#and the rest of his adventuring party are on uh

[honkshoo-zzz]

been doodling more lately, missed my kids ;W;

[favefandomimagines]

The Alchemy (j.m)

Request: @mrslestappen “May I request ( shy!Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank ) pleaseeeeee, where she has been friends with the boys just like Kie, (Kie, her and Sarah were the trio of friends) and after they reconciled she is super happy because she has her two best friends back. And let's just say JJ has a soft spot for her, even though she's a kook he's always taken care of her. And they have matching necklaces (the shark tooth one, let's just say that when he got his he also created hers and they have always had matching necklaces) + kind of obsessed with her (in a nice way) and let's say because she's always been with the guys she's never really been in a relationship so imagine the reaction JJ would have if she tells him she wants him to be her first kiss (first kiss is soft, second one is hot/possesive poor JJ will devour her, because only he knows how long he waited) and the rest I'll leave it up to you. (In my head this sounded better sorry)”

Summary: she always was going to pick him, he just needed to show her.

JJ Maybank didn't think he'd ever like a Kook. Hell, he didn’t think he’d ever even tolerate one. The Kooks were the people who had everything he and the other Pogues didn’t.

They were the rich kids on the other side of the island, the ones with trust funds, yachts, and pristine lives. JJ had seen enough of their type to last a lifetime, and he was pretty sure the feeling was mutual.

Except for her.

Her name was Y/N Y/L/N, and she was the only Kook JJ had ever been able to stomach. In fact, he more than just "stomached" her — he adored her.

He couldn't remember when it started, but he was pretty sure it was around the time he realized girls were more than just annoying distractions during surf sessions.

Somewhere between scraped knees on the beach as kids and sharing late-night bonfire confessions, Y/N had become more than just his friend.

She wasn’t like the rest of the Kooks. Y/N might have lived in one of the fanciest houses on Figure Eight, but she didn’t act like it. She hung out with JJ, John B, and Pope since they were kids, running wild through the marshes and crashing parties on the Cut.

Her mom used to be close with John B’s mom before she left, which meant Y/N spent almost as much time in the Chateau as John B himself. She was their bridge between worlds, best friends with Kie and, surprisingly, even got along with Sarah Cameron after their recent reconciliation.

JJ had given her a shark tooth necklace that matched his own back when they were kids, and she had worn it ever since. The necklace was a symbol, a quiet testament to their shared adventures and secrets.

It rested just below her collarbone, a constant reminder that she belonged with the Pogues, even if she didn’t entirely fit into their world.

For the most part, JJ was content just having her around. But sometimes, like right now, with the sun setting over the water and Y/N laughing at something John B had said, he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in his chest that he wanted more. More than just her friendship, more than just stolen glances and the occasional accidental brush of hands.

||

It was one of those hot, sticky Outer Banks afternoons when Y/N came to find him. JJ was at the dock, cleaning up the HMS Pogue, when he saw her walking toward him. She looked like sunshine personified, with her long hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling as if she held the secrets of the universe.

“Hey, JJ,” she greeted, her voice light and carefree, but there was something nervous in the way she bit her lip.

“What’s up, Princess?” he asked, straightening up and wiping his hands on his jeans.

She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her fingers toying with the shark tooth necklace he had given her. “I, uh, need to talk to you about something.”

JJ’s heart sank a little, the teasing grin on his face faltering. Usually, that phrase meant bad news. “What did you do this time? Burn down another country club?”

Y/N rolled her eyes but laughed. “No, JJ, not this time. It’s… it’s about a guy.”

JJ froze. “A guy?” he echoed, feeling like the ground had just shifted beneath him.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice softening. “I… I got asked out on a date.”

JJ’s stomach dropped, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He’d always known this day would come eventually, but he wasn’t prepared for how much it would hurt. “Who?” he managed to ask, trying to keep his voice steady.

“His name’s Trevor. He’s new in town, just moved here from Wilmington,” she explained, her eyes flicking to JJ’s face to gauge his reaction.

He knew the guy — tall, dark hair, probably some rich Kook kid whose family had money to burn. JJ felt the jealousy bubble up, hot and fierce. “And when’s this date supposed to happen?”

“Tomorrow night,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The girl he’d been in love with for years was going on a date with some random guy who had just waltzed into town. “Do you even like this dude?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

“I don’t know yet,” she admitted, looking genuinely conflicted. “But… what if he tries to kiss me?”

JJ’s jaw clenched. “Then tell him to back off,” he snapped, his temper flaring.

Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping. “It’s not that simple, JJ. I’ve never… I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

The admission hung in the air between them, and JJ felt his heart stutter. Y/N, the girl who could light up a room with just her smile, had never had her first kiss. It was almost unfathomable. He swallowed hard, trying to tamp down the tidal wave of emotions crashing over him.

“Y/N…” he began, not sure what to say.

“I know it’s dumb,” she said quickly, looking down at her feet. “But I don’t want to mess it up. What if I’m terrible at it?”

He wanted to laugh because there was no way in hell she’d be bad at anything. “Are you seriously asking me for kissing advice?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and earnest. “Actually… I was hoping you could… you know… be my first kiss.”

JJ’s mind went blank. Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. He stared at her, trying to wrap his head around the idea that the girl he’d been crazy about for years was asking him to be her first kiss. But not because she wanted him in that way — no, it was just so she wouldn’t screw up with some other guy.

“Y/N, are you serious?” he asked, his voice a low rasp.

She nodded, her cheeks turning pink. “I trust you, JJ. I know you won’t make it weird.”

Too late for that, he thought bitterly. But he couldn’t say no to her, not when she was looking at him like that. “Alright,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But if I’m gonna be your first kiss, I’m not gonna half-ass it.”

Her eyes sparkled with gratitude, and she took a step closer to him.

They stood on the dock, the sun casting golden light over the water. JJ’s heart was pounding in his chest as Y/N moved even closer, so close he could feel her breath on his skin. He could see the nervous flutter of her eyelashes, the way her lips parted just slightly.

“Just… close your eyes, okay?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotions he couldn’t quite name.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fluttering shut, her lips trembling ever so slightly. JJ took a deep breath, his hand moving up to gently cup her cheek. His thumb brushed against her skin, and he could feel her shiver under his touch.

Then, with a tenderness he didn’t even know he was capable of, JJ leaned in and kissed her.

It was soft, gentle, the kind of kiss that could be over in the blink of an eye if you weren’t careful. But for JJ, it felt like the world had stopped. Her lips were warm and soft against his, and he could feel the way her fingers clutched at his shirt, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.

When he finally pulled away, they were both breathing hard, their eyes locked.

“How was that?” he asked, his voice barely more than a rasp.

Y/N was staring at him, her eyes wide and dazed. “That was… perfect,” she whispered. But then, as if realizing herself, she shook her head. “But maybe… one more time? Just to make sure I’ve got it?”

JJ’s breath hitched. This time, he didn’t hold back. He kissed her again, harder, more desperate, like he was trying to pour every unsaid word and unspoken feeling into that kiss. His hands cupped her face, Y/N melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair, and he was lost. He was completely and utterly lost in her.

When they finally broke apart, they were both gasping for air. JJ rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face. “Don’t go on that date, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his. And then she smiled, that beautiful, sunlit smile that he loved so much. “Yeah… I think I need to cancel that date,” she said softly.

||

It wasn’t long before the rest of the Pogues found out. Kie was ecstatic, practically tackling Y/N in a hug when she found out, while John B just grinned knowingly. Pope was the most surprised, but even he seemed happy for them.

“Finally!” Kie exclaimed, throwing her arms around JJ and Y/N “I was wondering how long it would take you two to figure it out.”

JJ just grinned, pulling Y/N close to his side. “Better late than never, right?”

The group celebrated their newfound relationship with a bonfire at the beach, laughter and music filling the night air. JJ couldn’t keep his hands off Y/N, whether it was holding her hand or wrapping an arm around her waist. He’d spent so long wanting this, and now that he had it, he wasn’t letting go.

As the night drew to a close, JJ pulled Y/N aside, away from the others. “I’m glad you picked me,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes shining. “I always would have picked you, JJ. I just needed you to show me first.”

He kissed her again, slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that felt like coming home. And for the first time in his life, JJ Maybank felt like he had everything he ever wanted.

The waves crashed around them, the world fading away until it was just the two of them, lost in each other. The Pogues cheered in the background, but JJ didn’t hear any of it.

All he could focus on was the girl in his arms, the girl who had always been more than just a Kook, more than just a friend. She was everything.

And she was his.

[room-surprise]

hi! i was wondering if in dunmeshi, before falin was eaten by the dragon and before present events, laios and his party were earning money for k*lling monsters in the dungeon? i don't understand if someone was paying them, how they were making money and how it worked

I want to write a proper, thorough reply to this with citations to specific references and mentions in the story, but uh, a tree fell on my house so I've been a bit too busy to do that lmao.

BUT, to give an incomplete answer:

Yes, adventurers get paid for work they do inside of the dungeon, or, they just harvest monsters/plants/treasure that they find. The dungeons are a kind of boom town, similar to a gold or silver rush, which means that the entire local economy is based on people trying to extract wealth from the dungeon, since it's dangerous but easy work, anyone can try to do it with very little resources, and the potential for profit is huge.

Someone with almost no money could, potentially, go into the dungeon and walk away with enough money to start a business, or buy a house or a boat. If they don't die. If they're lucky. Desperate people cling to the hope that they will be one of the lucky ones who become insanely wealthy.

Based on things Kui's told us in the manga and the extra materials, we know:

You pay a fee or a toll to be allowed to go into the dungeon. Access is controlled by the local government. Some people avoid this, like Senshi and the orcs since they just live in the dungeon and avoid leaving.

Many people die, give up, or fail to accomplish anything useful in the dungeon. These people probably generate a good, steady income for the island, since they pay fees but don't have to be rewarded. The lure of trying to strike it rich keeps huge hoards of people flowing in steadily. Most money in boom towns is generated by all the people who are trying and failing to get rich buying things from local people (food, supplies, lodging).

When a dungeon first appears, it is full of easy to harvest gold and treasure. "Gold peeling" is how Laios and Falin started out, and it's literally going into the dungeon and peeling gold off of the walls and statues, and taking any easy to transport treasure with you.

Various tasks need to be done in the dungeon to keep it safe, clean and accessible, and all of these result in a person either being paid by the lord of the island, or the person who they have saved. Killing dangerous monsters, finding people who have died and taking their corpses to the resurrection office, reporting changes to the dungeon, discovering new paths, etc.

