want to think about. 

“No, no...I can’t...not again…” tears stung as he continued to push his way through, even though he didn’t notice it. It was just like Jamie and he was just as useless. He was always useless.

He stumbled over something large, and swore, barely keeping his balance. He muttered something about damn rocks when the something groaned. He looked down. It was hard to see but he was pretty sure...yeah, that was a familiar green turtleneck. He actually laughed in relief as he dropped to his knees, scrabbling to pull you up and get you to move. 

~

All you could think was that this was how you died. No, that wasn’t true. You also found yourself wondering if you would end up a specter, haunting Nathan, or just a charred skeleton and no one would ever know for sure what happened. 

And then there were hands. Soft, pulling hands. Hands that wanted you to uncurl, to rise up, that wanted to help you do it. You ached, and your eyes stung (there was definitely sand in them, plus the smoke, at the very least). Your breath came in short coughs. The hands were attached to arms that were now around your shoulders and waist, supporting you, helping you stand, helping you run, or rather limp, onward. 

Eventually, the world became cooler, and your breathing became a little easier. You were still scared to open your eyes. You were still sure this was a dream in the moments before death’s embrace. 

You couldn’t run anymore, dropping down onto the sand once more, not even caring enough to guard your squishy bits.

“Y/N?” Nathan’s voice, strained and quiet. 

When nothing immediately caused you more injury, you rolled over onto your back, relieving some of the strain on your aching neck and chest.

“Y/N, say somethin,” he pleaded.

“Owwww,” you groaned, slowly peeling open one sand-coated eyelid and then the other, blinking rapidly to clear away the debris.

Nathan was beaming down at you. You marvelled at the way his hair flopped so perfectly over his forehead and the fact that this might have been the first real smile that you had ever seen. It was beautiful. 

“What’s that dopey look for?” you snapped, a little annoyed but only because you were in pain. 

“You alright?” he asked.

“I just got trampled by a stampede of co-eds on a burning beach. What the fuck do you think the answer to that question is, pretty boy?” The sarcastic nickname slipped out unintentionally, but you couldn’t deny it, he was pretty.

“Sounds t’ me like you’re just fine.” 

You struggled to sit up and his hands shot out to brace you. Surprisingly, most of your bruises felt minor, except for the persistent pounding in your head, and now that you were in the clear air and not scared shitless, breathing wasn’t so hard. 

“Guess so. I take it, I have you to thank?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. 

He nodded. “It was nothin’. I mean I can’t die right?”

“You can. You just don’t stay dead. And you’ve said before that it still hurts. So I guess I owe you for riskin’ that for me,” you said.

He suddenly pulled you into a hug, long arms curling tightly around you. You buried your face in his chest and the several layers of jackets he was wearing. Now that the ordeal was over, you felt like crying. You weren’t sure, but you thought Nathan might already be.

“I’m really glad yer okay, Y/N,” he mumbled against your hair. “I was scared I’d lose ya without tellin ya I fancy ya.”

“Sure ya do Nathan,” you said, rolling your eyes and trying not to wince as it made you a little dizzy. 

He sputtered indignantly. “I do. I fancy ya and I know yer way too good for me, so I tried not to. But...I don’t wanna do that…”

“Nathan…” you fought to keep your voice from cracking. How long had you waited for this? How many times had you dreamed of him saying it? Except maybe without the self-deprecation. 

“I know I cocked it up. But ya know I’m not good at the feelings bullshit,” He continued as if he hadn’t heard you.

“Nathan.”

“And if ya’d rather that other bloke, the one ya were dancin with...I won’t get in the way.”

“Nathan!” you finally shouted.

He startled. “Yeah?”

“Will you shut up and kiss me you dunce?” you asked, leaning back to look into his bright green eyes.

He licked his lower lip nervously and you felt your gaze drawn to it. Then his soft mouth was pressed to yours and you felt like you were melting. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding each other close. You traced your tongue over the path you had watched his take and he parted, dancing together with you. He groaned, fingers tightening on your waist. 

Slowly, you drew back, smiling at the sight of him sitting there, his eyes closed and lips still slightly parted. You looked around at where you were: far enough down the beach that you were safe from the spreading fire, and completely alone but not so far that you couldn’t see it, wouldn’t know what happened. You knew you should get back to the group. 

