#UPDATE: to clarify the ask box will be open for a few days

[ponydoodles]

Halloween themed requests are open for a few days!

Please refrain from sending bat pony/vampire requests since we got a massive influx of them last year that got repetitive, other then that, go crazy! -Mod Salem

[helloalycia]

girl next door [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: somebody new moves into the flat next to yours and you feel the need to introduce yourself, only to learn she's not very talkative

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: first part to a three-parter i’ve been working on, hope you like it! (also the masterlist needs to be updated so soz about that)

part two | part three | part four | part five |masterlist | wattpad

Shopping bags in hand, I returned from the supermarket to my flat when I saw the usually-vacant flat next door to me in use. The front door was slightly ajar, with several moving boxes in front and the sound of someone moving about inside. Huh, so someone moved in. It had been vacant for half a year now – it was nice to finally have a neighbour!

I headed to my own flat, my nosey self taking a peek through the door to see if I could have an idea of who was moving in, but I couldn't see anyone, so I continued to go into my own place and unpack my groceries. After doing so, I decided to head next door and introduce myself, excited to meet someone new in the building.

The boxes from earlier were gone now, probably all inside, and the door was shut like I usually saw it. I sucked up a breath before knocking on, a friendly smile reserved on my lips for whoever would open.

It took a moment, but the door finally opened and revealed a brunette with bright hazel eyes and a mildly confused expression on her face. She seemed strangely familiar, but I couldn't quite pinpoint it.

"Hey! I just wanted to come 'round and introduce myself. I'm your new neighbour." I pointed to my door next to hers and added, "I saw you moving in earlier. I'm Y/N."

She pursed her lips, eyes glancing around subtly before looking me up and down. "Er, hi... I'm Wanda."

I detected a slight accent in her voice with the few words she spoke and became immediately intrigued since everyone in this building was usually the same old American. I didn't ask about it though, as I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable at our first meeting.

"Nice to meet you, Wanda," I returned with a smile. "I've been living here for a year now, so if you need a hand with anything or need pointers for where to get the best Chinese, I'm your girl." I paused, expecting some sort of reaction, but she didn't move a muscle. Swallowing awkwardly, I added, "Of course, if you just need a hand with unpacking or anything, I'm also happy to help."

She still didn't reply, and in fact, she looked a bit peeved with my presence which made me realise that maybe she just wasn't a talkative person.

I cleared my throat nervously before finishing with, "I'll, er, I'll leave you to it. Sorry to disturb you..."

I chewed on my lower lip as I avoided her piercing gaze and went back to my own place. Not everybody was interested in befriending their neighbours, I got that, so I respected her decision and decided not to bother her in the future. It didn't make me feel any less embarrassed at my intrusiveness though.

I didn't think much of it until the following morning when I was watering my plants out on the fire escape. My fire escape was joined with the neighbour's – the neighbour that usually didn't exist but was now Wanda. The brunette was stood there, drinking some coffee and staring out into the distance. I debated wishing her a good morning, but decided against it as I recalled her being quite introverted. Instead, I awkwardly watered the several plant pots I had, opting to stay quiet so I could be in and out without bugging her once more.

To my surprise, she spoke up and it took me a second to realise she was talking to me.

I held my watering jug upright as I glanced in her direction. She was already staring at me, deep set eyes darkened over the rim of her coffee cup.

"What's that?" I asked, not sure what she’d said.

She cleared her throat, eyes flickering to the plants to distract from her discomfort. "I'm sorry. For being strange yesterday. You were being warm and welcoming and I just..." She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "I've had a bad past few weeks. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

I definitely wasn't expecting that, then realised how many bad days I'd had and taken out on random strangers. I didn't blame her and instead felt bad for her – moving into a new place was supposed to be exciting, so I couldn't imagine what had ruined her past few weeks.

"Well, apology accepted," I said with a small smile. "And I hope things begin to look up for you soon, Wanda."

Her lips twitched into the tiniest of smiles and I noticed how different she looked when she wasn't down in the dumps – she was quite beautiful.

I finished watering my plants before giving her a final smile. I was about to head back inside, but I hung back curiously.

"Er, Wanda, if you don't mind me saying," I started randomly, "you seem familiar. We haven't met before, have we?"

She raised her eyebrows with surprise. "Oh, really? You don't kn–?" She tilted her head to the side, as if expecting me to understand, but I wasn't sure what she wanted. "I... I guess I just have one of those faces."

I studied her curiously, trying to figure it out. But nothing was coming to mind, so I hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I guess so... anyway, enjoy the rest of your day."

She nodded. "You, too."

–

The next time I saw Wanda was probably a week later, just after I collected my mail from the mailroom. I'd received one of those random free trial boxes for a subscription I must have accidentally signed up for – a box of different flavoured trail mixes – and felt bad throwing it out since it was still food at the end of the day. There were nuts in the mixes, which I was allergic to, so I decided to knock on Wanda's door and see if she wanted them.

I hadn't spoken to her since she moved in, except for the occasional good morning on the fire escape if we saw one another, so I hoped she was a little happier compared to when we last spoke properly. Maybe whatever had bothered her was resolved now.

When she opened the door, she seemed surprised that it was me, probably not expecting me to stop by again after last time.

I offered her a smile. "Hey, Wanda. I, er, hope this isn't a bad time."

She shook her head after recovering from her surprise. "No, no, it's not. Is everything okay?" She paused, glancing around, unprepared. "Do you want to come in or...?"

"It's okay, I'm good here," I said when I saw how uncomfortable she seemed. I wasn't just about to invite myself into her flat because she felt she needed to ask. "I just stopped by because, well, do you want this?" I handed her the box, adding, "I got a free sample in the post. Didn't wanna throw it out because it's food, y'know? And I'm allergic to nuts, so my throat will probably puff up and stop me from breathing which isn't good."

I laughed awkwardly, internally cringing at how I spoke utter nonsense because of her lack of her words and my stupid need to fill the silence.

"Unless you're allergic to nuts too," I added as an afterthought, when she glanced at the packaging with no readable expression. "In which case I should probably throw them right away and this whole thing is stupid."

After what felt like an eternity of me not shutting up, she lifted her gaze, eyes softening with a hint of amusement.

"I'm not allergic to nuts," she assured me, before nodding. "Thank you, Y/N."

I relaxed, not even realising how tense my shoulders were. "That's– that's good... so, how are you settling into your new place? All good, I hope?"

Subconsciously, I chewed on the inside of my mouth, wondering why I was so eager to speak to somebody who clearly didn't want to speak to me. She was so quiet, not a woman of many words, yet I couldn't help but feel responsible for welcoming her.

"It's nice," she said, glancing around thoughtfully. "It's quiet. Private."

I nodded in agreement, eyes falling to her doorframe as I said, "Yeah, that's true. Nothing eventful ever happens here."

She hummed, acknowledging my words. I figured the conversation had ran dry and I'd stayed a little too long, so I tried to think of a way to end it without her feeling forced to. Instead, she spoke up next.

"I like your garden."

I furrowed my brows, wondering what she was talking about.

"The flowers on our fire escape," she clarified, small smile tugging at her lips. "They're beautiful."

I stifled a laugh. "I mean, thanks, but it's barely a garden. I've always wanted a proper space to grow stuff, but obviously I can't have that here."

"Well, you've done a great job with what you have," she complimented, and I was sure it was the most she'd spoken to me since moving in. I suddenly didn't feel like she disliked my presence as much as I once thought.

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "Maybe you can start your own alongside mine some day."

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but probably not. Everything I touch–" She paused, life leaving her eyes momentarily, and head looking down to her shoes. "Everything I touch dies."

I pressed my lips together, not expecting the awkward silence to follow. Wanda seemed stuck in thought and I wasn't sure how I'd managed to bring the conversation down so suddenly, especially with the talk of flowers.

"The lovely thing about flowers," I began, earning her attention and hoping to brighten the mood, "is that they only require a little love, some sunlight and some water to keep going. They tend to take care of themselves. Perfect for even the blackest of thumbs."

She let out a breath through her nose, a half chuckle and half acknowledgment of my comment. It was the closest I'd get to a response, so I ran a hand through my hair and took a step back.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're settling in okay," I concluded with a kind smile. "Again, if you need anything, I'm just next door."

"Thank you," she said, returning the smile, and her eyes sparkled as she did. "Have a good afternoon, Y/N."

"You, too, Wanda."

–

The apartment complex I lived in rarely had people entering that I didn't recognise – I'd lived here long enough to know who was who, even the postwoman and maintenance guy. So, when I was leaving for the supermarket and saw a suspicious-looking man walking down the hall, eyes checking every door, I grew curious.

"You okay there, sir?" I called out to him after locking my front door.

He looked my way, readjusting his cap lower on his head, casting a shadow over his face. "Er, yeah..." He hesitated, glancing at his phone before looking to me again. "Actually, maybe you can help me. I'm looking for Wanda Maximoff's apartment. Do you know which one that is?"

I narrowed my eyes at the tall stranger. "I'm sure you can understand my concern when I ask who's asking."

"Oh, no, I completely understand," he said with a nod, and I could swear I had seen him before. "I'm an old friend of hers."

I quirked a brow. Strange man who claimed to a woman-who-lived-alone's friend? That had trouble written all over it. And from one woman to another, I was concerned, even if I didn’t know her very well.

"That's not saying much, sir," I said, biting back the annoyance. "I think that maybe you should–"

I stopped speaking when Wanda's door opened and she popped her head out. She looked to me before spotting the tall stranger, shoulders relaxing.

"I thought I heard you out here," she mumbled to the stranger, before stepping out fully and giving me a reassuring look. "It's okay, Y/N. I know him."

I nodded, glancing at the man, before meeting Wanda's eyes knowingly. "If you're sure..."

She seemed comfortable as she crossed her arms, hugging herself. Smiling reassuringly, she nodded. I relaxed when I saw she knew the suspicious stranger.

"In that case, sorry 'bout the interrogation," I apologised to her friend. "But, you gotta understand with the whole getup you have..."

Her friend chuckled deeply, looking to his shoes with amusement. "Yeah, sorry about that, ma'am. Didn't mean to worry you. It's nice to know Wanda here has thoughtful neighbours though."

"I'm twenty-two, not a ma'am," I said with amusement, before shaking my head. "Anyway, I should get going. Sorry again."

Wanda and her friend nodded as I left them; I was just glad it wasn't some creepy perv stalking our building – that had happened once.

I headed to the supermarket to do some shopping when I saw Wanda again, this time in the milk aisle. Well, she actually saw me, her trolley stopping before mine as she got my attention.

"Oh, Wanda, hey," I greeted her with a smile. "Fancy seeing you here."

She cracked a smile. "Yeah, well, I needed to pick up a few things. Milk, actually," she grabbed some from the fridge to prove her point, "when I saw you."

I nodded, before remembering earlier and feeling a little embarrassed. "Hey, er, sorry about before with your friend. I hope I didn't offend them or anything."

"No need to apologise," she said with a shake of her head. "It's actually very nice of you to have my back like that. I mean, we don't even know each other that well, but you watched out for me. I appreciate it."

"It's the bare minimum of a neighbour," I joked, before settling into genuine smile. "Besides, I'd like to think you'd do the same."

"Of course," she agreed, nodding slightly, before her eyes drifted to the fridge.

I noticed that every conversation we shared felt unfinished, like there was more to be said but neither of us had the guts to say it. Like now, for example, I wanted to check in and see if she was okay, but I felt like I was overstepping since, as she'd put it, we didn’t know each other very well. So, I changed the subject instead.

"So, just milk then?" I asked, nodding to her trolley which had a few bits and bobs in.

She was confused for a moment, zoning back into reality, before it registered in her mind and she answered, "Along with a few other things. And you?"

"Pretty much same," I said with a shrug.

Her eyes lingered in my trolley as she stifled a smile. "That looks like a lot more than a few things, Y/N." 

I almost laughed. "Technically, yeah, I guess..." I met her curious gaze, explaining, "I'm having a meal with my sister, her boyfriend and my boyfriend at my place tonight. Cooking a lamb roast." She raised her eyebrows with mild surprise, making me shrug dismissively. "It's not that big of a deal, but there's a lot to prepare and I like things to be perfect, so yeah."

She licked her lips and nodded. "It sounds great. Good luck, I guess. I'm sure it'll turn out wonderful."

"Fingers crossed."

She chuckled, glancing at her shoes, making her dark hair fall in front of her like a curtain. When she looked back up, I couldn't help but smile at how cute she looked.

"I'll leave you to it then," she said, before redirecting her trolley around me. "See you whenever."

"See you." I nodded as she walked past me, shoulder brushing mine and leaving me startled at the weird effect she had on me whenever we spoke.

It didn't last for long though, so I brushed it off and continued to do my shop. The evening couldn't come soon enough, and I soon found myself entertaining my boyfriend, my sister and her boyfriend at my dinner table.

"So I was cooking us a nice meal, as we planned, and she ended up having a go at me because of the mess I made afterwards," my boyfriend, Teddy, was explaining to my sister and her boyfriend, Caleb. "That's why I don't try to be romantic anymore."

I paused from sipping my water, looking over at Teddy with an are you serious? look on my face. Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at Teddy's story, but I wasn't as amused as they were.

"Aw, c'mon, babe, don't be pissed off again," Teddy pleaded teasingly from beside me. "It's a joke. I'm joking."

"But that's not how it happened," I corrected him, before looking to the couple before me. "What Teddy means to say is that I had just cleaned the kitchen and told him that when he cooks, he should try to clean as he goes along so it's easier, but of course, he drops cream everywhere and I had to clean it out of the crevices of the counter. All over again."

Y/S/N and Caleb laughed at my retelling of the story, and Teddy frowned playfully as he looked my way.

"And that's definitely not the reason you're not romantic," I said to him promisingly. "When was the last time you even got me flowers?"

He tried to take lead of the conversation again, straightening up and asking, "When was the last time you got me flowers? Feminism, Y/N. It goes both ways."

He was never usually this obnoxious and it was irking me. Y/S/N and Caleb assumed it was all a joke, so were laughing it off, but I was starting to get frustrated. How could he try and make me look terrible in front of my own family?

"I bought you flowers two weeks ago when you got your promotion, remember?" I answered him with a raised brow.

"Damn, she got you there, Ted," Caleb said like it was a burn.

I subtly clenched my jaw and distracted myself with sipping water. Teddy sighed and tried to wrap an arm around me, but I pulled away slightly.

"Oh, come on, you're not mad, are you? This is all in good faith, babe," he said lightly.

I downed my water and looked between them all. "I think I'm gonna get some air. You guys enjoy your drinks."

They all chorused their disagreements, but I couldn't be bothered dealing with them when they were tipsy and annoying, so I ignored them and headed to the fire escape for a breather.

When I reached the railing, I sighed immediately, feeling like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Until I heard a creaking noise and jumped with surprise before seeing Wanda sitting on her side of the fire escape, drink in hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said apologetically.

I breathed out, turning around and leaning my back against the railing so I could see her better. "It's okay, it's not you. I just– I forgot you could be there. Used to living without a neighbour. It's taking some getting used to."

I forced a small smile to reassure her, before looking down and taking small breaths of fresh air. Teddy could get under my skin at times, tonight being one of those times, and it was happening more and more lately. Why couldn't he just be less... annoying?

"Is everything okay?" Wanda asked, and I looked up fo see her green-gold eyes glowing in the dark under the moon light.

"Yeah," I said with a nod. I glanced inside, seeing my three guests laughing it up like I was still there. I collapsed on my chair and stared into the bustling city ahead. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Wanda hesitated. "Didn't you have that dinner tonight?"

I leaned in the palm of my hand, mumbling, "Yeah. It's still going on. I just needed some air."

Wanda must have sensed there was more to my words – it didn't take a genius to see that – but to my relief, she didn't push on. All she said was, "Oh, okay," and stayed quiet.

The two of us sat there, in a comfortable silence, staring into the city and revelling in the moon's presence. It was beautiful out, though not a single star could be seen because of the city's pollution. Instead, the moon hung high above our heads and conflicted with the many street and building lights of New York City, thriving even past dusk.

I probably could have stayed there all night, preferring Wanda's silent yet comfortable presence to whatever was waiting for me back inside. But to my dismay, I was called back in and sighed quietly to myself. 

"I should head back in," I excused myself, standing up to leave. But I lingered by the door, asking Wanda, "Have you eaten dinner yet?" She seemed puzzled with my question, and I continued speaking anyway. "I made a lot of food and have loads of leftovers I can't finish myself."

She seemed to understand what I was implying and shook her head. "That's okay, Y/N, thank you."

"Wanda, I insist," I said with a small smile. "It'll just go in the bin otherwise."

She was still reluctant. "Honestly, it's fine."

i wasn't taking no for an answer though. "I'll stop by in a bit to drop it off."

"Y/N, I–"

"See you then!" I exclaimed before heading back inside and leaving her no choice to deny it.

"There she is," Y/S/N called out to me when I returned. "You feel better?"

"Perfect," I said sarcastically.

She laughed. "C'mon, we're all sorry. Besides, Caleb and I have to go now, so we want to end on a good note."

Was I being too butt hurt? Probably.

"Right, sorry," I said, looking to them all, before saying, "Do you guys want any food to bring back with you?"

"You guys enjoy it," Caleb said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It was delicious though, Y/N. Thanks for the lovely evening."

"Anytime," I said with a tired smile, before leading them to the door and looking to my sister. "Let me know when you're home, yeah?"

She hummed in agreement, before pulling me into a tight hug. "Love you, Y/N."

"Love you, too," I returned with a playful eye roll.

After bidding them a goodbye, I was left alone with Teddy, who was surprisingly washing the dishes.

"This your way of apologising?" I joked, stopping by the sink.

He glanced at me with apologetic eyes. "Depends. Is it working?"

As I met his brown eyes, I thought back to how frustrating he was acting earlier. He must have been acting out in front of guests for some reason, but he wasn't always like that. Maybe I was overreacting. 

"I'll let you know when you're done," I retorted, making him smile with amusement.

As he did that, I worked on filling some containers with leftover dinner for Wanda, being sure to include a generous amount of everything.

"Who's that for?" Teddy asked, noticing what I was doing.

"Wanda, my new neighbour."

"Never heard of her."

I gave him a knowing look. "Hence the word 'new'."'

He returned the stare. "What I mean is, I've never seen her around."

I shrugged, finishing packing the containers and stacking them to carry. "She prefers to keep to herself."

"What, like a weirdo?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, Teddy. She's just private. Introverted, if you will."

"Sounds like a weirdo to me..."

I chose to ignore him as I left the flat and headed to Wanda's. She opened up quicker than usual, probably since she was expecting me this time.

"Bon appétit," I joked, before holding out the takeaway containers. "It's lamb roast with veg, potatoes, some gravy and bread."

"You really didn't have to," she said, though accepted the food. When she glanced down at it, she added, "This is a lot for one person."

I couldn't help the smile on my face. "Enough for second's. You'll have to let me know if you like it. It's my best recipe."

She snickered, eyes meeting mine. "I'm sure it's delicious... do you want to come in?"

Stepping to the side, she looked to me with what I think was a hopeful expression. I felt bad when I smiled sadly, shaking my head.

"I'd love to, Wanda, but I've actually still got my boyfriend over and I can't really, y'know..."

"No worries," she was quick to reassure. "It's– no, it's okay, honestly. I just thought I'd ask."

It was the first time she'd ever asked and meant it, which meant she was finally getting comfortable with me. I would have preferred to go in, but I couldn't just leave Teddy, nor kick him out.

"Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?" I asked hopefully. "If you want, that is. Because I want to. But I don't want to just invite myself over."

She seemed amused as she nodded. "Tomorrow sounds great. Maybe I can make you dinner, as a thank you for this food."