When gold and treasure that is easy to find starts to run out, people turn primarily to harvesting monsters. They are probably paid a bounty for every monster they can prove they killed (bring back some body part that a monster only has one of, like a tail), and then they can also sell anything else they harvested from the monster in the market (meat, the rest of the hide, horns, teeth, claws.)

You want the dungeon to stay safe with a well-managed monster population to prevent something like Utaya from happening.

But if you kill too many monsters, now that the treasure is gone, there won't be any profit reason for people to go into the dungeon anymore, and your economy will collapse.

So you need to manage the dungeon and keep the monster population high, but not too high. This is what the Shadow Lord was complaining about. He thinks that if they evacuate the dungeon the expensive monsters they are currently harvesting may stop manifesting/spawning/being born, and all that will be left to harvest is mushrooms and slimes, which are not worth a lot of money.

Laios' group had an assignment from the island lord to try and find the giant doors on the 6th floor that nobody had been able to get past. That was what they were trying to do when they ran into the red dragon and Falin got eaten!

Despite everything, at that time Laios' party was the number one team on the island, capable of going the deepest into the dungeon.

Kabru's team is also considered pretty good, despite how often we see them dying - this should tell you how bad many of the teams that go in are! Most of them don't accomplish much or anything... Just like a boom town, where most miners go into debt trying to find gold, and only a few strike it rich.

This is what Rin is talking about in her first appearance, when she scolds Kabru for being too modest around other adventurers. She wants those other people to know that they are not going into the dungeon for profit and that they're not like the rest of them, dream-chasing fools hoping to make a payday.

She's offended anyone would mistake them for people like that, meanwhile Kabru would rather keep their motivations obscure and not advertise that they're in the dungeon on a moral crusade, not a financial one.

It should also be noted that the dungeon has a lot of criminal activity going on inside of it, because it's not well monitored and it's easy to conceal your activities. There's also a population of people who can "no longer live on the surface" for various reasons, such as being wanted criminals, exiles hiding to avoid vigilante justice, people too poor to leave because they wasted all their money trying to get rich and now they can't afford to live on the surface, or leave the island.

Essentially there is a population of homeless people living in the dungeon, eating anything they can scavenge, begging and stealing to stay alive. This could even be part of the taboo on eating monsters in the dungeon - that's something poor and desperate people do, and doing it is seen as a sign of how low Laios' party has fallen.

This is also why Kabru is so worried about the Touden party: their financials are a mess, but they keep going into the dungeon. Why? People think they are good, but maybe they're secretly criminals? Are they on the run from the law? Kabru has no idea, since "they just really love monsters and this is fun" is not a motivation ANYONE ELSE ON EARTH HAS.

The Toudens can't even say "we're monster researchers trying to write a book on monsters." They're just hobbyists, they just like them a lot. Kui tells us that Laios was encouraged to become a monster researcher but the studying was too intense for him.

It would be like finding out someone who works in a coal mine that kills 80% of the miners doesn't actually care about being paid, they just loooove coal and want to be around coal all the time.

[henry7931]

Beach Trip As My Friend’s Uncle

Miguel:

This is by far the best idea Zach and I have ever had! A few weeks ago, my best bud Zach begged his parents to let me come on their family beach trip but unfortunately they wanted to keep it a family trip.

That’s when Zach and I got a little creative. We decided to ask his cool Uncle Derek if I could swap bodies with him for a week. Now Derek isn’t your ordinary uncle, he’s pretty adventurous, single, likes to party, and is always down for some shenanigans. So when we asked if he’s willing to swap with me, he immediately said yes! He seemed to be just as excited to be me since he’s getting out of the family trip all together.

So we all met up that morning at Derek’s place. Zach already told his parents that he’s riding down with Derek. And when I arrived Derek already had a bag packed for me.

We quickly swapped bodies and it felt so cool being so much bigger.

I grinned at Derek in my body who also looked super happy. He pulled me in for a hug which felt so weird, I could have easily picked my body up like it was nothing.

As I hop into Derek’s nice truck, he says to us, “You boys have fun! And doing anything too crazy in my body!”

“Thanks Uncle Derek!” said Zach.

“Yes thanks again Derek, I’ll take good care of your body I promise!”

“Good and hey I packed condoms just in case things get too crazy. Don’t need my body coming back with anything.”

Zach rolls his eyes while I felt a warm sensation in my stomach. It just hit me that not only do I have Derek’s body for a week but I also have control of his massive package.

We get on the road and I pull off Derek’s shirt just to show off his tattooed pecs.

Zach’s sitting next to me so excited and says, “God this is so crazy! I mean look at you dude you’re inside my uncle right now.”

“I know man, this is about to be the best trip ever!”

When we arrive to the resort, Zach and I head to check in. We run into his family. We say our hellos to everyone and I’m surprised by how good of a job I’m doing at pretending to be Derek.

We get our room keys and head up. The room is huge! We even have our own bathrooms along with a balcony.

I put Derek’s bags on the bed and open them up to see what clothes Derek packed for me. But when I get to the bathing suits only two of them are normal ones— the rest are all speedos.

Zach pops in already in his bathing suit and says, “you about ready?”

“Uh no not yet give me a few,” I say to him.

“No rush bro! I’m gonna head down, I’ll see you in a few.”

As soon as Zach walked out of the room, I immediately got naked.

I look at Derek’s nude body, that’s when my eyes focus on the thick long dick that I now control.

I try my best to control my eager to touch it, laying back on the hotel bed. I didn’t want to risk Zach walking but I feel like I only have so much alone time with it.

I look down at Derek’s sexy size 11 feet, they’re beautiful and manly. I trace his fingers along his chest down to his cock and balls.

His dick is already hard, I start to stroke it and it feels amazing. It’s my first I’ve ever jerked off in someone else’s body. And it’s so different from mine.

I sit up and bring Derek’s big foot to my face smelling his toes as I wiggle them. I start licking his foot, still jerking his dick with my other hand.

I feel so close, I knew I was going to bust any minute. I let out a loud powerful grunt, inhaling his sole before cum bursts out all over.

I look over the mess I just made, damn that felt great. I whip some off of his chest and taste it. It taste’s so good.

I clean off his chest with a shower towel and grab one of his speedos.

I take a pic of myself to send to Derek and say, “you only packed speedos?”

I get a response a few minutes later, “well you look sexy in them. Send me more pics 😜”

I feel Derek’s cock start to get hard again from his text. Is he flirting with me?

[chilschuck]

HAVE YOUR CAKE (AND EAT IT TOO).

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + typical fluffy goodness.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 2.3k

✦ happy birthday, chil!!! this is a little rushed because i wanted it out right at midnight, but i hope it turned out alright!! tumblr ate the post as i tried to save it, so lets hope it posts this time! if anything seems out of place or ooc, i’m so sorry, it’s currently late and i just wanted to write some cuteness for him and you guys!!! enjoy!!! <3333

The countdown leading up to this day had you filled with nervous excitement.

Not only was it Chilchuck’s birthday, but the day you decided you’d try to relay just how you felt about him all this time. With sweaty palms you looked at yourself in the mirror, dressed up for his surprise get-together you and the rest of the party had planned. Secretly, you hoped he wouldn’t catch on so fast that it was truly mostly your idea that had started this.

Inhaling one last breath and letting it pass through your chest, you dusted off your outfit you considered the nicest one you had. In a perfect box with sage green wrapping paper, his gift from you sat beautifully on your bed. Putting all the finishing touches on it you could, a ribbon cascades off the top along with a sweet note card with his name in curly letters. A part of you worried it was a bit too much, but for him, you’d find you’d always go above and beyond.

Turning to hold it in your hands, you considered the contents for a moment. Inside was a new pair of gloves you had sewn for him in the coming weeks, along with a favorite ale of his you had managed to purchase for him. It was simple, much more so than the intricate packaging, but you hoped he’d be pleased.

The half-foot had told you his birthday reluctantly, but now that you knew, you made sure you’d never forget. Whether writing it in your notes or pinning a paper on your calendar, there was no way you were going to let it pass by. He deserved so much more than he gave himself, and you made it your duty to ensure he was happy.

In a few minutes everyone would begin showing up, and to keep yourself busy you set the little table in your dining room with all the food you had prepared. Everything you had taken into account from your time adventuring with him, which consisted of his favorites or even things he’s mentioned liking in passing. Slowly but surely you had managed to get him to open up a little, which was a feat you pride yourself on. Because of this, you felt you were closer than you were before. Now it was time to really tie everything together with that metaphorical bow.

A knock at the door had your heart beating excitedly in your chest, and after yelling out a quick, “Coming!” you made your way to open it.

Except… It wasn’t at all who you were expecting. Suddenly you were face to face with the guest of the hour, who had a furrowed brow of concern on his face.

“Everything okay? Marcille told me to come quickly because you needed help with something.” Chilchuck spoke, studying your appearance for a moment. “Uh, did I interrupt something?”

You were going to kill her. Already picturing her mischievous expression at trying to make something happen like out of her romance novels, you gave a brisk sigh.

“Not at all, quite the opposite, actually…” With quick hands you cracked the door, before peeking out the other side. “Can you… Close your eyes and come in?”

Chilchuck looked even more perplexed at your request, before letting out a sound of confusion. Ever trusting you, he put a hand over his eyes and reached his other one out to you to guide him in. So far so good.

“This didn’t turn out how I exactly pictured it, but…” You began, leading him to the dining room where you had decorated for the supposed party that now only contained the two of you. “You can look now.”

As he removed his hand, you jumped beside him in your spot, shouting cheerfully. “Happy Birthday, Chil!”

His eyes widened, taking in the scene in front of him. A table full of food, seemingly his favorites, as well as fresh flowers from your garden. Even streamers were put up around the wall, along with a bottle of wine you only busted out for special occasions.

“Huh? You did all this for me?” Chilchuck muttered, turning to catch your eyes. That sparkle in them, the same one they always had, caused his stomach to erupt with butterflies. Especially with the way you were smiling at him right now.

“Of course I did, you think I’d let you celebrate your birthday cooped up at home?” Your voice was soft, but held true with intent to make this a night worth remembering for him. Chilchuck gave a light laugh, scratching the back of his head for a moment. You really were too good to him.

The half-foot went to study the foods you had set out, before spotting the cake placed sweetly in the middle. It wasn’t very big, about as big as the pan you usually baked with, but even so… Chilchuck swallowed.

“I know you’re not too big on sweets, but you can’t have a birthday without cake, right?” Your voice met his ears, words playful yet with a hint of something he couldn’t quite place. All of this was making him lose his voice, even more so unable to word his feelings than usual.

“It’s great…” He muttered, before turning to you. In his eyes a spark of vulnerability made itself known, and you hoped you weren’t just mistaken.