“In case it wasn’t obvious,” you said softly. “I like you too, Nathan. A lot.”

“I mean, duh. I’m gorgeous,” he said, gesturing to himself with one hand which quickly returned to its place on your side. 

You laughed. Alisha’s words from the beginning of the night echoed in your head, feeling like they were uttered a lifetime ago, like a prophecy across the ages. ‘The glow of the bonfire, the stars overhead. It’s actually pretty romantic if you think about it.’ Maybe it wasn’t how she’d meant it, but you had always been good at making the best of a situation. 

“We should probably stay here, wait out the emergency crews or the fire to die out on it’s own before we go back…” you suggested, smilingly devilishly.

“Yeah. I don’t exactly love the idea of goin back through there,” he agreed, nodding up the beach. 

“Of course, who knows how long that’ll take. We might get bored…”

His eyebrows shot up. “What are you suggestin, Y/N?”

“Well that depends.”

“Oh? On what?”

“You.” You cocked your head to one side. “The night is young, the moon is full, so what are you going to do with me, Nathan?”

He returned your smirk with one of your own before slowly laying you back on the sand. 

“You saucy minx,” he teased, leaning in so his lips brushed yours. “I have a few ideas.”

[sweetsoundsofignorance]

Currently running around bugging people and I want to know your thoughts on this: if you had full creative control of the show, how would you run season 5? You can pick and choose whatever leaks you want to include.

Thank you for the ask! 💕 A very fun exercise, and there has been some excellent speculation from the fandom. I’ve enjoyed reading everyone’s takes on it that I’m almost inclined to create bingo cards out of everyone’s nuttier speculations and play Riverdale batshit bingo for the season, a la Cabin the Woods.

I should say Riverdale speculation and leaks can leave me feeling overwhelmed at times, so I drift in and out when they are circling. Therefore, this rant is limited to the leaks/speculation/trailer gifs I have seen or heard about because I have no self-control. I’ve also not seen 4x17 or 4x18 (though I feel like I have through a mishmash of so many GIFs and recaps and speculations). In my mind, 4x17 is just *insert gif of Betty standing in the middle of the woods holding a bloody rock* Atm, no one knows how we got there.

Given the beginning of season five will be the tail-end of season four, perhaps start there? This got away from me, so it’s under the cut.

I imagine they will close four with the reveal of the voyeur and Chic/Charles plotline (with Riverdale you never know where they’re going to be selectively sloppy). In that case, I have fully adopted the following speculation/serenity prayer: see @sullypants theory here. It’s the perfect level of batshit Riverdale and it’s consistent with the hypnosis (cannot keep a straight face just typing it) plotline. I know, consistent and Riverdale should never be in the same sentence without some negative participle in between. So, that “cleans up” the Bughead infidelity but leaves Varchie in the weeds (sigh). It would ex out Charles/Chic. The fallout would break up Falice, possibly.

 FP gets busted for all the shady shit he’s done as sheriff and has to flee the country, so hi, Canada, but no wrestle mania with the grizzly bears this time. Or he gets eaten by a bear. I don’t care.

 Veronica gains some self-agency and leaves for college. Though I want her to get out from under her father, loyalty to family is so engrained with the Lodges that I don’t see it happening. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Hiram’s terminal illness kills him. If Toni and Cheryl break up, Cheronica may happen through their rum business, which takes off. I would not be remiss if Cheryl and Veroncia were endgame, but I know it won’t shake out like that, so. Also, if it is hypnosis, I hope Veronica and Betty would still be friends long-distance.

 Toni takes the reins for the Southside, ends the rampant Serpent misogyny, actually makes the neighborhood a safe space for the residents, and works to end the cycle of poverty. She manages the White Wyrm, and yes, there are still strippers because nothing wrong with that, but the Serpent Dance is barely a footnote. I am curious if they will shoot around Vanessa’s pregnancy, but if they incorporate it into the show, I would not be against Cheryl and Toni having a child together. If they did not break up.