I grew a little excited at spending a bit more time with the quiet, reserved brunette. "I'd like that."

She nodded, lips pursed into a suppressed smile, and glanced at the food in her hand. "Great. Well... have a good evening, Y/N. And thank you again for the food."

"Good evening," I returned, subconsciously memorising the rare smile she gave me, before leaving her to it.

When I returned to my flat, all I could think about was the next night and getting to know Wanda.

[blu-joons]

Introducing Your Baby To The Fans On V Live ~ Kim Namjoon

His eyes lit up as soon as you carried your daughter into the living room, taking a seat on the chair that Namjoon had pulled up beside him for you to sit on. He leant forwards, adjusting the camera one final time before clicking on the button that sent him life, quickly watching as the viewer count grew.

“Hey everyone,” he smiled, waving to the camera. “I thought I’d come and introduce you all properly to the new member of our family we welcomed.”

“Say hello,” you giggled, lifting your daughter up to make sure she was in shot. She slept peacefully in your arms, unaware of the thousands of people that were getting their first glimpse of your daughter, filling the comments with plenty of lovely comments at how cute she was.

Your pregnancy had been something the two of you kept secret until you gave birth to your little girl. Namjoon was very wary and protective of something happening, knowing that the fans would understand his decision to put his family first.

“She’s met our friends, our families, and all of the boys, so I thought there was only one more important group of people that she needed to meet, the fans,” Namjoon smiled, unable to hide the smile on his face that had been there since the moment your daughter was born.

“It’s a bit rude of her to sleep through her introduction though.”

You watched closely as Namjoon moved his hand to brush over the top of her head, carefully watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. Each time he watched her he felt his heartbeat quicken, even if she was doing next to nothing back at him.

Namjoon turned back to the computer as questions from the fans started to come in. “Have you guys got a name?” He read out. “We’ve come up with a name, but we’re not going to announce it just yet until we’ve registered the birth.”

“That was one of the things we argued the most about whilst I was pregnant,” you added, nudging Namjoon’s arm lightly. “We both had very different names that we were desperate to use.”

“But luckily in the end we managed to find a compromise,” Namjoon clarified, resting his thumb against your daughter’s hand. “Now that she’s here, I think it’s a name that fits her perfectly, when you guys hear it, you’ll see exactly what I mean.”

You sat back whilst Namjoon read through a few more questions, happily telling the fans about your pregnancy in as much detail as possible. He was a proud father, something the fans very quickly picked up on.

“Someone’s asked about the baby shoes,” you pointed out to them, “are they here?”

Namjoon’s eyes lit up as he remembered the small shoes he’d purchased and shown on his live before. “They were one of the first things I put in the nursery to make sure they were passed on.”

“They took pride of place in the wardrobe,” you told them all, rolling your eyes at the excitement on his face. “I don’t know how long it will be until she wears them, but I’m sure Namjoon will share a photo with you all when he does.”

What the fans didn’t know was the box of other things he’d bought before you even found out you were pregnant for your future child. “As soon as her feet fit in those shoes, I’ll make sure she wears them every day.”

“They’re not exactly a colour that will go with every outfit,” you reminded Namjoon, but his shoulders only shrugged.

“I’ll make it work; don’t you worry about that.”

“I’m telling you now, I’m not letting you dress our daughter, that’s my job, definitely.”

The two of you were interrupted by the wriggle of your daughter as her eyes fluttered open. Namjoon quickly took her from you so that the fans could see her awake for the first time, making sure to point out all the little details on her face that he’d fallen in love with, especially the prominent dimples in her cheeks.

“She’s got Y/N’s eyes,” he informed them all, pouting down at her as she stared up at him. “But I like to think that she’s got my smile, the dimples are definitely like mine, they align perfectly with her mouth, just like mine do.”

“Hopefully, she’s got your brains, that’s the most important quality she needs from you.”

Namjoon’s head shook as a tiny yawn came from her, poking her tongue out as she did so. “I can’t get enough of her, I just stare at her constantly, even when she’s fast asleep. I can’t wait for you all to watch her grow up, I’ll document it all for you guys.”

Once your daughter settled again, this time in Namjoon’s arms, the two of you answered a few more questions. Having left them in the unknown for nine months, you knew there would be plenty of questions coming your way, which you were more than happy to answer. With her next feed impending, after an hour, Namjoon finally brought the live to an end.

“We’ve got parent duties to get back to, but we’ll try and give you guys another update soon.”

“I’m sure you’ll see plenty of photos before we come live again, all the boys are constantly picturing her,” you told them all.

“She can’t help being so photogenic,” Namjoon joked, “she must really take after her father to have such a face as adorable as she does.”

Your head shook as many of the fans quickly came to your defence, shutting Namjoon down. He couldn’t believe so many of his fans had turned against him, refusing to look at the smug smile that was plastered across your face.

“See you guys soon,” Namjoon smiled, moving the cursor to end the live stream, shutting down his laptop once he was sure that everything was cut off.

As soon as everything was closed down, he raised your daughter in the air, blowing several raspberries against her tummy to bring a wide smile to her face.

“The fans seemed to enjoy getting to meet her,” you smiled, “I was so worried they’d be upset that we kept the fact we were having a baby for so long. But her cute face must’ve convinced them they shouldn’t be mad at us.”

“There’s no way they could have been upset for long, if we keep doing lives, any fans who were disappointed will soon forget about it.”

“They’ll be nice for us to look back on too.”

His head slowly nodded, standing up from the computer to head into the kitchen to sort your daughter out for her next feed. “I never expected them to ask as many questions as they did.”

“The fans like to know every single detail of our lives, that won’t change, even with this little one,” he pointed out to you.

“There are certainly some details that we should keep to ourselves,” you reminded him, following behind him.

“You don’t need to worry, I’ll look after you both,” he smiled.

“I know you will.”

---

Masterlist

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

For One More Hour or One More Day

Dukeceit Week Day 6: Horror/Comedy

Remus and Janus work in IT, and Remus never fails to make Janus' life a bit more exciting than it should be. Janus wouldn't have it any other way.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 1416

Warnings: swearing, typical Remus-levels of implied sexual content. 

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[06032021 Network Node Down- 172.12.203.1 - Dee Why ]

Janus stared at the next ticket in his queue. He didn't even have to look at which tech wrote it. He just knew. He picked up his phone and dialed. 

“'Sup, DeeDee?" 

"Because they use ancient technology and refuse to upgrade, that's why." 

There was a beat of silence on the line. Janus didn't need to see him to know Remus was grinning like a maniac. 

“Oh, JD, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," Remus said finally. His voice was laced with barely-contained glee. 

“Uh-huh, sure," Janus replied dryly. He watched on his screen as an incoming call diverted from his in-use line. "Do you want to clarify for me, in excruciating detail, what, exactly, it is that broke this time? After all, if it's something I can fix from here, it would save the company an awful lot of money. And you know how I love saving this company money." 

“You don't feel like taking work calls either, huh?" 

“Ree, I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

-

[06142021 CRITICAL | Device failed Availability and Latency checks - Dispatch Requested]

Janus sat in his truck for a few minutes, cross-checking the address across his e-mail, Slack, and the ticket itself. And yeah, they all matched. This wasn’t a repeat of that time Remus had changed the address on the ticket from 96th St. to 69th St. as a joke. 

(Janus had almost gotten mugged. He was still a little salty about that one.)

But this time, all the addresses matched. The problem was, he was parked in front of a restaurant instead of the usual office building, and that just didn’t seem right. He opened up Slack on his phone. 

Janus D’lyre: Are you sure the address is right?

Remus Rey: Yeah, it’s right.

Janus D’lyre: It’s a restaurant. 

Remus Rey:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Janus D’lyre: Are you positive it’s right?

Remus Rey: I just write the tickets, Dee, I don’t do a background check. Just go in.

Janus sighed. He got out of his truck, hefted his tech bag over his shoulder, and went inside.

It was a nice restaurant. Very fancy, with a goddamn chandelier hanging over the front lobby. Field engineers weren’t required to dress in a suit and tie, but Janus did by habit- and he was glad he did, because he would feel like a horrible slob standing here in jeans and a polo.

“Can I help you?”

Janus looked over to the host, standing at the counter with a bright smile that only looked 52% faked.

“Yes,” Janus answered. “I’m here about the network issues?”

“Oh!” The host- his name tag read ‘Patton’- brightened up a bit. “Yeah! Remus is waiting for you, this way!”

“Remus is what?”

It was too late. Patton had already darted around the counter and off into the dining area. Janus sighed and, regretting every life choice leading up to this exact moment, followed.

Sure enough, Remus was waiting for him. Patton led him to a quieter area of the restaurant, where Remus was sitting at a table. Well, sitting was a generous way to phrase it, because in reality, he was tipped back on the rear two legs of the chair, combat boot-clad feet up on the table. He jumped up eagerly at the sight of Janus, and somehow managed not to fall backwards and crack his skull open. 

“Hey! You made it! Thanks, Pat!” 

“No problemo!” the host replied with a grin before heading back to the front counter. Janus briefly considered that he might be having a fever dream right now.

“Remus, what the fuck?” 

“Told you it was the right address!”

Janus glared. “That is not what I’m ‘what the fuck’-ing you about.”

“I mean, I’d prefer me fucking you-”

“Remus.”

“Well, you work so hard, DeeDee,” Remus said calmly, as if he wasn’t standing in the middle of the fanciest restaurant on this side of town, dressed in his usual tank-top and leather vest combo and probably mashing dirt into the plush red carpet, and definitely doing something that should get him fired. “I thought you could take a break, and we could have a nice dinner.”

No, he wasn’t doing something that should get him fired. He was doing something that should get them both fired. 

“You’re joking, right?”

“Kinda a lame joke.”

“Remus, you had me dispatched to a random address for a fake problem, to have dinner with you on company time?”

“‘Course not, who do you think I am?”

Janus did not dignify that with an answer. He turned to walk away.

“Jannie, wait!” Remus darted around the table to get in front of him. Janus stopped, and glared. “This is Roman’s restaurant! It’s not a random address, he’s an actual client.”

Janus’ glare lessened. Ok, sure, they did have some smaller commercial clients. And sure, Remus had mentioned his brother’s restaurant was using them as tech support now after a bad experience with a different company. But- “It’s still a fake problem, Remus.”

A shit-eating grin spread across Remus’ face. “Nah. I unplugged the router.”

Janus snorted in a totally dignified manner. “You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“...Well, I suppose… I’d better investigate the issue. Couldn’t be solved remotely, hardware problem and all.”

Remus held out a hand. Janus took it, and let Remus lead him back to the table.

“Great, cause I already ordered!”

-

[06192021 Switch is problematic. Unable to get into the switch || Serial No. 111-0203-2018]

Janus very calmly cleared the ticket, set his work phone to away, pulled out his personal phone, and sent Remus a text. 

Jannie-D: I know you’re upset I didn’t let you fuck me last night. Get over it. 

Remster: i will not 

- 

Virgil Caligo: yo are u and remus like good?

Janus D’lyre: We had a small argument last night. Why?

Virgil Caligo: [image attached]

Janus sighed. Virgil had sent him a screenshot of a ticket update Remus had just posted.

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘The device is not only unresponsive to simple ping requests, but is being kind of a jerk about it. 100% package loss, a tragedy. Device was confirmed to be connected to a working power source, but they all say that, so who can really be sure. Dispatch requested, please confirm maintenance window. Actually showing up would be great, too.’

Janus hastily typed a message to Virgil. 

Janus D’lyre: Did you take that one?

Virgil Caligo: ya. logan didnt see dw

Janus D’lyre: Thanks. You can transfer it to me, I’ll take care of it. 

Janus leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples. What a comedy of errors this day had been. It was the last time he’d forget he and Remus had a date night planned, that’s for sure. 

- 

Remus sighed when a priority ticket popped up in his queue. He was having a grand time ignoring his other queues in favor of sculpting a rather elaborate dick out of the green Play-Doh he kept at his desk, but he really did not feel like getting bitched out by Logan for missing a priority ticket. Grumbling to himself, he stuffed the Play-Doh back into its tub and opened the ticket. 

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘Likely a hardware bug. Possible remote fix with reset and reconfigure. Device information missing from online records. Please check file and update record.’ 

Fuck. Remus hated pulling files. What a pain. He trudged his way upstairs to the records room, which was always dark and depressing because nobody ever went there because who the fuck used physical paper in 2021?

But when he unlocked the door and pushed it open, the light was on. And every surface was covered in flowers.

“What the fuck?” Remus asked the flowers. They didn’t answer. But, at the small desk near the door, there was a stack of green boxes from his favorite bakery- and on top of that, he saw an envelope with his name on it. Eagerly, Remus tore open the envelope. 

Inside, he found a single sheet of Janus’ fancy stationery paper, the kind with the little holographic snakes along the edge that he only ever used for special occasions. And on that paper, one single sentence, penned in Janus’ elegant, flourishy handwriting: Ok, you can fuck me tonight.

- - -

[06292021 Ticket #00679 Update.] ‘I take it back, the device is no longer being a jerk, and I love the device very much.’ 

[esmealux]

Hi there! For the two-part drabble, may I request Deckerstar in situation 13 (someone does something stupid) with sentence 6 ("Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.") Thank you, and I've really really been enjoying your the updates on your Planning a Hell of a Wedding fic!

Hey! It took me two months (including more than one month of writing) but I've now finally finished your prompt. Another anon had requested 25 (being somewhere you're not supposed to) + 6 and dear @my-crazy-awesome-sox had requested 26 (a very cheesy date) + 6, so I've merged all your prompts into one 7K+ long 'drabble'. Hope you don't mind!

And I'm glad you like the updates on PHW! I'll try to write some more now that I've finished this.

Hope you like this!

Also, an immense special thanks to @my-crazy-awesome-sox for helping me with this fic. She truly has been a godsend, and a lot of the wording (especially in the later parts) is kindly and almost directly borrowed from her mind. Thank you again, babe!

Also thanks to @lightbringer-666 for assisting me with some French. If all the French isn't perfect, it's because I also googled my way to a lot of it. Apologies in advance (and please do let me know if there's anything I should change!)

Someone does something stupid + being somehwere you're not supposed to + a very cheesy date + 'Do I love you? Yes. Do I like you? That's still up for debate.'

Rated M. Post 5B - contains spoilers!

Read on AO3 (includes list with English translations)

It’s ridiculous, really. The butterflies fluttering in her stomach like she’s a schoolgirl waiting for her prom date. It’s not even their first date. It’s not even their second. The thing is, between becoming God and Consultant, revising a few laws of the cosmos, fixing some bugs in humanity, bringing Dan to Heaven, and going to therapy, she and Lucifer haven’t had much time for, well, each other. At least not in ways that didn’t involve discussions about the redesign of the afterworld and how to sate world hunger. So yes, she is a little giddy with excitement at the thought of having a whole evening to themselves—no celestial craziness. Just the two of them and a bottle of the restaurant’s finest.

If Lucifer would just show up.

She checks her phone. 06:14. Unlike last time she anxiously waited for him in a restaurant, there’s a text.

Running a bit late. Please forgive me. Can’t wait to see you ❤

And one more.

Sorry. Can’t wait to see you naked*

Chloe shakes her head, a stupid smile spreading across her face. She resists typing back a flirty reply—he’ll be with her in a minute, and she is nota schoolgirl—and puts her phone back in her clutch. Hands trembling a little, she smooths out invisible creases in the dress he’s bought her. It’s short and tight, of course, but perfectly so. Reaching mid-thigh, with a small slit revealing a bit more of her left thigh. Black, unsurprisingly; he still hasn’t gotten over how delectable she looked in the LBD she wore on their last ‘date’. And this one makes her legs look even longer, which is undoubtedly the primary reason Lucifer picked it. Still, it isn’t skimpy. He could have opted for a deep neckline and cold shoulders—she almost expected him to when he said he’d bought her a dress—but he didn’t. Instead, the short and skin-tight skirt is perfectly balanced with a high neck and long bell sleeves that are cut open just above her joints, making the soft fabric flow around her bare underarms. She likes it—would probably have bought it herself if it weren’t crazy expensive. Likes how it makes her feel both sexy and classy and most of all comfortable, likes that he knows her so well.

She fidgets with her earring and traces the rim of her empty wine glass with her fingertip, watching people as much as she can from their semi-private corner. She spots an Oscar-winning film director, a retired NFL player, that pop star Lucifer pretends to hate, and just how expensive isthis place?

She’s immediately distracted by the shift in the air and the sound of Italian loafers approaching her.

‘My me, Detective!’

His brown eyes roam her figure as she stands to kiss him. Their lips meet in a soft peck that could easily have turned into more if Lucifer hadn’t pulled away to look her up and down.

‘You look like a goddess.’

Chloe snorts and chuckles, not yet used to the title he insists is hers if she’ll have it. She puts a hand on his chest, gazing up at him with a smile.

‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’

He hums and leans in for another kiss, but something comes between them this time. They both look down—at a dozen red roses.

‘Those for me?’ she asks, warmth spreading in her chest.

Lucifer hands her the bouquet with a nod and that soft smile she loves more than anything. He pulls out her chair, a gentle hand on her shoulder as she sits down, and sits down himself.

There’s a card nestled between the velvet petals: ‘For the Detective & Consultant’, her old and new moniker scribbled side by side in his annoyingly elegant handwriting. The latter nickname, however, is written in smaller, cramped letters—an afterthought. She smiles.

She turns the card, expecting to find a dirty, eye-roll-deserving comment on the back. But there’s no lewd joke or naughty promise.

It simply says, ‘I love you.’

Her heart swells, filling her chest till it aches. It’s all so new still. Not the love between them, but how it’s uninhibited now. It’s not like they don’t have their obstacles—just yesterday they had a fight—but there’s no doubt anymore, no voices telling them some dreams simply cannot be. They might have a whole universe to deal with, but for the first time ever, things between them are easy. No words are left unsaid. No feelings are squashed. No time is wasted. Every day is spent wrapped in each other’s love. Finally.

‘I love you too,’ she tells him, and he lights up, amazed. Confident. Their hands find each other on the table, fingers intertwining.

A waiter comes by with two menu cards and a vase for the flowers. Chloe reads through the menu carefully, pretending to know what kind of food hides behind the fancy French names. Lucifer sees right through her, sighs, and orders some hors d’œuvres, two of something she couldn’t pronounce if she tried, and a bottle of red.

‘So, were you stuck in traffic, or…?’ Chloe asks him with a glint in her eye as the waiter pours her a generous glass of wine. The celestial being with the supernatural metabolism can drive home.

The being in question looks confused for a moment before he answers, ‘Ah, no. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ For a brief second, he looks at her as if he’s apologising for more than tonight, but she strokes his knuckles and smiles at him, you’re here now, and he moves on to explain himself. ‘I just couldn’t find this bloody suit. Only when I’d ransacked the house did I realise it was still at the penthouse, so I had to make a detour.’

He is a little excused; so many things are impossible to find right now, with more or less unpacked boxes spread out between her apartment, Lux, and their new home. In hindsight, moving in together while taking over the almighty family business probably wasn’t the best idea, but they’ll get settled soon enough. Besides, right now, what’s important is that Lucifer was late because of a wardrobe crisis, and she will not let that slide.

‘You couldn’t just wear one of your three hundred other suits?’

A flicker of hurt and sheepishness flashes across Lucifer’s face.

‘Well, this one is special.’

Chloe takes in his suit: the navy jacket, the matching waistcoat, the royal blue shirt.

‘Oh.’

He smirks at her as heat creeps up her cheeks (so much for not being a schoolgirl).

‘You remember?’

She does. Of course, she does. She remembers vividly—how shocked he’d been at first, how new and soft his lips had felt against hers. How they’d held onto each other until the sun was setting and she really did have to go home and feed Maze and Trixie.