“I can’t believe you did all this. I feel spoiled.” Chilchuck reached for a cup, sheepish and eager to hide his burning cheeks behind something. All of this matched with your current outfit was making him feel a little weak.

You waved your hands, moving to grab the bottle of wine. “It’s nothing! You deserve stuff like this. Also, there were supposed to be others but I’m guessing they had other plans.” Trailing off, you grumbled the last part to yourself. The wine filled his glass easily, a sight he was always happy to take in.

Along with you. Chilchuck had to busy himself with a drink before he focused too hard on how good your outfit looked tonight, how you did your hair, the way you kept smiling at him… Clearing his throat, he tried to find something to say to fill the silence.

Before he could speak though, you perked up and went to reach for something behind the table. “Oh! I almost forgot, I got you a little something, too.”

He felt like he was going to melt into the floor. All of this to celebrate just another day for him? Sure, he would treat himself a little, but this… It was like you wanted him to dwell too hard on those feelings he’s been keeping at bay.

Setting down his glass, Chilchuck reached out to take the box from you, gaze taking in just how beautifully it was wrapped. Even the bow on top was so much like something you’d do, down to the note with his name written so nicely on it.

“You really didn’t have to.” Your name left him softly, eyes flitting back up to yours. You waved your hands at him again, before giving him that grin that always made him feel hazy.

“I know, but I wanted to. Now open it, I’ve been waiting so long for this.” The laughter that followed was so sweet, and Chilchuck had to distract himself with the ribbon on his gift.

Pulling it gently, he let it fall to his feet in a small pile. Picking at the folds in the paper, he tried to be as careful as he could with it. You noticed this, unable to hold back the giggle that erupted from your throat. “You don’t have to be like that, it’s meant to be ripped.”

Chilchuck ripped into it this time, barking out, “I know that!” Before he could say anything else, he lifted the lid of the box.

Quick to explain your gift, you interrupted his thoughts. “The gloves were something I made to help with your new business and all. The ale was just… A bonus.” Watching him pick up the gloves and study them, you added, “I hope they’re okay.”

He couldn’t even begin to word how he felt at that moment. Not only did you do all of this for him, but you made him a gift and remembered even more about him? You might as well have taken his heart right out of his chest and ran off with it. Gently, he gave a small smile at your words. “It’s more than okay! I still can’t believe all of this. I’m not sure what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything! I’m just glad it’s okay. Here, want me to get you a slice of cake or anything?” Your eagerness to make him happy had his heart race a bit, and Chilchuck couldn’t help but let out a content sigh as he turned the gloves over in his hands. Setting them down back into the box, he met your eyes.

“You’ve done too much. As expected, since I told you and all.” Chilchuck joked, watching as you cut into the baked good you worked so hard on. His hands took the plate from you, the flowery green icing hiding the wedges of chocolate underneath. Taking his fork, he took off a piece from the corner and studied it. “I should’ve known you would’ve gone above and beyond.”

Huffing playfully, you turned to cut yourself a slice of your own. “I spent all that time getting it out of you, and you think I’d just forget?” Taking a bite, you hummed, mulling over the flavor in your mind. “Hm, could’ve turned out a little sweeter, but I guess that’s a good thing, huh?”

Chilchuck brought his own fork to his lips, curious to taste some of your baking again. At no surprise at all, it turned out really light and fluffy, the icing pairing well with the tenderness of the cake. “It’s good. I like how rich it is,” He spoke up through his taste test. You beamed at him, that same smile that made him feel like he had been staring a little too long at the sun.

“I’m glad I was able to do this for you. Sorry it wasn’t very climactic of a surprise.” Chilchuck shook his head at your words, taking another piece of cake on his fork. His next sentence died in his throat at the look on your face, pausing to wait for you to finish.

“In a way, I’m kind of glad it ended up like this. There’s something I wanted to tell you ever since we stopped adventuring.” Setting your plate down for a moment, you bit your lip. Once sure you had his full attention, you continued.

And of course you had his full attention. You always did, and there was no contest for it when it came to you. Yet, the nervousness in his gut made an appearance despite how hard he tried to ignore it.

For some reason, the words never left you. Instead, your eyes were fixed on something on his face. He could practically hear the gears whirring to life in your head.

“Sorry, you’ve got… Right there, hang on.” Your touch, gentle enough to make him nearly jump out of his skin if he was not so tightly wound, trailed along his bottom lip. In the corner of his mouth was a bit of icing, which had somehow made a place there without him noticing. There was a thick tension in the air as you wiped it with your thumb, tongue darting out to wet your own lips.

His mind must be playing tricks on him, as the cake in his hand was suddenly not the sweetest sight in the room. Instead, he felt conflicted thoughts about whether or not he wanted to let you continue your work, or have you stop what you were doing and just kiss him stupid.

Before he could decide on which he preferred more, you leaned in to place a kiss right at that spot, so soft and tender that he barely could register it happened at all. Pulling away, you looked at him through your lashes, a rosy glow on your cheeks.

“What I wanted to say, was—“

Suddenly he was no longer interested in the plate in his hand or the words you were going to speak. Setting down his plate with haste, he pulled you in and slotted his lips against yours. With a vigor he didn’t know he still possessed, he kissed you with need.

This was a better result than you had imagined, reaching for his cheeks to hold him even closer to you. Pulling away only to hurriedly meet his lips again, you both fought off that need for air as much as you could. The taste of buttercream icing and the richness of chocolate was so addicting as you felt him nibble at your bottom lip, allowing him to kiss you even deeper in that moment.

Finally pulling away, you both tried to calm your panting with the realization of what just happened. Before you lost your bravery again, you sputtered out, “I’ve fallen for you.”

Chilchuck couldn’t help but let out an airily laugh for a moment, your words a mirror of his own feelings. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he replied, “I’d hope so after a kiss like that.”

Now you were giggling, your nerves subsiding for a moment at his teasing expression. “Yeah, yeah. Happy birthday, smartass.”

“For the record,” Chilchuck muttered before taking his plate back, an idea forming in his mind. “I… Feel the same. But maybe we should do that again. Just, you know—“

Your hands made home on his cheeks again before pulling him back in for another heated kiss, the cake being forgotten just for another moment.

It was so addicting, the way you let him have his cake and eat it, too.

— banners by @/cafekitsune!! <33

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Let's Be Jolly

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, drinking, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Summary: You are on the hunt for the perfect present but the price is steeper than you expect.

Character: Sam Wilson

Day Twenty-Seven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - who invited them to the holiday party?

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The cushion beside you jostles as something, rather someone, hits your elbow with theirs. You glance over at Sam as he stares across the room, a drink in both hands. He narrows his eyes as he continues to stare, you’d even say glare, at someone? 

“Who invited her?” He mutters. 

“Who?” You ask. 

“Did I say that out loud?” He winces and looks at you, offering a glass of the ‘festive punch’, “you’re right, it’s cranberry.” 

“Raspberry didn’t seem very festive,” you kid. 

“Well, maybe a bucket of merlot would be fitting.” 

“And just as strong,” you pull the glass away from your mouth, “wow.” 

“Zesty?” He asks and you nod emphatically. 

“So,” you swallow completely, “who was invited to your chagrin?” 

“My chagrin? Oh, uh, doesn’t matter,” he shrugs, his shoulders even wider on the couch as he crowds you in your corner. 

“Seems like it does,” you say, “but you don’t have to tell me.” 

“Hm, yeah. I guess... it shouldn’t matter, you know? It was a while ago. A long time actually.” He pauses and tastes the punch. “I shouldn’t care... ooh, you’re right about the punch.” 

“Strong but delicious,” you say, “nice party, huh?” 

“Sure,” he agrees, his eyes once more fixated across the room. 

You follow them and see a group of women. They're all very beautiful. They were dresses in varying shades of red, blue, and even gold. Very festive. 

“My ex,” he huffs. “Yeah, you know, got a few of those and somehow they always seem to find me.” 

“Oh... Oh! That’s awkward,” you giggle nervously. “Wish I could help you there. I don’t really have that problem.” 

“Ha, of course. You’re too sweet for that—shit,” he grimaces and you nearly spill your drink as he nudges you with his elbow. You switch hands as he grabs your other. “Play along. Please.” 

You barely process what’s happening as he clings to your hand. You look up as one of the women approaches with a preening smirk. She’s gorgeous. Her midnight blue dress is speckled with gemstones. The kind you would love to have if you had any sense of style. And her hair, gorgeous spiraled curls that swallow up the light. 

“Destiny, hey,” he clears his throat. “What’s goin’ on? Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

Despite his previous displeasure, he sounds casual. He's always so cool and calm. It’s what makes him such a good friend. 

“Sammy,” she grins. “Nice to see you too. You look... rested.” 

You think she means more than she says. You’re not the best at reading between the lines. Sometimes, for the worse, you assume the best. 

“You too, Dee,” he stays reclined, unbothered. “So, just you and the girls?” 

“Sure, Emma always puts on a great party, doesn’t she?” she shimmies just a little with her purr. You fidget and slurp louder than you mean to. “Oh, excuse me, I’m sorry, hon. I don’t mean to ignore you. I’m Destiny.” 

“Destiny,” you perk up, “uh, it’s nice to meet you.” 

“You too, sweetie,” she drawls, “have fun with Sammy. He’s always a good time.” 

She winks and spins, strutting back to her group. You gulp awkwardly, the burn of alcohol nestling deep in your gut. You need to slow down. 

“That wasn’t weird at all,” he says. “Sorry about that. She always has to be so extra. She’s the one who ghosted me, you know? But she acts like I'm the problem.” He scoffs and tuts, swigging from his own glass. “Don’t even let her get to you. She wishes she was as sweet as you. She’s the devil.” 

You nod and rest your glass against your leg. You wiggle your fingers between his, “uh, Sam, my hand’s falling asleep.” 

“Uh, oh, yeah,” he looks down before he lets you go. “Forgot... thanks, er, for just playing it cool. Can’t imagine if I was here alone. Wouldn’t have to worry if Buck wasn’t such a damn sour puss.” 

“He’s not coming?” You wonder. You don’t often find one without the other. 

“Just me, sorry to disappoint,” he stretches his fingers and sits forward, drinking again, this time with a hunch. 

“I didn’t mean that,” you insist as you lean forward too. “I just thought... I dunno. I’m usually the third wheel, aren’t I?” 

“Nah, that would be Bucky,” he snorts. “You really think that?” 

“I guess, but it’s not like, that deep,” you shrug. “You’ve known each other so long.” 