 For Jughead, he got his MFA at Iowa, but in true millennial fashion, never made it past that (for a great fic on the plight of the underemployed over-educated millennial see @imreallyloveleee head underwater). He might have written a first novel that was semi-popular, received a few good reviews but overall lambasted by the bigger names. Head canon is that it becomes a cult classic in later years, perhaps a screenplay. Hard forever no to him being an alcoholic, but I can see some Sideways-level angst dealing with trying to get over writer’s block (plus anxiety block based on the mediocre success of his first) for his next novel and some bitterness about his first novel, which may be the driving wedge between Jughead and whoever ends up being his SO in this scenario.

 Jughead as an English teacher gels for me. I’ve written him as an English teacher. I like reading him as an English Teacher (*cough* *cough* @geekspen). Though they flopped with the Jug and Jellybean relationship in season four, I always imagined Jughead from season one and that brief moment in season three as a very present and considerate big brother type. Based on those brief interactions we have gotten, I would believe Jughead is good with kids, especially teenagers. He’s had experience dealing with dumbass adolescents, i.e. the Serpents, and (kind of) keeping them in line, mainly by out-extra-ing the morons (see declaring himself gamemaster by ordering Cheryl to shoot an arrow through a can on his head). I see him being that curmudgeonly teacher that gets along with those grab-bag students on the edge of committing a crime out of sheer boredom who linger in their English teacher’s classrooms during lunch and after school (that’s how we started our creative writing club in high school), and that leads me to a head-canon about him starting, yes, a creative writing club or running the Blue and Gold. I love full-circle shit like that. I think he would be an objectively bad teacher but a very good one in the context of Riverdale, if that makes sense.

 Bughead long distance did not pan out, and Betty being Betty immersed herself in her career – degree in criminal psychology, BSU at the FBI, the whole shebang. Reports of a giant man with red eyes and wings seen in the vicinity of places where people are disappearing. FBI!Betty investigates these at her alma mater until one happens in Riverdale, which drags her investigation thattaway.

 Veronica is unhappy with her SO for whatever reason (not exactly jazzed about her being with a douche but ok). She is successful but wistful. Her father dies. She uses it as an excuse to break up with her SO and return to Riverdale to help her mother manage the estate. Because Veronica is successful in her own right, most of the estate goes to her mother and Hermosa. She returns to Pop’s one night for nostalgia’s sake. She signed the diner back over to Tate years ago.

 Jughead is there struggling to write after a fight with his SO.

 Side note: I don’t like love triangles. Even less, I don’t like setups for more infidelity, even if it would lead to my ship ending up together. I understand that is often the reality (I’ve witnessed it), but I think it is bad writing. So, for any of the core four’s respective SOs, please no cheating on them. Break it off. Learn from your mistakes. Therefore, Jughead soon breaks up with his SO after meeting Veronica in Pop’s.

 Veronica sits with him. Cue some reminiscing. Perhaps the mystery starts in the speakeasy, of which Veronica is still the partial owner. This connects Betty and Veronica down the road. Because Jughead witnessed it, Betty crosses paths with him.

 Initially, Betty is reticent to let Jughead get involved with her investigation. However, Jughead is just as obsessed with the mystery (because he’s him), so they keep running into each other. He gets in the way a few times (more tension). Eventually, Jughead ends up discovering some important piece of evidence that Betty needs, so she gives in. Before he joins her investigation, he may be keeping his own personal murder board in the Blue and Gold at school after hours… Lots of sexual tension. I’d even be down for friends with benefits because *insert gif of Donna accusing Betty of being addicted to Jug’s vitamin D*. But Betty knows she isn’t going to stay in Riverdale and they’ve already tried and failed long-distance, so she keeps putting on the brakes. Jughead starts to get his writing mojo back, too, because I will never not believe Betty is his muse.

 Archie. Oh Archie. Deployed overseas for a time, though I cannot stand the idea of giving this kid anymore PTSD. He returns, and for a while, spends most of his time alone at the old gym and in the Andrews home. His old army buddy shows up out of work. He works with Toni to create a real community center for the Southside youth because I enjoyed that poorly executed plotline in season four. This also gives his army buddy a job. His army buddy is from New Haven, so he ends up being a Mothman suspect, given it started at Betty’s alma mater.

 Through his work with Toni, he gets dragged into Jughead’s orbit. Maybe they both try to reactivate the community center’s big brother program together. It’s just very difficult for me to imagine Jughead accepting/forgiving Archie, and though I cannot imagine how they would resolve it, I would like to see it.