She also remembers how she, later, behind closed lids, had ripped off the shirt and waistcoat in desperate need. How it’d earned her a husky chuckle and a breathy ‘D’tective!’, and the sinful Heaven that was his hot and open mouth.

‘You okay, darling?’ Lucifer looks at her, his expression somewhere between concerned and amused. His thumb brushes the back of her hand.

Chloe takes a sip of wine and clears her throat. Adjusts her necklace.

‘Yeah, just, you know. Reminiscing.’

He studies her flushed face for a second before his curious smile spreads into a full-blown Cheshire grin.

‘You had a wet dream about me, didn’t you?! After our first kiss?’

Chloe glares at him. ‘Say it a little louder for the people in the back, will ya?’ He opens his mouth, and she immediately feels the need to clarify, ‘Do not say it a little louder for the people in the back.’

His smile doesn’t falter. ‘I’m just ecstatic to know our first kiss left you all hot and bothered. I mean, not that I’m surprised.’ He brings his wine glass to his lips and lets go of her hand to gesture down himself.

Chloe rolls her eyes. ‘Yeah, like you didn’t go home and wanked yourself blind that night.’

He laughs, surprised by her bluntness, and shamelessly answers, ‘Why, of course I did. That night, other nights. Before and after that kiss. This morning. You serve as quite the spank bank, my dear.’

She definitely doesn’t blush at that. But she does glance down at his waistcoat, at the soft skin and hard muscles she knows hide beneath it. She gives him a slow and dirty smirk, appreciative.

‘You too, baby.’

Lucifer raises an eyebrow, his eyes darkening. Much to Chloe’s satisfaction, his neck and cheeks redden a little. Then he gives her a lopsided grin, smug and impressed.

‘Pray tell, Detective.’ His eyes glide down her face, her chest, her stomach, and slowly back up again.

In another time, she would have given him a stern look and told him it was none of his business, but she doesn’t. She also doesn’t tell him about lonely nights and long showers and crying his name into her pillow when they were still just friends. Instead, she leans across the table and half-whispers—

‘If you behave yourself tonight, I might show you.’

He gulps. Squirms a little in his seat, and—when he’s regained his composure and quite indiscreetly adjusted himself under the table—leans forward till there’s only mere inches between their faces.

‘Is that a promise?’ His voice is low and husky, his breath hot against her face. His eyes drop to her lips.

‘Pardon, monsieur, mais l’entrée est prête.’

They lean back in their seats and turn to the poor, young waiter, who’s balancing two seemingly heavy plates, a carafe of water, and a basket of crusty bread in his arms.

‘Lovely!’ Lucifer’s eyes follow the food as the waiter puts it down in front of them. ‘Merci beaucoup, Olivier.’

Olivier smiles at Lucifer, shy but with a look in his eyes Chloe knows all too well. She doesn’t blame him.

‘Ça va?’ Lucifer asks, his voice lined with genuine fondness.

Olivier nods. ‘Oui, ça va. Et toi?’

Lucifer looks to Chloe, beaming. He takes her hand on the table and interlocks their fingers again.

‘Tout va très bien,’ he answers, looking back up at Olivier with a dazzling smile.

Olivier’s eyes drop to their hands and, probably, to the ring, white and pearlescent, on Chloe’s third finger. His lips tug up at the corner.

‘Je peux voir ça. Félicitations!’ Before Lucifer can respond to that, whatever it means, Olivier gestures towards their food. ‘Et bon appétit.’

Lucifer replies with a friendly ‘merci’ and calls out something like ‘Salue ton père de ma part!’ as Olivier walks off.

Chloe stares at Lucifer, twirling the smashed bullet around her neck between her fingers.

‘What?’ he asks, curious.

She tilts her head, smiling. ‘French suits you.’

He smiles back, lasciviously. ‘Yeah?’

‘Mm-hm.’

The look he gives her leaves no doubt that, sooner or later, he’ll be whispering foreign phrases against her skin.

But right now, they have other appetites to sate. They dig into the first course, and the (assumedly) insanely high prices suddenly make sense, because it is frigging good. The main course is even more delicious—divine, actually, to the point where Chloe has to ask Lucifer if he accidentally spiked the food with a blessing or two. He assures her it’s all Olivier’s father, no holiness involved, apart from Chef Beaumont’s heavenly cœeur de filet de bœuf. Chloe moans in agreement, savouring every bite.

He watches her with a smile, jokingly apologising for not serving her grilled cheese, and she makes a bad joke about this date being cheesy enough as it is. Because it is cheesy. Him buying her a dress, bringing her red roses, the love note, the candlelit restaurant, the French food, not to mention the suit. It’s like a rom-com parody.

But it’s also perfect. It’s everything she’s longed for, an over-the-top romantic date night with her- with her partner. A date that isn’t cut short by a horny stewardess (may she rest in peace) or a failed attempt at exorcism; where Lucifer actually shows up and isn’t just trying to outdo another man; where Chloe isn’t trying to make him ‘do something good for a change’; and their parents aren’t tagging along on a headache-inducing surprise double date that is also a sting in disguise.

So, in some ways, it is kinda their first date.

And it’s a really, really nice date.

They laugh—they laugh so much. More than they’ve done in the past few months combined. Or so it feels, at least.

They laugh, and they talk. About movies they cried to, favourite drinks, and how they’re gonna paint the living room. About the summers spent under the plum tree in Nana’s garden, and all the pranks pulled in the gilded meadows of Heaven. About chasing Amenadiel through the clouds, and how Chloe always wanted a sibling. About her short-lived Hollywood experience and that one time she may have gotten a little high at a Backstreet Boys concert. (He seems impressed by that, her ‘abhorrent’ taste in music aside.) They exchange secrets they never told anyone, stories of bad kisses—Jed used too much tongue; Will was always better with words—and tales from drunken nights out. They reminisce on the first time they met—how annoying she’d found him, how compelling he’d found her—and the many, many cases, some really weird, that first encounter led to.

They talk about Dan.

About missing him, even though he’s making waffles with Charlotte now.

About Trixie, and how therapy seems to be helping her, too. How she still sometimes breaks down crying, but no longer crawls into their bed in the middle of the night, shaking and gasping for air. How she’d laughed the other day, and it’d made them both cry. How incredibly strong she is, that little urchin.

They talk about going to Paris one day, all three of them—the French do make excellent chocolate cakes—or maybe somewhere else she wants to see, once everything is calmer. They talk about some of the prayers Lucifer has been hearing, about faith and free will, what they miss about solving crimes together, what they don’t miss, and how they’re still very much partners, even more so now—in every corner of life.

They talk till their cheeks hurt from smiling and Chloe’s half-drunk on expensive Burgundy. Lucifer asks for the cheque, their food long gone, and pays with cash, making sure to leave a tip possibly the size of Olivier’s monthly salary.

They leave the restaurant giggling about a stupid joke Lucifer makes, his hand splayed out on the small of her back. Her own hand is placed much lower than what is decent for such a fancy place like this, practically cupping his ass, but she’s tipsy enough not to care, and he doesn’t seem to mind the attention. It’s his own fault, anyway, for having his pants tailored to hug his butt like this.

Naturally, Lucifer drives. He doesn’t hold back his comments on how slow and boring her car is, but at least he stays somewhere close to the speed limit. She wishes he’d also wear a seatbelt, and keep both hands on the wheel, but his palm is nice and warm on her thigh, and she trusts he’ll get them home safely. She leans back in her seat, her head comfortably buzzing from wine and him, and watches the blurry city lights through the window. He’s turned down 2ndStreet.

‘Where are we going?’ She looks over at him, curious.

He smiles in the shadows, his fingers stroking the skin left exposed by the slit in her dress. His touch leaves hot, tingling paths on her thigh.

‘I thought we’d go for a second desert.’

Chloe is beyond full, her dress stretched over her now slightly rounder belly, and she can think of other things she’d rather do (things that include pinning Lucifer to their bed and making him groan and beg and laugh), but she’ll never say no to a freshly brewed latte and watching Lucifer obscenely enjoy some Sicilian pastry.

She turns up the radio, fumbling a bit, and closes her eyes with a smile, more content than she’s been in… a long time. His hand stays on her thigh as they move through the night, fingers tapping to the beat of the songs against her skin, creeping higher, teasing, just enough to make her breath hitch, but nothing more, and then back down again. Maybe they’ll just take that latte to-go.

The car comes to a final halt, and first then does Chloe realise they haven’t stopped outside the late-night café and bakery that’s opened down on Spring Street.

‘Lucifer, what’—she looks around, double-checking—‘what are we doing at the back entrance to the precinct? You said we were getting desert.’

He leans across the centre console, fingers spreading on her thigh, and brings their faces so close their noses touch. Chloe swallows.

‘We are,’ he assures her with a wolfish grin, his gaze lingering hungrily on her, and she could jump him right then and there. But he takes his hand off her body and clicks her seatbelt free, pulls the key out of the ignition and exits the car. He strides to her side and opens the door for her, gentlemanly as ever, and she watches him with narrowed eyes as she takes his hand and steps out, sceptical even in her cloud of lust and inebriation.

He heads directly for the back entrance and opens the black iron door with ease, rudely ignoring the state-of-the-art security locks. A part of her knows she should stop him right there and give him a stern talking-to about respecting human laws—he still can’t do whatever the hell he likes just because he’s God now. But another part, the part of her who helped him empty two bottles of French wine, really wants to step over that threshold, to intertwine their fingers and go on a late-night adventure. And that part of her must overpower the other, because she lets him snake his arm around her waist and lead her through the door and inside the familiar building.

She senses him grinning by her side, his fingers curling around her hip in a deliciously tight grip that only stokes the heat pooling low in her belly. He takes her down the corridor, around the corner, and then they’re there, in the middle of the precinct. Everything is covered in darkness, the wide, open space only illuminated by a never-resting info screen and the purplish glow from the vending machine. Still, she can make out the shape of their desk, the door to Ella’s lab, the interrogation room. The fridge in the breakroom still hums obnoxiously, and the air smells like strong coffee and sugary glaze—or maybe that’s just a phantom. Either way, it all tugs at her heart, beckons her down memory lane, and she lets herself be pulled. Through the good, the bad, and the crazy.

Lucifer is quiet beside her, probably lost in nostalgia himself, or maybe just letting her have this moment. But not for long. With titillating eagerness and a devilish smirk, he wraps his fingers around her wrist and pulls her by the hand—towards the evidence closet.

He presses her up against the door, his body hot and hard against hers, and pins her hand against the cold glass of the frosted window. His dark eyes sparkle with mischievous excitement.

‘There’s something we never got to try.’

Her pulse quickens, blood humming loud and hot.

‘Lucifer, we can’t.’ She tries to sound firm around her suddenly heavy breaths and dry throat, but he doesn’t seem discouraged in the least.

He leans in, closer, his smirking lips brush against her ear. ‘Can’t we, now?’

And as if he hadn’t done enough already, he takes her earlobe between his teeth and bites it.

Chloe smothers a gasp.

‘We shouldn’t.’ She puts her hand on his chest and pushes her head against his, nudging him away from her neck so she can thinkfor a second. He reluctantly obeys and settles for placing his hands on her sides, dangerously high, thumbs almost stroking the underside of her breasts. She pushes his hands down to her waist. ‘We shouldn’t have sex in Evidence—shouldn’t have broken into the precinct in the first place. I mean, do you want us to get arrested?’

He only laughs at that, of course. ‘I’m God, darling. I won’t get arrested.’

Chloe rolls her eyes. He would probably charm his way out of it if they were caught, God or not—but that doesn’t make any of this okay. She’s about to tell him as much when he adds-

‘But if you wanted to cuff me and tell me what to do, resisting would be the last thing on my mind. In fact, I’m sure we can find some cuffs lying about-’

‘Lucifer, no.’

Her tone is sharper than she’d intended. He pulls back a little, studying her face. His eyes flicker to her parted lips, her flushed, heaving chest, and then back to her determined gaze. His brows furrow.

‘Do you really not want to do this?’ His voice is soft, serious.

They stare at each other, hot breaths mingling. He’s still pressed up against her, a six-foot-three wall of muscle and love, and his scent—spicy cologne and smoke—floods her head like ambrosia, a dizzying fog of him. Her skin burns beneath his palms, his touch sending embers through the expensive fabric and down, flames licking at her inner thighs. Her heartbeat thumps in her ears.

‘We don’t even work here anymore,’ she rasps, deflecting his question. It’s a weak excuse, but she is fraying at the edges.

A salacious smile forms on Lucifer’s face. ‘We’ll just pretend we do.’

He takes a step back, putting a more ‘professional’ distance between them, adjusts his lapels and attempts at a neutral expression. ‘You wanted to show me something in Evidence, Detective?’

And there’s that word again, want—because she still hasn’t answered his question and her consent means more to him than anything. She loves him for that, she really does, but right now, it’s not that simple. She wants, every cell in her body wants, wants him to shove her into that closet and take her apart. Has wanted it for so long, thought about it for years—at her desk, in the shower, while sitting next to him during interrogations. Thought about it in the self-same evidence closet, as she was pressed up against the wall by someone else. Imagined tugging at his hair, feeling him between her legs—even had to swallow his name. She still thinks about it, thought about it the other night, briefly, wistfully, while making a cup of tea. Thought about how much fun they could have had, sneaking off to secret corners of the precinct like two horny teenagers—if it hadn’t been for, well, mostly Michael, and all the chaos he’d released upon their lives.

In fact, it’s only fair they have at least one reckless, semi-public rendezvous. Just one. To make up for the honeymoon phase they never really had. With all the hurt and heartbreak they’ve had to go through, alone and together, they deserve to have one night of stupid fun.

On the other hand, and this is why it’s not that simple, it’s a bad idea. It’s a really bad idea. And also, pretty illegal. If she asked him to, if she said no now, he would take her home and push her up against the nearest surface, bury himself in her faster than any of them could get their clothes off, bring her to ecstasy-

But it’s not the same. It just isn’t.

With as much innocence she can muster, she looks up at his anticipatory face and puts her hand on the doorknob. The cold steel is a soothing balm against her burning skin.

‘I do want to show you something in Evidence.’

He lights up like it’s a declaration of love, all unrestrained enthusiasm.

‘After you, darling.’

Their lips crash against each other before the door is even closed. He pushes her backwards in the semi-darkness, between shelves and boxes, hands low on her hips. His fingers dig softly into her ass as they stumble towards a sliver of wall together, panting and laughing against each other’s mouths. He doesn’t break contact with her lips as he quickly sheds his jacket on the way and throws it over his shoulder, for the moment uncaring of dirt and creases. Then her back hits the wall with a thunk and she’s instantly struck by déjà vu, until Lucifer grabs her thigh inside the slit of her dress, and the unwelcome memory quickly evaporates in the heat of their clashing bodies as he wraps her bare leg around his waist and pins her to the wall with the hard press of his hips. Their unison groans fill the cramped space.

‘We shouldn’t be here,’ she murmurs breathlessly against his lips before opening her mouth to let his tongue back in. He tastes like wine and crème brûlée.

He hums in disagreement. ‘We should always be here, Detective.’ With the hand still on her ass, he pushes their bodies impossibly closer together and rocks against her. She moans, despite herself.

‘We- I-‘ Chloe stammers, leaning her head back as he kisses his way down her neck, her mind and body pulling in different directions. ‘This is- why am I letting you get away with this?’

She feels him smirk against her throat. His hand slowly glides up her inner thigh—her pulse quickening with every inch—until his thumb brushes past damp fabric.

‘Because you like me.’ His beard rasps against her hot skin in the crook of her neck, a contrast to his soft lips placing slow, open-mouthed kisses from her jaw to her collar. ‘Because you love me.’

Chloe scoffs.

‘Do I love you?’ she questions, her breathing erratic, her eyes turned to the ceiling as he sucks a mark onto her neck. With the hand that is still between her legs, he pushes her underwear to the side and rubs against her, nice and slow. ‘Yes.’ Her gasped answer has a proud, almost victorious chuckle rumbling from his chest.

‘But do I like you?’—she bites her lip and stifles another moan as his fingers press just right—‘That’s still up for debate.’

He breaks off the assault on her neck and looks up at her, eyes black with desire.

‘Allow me to try and tip the scales, then.’

She’s bereaved of his fingers as his hand moves to the edge of her underwear, pulling it down as he sinks to his knees. She almost stumbles when he slips it over her feet, but he grabs her leg, steadying her, and helps her out of her stilettos. Once she’s barefoot, his warm palms slide up the side of her legs, pushes the hem of her dress up a few inches, and then his mouth is on her.

He licks her, slowly, tenderly. She reaches down to pull at his hair, commanding him to give her more, to take more, and he does. He starts feasting on her, all tongue and lips and-

‘God, yes.’

He chuckles smugly into her core. ‘I do love it when you moan my name, darling.’ Eyes fixed on hers, he gives her a nice, long lick before he dives back in. He kisses her clit, sucks it, circles it, laps at her like he can’t get enough, and she’s reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess. She bucks against his face, needing more, and he does that thing that she likes, tongue flicking her clit, warm and wet, as he pushes a finger inside her.

Her eyes clench shut, her head falls back against the wall. She doesn’t bother holding back her groan this time.

Lucifer hums against her, low and greedy, taking as much as he can, before he pulls away with ragged breaths. ‘Ma déesse, que tu as bon gout.’

The meaning is forever lost on her, but his hungry tone, the way his tongue wraps smoothly around the French syllables, the words dripping like sin from his glistening lips, sends warm shivers down her spine.

He slows down his pace inside her, places kisses on her lower belly, seeks her ticklish spots and the ones that make her breath hitch, and then trails down to her hips, studying her sharp bone with his lips and his teeth, before moving down to her thigh, stubble prickling her tender skin. As if he’s got all the time in the world, he lets his mouth travel to the insides of her legs, already spread for him, and kisses a path up her inner thighs, getting closer and closer to where she aches with need,but never quite there. His finger, still moving slowly—too slowly—curls a bit, reaches that spot deep inside her that usually makes her see stars, but he pulls back before she’s even done gasping.

‘Lucifer,’ she breathes, a threat and a plea.

He places one last kiss to her sensitive thigh, nuzzles his nose against her heat, before his tongue finally finds her clit again and his finger starts pumping inside her, fast and hard. Then faster, harder, and, fuck, deeper.

‘Baby,’ she begs him to continue, fire spreading through her body, from her curling toes to her already heated cheeks.

He slows down for a second, and she reaches down to scratch at his scalp in frustration but quickly forgives him when he adds another finger and resumes his perfect pace, thrusting up in her to the beat of her racing heart.

‘Je veux te faire jouir.’ His thumb replaces his tongue as he looks up at her, eyes sparkling with lust and determination, but also patience. Like he could do this for hours, the whole night, as long as she falls apart around his tongue and fingers in the end.

He doesn’t need all night, though. She’s close, so close, can feel the beginning of that blissful high burning in her lower belly, between her thighs, where his mouth licks and nibbles and sucks. A building warmth pumping through her veins. She grabs at his hair, wraps her leg around his shoulder and pushes his face closer into her heat, needing that last-

‘Fuck, right there,’ she gasps. Right there right there right there.

He smirks against her, always eager to please, and does as she says. As she’s teetering on the edge, he curls both fingers inside her, goes impossibly deeper, and reaches the same spot as before, except this time, he doesn’t stop, and she comes with a shudder and a gasped ‘fuck!’ as he licks her through it.

‘Tu es tellement belle, ma chérie,’ he tells her, voice soft with awe as she comes down from her high and opens her eyes. She understands enough of the words to smile down at him, at his dishevelled hair, his swollen lips, and warm, chocolatey eyes.

‘You too, baby.’