“Well, it’s not his fault he’s ancient and not mine I’ve been cursed with him,” he snickers. “Tell you what,” he looks at you with a smirk. “Tonight, I’ll show you that you aren’t no third wheel, alright? We’re going to have a blast. Just you and me. You’ll see exactly what you are.” 

“Oh,” you smile, “sounds like a plan, uh...” you look at your drink, feeling its warmth in your cheeks already. “It would be hard not to have any fun with this stuff.” 

“Yep,” he licks his lips and raises his glass, “strong but too good to stop.” 

🎄

You haven’t been this drunk in... well, ever. You’re not much of a drinker. On the odd occasion, you’ll have glass, but nothing excessive. Until tonight. 

The party buzzes around you; music, voices, lights. It all smears together as a dull pain sinks in behind the glaze in your vision. You need some water. Your stomach is too full of alcohol and salty finger foods. 

You look around. The bowl of punch is about empty and the cooler’s open as most of the contents have been picked clean. At least you aren’t the only one above their limit. You stagger around dizzily as you search for anything to dilute your haze. 

You clutch your drained glass down as you enter the kitchen. Where’s that girl Emma? She’s the host, right? You don’t want to just dig through her fridge without asking first. Ugh, but your stomach feels so...sloshy. 

You go to the tap and rinse out the used cup. You fill it with tap water. You take a small sip and slowly swallow. The tepidness doesn’t do much to sooth your insides. 

“Hey,” Sam’s voice startles you. You flinch so hard you splash your dress with the water. You put the glass down and face him, shaking off the droplets. “Sorry, did I do that?” 

“Hm, oh, I’m a bit... tipsy... I think,” you murmur groggily. “I shouldn’t have had so much.” 

“It’s alright, everyone’s lit,” he crosses the kitchen without even a sway. Well, he’s probably got a much higher tolerance. 

“Right, uh... I’m just not...” you clamp your lips shut before you can burp. You breathe it out your nose and gulp. “...used to it.” 

“That’s fine, baby, I’ll take care of you,” he closes in as you lean against the counter. “You wanna hold my arm? You can lean on me.” 

“I just need... a minute,” you wave him off. 

You close your eyes and frame your face with your hands. You try to sort through the fuzziness and the fire in your chest. Was it three or four drinks? More than that? You weren’t counting, Sam just kept bringing you more. 

“I think... I think I need to go home,” you exhale and force your eyes open. “Oh!” 

You flinch as you find Sam right in front of you, crowding you. You blink as his hand frightens you. He pets the side of your head as you gape at him in confusion. 

“What are you doing?” You rasp. 

“Shh, baby, I told you, I'll take care of you.” 

You lean your head into his hand without thinking. You grip the counter tight, your body heavy from alcohol and fatigue. You fight the droop in your eyelids and the yawn twitching in your cheeks. You just want to lay down. 

“You okay, baby?” He brushes your cheek with his thumb. 

Baby? Why does he keep calling you that? You giggle. It’s such a strange thing to say. 

“You’re drunk. So drunk,” he says. 

You hiccup and nod, “I am,” your voice bubbles in your throat. “So are you!” 

He grins and tilts his head, “not really.” 

“Sure, you must be... you had as much as me.” 

His eyes narrow, “did I?” 

Did he? 

You can’t remember. It doesn’t really matter now. You’re not doing to well. Your legs shake and threaten to collapse as you hold yourself up against the counter. Before you can give in to the weakness, he scoops you up and sits you on the granite. You let out a squeak of surprise. 

“Sam!” You squeal. 

“Baby,” he drags his hands away from your hips and down your thighs. You feel your dress rise above your knees as he nudges your legs apart. “You okay? Spinning?” 

Your head bobbles as lines squiggle in your vision, “a lil...” 

“Sure you are,” he growls. “Warm and soft...” 

He hooks his thumbs under the hem of your skirt and lifts it up your thighs. You squeak again and grab at the fabric. “Sam, what are you doing?” 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he tugs your skirt free of your resistance. “Just relax for me,” 

“I’m-- no—what?” You garble as you give a long blink. “Sam, my head.” 

“I know, baby, close your eyes,” he coos. 

“Mm, I’m too... tired,” you grumble as your lashes shut against your volition. “Sammmm...” the last consonant drags. 

“That’s it, baby, be good for me,” his warm hand cradles your skull as you tilt back. He lays you across the granite so your head hangs off the opposite edge. “I’m gonna show you... you’re not a third wheel, are you?” 

You drone mindlessly as even behind your eyelids, the world spins around you. You feel like you’re moving yet paralysed all at once. You spread your fingers wide and press your palms to the cold countertops.  

The cool air grazes your thighs and hot tickle crawls up the front of your panties. Your head lolls as you fight the dizziness. Stay awake. Awake! 

Your eyes snap open and you fight to lift your head. The warmth between your folds draws your eyes down to Sam as he reaches between your legs. His dark eyes are fixated on your pelvis, below your skirt where you can’t see. He rubs you firmly as the sensation creeps down your legs and up your spine. 

You slur but can’t speak. Your eyes roll back and your head drops down again. You tense against the granite as he continues to tease you. You waver on the edge of consciousness as his fingertips dance on your nerves. 

You’re swept up in the flurry of fire coiling around you. Your feet arch and you push your shoulders down. Your breath fills your ears as you puff and pant, your voice trickling out weakly. 

“Oh, baby, that’s it,” Sam purrs as you feel something dip into you. It isn’t until he’s wiggle two fingers deep inside you that you realise what’s happening. He groans and praises you, “you take me so good. So tight. That’s it, relax. Let Sam take care of you.” 

He rocks his hand, pressing against your clit as he does. The tension clusters there, roiling and speckling beneath your skin. You moan and mewl, writhing as your feet kick against the cupboards. 

“Fuck, baby, you got me hurting,” he pulls his fingers out slowly and wipes them down your thigh. He flutters along your skin and gives a pinch. “So fucking sexy, you know that?” 

He once more grips your hips and slides you down the counter. Your head comes flat over the surface and your lashes part, giving a glimpse of the kitchen lights as they ring in your drunken vision. He balances you on the edge and shifts between your legs. 

You force your eyes wide and turn your head. You stare at the door to the front room. In that moment, the glaze of alcohol breaks and you hear and see everything so clearly. The voices competing with the music, the clink of glasses and shuffle of footsteps. The trim of the doorway and the flawless white paint. 

The dull pain that splits you drowns your lungs with a shriek. Sam smothers it in his hand as he keeps going, pushing his tip past the seal of your resistance. He hushes you as he rocks gently, urging further and further into you. 

You shake as you fight to raise your head. You look at him as tears form on the brims of your eyes. He has a hand splayed over your pelvis as he invades you inch after inch. You warble into his palm as he bites his lip and ignore your pain. 

He sighs as he impales you to his limit and well past yours. You arch your back and curl your toes as you try to ease the pressure. You beg him with pitiful whimpers against his hand. 

He slides back, staring at his length as he does, then pushes back in. You clench and grasp his wrist, your guts tightening. His hand pushes up your skirt as it trails up to your stomach then along the front of your dress. 

He shoves your head down to suppress your rising voice. He keeps you trapped there as his hand blocks out your sobs. His other hand delves under the vee of your dress and he fondles your chest. You snivel and flick your eyes back to the vacant ceiling. You close them as you try to hide from this distorted reality. 

Sam pumps into you, groaning and grunting as his pace builds. Faster, harder, until your flesh claps loud enough to be heard against the drone from just the other side of the wall. You shudder as that fact feeds your futility. Here you are, just feet away from help, and you can do nothing. 

“Yes, baby, that’s it,” Sam moves his hand beneath your head, lifting you slightly off the counter, and his other curling under your ass as he buries himself deeper. “Be a good girl for me. Let everyone hear how much you want me? Huh? Let that bitch know she’s can’t compare to you, baby.” 

[liloinkoink]

[art by @martynsimp69]

hello to the, uh, 200+ new followers i've gained from trivia. im finally remembering to throw out a quick pitch for some of my fics to you lot. can i interest you in some lanterns

Lamplight AU

Lamplight a DnD-inspired fantasy renchanting/treebark au in which Martyn is a paladin-by-desperation and Ren is his god. if you've ever seen fanart of Martyn with a lantern / staff around, that's this!

Ren has lost his body and been left in the form of living fire, and Martyn has been separated from his adventuring party. the two of them are looking for a way to restore both of these, and doing a lot of arson in the interim. the fic is about 50k, most of which is "canon" storyline and the rest of which is "non-canon" ship fic. there's also plenty of cool art and even some animatics for the fic, all of which i absolutely recommend trawling thru the "lamplight au" tag for (on here or on my writing blog, @driflew, or checking the fanart tab on my blog). there are even a pair of spin off fics written by close friends of mine for desert duo and boat boys!

lamplight is written out of chronological order and uploaded whenever. work on it lately has been slow, but it's still ongoing

lamplight isnt my only fic (tho it is my favorite). i write a lot more renchanting/treebark aus, some of which ill list off here:

A Romance Route for the Doomed Villain?!?

(for the record. that title was NOT my idea). this au is also known as treesekai, or the treebark isekai dating sim parody oneshot. martyn is a normal man far too obsessed with the main antagonist of a poor-quality dating sim, the very same dating sim he's isekai's into. silly crack treated seriously parody fic as a love/hate letter to the many, many isekai webcomics ive read on webtoon originals over the years. it has a lot of rlly cool art and fic based of it, which you can find in the "treesekai" tag here or my writing blog

Treebark Week 2023

i also have a handful of oneshots from participating in every single day of treebark week around this time last year. these oneshots are for a bunch of different aus, such as a One Piece au, a beauty and the beast au, a lamplight roleswap au, a hero/villain au, a king/pirate au, and a mer au. all of these aus were developed with the help of other people (Rev for the One Piece au, and Cherri for the rest) and have other fics or art attached!

you can find bonus scenes from all of these aus, fanart or fan writing (including several page long comics or animatics), and even scenes from other aus i havent posted on ao3 over at my writing blog, @driflew, under the "lew writes" tag

uhhhhh. not sure how to wrap this one up. welcome to my home? woe treebark be upon ye

[lovelyjj]

omfg so i have read a lot of jj fics and never once have i come across a fic where reader or oc is as unhinged as jj. like in s1 when jj finds the gun they’re all like omg that’s so bad put it down but what if reader was like that’s so dope!!! lemme see it bam bam and takes pics with jj and shit. idk and then when he’s holding the gun to toppers head she’s like WORK IT SMOOCHIE!!!! it just makes me giggle

No because I love this idea!! thank you for this!