She still hasn’t caught her breath when he, after wiping his mouth on her thigh, slowly rises from his feet and starts making his way up her body. His fingers skate lightly up her dress, his knuckles brushing against her rising and falling ribs as his hands sneak higher and higher, closer and closer. With a feather-light touch, he starts tracing the curves of her breasts, deliberately avoiding her aching nipples. He teases her with his fingers, kisses her neck, lips trailing, hot and slow, up to her jaw and the sensitive spot behind her earlobe.

‘J’ai envie de toi,’ he says into her ear, his voice rough with want and determination.

Chloe can’t take it anymore. She fists his waistcoast in one hand and grabs him by the hair with the other to pull him up into a hard kiss. He tries to stay in control, to hold back his obvious desire for just a little longer, but he quickly loses the battle and lets a bit of hunger take over. They pour equal heat into the kiss, tongues pressing and teeth clashing as their mouths slide against each other. She threads her fingers through his curls, he bites her lip, and they both groan and gasp into the kiss.

Chloe’s the one to pull away, needing air sooner than him. They’re looking into each other’s eyes, both panting, when he says it again, ‘J’ai envie de toi.’ This time, breathy desperation shines through his voice. ‘Je veux être en toi.’

And then they’re kissing again and both of them are working at his belt and pants in a flurry of hands until he’s finally inside her with one quick thrust. He fills her to the hilt, deliciously stretching her inner muscles, warm and hard. For a moment, they’re both so overcome they can only pause and breathe, Lucifer’s forehead cradled in the crook of her shoulder as her hand gently strokes the short hairs on the back of his neck.

He pulls back to look deeply into her eyes, and starts off slow. Not teasing, just tender. He kisses her cheeks and neck, every inch of skin he can reach with his lips, and whispers sweet nothings against her skin. She can’t know for sure, of course, because it’s still in French, and she doesn’t catch all of it, the sounds alien and muffled—‘t’es incroyable’, she hears, ‘j’suis fou amoureux de toi’—but something about his tone tells her it’s not as dirty as whatever he was saying before. Still, it makes her just as wet, the words tingling across her skin.

He picks up the pace, wraps her legs tighter around him, and pushes her harder against the wall. His hand grasps her breast roughly, seeking purchase, then rhythmically strokes over her nipple in apology, and she moans her relief. The shelves on either side of them hit the wall with a consistent thump, thump, thump as he thrusts up into her, fucks her, their harsh pants mingling in the small space between their parted lips. Chloe claws at Lucifer’s shoulders and back, hands scrambling for something to hold onto. Even through the two layers of fabric, she can feel his warmth and muscles, and a sudden urge bubbles up within her. With desperate fingers, she starts undoing the buttons on his shirt, but it takes too long—she needs him—so she rips open both shirt and waistcoat and frantically pushes them off his shoulders. He pins her against the wall with a hard thrust, letting go of her thigh and breast to shake the material onto the floor, and Chloe scratches at his finally bare back and shoulders, nails digging into slick, freckled flesh. She arches back into the wall and bares her neck for him to nip and kiss.

‘Fuck, Lucifer!’ she whines. ‘Oh, God, baby, fuckyes!’

He growls at the sound of her noises and bites her ear.

‘J’adore baiser avec toi.’ One hand slides down to her ass, holding her and pushing her dress higher up as the other bites into the now bare skin at her waist. The sharp touch sends a jolt down to her throbbing clit, making her clench tighter around him. ‘J’adore ton corps. T’es vraiment une déesse.’ The last word is a groan against her lips as he kisses her.

It’s wet, messy, and so delicious they both grasp tightly onto each other’s mouths with lips, tongues and teeth, neither of them wanting to ever let go.

‘Je veux t’embrasser,’ Lucifer pants when they break apart for a second, his gaze fixed on her mouth as their lungs fight for air. His dark eyes soften when they look into hers. ‘Chaque jour de ma vie,’ he adds reverently as he leans in. ‘Pour toujours.’ And then he kisses her again, like he wants it to last for all eternity.

His thrusts turn slower and deeper as they kiss, harder, until kissing becomes panting into each other’s mouths and Chloe’s head falls back in sheer pleasure. He tightens his grip on her ass and runs the hand on her waist up her side, brushing his thumb over her nipple as he passes her breast, up her neck, and cups the side of her face. She lets their eyes meet, and the way he’s looking at her, with absolute awe and gratitude, makes her heart flutter and her hips buck against his bare stomach. Her hands slide from where they’ve been clutching his mess of a hair to his back, trailing down to where he’s most sensitive. She places her palms on either side of his spine and presses lightly, carefully.

‘Tu me-’ he cuts off with a gasp when her nails skim over his hidden wings, ‘Tu me rends- fucking hell, Chloe.’

She keens at the guttural sound of her name. He leans his forehead against hers with a grunt, the slight change in angle making his rhythm falter, one hand slamming against the wall next to her. She watches the rest of his control slip through glazed eyes. She did this to him. She rendered God himself lost to his own bliss. That knowledge itself is nearly enough to push her over the edge.

‘Close,’ she breathes.

He grabs both her thighs with strong hands and presses her flush up against the wall, going impossibly deeper inside her. She hisses through her teeth and sputters all kinds of incoherent, unholy prayers into the sweltering air between them. Every hard thrust pushes her closer to ecstasy.

‘You make me so happy,’ Lucifer whispers, sounding so wrecked and raw her eyes clench shut. ‘I want- I hope- fuck- I hope I make you, nnf, just as happy.’

‘You do, baby. You make me so- so-’

Heat floods her veins as she comes, the sweet tension snapping all at once. She cries out, arches her back, and moans long and low as he continues to fuck her through it. His thrusts are quick and inelegant, his arms and thighs trembling, and she knows he’s close. She intentionally clenches around him, whispers his name, and then he too is tumbling over the edge, the only type of falling she ever wants him to feel again.

They smile at each other as they try to catch their breaths, sweaty foreheads still pressed together.

‘I love you,’ he says. ‘So much.’

She hums with happiness, her heart pleasantly aching at the sound of the words he couldn’t say the last time they were here.

‘I love you too, babe.’ She reaches up to lazily nuzzle the hairs at the nape of his neck, still smiling.

‘Maybe you even like me?’

She lets out a breathy chuckle and slides down the wall to land on her bare feet. Her legs are… wobbly, to say the least. Lucifer smirks at her.

‘We’ll see about that.’ She smoothes out her dress as he tucks himself back into his pants and fastens his belt. ‘If anyone ever finds out about this, your chances are pretty bad, buddy.’

She collects his clothes from the floor and helps him into his shirt. Two buttons are missing, lost to the force of her hasty ripping. It gives her an odd sense of satisfaction, the fact that the shirt he wore when they first kissed—the shirt she dreamt of tearing off his body—now is marked by their little escapade. (At least until he gets his tailor to fix it.)

‘Well, I’ll just have to keep trying to convince you then, won’t I?’ He licks his lips and lifts his eyebrows as he offers her a hand to help her up from the floor once she’s put her shoes back on. Chloe bites her cheek so as to not smile at his suggestion and intertwines their fingers.

‘You can start by helping me assemble that new shelf system tomorrow,’ she tells him, waiting for him to groan in response, or mumble something about hiring some people to do it for them. But he doesn’t. He just opens the door for her and lets her go first with a soft smile on his still flushed face.

‘Anything for you, my love.’

The door shuts with a gentle click behind them.

[kpopfanfictrash]

s is for sexy

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook

Word Count: 1,532

Rating: PG-13

Summary: An accompanying drabble to The Art of War More. This drabble takes place after the events of both TAOM and L is for Lunacy. Jungkook is included in People magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive issue, but you can’t find a copy anywhere.

[ PART OF MY JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY DRABBLE GAME ]

“We’ve made a terrible mistake,” you complained, sinking down on a park bench to rest your chin in one hand.

Coming to a stop, Gina craned her neck to peer over her shoulder. “I agree,” she said. “We should’ve stopped and gotten donuts at that shop I pointed out.”

“Gina.” You looked up. “Read the room, alright?”

“Right, sorry.”

She grinned, plopping down on the park bench beside you. Adjusting her green and white striped shorts, Gina lifted a hand to scan the horizon. A few children played on the slide at the playground, their innocent cackles drifting over the hedges.

Utterly exhausted, you sighed. “We should give up.”

“No!” Gina turned to face you, appalled. “We’re not stopping until we’ve combed every newsstand in the city. Until we’ve harassed every bodega owner! Until our names are plastered under persona non grata in every library!”

Normally, Gina’s speeches were enough for you to crack a smile, but not today. Today was the day Jungkook’s big magazine article was released and you had woefully dropped the ball. To be fair, Seokjin had suggested you order the volume ahead of time, since the People’s Sexiest Men issue tended to sell out, but you completely forgot.

Jungkook had stayed on campus through Senior year, but then had immediately entered the NHL. This was his second full season with the team and already, he was garnering national attention. Much of this was due to a viral clip of your boyfriend removing his jersey at the end of game five of the western conference finals, but said clip wouldn’t have gone viral if Jungkook had been on the bench.

The fact that he got playing time in his first season was remarkable – let alone that he was playing in the semis and was now considered the league’s It boy. Already there were rumors of him being nominated for end of year awards. Jungkook was excited about those, of course, but you and your friends were more excited for this. People’s Sexiest Men Alive.

He wasn’t the cover, of course – that was reserved for A list celebrities – but it seemed Jungkook’s abs had been enough to land him a mention. You’d planned on wallpapering the apartment door with the photo before he got home tomorrow, but that wouldn’t happen if you couldn’t get your hands on a copy.

Unfortunately for you, the issue seemed to be sold out.

Sighing again, you folded your arms over your chest. “Has Seokjin said anything to you?” you asked Gina. “Was he able to find one?”

“How should I know?” she said, somewhat defensive. “It’s not like I know everything Seokjin does or says.”

You stared at her for a moment, unsure how to respond. “Uh – I know?”

“Right.” Gina swallowed, somewhat mollified. “Why don’t we call him?”

Shaking your head at her weirdness, you pulled your phone from your pocket. Honestly, Gina and Seokjin had been acting mad weird lately. They acted all cagey and awkward whenever you asked one about the other. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think they were fighting.

Dialing Seokjin’s number, you leaned back on the bench and listened to his ringback tone. Kim Seokjin was one of the only people you knew – well, him and your aunt – who still had that feature, and Seokjin hadn’t bothered to update his since 2011. It was still Call Me Maybe by Carly Rae Jepsen.

HEY, I JUST MET YOU! AND THIS IS CRAZ –

“Hello?”

“Seokjin,” you groaned. “When are you going to change that dumb ringback tone?”

“Whenever Carly Rae goes out of style, so never.”

Gina, having overheard, cracked up beside you.

“Anyways,” you said, switching to your other ear. “Any luck on the search?”

“Sorry, but nope. Seems your boyfriend is more in demand than that one donut shop Gina always wants to go to.”

“That, or it’s the fact that Michael B. Jordan’s on the cover.”

“Yeah, probably that.”

“Alright,” you sighed, picking a thread on your jeans. “Thanks for trying, Seokjin.”

“Anytime,” he said and hung up.

As you shoved your phone in your purse, Gina looked at you warily. “No luck?”

“Nope.”

“Hm.” Gina leaned back on the bench. “Maybe we should switch gears here, get creative. We could cut out semi-nude photos of Jungkook and stick them to the pages of last year’s edition!”

“Where would I get last year’s issue, though?”

“Good point.” Gina thought. “You could just stick semi-nude photos of Jungkook to your front door?”

“Gina,” you laughed, shoving her shoulder. “Stop stripping my boyfriend!”

“There it is!” Gina beamed. “I knew I could get you to laugh.”

Shaking your head, your smile faded a little. Gina was right though, this was silly. It would’ve been fun for Jungkook to come home from his away game to this, but it was hardly the end of the world. You would just order a copy online and wait.

Heaving a great sigh, you stood from the bench. “Okay,” you said, turning to Gina. “Let’s head out.”

Gina convinced you to go to the donut shop at least, so you didn’t arrive home empty-handed. That was the reason she gave you at least, although you knew it had more to do with her recently launched donut Instagram.

The box was precariously perched on your hip as you shoved open the door, placing the keys on the hook to kick the door shut. As you turned to walk inside, you started – nearly dropping the entire box of donuts on the floor.

“Jungkook?” you gasped.

Chucking the box on the counter, you dashed across the room.

Jungkook laughed when you reached him, immediately jumping to wrap your legs around his waist. He caught you easily, warm hands on your waist as you buried your face in his chest. Somewhat awkwardly, he walked you towards the kitchen.

“You’re back!” you blurted, pulling back to see him.

Jungkook grinned, rosy-cheeked from your touch. “I’m back,” he agreed, depositing you on the kitchen counter. “Miss me?”

“How?” you demanded, poking his chest. “How’d you get home so fast?”

“I feel so welcome,” Jungkook teased. At the look on your face, he grinned. “Coach cancelled tomorrow’s practice, so I caught a flight back today.”

“Yay,” you said happily, leaning to rest your head on his chest.

The steady thrum of his heartbeat reassured you and for a moment, you allowed yourself to enjoy this. Jungkook smelled as he always did, like light floral and cotton, and the weight of his hands on your thighs made your heart calm.

His thumbs played with the thread on your jeans, which sent your mind to other places – places involving your bed, his ass and zero clothes – but for now, you were content with this.

“What’s in the box?” he murmured into your hair.

“Oh, right,” you said and pulled back. Twisting around, you dragged the donut box towards you and popped the top. “Some might be a bit squished since I threw them. Gina and I went to the new donut place on Lakeview.”

Jungkook’s eyes went super-wide. He immediately bent to grab the closest donut, powdered sugar getting everywhere when he bit into the side.

“Yum.” Jungkook’s eyes rolled exaggeratedly back in his head. “Wow, this is the best welcome home I’ve ever gotten. There’s you, of course, but also – donuts.”

“Obviously,” you said. “There was actually supposed to be another surprise, but I kind of messed it up.”

Jungkook licked powdered sugar off his wrist. “Messed something up? You? Don’t buy it.”

“Suck up,” you teased. “But no, really. I wanted to get your People’s Sexiest Men edition! I was going to plaster it across the front door and embarrass you.”

Jungkook grimaced. “As fun as that sounds, the donuts are better.”

“What? You aren’t proud of how sexy you are?”

“I don’t care about that.” Jungkook swallowed the last of the donut. “As long as you find me sexy.”

Tipping your head back, you groaned. “Okay, now you’re seriously sucking up.”

“Mm.” Placing his hands on either side of your thighs, Jungkook’s nose grazed your jawline. “Anything else you want me to suck?”

“Jungkook!”

Drawing back, his gaze glinted darkly. “Besides, why do you need that photo of me with my shirt off?”

You frowned, perturbed and he reached one hand overhead. Still looking at you, Jungkook did that stupid-hot thing guys do where they remove their shirt with one hand. When his six pack abs were revealed, they left you a bit speechless.

Flexing a little, Jungkook grinned. “You have the real thing.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, shoving his pec. Oh – hard. Sliding down from the counter, you began walking towards the bedroom. “But since you offered…”

Jungkook waggled his brows. “I did.”

“Get in there, sexiest man alive,” you laughed. “Show me what you got.”

“Alright.” Jungkook caught himself on the doorframe with both hands. “But before we go any further, I feel compelled to clarify I’m not People’s sexiest man, just one of them. Michael B. Jordan is the sexiest man alive.”

“Jungkook!” You pointed through the door. “Bed!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a salute.

You stared after him, grinning stupidly before following.

 kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[anonthenullifier]

In a follow up to Billy coming out to Tommy, how would Tommy come out to Billy? Would he even say anything or would he just appear with a boyfriend one day and cackle as Billy’s brain recalibrated?

Thank you so much for the ask! In case anyone wants to read Billy coming out to Tommy here it is. Below this is Tommy coming out to Billy...and Wanda and Vision because I figured the whole family should find out. I hope this meets your expectations of how Tommy would do it!

———

It was supposed to be an escape room. One of the ones where intellect wins and the biggest challenge would have been dealing with a bored and grumpy Tommy. “He is never planning,” Billy twirls around, arms engulfed by pulsating electric blue, and slices a chainsaw wielding robot in half, “again.”

Teddy’s glorious smile tempers his annoyance...marginally. “We are trying to escape,” he crushes a tentacled, monstrous vacuum-like robot between his hands, “and it’s a room.”

If Teddy wasn’t so stunning in situations like these, Billy would seethe for longer, but the sheer elation on his boyfriend’s face as another onslaught falls under their combined might is enough to make it seem a less horrible idea. Until his annoyance at his brother’s idiocy surges back. “This would be Tommy’s idea of a chill evening.”

Expertly Teddy deflects. “Where are they?”

It’s not something Billy had thought about in the ten minutes of endless fighting, but now that Teddy points it out, both Tommy and the newest recruit, David, are not visible. “He’s um,” Billy reaches out mentally, quickly finding the frenzied mind of his brother, the pattern of his thoughts like watching a pot of boiling water right before it bubbles up and over the rim. With practiced ease he latches on, keeping his own mind detached enough to not be dragged into the whirlpool of chaos, “they’re on the other side of that tower.”

“Race you?”

Billy grins, hanging back a second to appreciate the view, and then his hands alight and he rises into the air, body leaning with the current and wrists rotating forwards and backwards as he clears all obstacles from his path. If he allows his eyes to stray down to watch Teddy’s path of destruction, no one’s the wiser, neither Sam nor Carol here to scold him.

Five feet before Teddy reaches the base of the tower, Billy opens a portal, diving headfirst into it and then pops out of a second portal past the makeshift finish line, just in time to paint on his best faux innocent grin. “What took you so long?”

The dry “Congrats,” is made more genuine by the loving kiss that follows.

Tommy’s frantic “David!” ruins their moment.

“Shit.” Billy follows his boyfriend’s eyes up to a little walkway on the tower where David stands, hands gripping a rickety railing and glasses reflecting the menacing lights of the encroaching robot battalion.

Blue energy crawls out from between Billy’s fingers, his body gearing up to fly up and help their teammate, until Tommy sprints over. “I got this,” and then becomes a blur, zigzagging up the ramps and stairs, bowling through the last of the mechanical foes until they all crash down from the tower.

“He’s such a show—“ Billy freezes, head tilting to the side as Tommy scoops up David bridal style and executes a perfect Maximoff rescue, their lips meeting in fevered presses, David’s arms wrapping around Tommy’s neck, and their attention focused solely on passionately celebrating. “Um…”

“I told you David had a small crush on me, right?”

Billy’s brain slogs through recent memories, vaguely recalling this information. “Um...yeah?”

“Guess he moved on.”

“Guess so…” The mind isn’t a computer. Billy knows this, has sat through dad’s lectures on the tired and not empirically backed metaphor, and yet right now he feels like a computer that’s missing a vital update, his thoughts desperately trying to recalibrate and refresh itself to process the awkwardly long make out session in front of him. And then they stop, Tommy placing David back on his feet, though their arms remain around each other, and that’s when his twin starts cackling.

“Look at your face!” If this is some cruel joke, Billy doesn’t appreciate it nor does he appreciate the fact that Teddy is chuckling along with Tommy’s riotous glee. “Look at it.” Now David is snickering as well, the mood apparently contagious to everyone but Billy, who’s inoculated to Tommy’s shit by now.

Tommy hoists David back into arms and runs them down until they’re standing in an awkward sort of square-oval formation. “Oh don’t look like that.”

“I’m not looking like anything.” Real convincing.

“It’s not a joke,” his brother hesitates and then clarifies, “okay, depends on how you define a joke, but the message is real.”