The pogues would always be kept on their toes with you and JJ and your behavior. The two of you always getting into trouble and being adventurous. The rest of the pogues were pretty much used to it by now.

When John B found the motel key you were intrigued. You were convinced that it would lead to something exciting. When you tried to report the sunken boat and it failed, you and the pogues decided to check out where the key leads for yourselves.

It was a no brainer that you were going with John B and JJ into the room. JJ was your partner in crime. You weren’t gonna let JJ have all the fun without you.

The HMS Pogue landed on the shore by the motel. John B and JJ got out of the boat. You followed closely behind.

“Let’s go,” John B clapped JJ on the shoulder.

“Why are all these mattresses out?” John B pondered.

“After a hurricane, they ditch ‘em ‘cause they’re all moldy,” JJ answered.

You, JJ, and John B walked up to the room while JJ tried to convince John B that Kiara was into him.

“This is it.” John B announced.

“Okay.” JJ stated.

“Here we go,” you anticipated what was gonna be inside.

JJ knocked on the door and said in a high pitched voice, “housekeeping.”

John B unlocked the door and the three of you entered the room. You all started looking through things. John B was looking through a bag and JJ was looking at a jacket.

You went into the bathroom and scanned the area. JJ went over to the nightstand and found a map.

John B eventually got the safe open, “holy shit.”

“Uh… JJ, Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“You’re gonna want to see this.” John B insisted.

“Dude dude dude!” JJ excitedly said.

“Oh my god no way!” you exclaimed.

“You grabbed the gun,” John B was mad.

“This is a SIG Sauer.” JJ acknowledged.

“Put the gun back, JJ!” John B whispered yelled.

“This is a fucking spendy gatt, man.”

“Hey! Lemme see it please,” you voiced.

JJ gave you the gun and you felt powerful.

“Bam! Bam! Bam!” you held the gun out in front of you like you were gonna shoot it.

“Y/N, stop,” John B raised his voice.

“Take a pic of me.” you ordered.

“You wanna make our own incriminating evidence?” John B deadpanned.

“Fine I’ll do it myself, JJ get in here.”

You held up the gun in one hand and your phone in the other. You angled the camera so it could get you and JJ. You took some pictures. Then you set the phone on the nightstand and leaned it against the phone.

You put the phone on a timer and went back to back with JJ. You held the gun up near your face and took a couple photos like that.

“These are so sick!” you cheered as you looked at them.

All of a sudden you herd something from outside. John B looked out the window to see Kie and Pope. Then he looked out the window closest to the door. It was cops.

You hid outside the building on a ledge. When the cops left you all got out of there.

—————

Kiara’s idea for a kegger was a good one. You were excited to let loose and enjoy the party. JJ filled up a cup of beer for you which you gladly accepted.

The party was going well, you were dancing with JJ. When you wanted to take a break you went over to the keg. JJ got a drink for John B. But when he was going to give it to him Sarah and Topper walked by.

JJ offered the drink to Sarah, but then Topper said he’ll take it. That’s when a fight started to break out.

John B and Topper were getting into. Then it started to escalate. Topper was drowning him. You were scared because you knew John B could die at any moment.

JJ was getting worried as well. He knew he had to do something and do it fast. The only thing he could think of was the gun.

JJ pulled the gun on topper and pressed the gun to his temple.

“Yeah, you know what that is.”

“Get ‘em jayj!” you shouted.

“Give it to em good!” you yelled.

Everyone else was yelling at JJ to chill and to stop as well as to calm down. You however encouraged your boyfriend.

“You’re move, broski,” JJ warned.

Topper weakly said, “We’re good we’re good.”

Then JJ took matters into his own hands.

“Okay, everyone, listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!” Then he fired the gun in the air two times.

“You tell em baby!” You raised your voice.

—————-

JJ had the brilliant idea to rob a drug dealer. Everyone gave him a lot of shit for it. They yelled at him and told him they were fed up with his bullshit.

You however encouraged him saying, “Barry deserves it.”

All in all, you and JJ together is a force to be reckon with. You’re both very brave and strong and truly unhinged.

[3noa3]

Them leaving you in place

It's one of your only resting times and your least favorite. The other two being when you're not in the party or when the player leaves.

It's not like you hate taking a break or anything, archon knows you're not a workaholic like a few of your acquaintances.

Today the player invited a new friend into his world, low level and all that. After they afk a bit you move to comfort the scared Klee the other player had.

— More under the cut —

You sat stiffly on the chair as the player and her friend chatted among themselves.

The topic has long bored you and you resigned yourself to looking around the scenery of Mt. Aocong, or so you would if the other player's Klee didn't look so distraught.

You already met the Klee your player had but she mostly hung around the Knight of Favonius. The little kid had ample time and support so she got back on her feet after becoming self aware relatively fast but if your guess is right then this Klee probably didn't have the same luxury.

[Oh shoot! I forgot to cook rice!]

[Hahaha! You're dead!... oh wait i had to cook rice too.]

After you discreetly looked into their screen and made sure they left you stood up from the stone chair and approached co-op Klee.

She flinched and looked at you with fear before holding your hands up and showing her you mean no threat.

“Hey uh Klee, you probably don't know me but i know you. You're probably confused so feel free to ask anything.”

You spoke in an awkward albeit reassuring tone. She continues to look at you warily, archons you suck at dealing with kids.

Remembering a trick a Fontainian acquaintance once taught you you proceeded to pull out a mora.

“Here! Do you see this? It's a mora! Oh and where did it go? Right behind your ear.”

You felt tension leave your shoulder after her eyes brightened up with curiosity.

“Ohh ohh, how did you do that?”

She asked curiously as you make a shushing motion with a playful wink.

“Magicians secret, anyway how are you feeling?”

You ask while pulling out a juice from your inventory.

“Klee is a bit scared…”

She replies, looking down and twiddling with her fingers before brightening up as she happily takes the juice you gave her.

“Yeah it's… always scary the first time.”

You then went back to your seat and kept talking to her. She's actually quite nice to be around.

The small bundle of energy happily talked about her adventures, dodoco, and older brother Albedo. You didn't realize how much time had passed until Klee’s player entered the room, left the game and the co-op world ended.

You felt uneasy being left in silence once again but without your player closing the app you could do nothing but stand out in the open, doing some idle animations or dialogue every now and again.

Even when it rained. Even when a lightning struck you. Just standing in painstaking silence...

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 1

Here we go! I have it planned that I will be updating this story on Fridays, so yay! I have 10 parts set out as of now, but we'll see where this story takes me.

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: Friends with Benefits, ANGST, unrequited feelings, lots more to come!

Word Count: 1,200

Prologue

You were right to doubt Natasha's words.

Waking up next to Bucky just gets harder and harder as time goes on. Listening to his soft murmurs and heavy sighs, the feel of his bare skin against yours. Every time you find yourself between his sheets, you resent him a little. But it’s not his fault, it’s yours. Every time.

Because you know that if you ever take that one crucial step towards him, you’ll lose him. Lose this closeness, this connection.

So you don’t take that step. You haven’t opened up and told him how you feel for months now. And it drives a knife into your heart with every second that passes where you don’t confess.

Every time you sneak away from parties to some hidden room for a quick fuck, or when he’s pounding into you under a street light on some deserted road with your leg hiked over his motorcycle at 3 am, you can’t help but imagine that all this passion has to mean something to him. Like it means something to you.

So you test it.

You invite him on adventures between missions, visiting museums and parks and 24/7 diners that you know are perfect date spots. He always readily agrees to hang out and stays with you the whole time, his arm slung over your shoulders while he laughs in your ear.

Spending time with Bucky like this leaves you effervescent. You always leave his arms smiling like a fool – because that’s what you are.

Because these movie tickets are just an excuse, really. 

Bucky’s been so busy these last couple of weeks that you’ve hardly seen him, let alone spent any "quality" time with him. You’re currently on your longest dry spell you’ve ever had with him, and the lack of contact leaves you delusional.

Delusional enough to do something stupid. 

Delusional enough to tell Bucky how you feel.

The air is cold as you and Bucky stroll from the movie theater, your heart buzzing in your chest as you contemplate how best to approach the topic. Bucky gives you the perfect opportunity with his next sentence.

“Damn, dollface, forgot how much fun it was to hang out with you. Feels like it’s been ages.”

“We could always hang out more,” you respond coyly, taking his hand and curling yourself against his side. You don’t think you can look him in the eyes while you confess to him.

“Yeah, we should,” Bucky says, and you can’t hold back your next words.

“We could go on a real date sometime.”

You feel a nearly imperceptible jolt in Bucky’s muscles, and his voice is slightly bemused when he replies. “What?” 

There’s confusion behind the words, but you hope against hope that it’s because he’s thinking your suggestion through.

“Well, I mean, we’ve already kind of been going on dates and doing other things that couples do? It wouldn’t be so hard to just make it more concrete, you know?” Your words squeeze around the lump in your throat, your insides shivering in desperation.

Bucky stops in his tracks and pulls you off to the side of the street out of other people’s way. He turns you to face him, his palms resting on your shoulders, his blue eyes searching your face for any sign of the joke you must surely be playing. Because you’ve talked about this. He was very clear. And you had agreed all those months ago – agreed that it was just sex. Agreed that neither of you had any romantic feelings for the other.

“Uh, doll? What are you…?”

Your cheeks burn and your fingers tingle. Your heart can’t handle being scrutinized so intensely at this moment. You avert your eyes to where you’re scuffing your shoe back and forth, back and forth, across the pavement.

“I’m saying… I–I like you, Bucky.” Heart in youth throat, you finally look back into his eyes when you say his name. 

But his expression as he looks back at you isn’t the one you were wanting to see. Bucky looks panicked. Like you’ve just told him that you’re holding a bomb that’s set to detonate in seconds. 

“Jesus,” Bucky says your name in exasperation as he removes his hands from your arms and runs them through his long hair, “why would you–”

Fuck. 

You quickly back-pedal, trying to keep the panic out of your voice while scrambling to pick your bleeding heart off the dirty sidewalk.

“No, no, no. Wait, Bucky. Listen. I know we’ve talked about this before and you said you weren’t looking for anything serious.” Your hands are flying all over the place as you try and explain away your feelings. “But we’ve been hanging out a lot and maybe I just got the wrong idea–”

“Yeah. You did,” Bucky interjects, sending a dagger into the mess of an organ clutched desperately between your hands. “It’s flattering and all, but… you know I’m not interested in you like that.”

You’re successfully holding back tears against the burning in your eyes, but the need to release all the pain you’re feeling is overwhelming. You wrap one arm protectively around yourself and grab on to your other bicep, squeezing hard to feel the physical hurt instead of the emotional.