What message was he sending? That he’s learned mom and dad’s celebration tactic? That he likes to catch Billy off guard and embarrass him or that...that he and David are still holding hands and that Tommy’s usual confidence is starting to crack and a spur of fear that never, ever exists in his brother’s mind has cropped up the longer Billy stays silent. All at once Billy’s chagrin disappears, replaced by emphatic happiness, one that manifests with a chuckle at the ridiculousness of his brother.

“Finally connect the dots?”

“Yeah,” Billy pulls his brother into a hug, ignoring the grunt of disapproval at such shows of affection, “thanks for telling me.”

“Of course,” Tommy pulls back wearing the sunniest smile Billy’s ever seen on his face, “had to make sure you knew first.”

A brush of his brother’s mind reveals an evening out of stress and concern, both things Tommy didn’t need to have, but Billy knows firsthand how terrifying coming out can be. “I appreciate it.” Billy steps back, eagerly accepting Teddy’s arm around his shoulders, “You going this elaborate for mom and dad?”

The glance between Tommy and David not only answers his question perfectly, but helps him see the genuine connection they already share and the future trouble of dealing with a mutually devious couple. “I have a few ideas, if you’re willing to help.”

———

Everything is set. There’s a conspicuous rope ladder hanging out his window, the banner is strung up over the table with his cake and party hats, he’s got a box of party poppers under the comforter, and, most vital to it all, David is laying next to him.

“You nervous?”

Insanely. “Nope,” he’s a pretty gifted liar but the little quirk of David’s eyebrow lets him know he isn’t fooling anyone. “Fine, a bit.”

He has, for a long time, made fun of Billy and Teddy’s little reassuring kisses, but now that David tenderly brushes his lips to Tommy’s forehead, he’ll have to admit it’s a little calming. “Me too. This is going to be my first time meeting your parents outside of uniform.”

Oh shit, he hadn’t even thought about that or how awkward this all might be for David. Other than the crushing fear that their acceptance and love can only extend to one child (something he knows is not true but still can’t shake), Tommy has no qualms with the method of coming out they’ve gone with. He thinks back to all the talks (the many many many talks) dad has had with him on respect and consent. Things he has considered and put into practice but it feels way more important now. “If you aren’t comfortable with this…”

“I’m fine, just nervous,” another kiss, but this one on the mouth and exciting instead of soothing, “and really looking forward to the cake.”

It’s a three tiered cake, each layer a different color of the flag, all wrapped in white buttercream, and in the fanciest writing Billy could muster it says: I’m bisexual . They argued over whether to add an exclamation mark, but Tommy himself would like to insert the enthusiasm instead of the frosting doing it. “Me too.”

There is the tell-tale chime of vibranium phasing through a wall and the less easy to spot sound of wind going through his dad’s intangible body. Good thing Tommy has snuck around enough to recognize it. “Come here,” he pulls David closer, deciding if they’re going to have to incur suspicion, might as well have some fun with it. It’s successful, the chiming moving from outside to inside the master bedroom and then footfalls let them know his parents are outside the door. Tommy steals one more kiss, “You ready?”

Except David can’t let him win and sneaks one more. “Are you?”

“Yep.” He is. He has never been more ready in his life which is why it’s aggravating that there hasn’t been a knock and the door hasn’t clicked open. “Be nice if they moved faster.”

From outside there is a muffled conversation, one that sounds like it involves a lot of gesticulating and disagreement. Then he can hear Billy, his guardian angel, chime in, “You can’t let him get away with it. That’s not fair.” What a sly and loving asshole.

Dad sighs, and it’s a deep one, one that means he’s exhausted from his mission and just wants to relax but now there are shenanigans he has to deal with. That’s when the knock comes, followed by, “Thomas?”

David giggles and Tommy does his best to shush him, only that just encourages it further and now Tommy’s sniggering as quietly as he can. “Thomas?” A more forceful knock and more barely subdued laughter. “Thomas, I am opening the door.”

His fingers grip the party poppers as he waits for the light to switch on and then Tommy leaps up with a “Surprise!” The first party popper bursts to life, confetti flying all over his comforter. “I’m bi!” The second popper erupts with even more force.

It’s through the settling confetti that he sees the confusion on mom and dad’s faces and suddenly it all feels too much, too elaborate, too close to a joke. Even Billy’s double thumbs up from the hallway doesn’t allay the dread circling in amongst the swirling shreds of paper. He tracks every movement of his parents’ eyes as they take in the cake and the banner and the streamers and oh...yeah this is awkward, “Um and this,” Tommy helps David out of the bed, “is my boyfriend, David.”

Mom and dad look at each other, some unspoken thing passing between them and then dad walks over to the table, grabs two of the pink, lavender, and blue striped party hats, hands one to mom and then delicately slides the elastic band of his under his chin. “It’s nice to meet you David,” they shake hands and then dad, without asking permission of any kind, wraps Tommy in a tight hug. “I love you.”

This is usually when he squirms away, utilizing his super speed to avoid such displays of affection, but this time he allows it, reciprocating the hug and smiling as mom joins in to make a Tommy sandwich. “We love you so much.”

“Thanks.”

After about a minute it’s a bit much though, something his brother senses, exuberantly declaring, “Anyone want cake?” David, bless his heart, takes on the role of cake slicer and disher, passing out the plates and making sure Tommy gets the corner with the most frosting.

It’s all a bit surreal, a bit too wholesome for his tastes and yet it’s also perfect, mom’s hat askew while dad grimaces at the overly sweet frosting she offers him, Billy chatting happily with David over some punch, all under the handcrafted banner of Guess Who’s Bi?

Tommy smiles, digs his fork into the cake, and joins them, feeling more like himself than ever before.

[horansqueen]

New Angel - Chapter 14

story masterlist [x]

chapter 1  ☆ chapter 2  ☆ chapter 3  ☆ chapter 4  ☆ chapter 5  ☆ chapter 6  ☆ chapter 7  ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10 ☆ chapter 11 ☆ chapter 12 ☆ chapter 13

NOTES

☆ written from Niall’s pov ☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ☆ 2.7k ☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox!  ☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

NIALL

When I pushed on the door of the library, I felt lighter and I had a smile on my face. I was even starting to wonder if maybe I should give up on a love and sex life altogether. I knew it could bring joy and happiness, but at the exact moment, all it did was confuse me and make me nervous, and honestly, I didn't need that.

I smiled when I noticed Millie sitting behind the counter, her head leaned against her hand and looking down, probably deeply lost in a book. I stared at her a few seconds and saw her look up at someone who came to ask a question. She got up and they talked so I decided to walk the aisles to find something new to read. I ended up with a book full of random thoughts and sat at a table near the counter to make sure she'd see me. It took my friend only a few seconds to notice me and her lips curled as she raised her eyebrows. I waved slightly at her and checked my watch. I still had about ten minutes to wait and I just opened the book to start reading. It's only when I felt someone sit next to me that I got out of my thoughts a bit but I still had to blink a few times to get back completely to reality, turning around and smiling to Millie who leaned her elbow on the table and placed her chin on her palm, staring at me.

"I'm glad you came." she whispered, making me raise my eyebrows.

"I said I would, did you doubt it?"

She shrugged a shoulder and looked away. "When Louis said he'd come, it was a 50/50 bet to take."

"Perfect. That's the first thing you'll write down on your list."

She raised her eyebrows a bit surprised and I just got up and walked back to the desk where one of her co-workers was now sitting. I sent the girl a big smile and bent down slightly, asking her for paper and pen. She smiled back and started playing with a lock of her hair before nodding and giving me a few sheets and two pen. I walked back to Millie with a winner smile and she rolled her eyes, chuckling as I sat back down.

"T'was easy."

"With those eyes and that smile you can clearly get anything you want." she pointed out, rolling her eyes again.

"You almost sound jealous."

I gave her a sheet and a pen as she sighed, taking the pen in her hand and scribbling at the top to make sure the pen was working.

"I am." she confessed in a whisper. "It must be amazing to be you."

"Can I remind you that the girl I thought I'd spent my life with has broken my heart?"

"And then came back. I don't think you realize how lucky you are. Not about Grace coming back, but about everyone falling in love with you super easily." she explained, staring down at her sheet.

I looked at what she was writing and smiled sadly. 'All The Things I Hate About Lou'.

"How many times did you have your heart broken, Niall?" she continued, drawing hearts next to Louis' name.

"What do you mean?"

"How many girls did you fall for that didn't love you back? How many girls did you date and loved actually left you? How many of them made you cry?" she elaborated, making me frown slightly. "And I'm not even asking about the girls you just wanted to shag. I'm pretty sure not many refused."

"I've been through unrequited love, too, you know." I shook my head. "I know how it feels."

"You probably broke more hearts than the number of times yours has been broken." she added slowly with an other shrug and a sigh. "I'm not saying you didn't hurt or that your pain is not real or important I just mean..." she paused and shook her head, her eyes finally meeting mine. "I just mean that it must amazing to be you."

"Maybe it's time you see that it's also amazing to be you, Mill." I pointed out. "And the fact that Louis broke your heart doesn't mean you're not incredible, okay?"

I grabbed my pen and started writing X's on all the hearts she had drawn and finally added the number '1'.

"Okay..."

"Now write down how unreliable he is."

Millie looked up at me and her lips curled a bit before she chuckled. I waited until she was done and grabbed my sheet too, making a long vertical line in the middle before writing 'Grace' on the left and 'Summer' on the right. I separated both their cases in two too, writing 'pros' on both sides and then 'cons'.

I stared at the sheet for a minute or two and finally sighed. I had no idea what to write. Not because they didn't have qualities and flaws, but because I knew it would bring me closer to a decision I was clearly not ready to make.

"You don't have to write anything right now." I heard, feeling Millie's hand on my shoulder.

I kept my eyes on the sheets and licked my lips, nodding slowly and finally, I folded the sheet and put it in my back pocket. Millie got up and I did the same, forcing myself to put a smile back on my face and I walked past her. She followed me outside and when we were out, I stopped and turned to her, raising my eyebrows. I decided to put anything that had to do with love away for now, burring it deep in my brain for a while, focusing only on doing fun things.

"Okay, so what's your routine after work?"

She looked a bit surprised but finally turned around, pointing at a small restaurant not too far. "I go there first."

"Alright, let's go there, then."

I followed her inside and she ordered three pieces of pizza and three water bottles. The person behind the counter smiled and prepared the food, putting every slices of pizza in a different box. I watched Millie pay and grab the bag the guy was handing her before sending him a smile.

"Thanks Jon, I'll see you tomorrow."

We walked out and I raised my eyebrows, looking at her with an amused smile. "You literally know his name?"

"We all work around each other so we sort of see each other often. Not just with Jon but with other people too." she clarified, handing me a box. I grabbed it and she looked again in the bag for a water bottle, giving it to me too.

"Please, tell me the other pizza is not for Louis."

She looked up in my eyes and her lips curled. "No!" she chuckled as she started walking quicker. I followed her in an alley but frowned as I pushed my hands in my pockets. I was not sure why we were there but I didn't even have time to ask. I saw my friend bend down near a man who was sleeping and whisper something to him. He jumped slightly and she laughed, handing him a box and a water bottle. He sat up and grabbed both a small smile on his lips.

"What is it today, Millie?"

"Pizza." she pointed out. "How are you today, Ernie?"

I watched her interact with a homeless man just standing there and wondering who the hell was this girl I thought I knew, and why didn't I try to find out more about her before,

"Is your friend mute or just dumb?" the man asked, making my friend laugh.

"I'd have to pick the latter."

I frowned at her and took a step closer. "Hey! That's rude!"

"Ernie, this is my friend Niall. Niall, this is my friend Ernie."

I sent him a small smile and a head nod before Millie sighed and got back up, telling him she was leaving but that she'd be back the next day. She walked past me and I was about to follow her but finally took the few steps separating me from Ernie and handed him my box.

"Thanks, kid."

I nodded again and turned on my heels, jogging slightly to reach Millie who just looked at me with her lips curled on the left. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged, pushing my hands back in my pockets. "What?"

"Nothing."

I could hear in her voice that she was thinking about something but I couldn't decipher the way she was looking at me. I smiled back at her and finally cleared my throat. "Okay, what's next?"

She took her slice of pizza out of the box and took a bite before handing it to me. "Once a week, I go to the movies and the other days, I just go in the old dvd and vhs shop where they sell old movies for a buck or two."

"And what's today?" I replied, my mouth full of pizza. "The shop. Cinema is on thursday because it's pay day."

"Makes sense."

We walked inside a small shop and the bell placed on top of the door rang gently. She waved at the employee and he waved back before she chose an aisle and tilted her head on the side to read the titles. It took her about five minutes before her lips curled and she grabbed one. It was a tape and I started wondering if she even had a VCR to watch it.

"This. Did you ever see it?"

She handed me a box and I raised my nose up when I noticed Leonardo Dicaprio on the cover. I turned the tape around and noticed the incredible landscapes pictured. The images would probably look even better on DVD or in 4K but I didn't mention it and just nodded. It was her routine, not mine, and I was extremely curious to find out more about her.

"Nop, never."

"It's a good movie, with a few French actors."

I followed her to pay and the guy behind the counter smiled and nodded. "Ah, nice one."

"I know right? I think I'm gonna keep this one."

"A movie where Leonardo Dicaprio goes nuts? Good idea to keep it." he added, making her chuckle.

"And the girl is nice to look at, too." Millie added, making the guy nod frenetically.

I looked around the place, quite surprised at how many choices they had. How many nice places like this was I missing on? And why didn't I ever hear about them?

"What did you mean when you said you'd keep this one?" I asked when we walked out.

"Oh, when I bring back three movies, I can trade it for one. I do that sometimes."

I turned to look at her and she did the same just to send me a smile before turning her head back in front of her. We kept walking but I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I thought I knew Millie but I had just realized that there were so many things about her that she didn't share and that I didn't take the time to ask, I knew that even if our friendship was not recent, our bond and how close we were was pretty new but at the same time, I felt like there were things I should know about her.

I should have checked where I was going because once again, I ended up running into a trash can on the sidewalk. Millie started laughing and I groaned, taking my hands out of my pockets before getting around it and walking quickly to her.

"Shut up." I mumbled, making her laugh even more.

"You don't seem like the clumsy kind of guy, I'm just surprised every time you run into something, and it seems to happen a lot!"

"Yea yea, how about you stop laughing and we just go back home to watch that movie?"

We had to watch the movie in her room for the simple reason that the videotape recorder was there and it seemed like way too much trouble to plug it in the living room. I made popcorn but Millie opened a few drawers and placed candies on her bed and it made me smile.

"Why don't you buy 6 or 7 movies at the same time? That way you don't have to go back there every day." I proposed, throwing some popcorn in my mouth and leaning against the wall with her.

"I can't know which mood i'll be in. It's a spur of the moment thing." she explained as the movie started. "Plus, I love going there."

"And what do we do after watching the movie?"

"It's dinner. Then shower, a few episodes of a netflix show, and bed time."

We watched the movie for a while and I had to admit the plotline was good, even if a bit fucked up. Millie was also right about the girl : she was very nice to look at and somehow, it made me glance at her.

"That girl is hot as fuck." I admitted, making Millie burst into laughter as she pushed an other candy in her mouth.

"I know right! And she's your type, too! I knew you'd like her!"

I blinked a few times and once again turned to my friend, leaning my head on the wall. I hated when she said that. I knew she didn't mean anything by it but I didn't want to admit that I would use some sort of base or mold to pick a girl. I hated thinking that I was shallow to the point where other girls who were not 'my type' wouldn't catch my eyes or stand a chance with me. And most of all, I hated that Millie saw me like that. I was about to start a discussion about it when Millie talked again, her eyes still glued on the tv.

"What about you?" she glanced at me. "What's your routine?"

I crossed my arms on my chest and shrugged a shoulder as my nose raised up in a grimace. "I don't have a routine anymore. My routine used to be with Grace and when she left, it became netflix from when the sun rises until it would set."

The fact that it was just being clear to me made something twist in my stomach. Who the fuck was I? Could I remember who I was before Grace? And now, with Summer, was I really myself?

I took the sheet out of my back pocket and unfolded it just as Millie handed me a pen and a book to write on. I looked up at her and sent her a small smile before writing under the cons in Grace's column. 'She decides everything'

"You know, I think that's part of why you annoyed me so much." Millie admitted. I looked up from the sheet and sent her a frown. Her traits softened and she sent me a sorry smile. "She would just tell you what she wanted and what to do and you'd never argue. She was bossy and controlling."

I couldn't pretend she was not right and I nodded with a sigh. "You know the worst? Summer is exactly the opposite. She's super compliant and it can get quite annoying."

Millie raised her eyebrows at me. "Well I guess you found something to write in the cons for Summer."

I sighed again but louder this time before looking down at my sheet again. I wrote down what I had just said and shook my head a bit. It was pathetic that the first things I thought about writing were flaws and I closed my eyes, letting my head fall against the wall in a loud noise after closing my eyes. "This is ridiculous, I can't choose."

"Hey, relax, it's just day one."

I felt my friend move on the bed and forced myself to open my eyes, noticing Millie was now facing me with a small smile. "We have 6 more days to fill that sheet." she slapped gently my thigh with the back of her hand and licked her lips as they curled more. "Trust me."

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 4 (Nessian AU)

A/N: I know I haven't been able to update as fast as you'd want me to but I'll try to fix that. Your comments and feedbacks are very much appreciated. Do inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: None really

1652words | Incorrect Order Masterlist | Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The best way to keep whatever problems one has out of their mind was to do something they liked. That was the only way Cassian kept from spiraling. Since sending the woman to her own house, Cassian had more than a few moments when he wanted to repeatedly slam his head against a wall. That’s why he spent most of his time sparring with Azriel. He won’t admit he was simping for that woman in his free time too. Or maybe that was always.

Now, sprawled on a couch in front of the TV, with nothing to do but stare at a blank screen, Cassian led his thoughts to the box he kept all unwanted thoughts locked in. He thought about Tomas, her ex-boyfriend. Funny, he thought. I know her ex's name but not hers.

It took him a little too long the other day to realise they didn't exchange names. Again. He once thought that maybe she was purposely not giving him her name. That maybe, for her, he was just a random stranger who happened to save her life. He snorted. Surely anyone would know the name of the person they saved or was saved by— stranger or not. He supposed he'll have to make do with pronouns for now.

After she left his home, it took every scrap of self-restraint not to beat this Tomas dude to pulp and let him rot in the same alley he had the misfortune of meeting him in. He may or may not have been the cause for some extra injuries. Cassian appreciated the woman’s attempt at mercy. He, however, didn’t trust Tomas at all. He was dubious about just handing him over to the police. Who’s to know he won’t frame him and the woman for absurd things? Anyway, he left a note in Tomas’s house saying something like “Step out of line, lose your favourite part of anatomy. Name it and have it for your meal.” He made sure he printed so that no one would recognise his writing. Yet, all this didn’t calm his nerves one bit. He presumed he’ll have to stay on guard for some time now.

Now, back to the girl. He sighed. He didn’t dare change the sheets in his guest bedroom. He didn’t even let Mor use the room when she came over last weekend— which he could bet created suspicion. No, that room was only open when he craved her scent. He even realised one of his shirts was missing. He shrugged it off thinking he would've left it somewhere and just couldn't find it. Once she came to his house, he was constantly thinking about her. So much that now he started pinching himself often. It was the only way he could stop thinking about her— by creating physical pain.

Cassian glanced at the clock on the wall. 2.30 in the afternoon. He walked to the refrigerator and checked his freezer compartment. Huh. No ice-cream. He sighed, grabbed his jacket and keys and headed to the mall to get an ice-cream with a pout. He’ll have to leave for Rhys and Feyre’s first anniversary only around 5.30 to prepare everything. He has enough time to get an ice-cream and probably hang out for some time. Good enough to stop thinking about her. Or so he thought.

***

Nesta wasn’t sore anymore. Her headache was gone almost a week after the incident. Her nose didn’t hurt anymore. Okay, maybe a little bit. It didn’t hurt unless she bumped her nose against something. Today, her nose was dully throbbing because she hit her nose against a pillow yesterday. A very, very soft pillow and yet it hurt this much.

The man’s first-aid and medicines were really helpful.

It really wasn’t fair that he excelled at basic first aid too. It wasn’t fair that he looked so good. With black tattoos swirling over generously muscled arms and shoulder-length dark hair curling at the edges and gloriously tanned skin and hazel eyes with minute flecks of green and brown when taken a closer look at and dimples and—

A quiet “Who is it?” snapped Nesta out of her moping. She looked up to see Gwyn walking to her.

“Who is what?” she asked, feigning nonchalance. Gwyn's pursed lips and glare conveyed that her act wasn't enough.

“Who are you thinking about?” Gwyn clarified.

“What makes you think I'm thinking about someone?” Nesta retorted.

Gwyn sat on the chair next to her and started assisting with classifying the unceremonious heap of books on the table to be kept back in its correct positions on its own rack.

“Nesta,” Gwyn sighed, “Clotho assigned you this stack almost an hour ago. And you've barely finished a third of the stack. Normally, you'd finish stacks bigger than this in an hour. So there's clearly something.”

“It wasn't anyone,” Nesta mumbled.

As usual, Gwyn saw through her lie. “You were twirling your hair,” she said flatly.

Heat inched up her neck. “I was not!”

Gwyn murmured a “uh-huh” and they lapsed into an easy silence till they were almost over.

Gwyn's eyes lit up as it normally did whenever she got an idea. “Is it him? The guy you came with that day?”

Nesta scowled, “How do you know…” she broke off when she realised which 'that day' Gwyn was talking about. Nesta fought back a blush. “No, no, this isn't about him. We don't know each other. Much. Like, we've seen each other a number of times? That's it. Nothing else.” Cauldron, the first part was a complete lie. But at least the rest are true. Will Gwyn happen to know his name? Maybe I ought to ask her. Or maybe I shouldn't.

She should, she decided. She cleared her throat. “Uh, Gwyn? Do you happen to know his name?”

Gwyn frowned and asked, “He hasn't told you yet?”

Nesta shook her head and answered, “No, we, uh, forgot. I guess. We haven't really exchanged names.”

Gwyn nodded and smiled. “Well, he is—”

“Gwyn!” a voice called. “You can't expect me to come over to you and beg for you to help me. Help me only if you want to or don't work under me.”

Gwyn’s eyes widened. She abruptly stood up and mouthed, “Merrill. I gotta go. I’m so sorry.” She all but ran to Merrill, the very strict librarian Gwyn was working under.

Nesta sighed and continued her work. There wasn’t much left so she was able to finish fast. She picked her things and left the library with a word to Clotho, heading to the mall.

***

The best way to keep whatever problems one has out of their mind was to also eat something they liked. So, ice-cream it was. After having his ice-cream, Cassian was aimlessly walking around the mall. Here, not more than a month ago, he met her for the first time. Almost a month ago. He huffed out a breath. The fact that he was pining for her this long blew his mind off. He—

“This is your fault— not mine. I’m not taking the blame for this,” he told her. They bumped into each other. Again.

Her lips quirked up. “It is kind of my fault. But blame this—,” she poked his chest, “— for making my nose hurt again.”

Just like that, his mood sobered. “How are you?” he asked.

She pointed at the cafe to her left. “Coffee?”

He nodded. Who was he to say no to her?

So they ordered coffee and talked about everything and nothing. He grinned and she laughed. He laughed and she smirked. He wouldn’t say he knew her well but he’d never seen her so carefree. Her laugh was like nectar for a starving man. Her eyes bright and welling up with tears from laughing.

“I don’t think I’ve laughed this much,” she said.

Cassian put a hand on his heart dramatically and said, “I know, I know. I’m very funny.”

Her lips kicked up a notch. She straightened as if she just realised something. He was about to ask when she drawled, “So I just realised that we still haven’t exchanged names.”

Oh. Right. Of course. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Usually, when people meet, they start with introductions but in our case we’ve literally bumped into each other three times and still we don’t know each other.” He shook his head and extended his hand. “Well, hello there. I’m—”

His phone rang in his pocket. Fuck. He was going to kill whoever was calling him now. He was so close to knowing her name. He pulled out his phone to see an incoming call from Azriel. He apologetically looked up at her and said, “I’m sorry. I wish I could choose not to take this call and instead kill this idiot but I can’t. Just give me a moment, okay?”

She nodded and he picked up his call.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

“It’s 5.30 already, you idiot. We’ve got to get the things ready for the party. Mor already went to get the cake and you’re not even at home. Where on all earth and hell are you?” came Az’s faint voice.

“15 minutes only? Mother above, I’m coming.” he said.

Az’s “make it fast” was the last thing he heard before hanging up. “I wish we could stay here and talk forever,” he said to her, “but I have something up in a short while and I totally didn’t realise time was passing this fast. I’m so sorry. It was nice talking to you. Really. And I wish we could meet again. Though without the bumping part.”

He grinned when she smiled and said, “Bye. Have a nice day.”

“You too,” he called back. He didn’t want to think he imagined the subtle look of disappointment on her face because hell, he was a walking epitome of disappointment right now.

taglist:

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[atlafan]

It was a long day, Harry was in and out of meetings that he felt like he easily just could have gotten the notes from to stay updated. He had a business lunch with the CEO and COO of the company, and then finally got some peace and quiet in his office. His inbox was full, but luckily he was able to forward a ton of things to his assistant who was more than happy to take care of the more tedious tasks for him. Around 4:30, his assistant buzzes into his intercom.

“Mr. Styles? Miss Durham was wondering if you had a couple of minutes. She finished working on the pivot report you requested, and she wanted to go over it with you.”

“Sure, Ashley, send her in, thank you.” Harry runs a hand through his hair. He looks at Cora as she walks in holding her laptop. “Hi.”

“Good afternoon, I emailed the report to you as well so we could look at it together. I just had a few clarifying questions before I submitted it to the team drop box.” She sits down across from his desk.

“This is genuinely about a pivot report?” Cora nods yes. “You realize you could have just gone over this with Meredith, right?”

“I did, and she told me to go over it with you to make sure it was good to go for your board meeting.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, didn’t realize you were too good for your lower level employees.” She smirks as she pulls up the report.

“You shouldn’t speak to me like that.”

“I’m just teasing, relax.” She clicks around a few times on the report. “Okay, so I had to pull a couple of queries to get these figures, and I’d be happy to show you how I did it, but-“

“Do you mind if I just look over it myself?” He asks.

“Oh, so I can’t interrupt you, but you can interrupt me?”

“Correct.” He furrows his brows as he looks over the report. “This looks good, Cora, thank you.”

“That’s it?”

“Is there more?”

“I just thought you’d want to know how I got the results.”

“Cora.” Harry sighs. “I trust that you were hired for a reason. If I needed to see exactly how you do every little thing, I wouldn’t think you were very competent.” He closes her laptop and slides it back to her. “You did a good job, is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Well…yeah. Don’t you like to hear that you’ve done a good job?”

“Sure I do.” He shrugs. “Just not as much as you, it seems.”

“What are you trying to say?” Her face flushes.

“You seem to respond to praise.” He leans back in his chair. “You like knowing when you’ve done a good job, or when you’ve been a good girl.” He smirks.

“Last time I checked, we’re at work.” She stands up and grabs her laptop.

“But in an hour we won’t be. I expect you waiting at my place for me.”

“And how would you like me?” She grins.

“Fully clothed, sitting at my dining room table. I’ll pick up dinner on my way home. Feel free to open a bottle of wine while you wait.”

“Yes, Sir.”

[WISH-LIST PART ONE COMING TO PATREON ON SATURDAY, APRIL 16TH @ 8AM EST]

[lottiejames]

Reunion

After months of internal work (and Viperion's good word), Ladybug has granted Chloe Bourgeois the bee miraculous, much to Viperion's surprise. Sequel to Call on Me

Or read it here: on AO3 (Call on Me)

Chloe stared at the simple box in front of her, seemingly innocent against the expensive fabric of her duvet. She didn’t know which was racing faster: her thoughts or her pulse. She didn’t actually think she’d be here again, no matter what her wildest fantasies contained, no matter how much it was talked about within herself, between her and him, between them, between any combination of the other holders. Yet, Ladybug had come and gone with a promise, and perhaps a warning, that she’d be back. The weight of it all sat heavily on her shoulders. Steeling herself, she reached for the box and opened it.

A golden glow swirled, then suspended in the air, was one of the beings she had hurt the most, “How may I serve you, my queen?”

The tears she hadn’t realized she’d been holding back sprung from her eyes, trailing down her face. Blue eyes followed their paths with concern, “Don’t cry, my queen,”

“Oh, Pollen,” Chloe whined, arms wrapping themselves around her legs, “I'm so sorry for everything I put you through,”

The yellow kwami floated up to her, wiping away a tear, “Oh, Chloe, I’ve been around a long, long time. I’ve seen many things, I’ve done many things. While it doesn’t justify any of it, I understand. I’ve seen the fear, the insecurities overcome my own holders and holders of the other miraculous,”

“It doesn’t make it...I shouldn’t have...I’m so sorry. I know words won’t ever be enough,”

Pollen smiled at Chloe, “Then show me with your actions, with changed behavior,”

“You’ll really give me another chance? Will you really forgive me?”

“I will. Ladybug and I have spoken at length about you, as well as the other kwamis giving me updates from their perspectives. I’ve long since forgiven you, Chloe,”

More tears spilled with a chuckle, “You are truly miraculous, Pollen,”

An overexaggerated sigh escaped the kwami, “Puns? Have you really been hanging around that cat so much in my absence?”

“Oh, Pollen, I don’t even know who that is,” She wiped away her tears, “I still only know the ones from...that day,”

Pollen nodded wisely, “Ah, yes. How are things going with Sass’s holder?”

Chloe’s cheeks suddenly burned as she picked at the loose thread on her duvet cover, “I’m not sure I know what you mean,”

“You’ll tell me, sooner rather than later,” Pollen shrugged, “I thought I overheard Ladybug saying she’d be back to pick you up for patrol?”

Chloe nodded, cheeks still stained, “Yes, she should be back soon,”

“And we are surprising him, yes?” Pollen pretended to be looking at her nonexistent fingernails, much like Chloe used to do around her.

“Yes,”

“Just say the magic words then, my queen,”

Despite the lingering guilt, the bundle of nerves, the schoolgirlish glee, Chloe smiled brightly, “Pollen, buzz on.”

***

“The end of your sector will be just over there,” Carapace pointed into the distance, after consulting the map in his hands.

“Where that wig shop is?” Viperion clarified, eyes squinting trying to see it from their rooftop view.

“Right there, yes. I was trying to have it by the gelato shop you like so much, but Ladybug didn’t like that idea,”

“I let Chat convince me to take one break during some random patrol and now it haunts me all the time,” he waved around dramatically.

“To be fair, it’s probably more him than you. His sector is getting changed too,”

Viperion turned around, “Why all the sector changes? We just changed them a few months ago,”

Carapace shuffled his feet, “Reasons,”

“Reasons?”

“Yep,”

Viperion folded his arms and continued to stare, “Care to elaborate?”

“Nope,” the map of the Parisian streets was quickly put aside.

Before he could question Carapace any further, separate blurs of orange and black flew past them.

“And that is how the fox outsmarts and outruns the cat,” Rena Rouge announced, her face beaming with a triumphant smile.

“Cheater! There was cheating!” Multiple raised eyebrows fixed on Chat Noir’s face, “There’s no way you knew about the alleyway shortcut, unless...Carapace, you dared betray me?”

Carapace looked away from him as Rena Rouge hugged his arm, “It was well worth the betrayal. Sorry, Kitty,”

As Chat Noir continued his theatrics, Viperion heard muffled voices coming from the stairwell door. His furrowed brows were lost on his companions.

A loud groan of aged metal revealed Ladybug, a knowing smile on her face. It was when she stepped aside, that Viperion felt the breath get knocked out of him.

With the setting Parisian sun as her backdrop, blonde hair gently swaying in the warm breeze, stood a figure draped in yellow and black, gold and night.

“Chloe?”

“Tsk, tsk. You know just as well as everyone else, it’s Queen Bee,” her voice tinkled through the air.

The world blurred at the edges, the voices surrounding him were muffled as if underwater. The only sight he could focus on was the renewed Miraculous holder and she stared right back.

She drew closer to him and before his thoughts caught up with his limbs, he was holding her close. He could smell a faint floral scent, reminiscent of her perfume. Her arms wrapped around him, breathing a sigh of relief at the welcoming.

He pulled away after a moment, eyes taking in her features, missing the light freckles hidden underneath her mask. Amusement looked back at him.

“But how?”

Queen Bee shrugged a shoulder, “Something about patience, dependability, redemption. It seems to have helped to have someone on the inside speaking to my many, many virtues,”

Viperion was vaguely aware of a tension on his cheeks, a product of his grin no doubt.

Coughing rather forcefully, Carapace drew their attention, “Now you know the reason for patrol changes,”

“And I expect,” Ladybug’s blue eyes shifted back and forth between the pair, “that there will be no tomfoolery or ridiculous antics,”

“Of course, you don’t have to worry about any of that,” Queen Bee said with conviction, her posture much like that of a soldier receiving orders from a superior.

“I, also, expect that there will be no secret rendezvous for make out sessions or hero date nights,”

Though her mask hid her freckles, it did nothing to conceal the growing blush on her cheeks. Viperion let out a strangled cough as Chat Noir laughed in the background.

“Understood?” Queen Bee and Viperion nodded quickly, avoiding eye contact with each other, “Good. We need to take in these budding romances in stages after all. Well, Viperion knows the drill. You're free to go home once your sector is done, barring anything happening,"

With that said, Ladybug turned towards Chat Noir, spoke a few words, and soon he was chasing after her. As if on cue, Rena Rouge and Carapace nodded to them and ran off into the night together.

Soon, only the noises from the streets below sounded around them.

“I had no-”

“I must say-”

Both of them chuckled, finally looking at each other.

“You first,” Viperion whispered, eyes skipping across her features.

Queen Bee took a breath, “Thank you. I know that I’ve been trying for a while now, but I really don’t think any of this could have happened without you, your input, your kindness,”

He scratched the back of his head, “I only shared the truth when asked. You’ve done a lot of growing, Chlo, even I can see it,”

“Queen Bee,”

Viperion’s face darkened again, “Ah, yes, of course. It’ll take me a minute to get used to that,”

She reached out and touched his arm, looking up at him to make eye contact, “Thank you, really. I don’t know how to repay you,”

“I’m sure one of us will think of something,” he replied, his thoughts jumping to all the various ways that could happen.

Her features shone with a warm radiance as she stepped closer to him. She raised herself onto tip-toe, closing much of the distance between them. Queen Bee, who soon would be known for her impeccable aim, missed her target on her second first-day as a hero. Viperion, as if on auto-pilot, as if one of her facial features were a magnet, followed her. She leaned in, so did he. She leaned right, so did he. A simple kiss on the cheek was met with lips instead.

It was fleeting, a brief second, but blue eyes flew open when she pulled away. They’d never had a seemingly telepathic connection, not like Ladybug and Chat Noir. In that moment, though, their eyes searched one another and with the most discreet of nods, their lips met properly, purposefully. Viperion’s arms wrapped around her waist as Queen Bee pulled him closer to her. It felt warm, it felt dizzying, it tasted surprisingly sweet - her lip gloss, no doubt. And neither of them knew how long it might have lasted, this culmination of months and months of secret glances, lingering touches, but it was cut short, nevertheless.

A catcall and a forced cough broke them apart, the heat of Paris no longer being the only thing that surrounded them.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at them, her face conveying all the words she wasn’t saying as Chat Noir made all sorts of jokes and puns in the background.

After the duo left, it was a minute or two before either superhero made any sound.

“So,”

“So?”

“Patrol?” Viperion’s voice cracked ever so slightly.

Queen Bee smirked, regaining control much more quickly than he, “Patrol. Come on Rumplesnakeskin, lead the way, it’s the only time you’ll get to,”

He looked at her, “Really? Rumple-SNAKE-skin?” She shrugged, “Anything but Rumple-SNAKE-skin, please,”

The air carried her laughter.

[fnafsecuritybreachrewrite]

Okay so, it’s been a few days. Thought I’d share a bit of my thought process for what I’m writing out right now, beneath the cut if you’d like to read:

Right now I’ve been figuring out the timeline I’m gonna set out on. Most primarily, the game’s timeline, of course, both taking canon things that happen and some new things.

First, I’ve had to do a lot of investigation. I’ve noted that Foxy never seemed to be part of the original Glamrock Crew, that Roxanne was there from the beginning, so that’s something I don’t fully need to worry about. Of course, we might still see some Foxy ;) who knows?

Also! It’s never exactly clarified the exact year the game is taking place in, but it’s somewhere after 2023, I believe. And I think I’ve heard several different places that the month was confirmed as March.

(Just as a note, if I’m wrong about this, please correct me in the ask box! I’d like proof about your sources, though.)

So, timeline so far (pre-game) is kind of loose and needs a lot of filling in, but we have a few main points:

-Mega Pizzaplex opens

-Main cast consists of Freddy Fazbear, Glamrock Bonnie, Glamrock Chica, and Roxanne Wolf

-Vanessa joins staff

-Montgomery Gator is created as a side animatronic

-Glamrock Bonnie disappears

-Montgomery Gator joins the main cast as a permanent Bonnie replacement

-Some time later, main game happens

I really want to expand more on Vanny/Vanessa in this rewrite, so all of that fits in here somewhere on the timeline, but I need to do more research and investigation on any information there might be. Listened to all the CDs recently, too, and I have no idea what’s going on there, so I’ll try to piece that together.

Having a lot of fun, though! I’ll try to give as frequent updates as I can. Feel free to drop in questions in the ask box about anything you think of! Character design, plot ideas, my opinions on different theories, literally anything you can think of, I would love to hear. :)

Anyway. That’s all from me!

[arazialotis]

Long Distance

Pairing: Dean × Reader

Word Count: Around 1700

Summary: Dean and Y/N have been separated during the holidays due to a string of hunts but Dean has a thought to make the distance seem not so far apart.

Warnings: Language, General SPN spooky stuff

This is purely just for writing and wasting my time as hobby. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

-----

Nights came early this time of year, each day growing darker a little earlier. It was hard to fight off the fatigue that crept in every passing moment. Even harder so with Dean out of town on another string of hunts. You sat in the picture window curled up in a fuzzy blanket with a warm cup of tea and a new book. Though you had a corner lamp turned on, the Christmas lights outside bounced off the white snow, illuminating the world and keeping the dark at bay. 

Your phone had occasionally been buzzing as Dean updated you on his progress in a new town. You did what you could to not worry, to have faith, but each day he was gone you needed distractions to keep your mind off it. And of course, communication. The longer he went without an update, the more your stomach turned. 

Though you were entranced with the novel, methodically flipping pages and on the edge of your seat, as soon as the phone sounded, you threw the book down only focusing on him. 

You answered with a pant of excitement. “Hey babe.” 

Dean’s smile practically shined through the receiver. “Evenin’ Y/N. Man it's good to hear your voice.” 

“Yours too.” You echoed setting your tea down on the ledge as you started pacing the floor. “How’s the first day been?”

“Ah, you know, just getting settled and the feel for things. Wish I had your mind here to sort things out but this has been a long stretch, it’s starting to drag. It was good for you to stay home.” He paused waiting for a reply. “This’ll be the last one, promise.” 