“No, yeah, you’re right. I’m – I just thought I should be honest? But, seriously, don’t even worry about it.” You hold your hands up in a placating gesture and give as convincing a smile as possible. “This won’t change anything, I promise. And besides, I’ll get over it soon enough!”

Bucky gives you a skeptical look, but nods his head slowly. “So… we’re taking sex off the table, obviously.”

You give a breathy laugh and try to roll your eyes playfully. “Probably not the best idea at the moment,” you respond.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs, “probably not.”

You both stand in awkward silence, not really looking at each other. You can only stand it for so long until you casually throw a thumb over your shoulder and suggest heading back home.

It’s a long, long ride back on his motorcycle. But at least the wind lashing your face gives you an excuse for the tears that fall.

***

You make it to your floor without seeing another person, but your luck runs out when you find Nat and Wanda watching a movie together in your bed. The sight of your two best friends smiling warmly at your entrance shatters the last of your strength.

You can’t stop the hiccuping sob that leaves your throat – it refuses to be held back any longer. Both women’s eyes widen and they immediately start to sit up, but you’ve collapsed on top of the covers between them before they could move. You can feel Wanda’s fingers in your hair and Nat’s hand rubbing soothing circles between your shoulders.

Your sobs eventually turn into sniffles, and that’s when Wanda speaks.

“What happened?” she asks softly.

You take a shuddering breath in before saying, “I was stupid.”

“What–” Wanda begins, but Natasha immediately knows what you mean.

“Fuck.” She sighs heavily and leans down to place a kiss on the crown of your head.

Part 2

[hunterwritesstuff]

Tell us more about ck in ur au plz

*Cracks knuckles* you've awoken the autism. prepare for the beam. under cut because good lord do I ramble about this guy, and this is just what comes to my mind RIGHT NOW.

(divider by @strangergraphics)

❄️ So uh. he's a guy. a fella if you will.

❄️ Married. He loves his wife with all his heart, even if he can't show it in the usual way.

❄️ He's always been a kind and just ruler, and has been helping Blackrock recover from his father's influence ever since he gained power in the throne.

❄️ Before the Ice Dagger, he was very like. almost akin to Asgore with his people if that makes sense? Like? He knows his people by their names, stuff like that!

❄️ He babysat Griefer and was good friends with Mayor Thaniyel. Source? *Undertale run sfx*

❄️ He vaguely knows Shedletsky, mostly through him swinging by every so often for..."important business"...whatever that meant.

❄️ Russian. Trust me bro.

❄️ His actual name is Alexei Romanov!

❄️ He's very quiet. Sometimes people will forget he's even in the room. Not because they don't see him, no no, it's because he just sorta. sits in silence???

❄️ He was taken care of by Kitchen Wizard for most of his life growing up. Kitchen Wizard took this as "I will have this whole-ass baby-child in the kitchen with me and complain about how Ivan(his father) never gave me ANY form of assistant at ALL!! Can you believe that?!?" "baba!" "Ah yes, wise words, young prince." "Pebut buba..." "Much too young for that, I'm afraid."

❄️ His cape is rumored to just. be his baby blanket sized up? Like, it's rumored he got so attached to it that he just never wanted to get rid of it? That's HIS? Leave him ALONE?

❄️ Banished Knight is his son. His son's name is Boris, I think.

❄️ Keep babies away from him he'll get baby fever so bad he'll actually sob and it'll be very awkward for everybody

❄️ Father was Russian, mother was Norwegian. It just feels right, yk?

❄️ This is playing into a personal HC, but I feel the voice in his head took on the voice of his father, promising that he'd be proud of him if he grabbed the Ice Dagger.

❄️ "Come now, Alexei. Don't you want to make me proud for once?"

❄️ At first it didn't move him. He'd heard how dangerous that thing was. He'd heard the tales of adventurers going mad while searching for it.

❄️ ...but what if he was different? what if he could manage it? what if he could finally be the one to wield it and control it?

❄️ he would be a hero.

❄️ then whispers of his kingdom's fate started to plague his mind.

❄️ and that's what got to him. he loved his people more than anything, his kingdom more than anything. he saved it from ruin, he didn't want his work to be all for nothing.

❄️ so he assembled a search party.

❄️ then he found it. it was everything he heard it was and more.

❄️ a gloriously carved dagger from an ancient glacier, with a crystal in the hilt, and an aura of magic surrounding it. it felt magical.

❄️ as the voices grew louder, he drew closer, and closer, and closer, until...

❄️ a flash of blue light flooded the room as he grabbed the hilt. he was practically the only survivor. well...not exactly.

❄️ the rest of his search party survived, they were just...frozen. they could observe the outside world, but couldn't move. frozen in chunks of ice, merely...observing.

❄️ meanwhile, Cruel King was frostburned almost all across his body, leaving only a small chunk of his flesh on the left side untouched, and his left eye frozen into a mere ice cube.

❄️ the fallout was devastating. the normally cheery town was quickly swept up in a deadly snowstorm, trapping the people who were in their homes inside, and freezing those who were unfortunate enough to be outside during the storm.

❄️ Blackrock dubbed this event "The great freeze".

❄️ After this, Cruel King was even more reclusive and quiet, feeling as if his people's suffering was his fault.

❄️ Technically it was, but he just wanted to do what would protect his beloved people! H-He didn't have any malicious intent! H-He swears!!

❄️ Then his defensiveness over his kingdom and people starts to grow, and fester into something more. Paranoia. Fear of outsiders. Fear of his kingdom getting destroyed even more.

❄️ Come time of Chapter 1, he increases security around the castle, using his newfound abilities to bring the statues around Blackrock Castle to life.

❄️ Whenever the heroes step onto the castle grounds, Cruel King can immediately tell the air has changed. That one of them is more than meets the eye. He tells his guards to be careful, but still defend with their lives.

❄️ When the heroes arrive in the throne room, unlike in-game, Cruel King freezes over the door out and windows. It was no longer a throne room. it was now a tomb.

❄️ The fight is long and grueling(more akin to Hatred in difficulty), but eventually, Cruel King is defeated, the Ice Dagger knocked from his hands for the first time in ages, finally rewarded with one last thing. Clarity.

❄️ He mumbles some ramblings about how he "just wanted to save my people", and how "the voices have returned...I failed him once again...I feel cold..."

❄️ and finally drops dead, cold on the floor.

❄️ Then he awakens in Nirvana. How long has he been out? Was he dead? Alive? Undead? He didn't understand.

❄️ But then his attention shifts to a more important topic.

❄️ the voices are gone. he was free.

❄️ thinking back on his final moments, he was furious with the heroes. how dare they take him away from his people, from his kingdom? how dare they strip the life he'd worked so hard for away from him?

❄️ but here he feels oddly...at peace. like all weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

❄️ Then he starts wondering what his kingdom is doing. how Kitchen Wizard is doing.

❄️ Then he hears the spawnpoint activate. He turns to the direction the sound came from, finding the party of heroes approaching.

❄️ They spar for a while, the king's anger slowly petering out as he sees their strength at its peak. yes...they could protect his kingdom. keep it afloat.

❄️ Eventually, he yields. And he gives them a card as gratitude for the sparring matches. They could call on him whenever they needed to.

❄️ extra headcanons time, WOOO-

❄️ Woe, inflicts lactose intolerance upon yon king.

❄️ He paid Kitchen Wizard visits as often as he could, he likes him :)

❄️ He dad sneezes so loud it just sometimes. echoes. it scares some of the knights sometimes.

❄️ He's always had ice magic, the Ice Dagger just amplified it to the UNHEALTHY EXTREME.

❄️ He sticks his tongue out whenever he focuses.

❄️ Shorp teefies. he could bite hard enough to make anyone bleed if threatened.

❄️ Speaking of bite, uh. he can like. have an IRON GRIP??? WITH HIS JAW??? SOMEHOW???

❄️ his favorite meal is a bowl of fully loaded baked potato soup from Kitchen Wizard :3

❄️ he WILL mope in his bathtub if needed, DO NOT INTERRUPT HIM!!!

❄️ The Snorey Bears around the area? He helped raise those mofuckers. They're fat because of HIM.

❄️ Someone tried to set up mouse traps around the castle once when CK was younger. CK sobbed deeply. They just want CHEESE!!! Said person was fired immediately.

❄️ Somehow always smells of peppermint...

❄️ Chunker. Kitchen Wizard made sure he was well fed when he was younger and CK kept those eating habits up into adulthood.

❄️ His ass could NOT survive Turitopolis' climate.

❄️ He never really got any portraits painted of himself, as he wanted to try to not become overly vain.

❄️ He sucks at showing emotion. Like, dude is terrible at it.

❄️ Usually speaks in a monotone voice, but if he yells, you better get running.

[captainsophiestark]

Not On The Guest List

Platonic!Percy Jackson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Summary: An uninvited guest shows up to Percy and Annabeth's wedding. Luckily, Percy's mortal cousin is on the case.

Word Count: 1,456

Category: Fluff

A/N: One fic a week every Friday of 2024!! We freaking did it!!! Guys, I literally have no idea how I managed to pull this off. But I did! Woohoo!!! Also, this fic and this fic also feature Percy and his cousin having adventures, although you don't need to read either of them to enjoy this one.

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Hey! How's it going in here?" I called, knocking on the door as I slowly pushed it open. My cousin and favorite person in the universe, Percy Jackson, called back in response.

"It's going good."

I pushed the door the rest of the way open to find him standing in the center of the room in his tux, looking perfectly polished. I grinned, then made a show of wiping tears out of the corners of my eyes. Percy rolled his eyes, but he was grinning all the same.

"My baby cousin's all grown up," I cried, crossing the room to wrap him in a big hug. He hugged me back, tight, and when we finally pulled apart we were both beaming. "Annabeth's gonna faint."

Percy just laughed and shook his head.

"If anybody's going to faint at this wedding, it'll be me. Or maybe Grover."

"I don't think anybody'd blame either of you."

Percy and I shared a smile, but before we could do anything else, the satyr in question came bursting into the room, looking more than a little panicked. He stopped short when he noticed me and Percy, glancing between the two of us like he really didn't know what to do.

"Grover?" asked Percy, taking a few steps forward. "What's wrong?"

"Uh..." He glanced to me again, then back to Percy. "Nothing! Just... a small problem."

"What is it?" said Percy. I stepped forward, too, trying to give Grover a reassuring smile.

"I'm happy to help, whatever it is the bride and groom need. We'll figure it out."

Grover didn't look any less nervous as he wrung his hands and looked between us. He'd probably been hoping to find one of the magical members of Percy's side of the wedding party, but I'd have to make do.

"It's just... I just saw He- the goddess of marriage outside."

"Hera's here?" demanded Percy, nearly shouting the words without a care for whether she'd notice the use of her name. I scowled, even as Grover seemed to get more and more nervous.

"I guess, since this is a half-blood wedding, she decided..."

Percy practically growled, and I saw a look of pure rage on his face directed at the Queen of Olympus. Probably, if he had to, he'd go out there and start a fight himself to keep her away from his and Annabeth's wedding. Luckily, he had the best cousin in the world to help him out, instead.

"I've got this," I declared, stepping forward and putting a hand on Percy's shoulder. "Leave this to me."

"Hold on..." said Percy, stopping me short as I started to head for the door. "Are you sure? I mean... she can cause all kinds of problems..."

"I know. I've heard all about the shit she's stirred for you and for Annabeth. But I'm mortal, and almost definitely not on her radar. Don't worry about it, Perce. I've got this."

I shot him a wink, then turned and booked it out of the room before either he or Grover could second guess me.

Thankfully, despite being mortal, it didn't take me long to locate Hera once I made it outside the wedding venue. She was practically glowing, and she was the only person in range who had a scowl on her face. I cleared my throat, straightened my shoulders, and shifted into character. Then, I rushed forward and grabbed the nearest person to Hera by the arm. I didn't know her, but I didn't need to for this to work.

"Did you hear?" I asked in a very loud stage whisper. The woman looked at me in absolute confusion, but I continued, just hoping she wouldn't say anything to ruin my play. "I just heard them talking, and they're calling off the wedding."

The woman in front of me gasped, and although I didn't dare look, I could feel Hera's attention shifting to me.

"I know! But it's done. It's like a curse or something, I swear. Everything's been going wrong, and they've been fighting for, like, the past hour. We're working on putting an announcement together for the guests, but like... this is not happening. We all thought they were bulletproof. Apparently not..."

The woman I'd started speaking to looked horrified, but she stopped mattering to me as Hera walked past us, a smirk on her face. Before she reached the corner of the venue, she disappeared into thin air. I smiled.

"Are you... are you serious?" the woman before me asked, her hand flying to her heart. I straightened up and grinned, pausing for one last check that Hera was nowhere in sight before answering.

"Nope! Sorry, weird prank. I thought it'd be a hit, but... clearly not. Enjoy the ceremony!"

The woman scowled, shocked and furious, but I turned and headed inside before she could make a scene. As far as I was concerned, that was a complete mission success. It wouldn't be a forever fix, since Hera would figure out the wedding did actually go on at some point, but hopefully I'd done things well enought that none of us would get in trouble for it. I headed back towards the groom's room to let Percy know the good news, but somebody stopped me just before I rounded the corner to the right hallway.

I looked up to see someone I recognized from a few pictures Percy and Sally had around their houses. Poseidon himself, attending his son's wedding in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. I narrowed my eyes.

"That was well done," he said, giving me a small smile and nod. I quickly schooled my expression to absolute neutrality.

"I don't know what you're talking about. On an unrelated note, any chance your magic powers would allow you to change into a suit for this wedding? Or at least pants with the Hawaiin shirt?"

Poseidon just stared at me for a long moment, then finally, he started laughing.

"I can see the family resemblance to Sally," he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder and giving me a good-natured smile. "And don't worry. I'm happy to cover for you if anyone starts asking questions."

I sighed. It wasn't an answer to my pants question, but it was a promise to lie to Hera for me, so... I guess I'd take it.

"Thanks. And thanks for coming. I know it'll mean a lot to Percy."

Poseidon gave another smile and nod, then headed off to join the rest of the wedding guests. I watched him go for a moment, then took a deep breath and turned to go find Percy like I'd been trying to do. Never a dull moment since I'd reconnected with this side of the family, but I'd also never regretted it for a second.

Percy was over the moon when I'd told him, and not long after, he and Annabeth finally walked down the isle and said their vows. The ceremony was absolutely beautiful, and by some miracle, we didn't get a reappearance from Hera. After so many pictures everyone in the wedding party was ready to drop, we moved on to an absolutely outstanding reception. With literal magical Olympians in attendance, the party got immediately into full swing, and continued long into the early hours of the next morning.

After whirling around the dancefloor for more songs in a row than I could count, I finally made my way to plop down at a table for just a few moments of breathing and taking the weight off my feet. At least half the guests had already called it a night, but a core of us were still going.

As I took a deep breath, Percy emerged from the dancefloor's crowd and made his way over to me, too. I grinned as I saw him coming, raising the glass of water I'd found in toast.

"Congratulations," I said as he sat down next to me, a massive, dopey smile on his face. "Again."

"Thanks. And thanks for the help today with... You Know Who. Don't know what we would've done without you."

I grinned. "Sure thing, Perce. I missed a lot of Olympian days when you were in the middle of the shit, and even if I hadn't, I know I probably wouldn't have been able to help much. So I'm glad I'm able to help now."

Percy smiled and leaned over to give my shoulder a squeeze, then slumped back in his chair. We sat for a few moments in comfortable silence, watching fondly as our friends and loved ones continued to destroy the dance floor.

In another moment or two, I knew we'd be dragged back into the middle of it, both with smiles on our faces. But it was nice to be able to take a quick breather with my favorite cousin amidst the festivities to just sit back and enjoy the moment.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Riordanverse Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[2hoothoots]

In all honesty, the funniest thing about this trio (lili/dogen/raz) is the context— like Lili is the daughter of the HEAD of the psychonauts, a prestigious line dating back to the founders, known for their capabilities with fern and then you have dogen who’s the son of another line of prestigious psychics concerning both ACTUAL MURDER and animal telepathy

And then you have like

Some fucking circus dude

Like Raz is a fucking prodigy in itself but from the outside view he is really just “some dude— oh wait, oh shit.” These bitches go to parties and take smug satisfaction in introducing local circus man who also saved the world

yeah, pretty much

(BUT ALSO joking aside this is kind of one of the reasons i think they thematically work so well as a trio! mini-essay under cut)

because that’s exactly it, right – Lili and Dogen both grew up immersed in this world. they’re part of it, part of the community, their families are intimately linked with the founding of the Psychonauts. Lili’s dad is the Grand Head, the boss of this organisation that Raz, meanwhile, is so desperate to join. because Raz is the outsider to all of this – he so badly wants to be a part of the action, the heroism, the community. (and also, sure, we find out in PN2 he technically has that family connection too – but he also has, uh, really good reasons not to make that public knowledge lol)

so many of Lili and Raz’s interactions in PN1 turn on the fact that Lili finds camp so routine as to be entirely boring, whereas Raz is so unashamedly passionate about everything. he’s so completely starry-eyed to get a glimpse into this world, and meet the heroes from his comic books – and his enthusiasm ends up being infectious! it’s what Lili needs to break out of her own apathy, and they start conspiring and arranging midnight rendezvous and going on this whole adventure together… and the rest is history.

i just really like how that setup – Lili and Dogen having grown up with the Psychonauts, Raz being an outsider – manifests in a unique dynamic for each of the pairs, y’know? i write Lili and Dogen as childhood friends. they’ve known each other the longest of the three, they have so many shared experiences, and i think on some level they understand each other the best because of how they’ve come from such similar places. Lili and Raz have this incredible shared passion, they hype each other up and feed each others’ senses of wonder and enthusiasm. and for Dogen and Raz – Raz is one of the only people who treats Dogen as just a person, first and foremost. he’s not cowed by his family’s reputation at all, he doesn’t have any of the baggage that so many people do when they hear the name “Boole”... it’s so unexpected and refreshing for Dogen that he can’t help getting attached!

(and not to get too deep, but it’s especially compelling to me when you consider how the game’s narrative around psychic powers is one that parallels neurodivergence, mental illness, trauma, and broad themes of “otherness”... it’s a thread i like to tease at sometimes around how communities can form, and things can bring people together and individuals can find each other and be seen in their shared experiences. it’s funny but it’s also sweet! it’s really sweet to me.)

[dcartcorner]

a fantasy/dnd au because i can't help myself and the thought of ancient blue dragon simon who disguises himself as a human brings me joy.

please enjoy this small one shot ft. s1 adventuring crew (please excuse any errors, writing is not my strong suit!)

Rumours at the Tavern Characters: Tim, Simon, Sasha, Martin, Jon Ships: none

It wasn’t what Tim would consider a nice tavern. He had performed in nicer ones, ones where the counters were meticulously cleaned and the patrons were at least passably polite to the serving staff, and a mug of ale would set you back a silver piece. This place was not quite like that.

Then again, Tim had been to worse sorts of dives.

The Lazy Storm sat right smack in the middle of the two kinds of taverns, perched on the cliff side overlooking the choppy seas of the western coast, amidst the fjords in the town of Killn’s Rest. Not a bad place, not a good place. Just a place, somewhere to  find some warmth, a quick meal, and something to drink. It was also the sort of tavern that didn’t take fire hazards all that seriously, if the number of people making merry that evening within its walls was any indication of the owner’s outlook on safety. It was busy, to the point where crowds spilled out onto the street even though the summer had come to a close and the winter, with its biting chill, was fast approaching.

Perhaps that’s why Tim noticed him - the old man. Because he was sitting on the bar top. 

There were few other seats around. Sasha had managed to charm their way to a table of their own earlier in the night while Martin tried to see about rooms, and their party had stayed planted at said table all night as the crowds slowly but surely filtered in for the evening. They were lucky, in this regard, as many other people were forced to stand shoulder to shoulder. Not that old man, though. Perched on the edge of the bar like a bird, smiling kindly at the person next to him.

And his choice of seat was not the only peculiar thing about him, Tim thought. He wore clothing that Tim could only describe as ornate. If this was one of those nice taverns Tim had played in, he might have expected that sort of the look, but this wasn’t one of those places. This was the Lazy Storm, and that man was incredibly overdressed. 

“It’s weird, right?” Tim said aloud. Martin looked up, then glanced around. Sasha craned her neck to look at him. Jon didn’t look up from his book. Tim nodded in the direction of the old man. “Someone dressed like that in a place like this. That’s odd, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Sasha shrugged.

“Where?” Martin asked.

“Good on him, getting dressed up to go out for a night,” said Sasha. 

“I think it’s weird,” said Tim. Because it was. 

“Where?” Martin asked again. “Oh. Him? I mean. I suppose it’s… well, it’s a little odd.” The twist of a frown at the corners of Martin’s mouth. “Someone should offer him a seat.”

“Seems happy enough where he is,” Sasha said with a huff of a laugh as the other man at the bar leaned closer to the old man and whispered something to him. 