“Don’t say that.” You chided knowing fully well he easily broke these promises. “You are doing good work. If you need to keep going, that’s alright. Just promise me you’ll come home eventually.” “You know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“And besides.” You sighed. “I’m still here virtually, put me together the case details tonight and I’ll scour over them.”

Dean’s blush heated up the air around you as he shamefully admitted. “I already sent them to Sam.” 

“Ugh! What? God Da…” Dean’s chuckle cut you off. You rubbed your brow reminding yourself it wasn’t a competition. “I want to help too.” You whined. 

“Okay, okay.” His voice faded. “I’m sending them now.” 

You looked at your phone waiting for the email to come through. A few moments passed and it eventually did. He had sent over a few news articles, pdfs, and a word doc of his own notes. 

“Hmmm… it’s definitely a werewolf.” You teased. “Shut up.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid enough to get stumped by an oversized rabid poodle.” 

“I’ll shoot you some real ideas by tomorrow at the latest.”

 “Don’t feel rushed, I got some pretty good leads to follow up on tomorrow.” He assured. “Alright, enough work talk. What about you? How was Thanksgiving?” 

“I mean, it wasn’t the same without you and everyone else. But uh, I still tried to make the most of it. Brussels, beans, wild rice, potatoes…” You listed. “Mashed?” Dean interrupted. 

“Pfft. Of course. Cranberries. Oh, I did a cornish hen cause like, what the fuck am I going to do with a whole turkey? I already have enough leftovers to last me ‘til Christmas. Tell me you had something more than deli meat turkey.”

“Don’t worry about me babe.” He lightly chuckled. “Denny’s got me covered.” 

“Dean.” You scolded.

“Pie? Please tell me you had pie.” He begged. 

“No way I’m having pie without you.”  

“But.. But… Thanksgiving.” Dean pouted. 

You giggled at his adorable antics. “There’s one waiting in the freezer for when you get back.” “Yes! Cherry?” He pleaded. 

“Of course…” You giggled together until a knock sounded at the door. “Hey, hold on a sec.” 

“What is it?” Dean’s voice grew concerned. He heard the door open, a soft thank you, and the door closing before a bit of rustling. “Oh, nothing.” You fiddled with the box and the phone. “Just looks like a package for you.” Dean licked his lips with anticipation. “Why don’t you go ahead and open it for me?” You wrinkled your nose, unsure if you wanted to. “Really?” 

“I’m sure.” 

You grabbed a kitchen knife to hack away at the tape. Dean sat down on the motel bed anxiously waiting for you to find what was inside. 

“It’s um… it’s.” You pulled it out further inspecting it. “It’s a lamp?” 

Dean grinned ear to ear waiting for you to figure it out. “A long distance lamp? What?” “I found it online. You have one and I have one.” He explained. “I felt bad the last hunt with the bad reception. My lamp will light up when you touch it and vice versa.” 

“What?” You squealed. 

“Yeah. It’s an early Christmas gift.” Your heart melted.  “Go plug it in.” He ordered before you could respond. 

“Dean…” His thoughtfulness nearly brought you to tears. “Go!” He repeated before you got too sappy. 

After a few minutes of him guiding you through the set up, you were ready to test it out. “Okay, ready?” He asked, his hand hovering over the lamp on his end. 

“Yes.” You sat on the floor staring at the dark lamp. “Nothings happening.” You sighed. “Oh, wait!” It was dim at first but slowly turned into a green glow reminding you of his eyes. “Oh my gosh.”

“Your turn.” You pressed the top of yours sending him a warm purple glow. You could hear his smile over the phone. 

“See, now we can talk to each other even without the phones.” 

“Dean. This is… it’s… thank you.” Was all you could muster to say. “I’ll keep it by my bed so I can say good night and good morning.” “Me too sweetheart.” Dean agreed. “And in case anything happens to my phone or I get stuck in another dead area, you’ll know not to worry.”

The two of you spent another good hour talking; tentatively setting up holiday plans, explaining the unexpected twist in your book, and thrilling him with all the juicy details of exactly what you were going to do to him when he finally did make it home. You read a few more pages before finally calling it a night. Tucked into a bundle of blankets, you reached to your nightstand sending him a final thought of the night. A few moments later came the dim green glow. Though it was just a light, it made you feel as though he was there, his arms wrapped around you making your heart warm. 

When Dean awoke the next morning, the lamp next to him was already glowing purple. He smiled, typical that you would be the first to rise. After a yawn and deep stretch, he sent the thought back to you before going to freshen up and shower. The hot water and steam soothed his sore muscles and the tension he held in his shoulders if only for a brief minute. Towel wrapped around his waist and clean shaven, he came back out to get dressed in a suit for the day only to find the light had not faded. With another chuckle he assumed you must have been on the same schedule and sent another touch back before heading out for the day. 

From the morning, he was in a sprint; talking with the local police department, interviewing witnesses, consoling family members. Dutifully, he kept you updated on his progress hoping to hear back from you soon on any thoughts yet you were quiet. He wondered if he had mixed up your work schedule again. Having gone nonstop throughout the day, he opted for an early dinner back at the hotel room. 

Entering back to the room with his Chinese takeout, he immediately noticed the lamp was still on. He set down his food on the table and pulled out his phone. 

‘The lamp doesn’t need to fully replace the phones.’ He texted you, adding a little laughing emoji hoping you wouldn’t be offended by him calling out your silence today. 

He popped open his laptop and dug into the Mongolian beef hoping to review any ideas you had come up with. But you hadn’t emailed him like you said. It was still early enough in the day, and especially if you had worked, maybe hadn’t had time to get around to it. He pulled up Sam’s email instead, reviewing notes and potential leads. 

An hour had passed and the light still glowed purple. Thinking it must be broken, Dean meandered over to the plug resetting it. The only other explanation would be your hand on top of it consistently which didn’t make any sense. The lamp powered back up and momentarily was dark before the purple hue came through again. 

“This is weird.” Dean muttered to himself. 

He walked back over to the table and grabbed his phone and dialed your number. After two rings, it answered. 

Dean chuckled, thankful to finally have gotten you. “Either these things are malfunctioning or you must really miss me.” He heard a deep breath from the other side of the line. 

“Y/N?” His voice dropped. “Sweetheart, are you there?” A sinister voice crackled on the other end. “It’s been a long time Dean.” 

Dean’s heart dropped to his stomach. Panic and anger rose to his chest. It was a voice he could never forget. “Alastair.” 

“Now I was hoping to find you home when I stopped by but this pretty little lady said you were out on business.” Alastair's voice delightfully slithered. 

His jaw clenched. “If you’ve touched a single hair on her head, I swear to God…” Dean spat. 

Amusement rose into laughter. “What makes you assume I could harm such a delicate creature. Her neck as easy to snap as a sparrow's."

“You better pray that's not what I find when I get back.” Dean threatened already furiously packing his bag. 

“Its not her I want, it’s you.” Alastair clarified. “But I guess that all depends on how long you take getting back home Dean. I might become bored.” 

-----

TAGS:

Forevers: @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @jotink78@blushingdean @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21@carryonmyswansong @atc74 @superapplepie @cassieraider@adaliamalfoy @iwriteaboutdean @spnbaby-67@monkeymcpoopoo @adoptdontshoppets @maddiepants@onceuponathreetwoone @thisismysecrethappyplace

Dean x Reader: @akshi8278 @boxywrites @its-not-a-tulpa @tacklesackles @aubreystilinski @iamabeautifulperson18@jerkbitchidjitassbutt @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @ria132love​

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams  - Chapter 7

Hello everyone.

I have a day off so the update to day is an early one. The reason I am updating basically daily is that this story just came to me and I knew exactly what i wanted to write. The chapters come easily and I don't think I ever written this easily. Ever. I hope to be able to post regularly.

So, chapter 7, things move a bit more. Rowan tells her his idea to make her happy again and they get a bit closer. Elias shows up and he and Rowan have a stand off. If we were in a fantasy, Aelin would be calling them both "overprotective fae bastards."

There is angst and I am sorry about that. Aelin is having a hard time. But things are improving soon. I promise.

I hope you will enjoy this chapter.

A big, massive, gigantic virtual hug and thank you to everyone who liked the story or reblogged it. Thank you all so very much. And to everyone is reading only... thank you to you too <3

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

A couple of days had passed and Aelin kept herself as busy as possible and went to visit again some of the places that were becoming her favourite sites. That day she was taking another day off from gallivanting around the island and was now on her way to Rowan. She had finished the book and she had to discuss it with him. And that special aspect of their complex relationship made her happy. But first of all coffee and breakfast. With the confidence of a local she walked along the streets and went straight to Maeve’s. Once in she noticed it was quite busy, but the woman had time for he and greeted her warmly and with a soft smile. “Good morning, darling.” The woman squeezed her in a gentle hug “What can I do for you?” “Could I please have two coffees to go and…” she looked at the counter full of fresh food. Her mouth watering “Does Rowan like apple turnovers? I am bringing breakfast to him.” “Alas, my nephew does not like sweet food.” “He what?” The shock clear on Aelin’s face. Maeve grabbed a small box from the counter behind her “I know. He is strange. I made him some of the oatmeal biscuits he loves. It took me a while to perfect the recipe but he will eat these.” Aelin grabbed the container and placed it in her backpack, then grabbed the coffees and the paper bag with the apple turnovers. “Thank you, Maeve.”

She left the coffee shop and began walking toward the alien that was Rowan. How was it possible that he did not like sweet food? He could not be a regular human being. Once at the bookshop she realised her hands were full, and Rowan was looking the other way. With her butt she pushed the door open and a moment later Rowan finally noticed her struggle and was at her side holding the door before she dropped everything and made an epic mess of their breakfast. “You could have said something. I would have helped you carry everything.” “I did try to get your attention but you were staring at the computer.” “Sorry, I was dealing with an order.” “You are an alien, by the way.” In a few steps she closed the distance and walked to the counter where she deposited the two take thermos mugs. “Excuse me?” “How can you not like sweet stuff?” Aelin plopped the container with his biscuits on the counter and then the bag with her breakfast “Your aunt made your favourite biscuits.” “I like to eat healthy foods.” And munched on his own biscuits. She scooted past him and sat on the high chair behind the counter and enjoyed her breakfast and her smile was back and Rowan relaxed a bit. He hadn’t seen her in two days and he was worried after what happened last time she was there. Aelin pointed a finger at him “so boring.” She wiggled her finger at him. Rowan launched forward and pretended to bite her finger. In challenge she stared at him with a poker face and kept eating, closing her eyes with delight. The food was incredible. She moaned quietly and Rowan froze at the sound. Fuck. A different kind of picture popped in his head. The two of them on a bed with far less clothes on and his mouth… He blinked the image away and forced himself to rid his brain of that picture. He coughed gently “Choked on coffee, sorry.” He lied shamelessly. She would have killed him if she had known where his mind had gone. Hey Aelin, I know we just became friends, but I just imagined you naked on my bed and my head between your legs. Still fancy being my buddy? He cleared his voice again “I was thinking…” Aelin stopped drinking her coffee and looked at him “You know that is dangerous for you, right?” He glared at her and continued “Would you like to… I thought that maybe…” he was struggling to find the way to suggest to her the idea he had thought about last time he had seen her. Why was he so bad at this? “The shop… you could, work with me. If you want.” He clarified quite quickly “It’s just an offer. You love books, you have a knack for displays,” and he pointed at her table “and you might like the money too…I can't pay you like a doctor but, it's just the two of us, thus the pay is quite decent and life on the islands is cheap." Aelin liked the idea. Having an income would help a lot. She had savings but they were starting to take a hit. She had even bought a car after returning the rental. And he was right, life on the islands was indeed much cheaper. She was so used to the astronomical price in London. “Are you asking me to work here?” He could see the joy in her eyes and the view took his breath away. “Yeah… and I sucked at it.” Aelin deposited her mug on the desk and then threw her arms around his neck and squealed in delight “Of course.” Then she quickly moved away and began jumping behind the counter “I will be working in a bookstore. Do I get staff discount?” “You can get a staff discount.” He nodded and Aelin smiled again. But a part of Rowan was terrified. Last time he had another person working in the shop it did not end well. He tucked the sadness away and convinced that this time it was different. He and Aelin were just friends. She was not interested in him that way, plus she had the other guy and probably it was for the better. He breathed deeply and regained focus. He left the counter and went to his back office. When he got back he had a bundle in his hands “I have been thinking about this for a few days now and I got you a t-shirt to work here.” “Mine.” Said Aelin grabbing the t-shirt and disappearing to the staff toilet to get changed. She came back a few minutes later grinning “How do I look?” She walked to him swayed her hips in a sensual way that made Rowan sweat “Perfect. Now get that box and start unpacking.” “Yes, sir.” Aelin produced a military salute and went back to work. The two worked in silence for a few hours. Aelin unpacking, checking the deliveries and arranging some of the display. Rowan at the counter working on his computer on paperwork. They had a busy morning and Aelin had a lot of fun helping the customers giving time to Rowan to do his stuff. They even had a few groups of tourists in an Aelin gave her loads of suggestions. She was giddy. Again that feeling of lightness in her soul she hadn’t felt in ages. On her knees she was rearranging the fiction section and stopped to look at a book that sounded quite interesting “Have you read this?” She asked him, waving the books in his direction. Rowan joined her and kneeled in front of her, far too close for comfort. He took the book from her hands and looked at it. Aelin in the meantime stared at him transfixed and a small smiled appeared on her face. She wanted to run her hand in his hair. She wanted to taste if his lips were as soft as she imagined them. And his hands. She stared at his hands. Lysandra’s comment popped in her head and she pushed it away. She was at work. Not appropriate. “Spaceship Rowan to Aelin, are you there?” Fuck. Did he notice her staring at him like a moron? “Sorry, away with the fairies.” “I said that this is a good one.” “Good.” She regained control of herself and placed the book on the side on the floor “I’ll give it a go.” In that instant the door opened and they both looked up and Aelin gasped. Elias just entered the shop, then he looked at her close proximity with Rowan, and gave him a hard stare.

Rowan stood quickly “Hello.” He said quite icily. “Hi Elias.” That was all she could manage. Her heart was racing madly in her heart. “My meeting finished early. So I went for coffee, passed in front of here and saw you.” He noticed her uniform “In that.” “Oh yeah. I started working here.” “Since when?” “Since about two hours ago.” “Oh.” That’s all he said. A strange emotion flashed in his eyes. Was Elias mad at her? Was that jealousy? “I don’t have meeting until later in the afternoon. Fancy going for a ride?” And he uttered the words while staring at Rowan in a clear challenge to the man at Aelin’s side. Aelin turned to Rowan. He nodded and placed a hand on her lower back in an almost proprietary gesture and Elias noticed the gesture. “You can go. I got all my paperwork done this morning, thanks to you. I man the fort for the afternoon. Go, have fun.” There was a softness in his words she never felt from him. He jerked his head “Go.” “Are you sure?” “Positive.” with his hand on her back he pushed her away from him. “I’ll se you tomorrow, I guess?” Rowan gave her a wonderful warm smile. Then Elias held out a hand to her and she timidly took it “Ready to go?” “My backpack.” She collected her belongings and she joined the man. One last look at Rowan and she followed Elias out, feeling guilty. They went to his car and he started driving. Both in silence. They were on the road, in the countryside outside Stornoway when she finally broke the silence “You are mad.” “I am not.” His tone told her otherwise. Aelin scoffed “Yes you are. You are gripping the steering wheel so hard that your knuckles are almost white.” He realised his mistake and released the grip a bit. “Most importantly. You are mad at me.” “Why were you working with him? I thought you were a doctor.” He was definitely spoiling for a fight. She looked outside the window and stared at the rolling landscape and tried to soothe the pain in her soul. “So what? Does that mean I can’t work in a bookshop?” “You can work wherever you want, okay?” And his anger came back. “It just seems a waste.” Aelin’s head whipped in his direction and flashed him a deadly glare “You what?” Her tone matched his in terms of nastiness. “All I am saying is that it sounds like you were this awesome doctor down in London and now you are here, in this small town, playing bookseller. Damn it, Aelin. Dream bigger.” A surge of savage anger rushed through her “Stop the car.” When he did not comply she shouted again “Stop the fucking car, Elias.” Worried by her tone, he pulled over in a safe place and she stormed out as soon as the car was stopped. She slammed the door and moved to the front of the car, meeting him “How dare you.” She growled at him “How fucking dare you to tell me what to do with my life. Dream big?” She pushed him on his chest “I dreamt big my entire fucking life. I had a goal. And that goal has been taken from me in the most hurtful way possible, so don’t you dare.” She sat on the hood and refused to look at him “I gave my life to my job. Every single fucking day of my life.” She said through gritted teeth “And it probably even costed me my marriage. I gave everything.” She was breathing hard and she knew a panic attack was coming. She had a few in the past few days. And the thing scared the hell out of her. Last time she suffered from panic attacks was when she was an intern. That’s how messed up her life was just now. She tucked her arms around her waist, closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. “I am sorry, I didn’t…” he was in front of her and there was deep sadness in his eyes. “I am an idiot. I am sorry, Aelin.” She started crying as well. She was struggling to breath and when she tried to pull away from the car hood, Elias had the scare of his life when she collapsed on her knees “Shit, Aelin.” She was crying and hyperventilating at the same time. Her tears now turned into full ugly sobs. He moved closer but Aelin pushed him away “Don’t touch me.” He ignored her and hugged her. She fought him for a moment but then she she gave up to his embrace. Elias felt her shaking. “I can’t breathe…” her voice was shaky and he recognised the telltales of a panic attack. He lifted her chin “Look at me.” And she did “Breath in… then breath out. In.. and out…” He caressed her head trying to give her some comfort after he was the one who caused all of this. She did just that for a few minutes. “How are you feeling?” “Dizzy and about to be sick.” She jumped up and run at the side of the road and hurled. Elias stared at her with worry not knowing wether his proximity would help or make things worse. Aelin leaned on the car exhausted. She was still shaking but he breathing was slowly going back to normal but she still felt very dizzy. Probably from all the hyperventilating. Damn she was a doctor she should be able to handle her panic attacks better. But in the past few days they have been quite bad. And that did nothing to lower her stress levels. She was almost at the breaking point. She turned toward Elias and a wave of dizziness hit her. He noticed her sway on her feet and a moment later he was at her side “Hey…” his arms went around her “Shhh… hold on to me.” He felt her arms loosely wrap around his back. “I am taking you home.” “I am fine.” She added stubbornly, pushing away from him to prove that she was okay. But she wasn’t. When she swayed another time, Elias lifted her in his arms and opened the passenger door “We are going home. You need to rest. Panic attacks this bad can leave you exhausted for a while.” He got back in the car and began driving back into town. Fifteen minutes later he was back at the marina in their usual car park. “Hey, baby…” she gently nudged her awake “We are back.” Aelin woke up and looked at him and then focused her eyes on the area around her. She went to open the door but Elias’ hand was on hers “Let me drive you home, please.” “I can walk.” Her voice told him otherwise. “Aelin, please.” Then he smiled and lifted his hands “I’ll keep them to myself. I promise. I just want to see you home safely. You gave me a fright.” She sat back and gave in. “Fine. I live on Newton st. The only light blue cottage there.” He replied with a smile and she leaned back. Five minutes later they arrived in front of her cottage. He parked along the pavement and left the car, walked in front of it and in a matter of seconds he was at her side holding the door open for her “M’lady…” and bowed. Aelin stood and still felt a bit dizzy, something he did notice so he followed her. In front of the door, Aelin hesitated “Come in. We had no lunch and you must be famished.” “You don’t have to cook for me.” Aelin did her best to give him a weak smile “I have some Indian leftovers, if you are not too fussy.” “Which one did you use?” “The one along the main road to Lews castle. Apparently that is the best one in town.” “That is the best one.” They entered the room. He noticed her removing her shoes and he did the same. “Kitchen is on the right.” She directed him, her voice filled with exhaustion. “Do you want some as well?” Aelin shook her head, “I’ll just have some chamomile tea.” She left him in the living room and made her way to her bedroom upstairs. She came back a few minutes later in her pyjama. Elias was in the living room. A plate full of food on the coffee table a glass of water and a mug of steaming chamomile for her. “A cookie monster pyjama.” He laughed “You are the woman of my dreams.” She lifted her leg, wiggled her toes showing off her Calvin and Hobbes socks. “You are bloody perfect, you know?” She ignored the comment “Is the food still good?” “Oh yeah. I usually buy a lot from them and polish it off the next day and it’s always still tasty. Not my first time.” He turned to her and she looked exhausted and he felt deep worry “I am sorry for what I said.” She leaned heavily against the back of the sofa “Not today, Elias, I don’t have the mental strength right now.” “You should go to bed.” “The chamomile usually helps me sleep.” She took a sip and tasted something sweet “Did you put honey in it?” “Yeah, that’s how my mom used to make it for me when I was little. It tastes amazing.” Aelin took another sip and hummed in pleasure. “Sweet to perfection.” “Get a room you two.” Slowly she leaned on his shoulder. He shifted his position a bit so that she could lean a bit more comfortably against him. Slowly he placed the empty plate on the coffee table and leaned back. One arm went around her back and pulled her closer. With the other he removed a stray lock of hair from her face. Aelin continued sipping her tea but both stayed in silence for a while. She was still mad at him for what he had said, but she had no strength to fight. So, she just gave up and enjoyed his presence beside her. “I wanted to be an archaeologist when I was little.” He started telling her, hoping to distract her from her thoughts “I had watched Indiana Jones a bit too much I guess. But also, my parent’s house was near Callanish as well. They live about ten minutes form my current house.” The hand around her shoulder started caressing her hair “My dad used to take me and my brother to the stones almost on a daily basis and tell us all the myths and legends. And that’s when the obsession started.” “That place is awesome.” “My brother loved the legends but he was in the firefighter phase.” He explained “And by the way he actually is a firefighter. He is the captain of his unit.” “No way.” Elias nodded “I, on the other hand I started using our garden to dig holes. I knew that was an area rich in settlements remains and I was adamant our garden contained an archeological treasure. I destroyed my mum’s garden.” And he laughed “When I was in high school I did manage to get a placement with some guys working on digs on Shetland, the islands in the very, very north of Scotland. They have some amazing Viking stuff. It’s mind-blowing. Anyway…” he stopped when he felt he hand on his knee “I spent a month working on the remains of a Viking longhouse. It was epic.” “It sounds like. I love Vikings.” “Then I came back home, went back to school and one of my teachers destroyed my dream of becoming an archaeologist. She told me that I was going to waste my time. She one was of those who believe only scientific careers actually mattered. Not a nice woman. But I was young and I listened to her. So I took engineering.” She squeezed his knee “Med school is just as a nightmare as they paint it. Your social life disappears. And once you are an intern… sleep becomes a luxury as well. That’s when the panic attacks started. My stress levels were off the roof. Too much coffee, lack of sleep, infinite hours. By the time I finished I was a wreck. I choose my specialisation and worked hard every day of my life. Then a year ago everything went to shit.” “You said you were married.” Aelin nodded “We met at the hospital. He is a police officer. I had been called in the A&E for a consult on a police officer who had been injured pretty badly in the line of duty in a very seriously deprived part of London. The officer was trying to stop a case of domestic abuse. He almost got killed in the process. Chaol, my ex, was his partner. That’s when we met. Seeing the police in an A&E was not unusual. And I used to do a lot of rotations there as well if I was not in surgery. Anyway, Chaol once brought me a cup of coffee, we started chatting and we hit it off. Four years later we married. Five more and I gave him divorce papers.” He pulled even closer and kissed the top of her head “Do you regret the divorce?” “Hell no, he had it coming. No… no…” she grabbed her mug again “But it just not easy to ignore nine years spent with someone, especially when eight of those years had been great.” “I imagine you can’t.” Elias then stood and cleared up his dishes. By the time he washed everything, she had fallen asleep on the sofa. Gently he lifted her in his arms and walked upstairs looking for the bedroom. He put her to bed and covered her with the blankets. He found a notepad and scribbled down a note for her

You fell asleep while I was doing the dishes. That should have been me :) Hope you and cookie monster had a nice slumber, my princess. I’ll text you tomorrow to check that you are okay. I have a crazy day at work tomorrow so no adventure. Please, take it easy.

Good night, Elias.

He then got back downstairs, grabbed the keys from a tray on a shelf, left the house, locked the door and pushed the keys through the letterbox. Once outside he looked up at her bedroom door and smiled. He was mad about her. He’d move the world for one of her smiles.

[evesbeve]

Hey there, you said your ask box was open for Justin Min's whole thing? I guess I just slept through the whole thing, honestly - could you just go over a gist of everything that happened? I get that it seems like a PR team didn't know how to use twitter (which, mood) and f-ed things up for him, but what were they "cleaning up" in the first place, who's Anna what did they do that warranted such a bizarre thread from the PR team, etc...? 😳

Hey! Okay so this is going to be a lot, so buckle up.

Right off the bat, I just want to say that Justin isn’t cancelled. The situation has been mostly resolved right now (more on that later).

So around a week ago, Justin Min started deleting his replies to fans. Depending on whether you’re on Twitter or not, you might know that Justin is one of the most interactive people of the cast. He knows a lot of fans by name, he has inside jokes with us, and he just interacts a lot with his fanbase. So you can imagine why him suddenly starting to delete his replies was a bit upsetting. There was nothing we could do about it though.

And suddenly, two days ago, Justin deactivated his account out of nowhere, which caused all kinds of drama to go down.

People started pointing the finger at specific accounts saying it was their fault that Justin deactivated (don’t even get me started on that logic; why a grown-ass adult deactivate because of a few teenagers is above me, it literally made no sense), even sending death threats. Others suspected that he got suspended because Twitter’s algorithm saw all these tweets get deleted and was like “welp, bot time.” Long story short, lots of misinformation was going around.

And then out of the blue, Justin’s account was reactivated, and he made a thread directed at Anna.

Now, who is Anna? Anna is a stan on twitter, whose @ I won’t be sharing for privacy, but here’s how they’re relevant in this:

Remember when I mentioned the inside jokes? Well, one of them was between a fan called Matt and Justin. Matt kept commenting on Justin’s tweets asking him to say trans rights. On the one year anniversary of Matt asking Justin to say trans rights, Justin finally said it. Then, Matt made a poll asking other stans what he should have Justin say next, and lesbian rights won.

Around a month ago, Matt replied to one of Justin’s tweets, and Justin responded with something along the lines of “haha, i know this is just an attempt to get me to say lesbian rights,” referencing the inside joke. People started commenting that the way he phrased it was a bit :/ so then he replied to his own tweet with something like “well, i’ll delete this before i get cancelled,” and that’s when things spiraled.

[id: Justin Min’s tweet #1: i see that you are trying to butter me up to say lesbian rights, nice try, matt. nice try.

Justin Min’s tweet #2: oh, here we go. this is an inside joke between myself and matt, if you’ve been a part o fthis fandom for more than a few weeks. but alas, i will have to delete this now before i’m cancelled by the end of the day. keep loving, everyone.]

Lesbians get spoken over and looked down upon not only by straight people, but also the LGBT community. So when Justin tweeted that, lesbians were like “this sounds as if you care more about your own self image rather than our community.” Then, non-lesbians got involved and started either a) calling Justin lesbophobic (which lesbians never did) or b) blindly defending Justin and saying he did nothing wrong.

(Side note: I am not a lesbian, and I’m not trying to speak over lesbians in this situation. But I did talk about this to some of my friends who are lesbians, and they told me that what Justin did wasn’t as big of a deal as Twitter made it out to be. These are their words, not mine. All I know is that it was definitely not bad-intentioned, just a huge misunderstanding.)

Anyway, Anna made a thread explaining to Justin why him defending himself came out as harmful towards the lesbian community, and then Justin apologised and that was it.

Which brings us back to yesterday (26/9/2020).

Everyone is freaking out, posting misinformation, panicking. I don’t exactly,,, know how, but the #justinminisoverparty hashtag started being used for actual hate towards Justin for deactivating, and some people (including Anna, though I think their tweet was in the context of a joke? please take this with a grain of salt though. update: it was in the context of a joke) mentioned that Justin is a lesbophobe.

A few hours later, Justin reactivated his account, tagged Anna, and said this (though it was actually his PR team, more on that later):

[id: Justin’s Tweet: @ [redacted] quickly jumping back on here from my twt break because i’m receiving messages that you’re continuing to spread misinformation, so i want to clarify.]

[id: Justin’s Tweets: 1. all of my interactions with you were deleted because of the need to set clear boundaries due to the fact that your incessant messages and replies from multiple accounts over the last several months were veering into stalking/harassment.

2. for someone who appears to pride themselves on reminding their friends/followers on a daily basis to be careful of the language they use on this app, you seem to be fine with flippantly labeling someone as homophobic/lesbophobic as if they’re cute little adjectives to give to someone, not realizing that such labels have real-life consequences.]

[id: Justin’s Tweets: 3. also noting here than in your original thread, you stated that you neither considered me nor my words to actually be lesbophobic, so a bit confused as to why your story has suddenly changed.

4. i realize you’re young, so i’m genuinely hoping you use this opportunity to learn and grow andbe a little more mindful the next time you decide to tweet.]

The next twenty minutes were pure chaos. Justin deactivated again, everyone started freaking out because that was very out of character for him. People were cancelling him because this could have easily been resolved in DMs, or tweeted without the mention of Anna (a minor) from a mainstream Twitter account.

And then, Justin Min DMed another fan on Instagram (her name is Em) about the situation.

Who is Em? For starters, I’d like to say that I personally know Em and that she’s one of my best friends. I’ve known her for more than a year now, and I can personally vouch for her. Everything that she posted is 100% true (if you want the thread where she posts proof of the DMs, please send me a different ask because I’m scared tumblr will not post this in the tag if I include it here).

The reason Justin DMed her out of all people is because he also kinda knows her? As I mentioned, Justin interacts with us on Twitter a lot, and Em is the one person he’s responded to the most, so he knows who she is. (He’s tagged her more times than other cast members, at least before all his tweets were deleted by his PR team.)

Anyway, this is what Em tweeted:

[id: Em’s tweets: please read this !!!

justin dmed me on instagram and basically the gist of it is that he hired a pr team and they tweeted the thread at anna without knowing everyone could see it. all of the tweets being deleted/ him deactivating was also them.]

Below is the image Em attached to the tweet:

[id: Justin’s DM to Em: hey. this is justin. i’m just hearing about what’s happening on twitter right now. for context, i was asked to work with a team of people to “clean up” my twitter in the past few weeks. they’ve taken the liberty of deleting a bunch of my responses and posts in order to safeguard me (whatever that means) as well as deactivating my account to comb through other things.i believe they accidentally sent anna a message and mistakenly believed the function for her to comment only would mean that she would be the only one to see it as well. needless to say, i’m no longer working with this team and want to personally apologize to her. do you know any way i can get into contact with her?]

And then, in a follow-up tweet:

[id: Em’s text at Justin: sorry for dming you again. is there any other way i can help? i just feel really bad about this whole thing and i know how quickly this stuff can spread if it’s not taken care of

Justin’s text: i mean, i guess you can share the information i’ve given you? it’ll take a bit of time for me to take back ownership on everything as i sever ties with that team, so maybe the sooner the better people know.

Em’s text: okay ! is it okay if i tweet a screenshot

Justin’s text: sure.]

Then Justin’s account got reactivated an hour ago (almost 24hs after Em’s tweets), and he tweeted this:

[id: Justin’s tweet: hi. it’s me. thank you for all your messages. this has been an incredibly tough week for me on multiple fronts. some things you might already be aware of; many other things you don’t know about.asking for a bit of privacy as i take sometime to unplug. hoping to be back soon.]

And that’s all, I think? There’s lots we don’t know about what happened yet, so please please please try not to spread misinformation. This is a stressful situation for us on Twitter, and especially for Justin, and misinformation going around is the last thing we need right now.

tl;dr: Justin Min hired a PR Team that started deleting all of his tweets and deactivated his account. Misinformation started spreading, people started cancelling Justin for no reason. The PR Team decided to respond to Anna, made the response public, deactivated again. Justin DMed Em and explained the situation, and an hour ago, he reactivated and said he’s taking a small break to sort things out.

If anyone has any other questions/clarifications, my askbox is open! Hope this shed some light on the situation <3

UPDATE 28/9/2020: Justin has DMed and apologised to Anna for the situation, and Anna has accepted the apology. Anna posted all of it on their account, but again, if you want a link, send me an ask!

[wienerbarnes]

Agent 51

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,525

Warnings: some being sad feelings but otherwise none!

A/N: hehehe my plan all along 

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

“This contains your new passport, identification cards, fingerprints, and file with all of your medical and personal information. Memorize it. And don’t forget it. Around the tower you will be referred to as Agent 51 and you will answer only to Agent 51. You will under no circumstance use your real name, and your new teammates won’t either. Any questions?”

Nick Fury isn’t as intimidating as he was made out to be. He’s just tall, nothing special.

“How far do the numbers go?” You ask, eyes trained on the sealed bag with the documents detailing your ‘life’.

The clothes you wear feel foreign on your body; a black long sleeve cotton shirt with Avengers logo on the breast and thick black leggings to match. What you would do for a cardigan or tasteful belt or those green platforms you got or just anything other than black.

“Excuse me?” Fury’s voice is firm and almost angry sounding at the question. Even though he literally asked for any questions.

“I’m 51. How far do the numbers go? Is there a limit? Or do they just keep going forever? Like is there an Agent 6,000?” You meet his eyes, determined to let him know that you don’t find him scary in the slightest. Your posture is straight and your face is serious as you clarify your question. If they’re making me stay here, they’re certainly not going to get the nice me.

Your eyes flicker to Bucky who stands to the right of Fury when he attempts to disguise his laugh with a clearing of his throat, but your face stays unchanging.

“Sergeant, why don’t you escort your new teammate back to her quarters so she may be acquainted with her new identity.” Fury commands, more than asks.

Your eyes leave Fury’s for only a moment to glance at Sam and Sharon, who both offer you a reassuring smile of sorts before you turn and follow Bucky out of the office.

Bucky’s walking ahead of you towards the elevators when you pause in the middle of the hallway, staring at the heavy bag in your hands. Bucky’s voice calling your name, your real name, makes you look up at him.

“That’s not my name.” You respond as he makes his way back to you.

“Course it is.” He says as he finally approaches and stands in front of you.

“You’re not supposed to call me that.”

He snatches the bag of folders from your hands, “Well, I’m not calling you this fake name, that’s for sure.” He informs you before walking back towards the elevator once more, calling out a “C’mon” behind him. You follow and speed up your steps to catch up to him. Those are the first words you’ve spoken to him in three days.

The elevator ride and the walk to your room is silent and it’s only when you enter your room and go to close the door behind you when a metal hand stops you.

“What’s wrong with you, what did I do?” He asks and proceeds to push himself in, closing the door behind his back.

“What are you talking about?” You turn and walk to slip off your shoes next to your bed, frustration growing at his questions.

“Why do you seem so upset?”

“Because I’m here!” You spin around and snap at him. He flinches at the raising at your voice, you’ve never raised your voice at him. “This is, like, the second-to-last place I ever wanted to be, and you’re asking me why I’m upset?! I thought you of all people would know what it’s like to be forced to stay somewhere you don’t want to be and then have to work for the people keeping you there.”

His eyebrow twitches and you know that was a low blow, even for you. You turn back around and focus your eyes on a piece of lint on your pillow to try and hold your tears back. Deep breaths, deep breaths.

A hand touches your shoulder and you tense but quickly relax at the unbelievable comfort that comes from the warmth you feel through your shirt. “I’m sorry.” His voice comes closer than you were expecting, and it hits you then how much you missed him over the last three days.

It’s a feeling that’s so deep within you that arises; you want to cry of relief from having him close to you again, having his touch, hearing his voice, him. You’re not sure if you’ve ever felt something like it before, but then again, lately all of the feelings you have towards Bucky have been leaving you confused.

You sigh, “What are you sorry for, Bucky?”

“Maybe if I’d left you alone; if I’d not sought you out and looked for you, you’d still be in your apartment.”

“I’d be dead if you hadn’t come into my life, Bucky.” You reassure him, closing your eyes and feeling guilt overcome you at the thought that he was blaming himself for your sadness.

“I… I’m just- I don’t want to be here, Bucky. I’m not upset with you, I’m upset at the situation.” The lump in your throat is rising faster and faster.

“And- and I just wanna be left alone. For a bit. If-if that’s okay.” You get out without allowing your voice to crack.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course- of course it’s okay. Of course.” He stutters out, hand leaving your shoulder and body moving to gently place the bag of your documents on your desk, before leaving your room without another word, the door quietly shutting behind him.

…

It’s been a week at the tower. You’ve kept completely to yourself, besides a few conversations you have with F.R.I.D.A.Y. It was odd at first, talking to a robot that was recording and tracking not only everything you did, but everything happening at the tower. But it was nice, what she would tell you, anyway. A good amount of your questions were met with, “I’m not authorized to give you that information, Agent” or “You are not of high enough clearance for me to say, Agent”.

She informs you every night when Sam and Sharon, and some lucky agents every once in a while, are eating dinner in the common dining area, but you choose to make your own food and eat alone in your room.

You recognize that they were trying to be as welcoming as possible, and they did you quite the favor of forcing you to be here rather than prison. But it was weird. The barrier between Avenger and inmate turned to Avenger and escaped criminal and now Avenger and Agent, all in such a short period of time. You just weren’t comfortable yet.

You’ve spent all of your time in your room. Minus the one time you ventured out to the library that F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed you of where you gathered two or three books to occupy your time, considering there hasn’t been any missions or cases requiring your abilities.

The only other time you’ve left your room is now, when the A.I. told you of the request for you to head to the medical bay, where all of your medical information was updated. You hadn’t had a proper check up in about a decade, so the nurse, that seemed more like an intern in scrubs, took quite a lot of blood.

Not that blood has ever really bothered you anyway.

Approaching your room and turning the knob, you find something blocking the other side, forcing you to push harder to get the door open enough to get inside. About six large boxes stacked together is what you find blocking your entrance.

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Who brought these boxes in here?” You question, going to grab the scissors from your desk and opening them wide in order to tear open the line of tape sealing them closed.

“Sergeant Barnes did, Agent.”

Even more confusion.

You finally pop the box open to see - your stuff!

You let out a gasp - the blue tapestry you had draping over that card table, your clothes, your shoes, your bags, your earrings, everything! You quickly open the other boxes and see your fluffy blankets, your plants wrapped neatly in paper, even your mugs and plates you had in your cupboards. Your lufa, your robe, your scrunchies, everything is here!

You have to blink away teary eyes due to the absolute joy and surprise you feel right now. Even a few giggles escape you from contentment.

You pause in your inner celebration and backtrack to what you just heard. Sergeant Barnes did. Bucky brought your stuff. Bucky went to your apartment with boxes, packaged all your stuff, including taking the time to wrap anything fragile in paper, and then drove all the way here to drop it off to you, After you said you missed it a couple of days ago when you last saw him.

A smile grows on your face, and you’ve got to give it to him.

He’s trying. So you will, too.