“Could we please focus,” Jon finally interjected, shutting the book. 

Tim rolled his eyes as he took a swig of his drink. It wasn’t silver coin ale. This was a copper-piece-per-tankard-ale, and it tasted like it. Which was to say, it tasted like a good night in the making.

“Have any of you actually asked anyone about any jobs yet?” Jon said.

“Asked just about as many people as you,” Tim said. By this, Tim meant: none. 

“There’s a rat problem in the sewers,” Sasha said, “according to one guard. Doesn’t pay well, but at least it pays.”

“There are bandits, too,” Martin added. “Uh, just out east of here. Somewhere. Apparently they have a den in the woods? But I think someone might’ve already taken that one.”

“Mm.” Jon was not impressed. He looked over at Tim. “Anything?”

Tim raised his hands. “Don’t look at me, I can get a job whenever.” Plenty of people out there who were willing to pay for some good music. “Or did you forget who bought the rooms and drinks?”

Jon leaned his elbows on the table and put his face in his hands momentarily. Then looked up at Tim and said, “Could you please just. Ask.”

“Jon, maybe we should just… take a night off?” Martin suggested. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing…”

Jon shot him a look and that was the end of that conversation.

Well, didn’t matter. Jon didn’t have to join them in having a good night if he didn’t want to. Tim wasn’t going to let it bother him, and he got up to go order another drink with his own hard earned money, ignoring how much lighter his coin purse was compared to earlier that day.

Why was it his problem anyway, that they didn’t have much in the way of coin? He wasn’t going to let it get to him. It wasn’t getting to him. He and Sasha and Martin were just some poor souls dragged along on Jon’s pointless quest to find some answers that had nothing to do with any of them. So why did it matter?

It didn’t matter.

Dammit. 

The old man was not the first person he asked that night about a job. As he waited for a drink he asked the person to his left and to his right, but neither of them were keen on talking - and it took him a little too long to realize they were part of their own adventuring party based on the matching bands on their arms, and wouldn’t be sharing any information with him. He tried to ask the bartender as well, but she was too busy to give him any answer that was not a look of inconvenience. 

Tim sighed. And he kept asking, until finally his route around the tavern brought him to the old man at the bar. Sat there, dressed strangely, looking for all the world like he should be just about anywhere else. 

“Are you quite alright?” the old man asked him. Tim blinked. “Not that I mind, but I’ve been told it’s rude to stare.”

Had he been staring? “Sorry,” Tim said. The old man smiled at him.

“Something I can do for you?” the old man asked. 

Tim looked around briefly. The other person with whom the old man had been speaking earlier that night was gone. “Don’t suppose there is,” Tim said. “Unless you know of any get rich quick jobs around this place.”

The old man chuckled. “Well now, I can think of a few, but I’m not entirely sure those are the type you’re looking for,” he said, resting his hands on the head of his cane which he had propped up on the empty edge of one of the bar-stools. “Tough times, out there. Or so I hear. Something about the supply and demand of it all, I think. Too many adventurers, too few problems that need solving! At least around these parts.” The old man sighed thoughtfully. “This coast isn’t what it used to be. Time was you couldn’t take two steps on the road without running into bandits or cultists or a proper mountain troll. Now you’d be lucky to find a good sized rat nest to clean up.”

“Yeah, well. Killing rats doesn’t pay well,” Tim said. 

The old man smiled, watching Tim over the rim of his glasses. His eyes were sharply blue, Tim noticed. “No,” the man agreed. “No it doesn’t.” He tilted his head. “Terribly sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to go further afield to find anything.”

“Thanks anyway,” Tim said, defeated. 

“Although,” the old man said as Tim was turning away. Tim paused and looked back at him. “I’ve heard a rumour. There have been a few ships that have come into the harbour with some particularly strange news out of the Shivering Straight. Up north. Word is there have been a handful of whaling ships that have gone missing around Helkelson Bay. Only a couple of survivors. Those that do manage to best the frostbite say… well. You know how sailors can be, always creating the most fanciful stories. A ghost ship, they say! The mayor of Helkelson isn’t altogether convinced it’s anything so peculiar as that, though I hear he’s offering a handsome reward to anyone willing to… solve the problem. Whatever that problem may be.”

“Helkelson?” Tim said. 

“That’s right,” the old man replied with a smile. “Ask around the docks, I’d say. Plenty of merchant ships coming and going that way. Of course, it’s only a rumour.”

Tim smiled back. “Better than nothing.”

It was at that moment the old man’s companion returned and gave Tim a wary look. Tim took it as his cue to leave with a nod of thanks and an imaginary tip of the hat before he returned to the table to join his companions. 

“Let me start,” he said to them, “by saying you’re welcome. Now, any of you been to the Shivering Straight?”

[trickbxbes]

ʚĭɞ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 [𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] {𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊}

             “Hello…? Can you hear me…? I need you to respond.”

The foreign voice causes you to gasp, lifting your head. Your breathing was shaky and shallow. The air around you felt thick with tension. Braving your nerves, you grit your teeth and grip your seat edges. 

“I’m sorry. Can we start over?” 

You lift your head to face the faceless woman in front of you. Your hospital gown crinkling as you shift. The woman was thankfully patient, waiting a beat before asking again. “What is your name?”

“My name is (Y,n) (L,n).”

(Y,n) (L,n)

Beth’s Best Friend

Josh’s Ex Girlfriend

Adventurous, Reserved, Contentious

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Current Player:

Beth Washington

Relationship Status: 

     Base:7/10 (Same lvl as Josh)

        The chatter grew quieter later into the night. Music from the nearest speaker creating sound waves in the living room. The fireplace cast a warmth that only spread its calming orange throughout the room. Twin sisters, Hannah and Beth Washington, were trying to cleanup after their friends. The party having been calming down as of late. They shared a look as they spotted their elder brother, Josh Washington, face down on the kitchen counter. Beth approached, seeing the empty bottle of Jeremiah Whiskey, the source of her brother’s drunken state. 

“Geez, Josh. Once again brother, you’ve out done us all.”

Beth pat his shoulder as Hannah walked beside her. They had the same thought. They would smile with amusement as they then guided their elder brother to a couch. They laid him down right in front of the warm fireplace, comforting the unconscious man. Nearby would be another drunken unconscious friend, Christopher Hartley.

They’d smile at one another before continuing on with their cleaning. Beth wouldn’t notice Hannah’s increasing excitement when the sister noticed a note on her laptop. She was busy dealing with another. 

“Beth~! Bethhh.” 

You stumbled in through a different room. Pushing aside the wooden doors sloppily, revealing the rest of the partygoers behind. Little did the Washingtons’ know, a devious plan was being set in motion. You’d glance back at your friends with a slightly uncomfortable expression. Your gut was telling you something was amiss, that maybe you should try to stop what was to occur. But you didn’t. 

Jessica Riley folded her arms, her blonde pigtails swaying on her shoulders. Next to her was best friend, Emily Davis. But while Jessica was watching you leave with some suspicion, Emily dismissed the idea with a smile as they got back to discussing. 

Beth met you halfway, setting down the trash bag she was about to take outside. 

“(Nickname)-“ 

She’d quickly grab your arms as you stumbled forward, misjudging the gravity of your own weight. You’d snort, your head hung low in a drunken blur. 

“I missed you~” You lazily wrap your arms around her. 

Beth would sigh but clearly find this humorous. She guided you to a couch a little away from the others, closer to the window. “Alright, cmon now.” She’d sit you down and watch as you fully sunk into the cushions. “Stay here, I’ll get you some water.”

Just as she was about to walk off, you’d loosely grab her hand. 

“Mm… nuh uh. Stay here.” You drunkenly demanded, yanking her down onto the couch. Beth allowed it to happen, smiling with a fake reluctance. 

“Here I thought you passed out like thing one and two.” She’d gesture back with her thumb to the sleeping boys. You blew air from your lips, flicking your wrist.

 “Nah… was hanging out with the others, but I like you better, you know.”

You smile lazily at her, resting your head on your hand. The nearby firelight gently casting a faint glow to half of your face from afar. Beth’s eyes widen ever so slightly, her expression changing softer so subtly. Her heart having skipped a beat. 

Joke

(“Such a way with words.”)

Sentimental

(“I like you too.”)

Choose Your Story: https://www.quotev.com/story/16765055/Promises-Until-Dawn-X-Reader-GAMEBOOK-PT-1/1

[atommadly]

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 ✓ undercover mission. somehow y/n and harry or nash got tasked with retrieving an item. club scene or black tie event maybe?  y/n not used to sneaking and blending in, wells assuring them that they're fine (both with looks and skills), and uh oh bad guy guards get suspicious of the two and what's that? the only thing they could do is to make out as cover? and there's no waaay its going to turn into something more... right? ;))

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Nash Wells x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | None.

Masterlist

“Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is as follows…”

Cisco’s voice crackled in your earpiece, and though his humor usually earned a smile from you, tonight, it only made you more nervous.

The limousine rolled to a smooth stop in front of an enormous mansion, its grand façade bathed in soft, golden light. The door opened, and Nash extended his hand toward you with a surprising gentleness.

You hesitated only for a moment before taking it, stepping out onto the gravel driveway. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but glance at him. Nash Wells—who usually looked like he’d just stepped off the set of Indiana Jones—was barely recognizable in his tailored three-piece suit. The crisp lines and immaculate fit seemed so at odds with the rugged adventurer you were used to seeing. Yet, somehow, it suited him perfectly, and you had to admit, he cleaned up well.

“…You’re about to crash the fanciest party in all of Central City,” Cisco continued, his voice light and teasing as if you weren’t about to walk into enemy territory. “Y/N, don’t forget—you’re supposed to be a filthy rich socialite. Nash is your husband. You were both invited by the chief of police, who’s an old friend of tonight’s host.”

You straightened your posture, smoothing down the hem of the evening gown you’d borrowed for the occasion. The dress shimmered under the mansion’s lights, a cascade of silver fabric that clung to your frame in all the right places. You weren’t used to wearing something so glamorous, and the weight of it—along with the jewelry Cisco insisted you wear—made you feel slightly out of place.

“How do I look?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light as you adjusted the diamond necklace resting against your collarbone.

“Like you belong here,” Nash replied without hesitation, his tone lacking the sarcasm you’d expected. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long before he added, “Relax. You’ve got this.”

His confidence in you was oddly reassuring, even if your nerves still fluttered.

As you ascended the marble steps, the low hum of conversation and the faint sound of an orchestra spilled out from the open doors. Inside, the grand foyer was a scene straight out of a movie—crystal chandeliers, polished floors, and guests dressed to the nines, laughing and mingling as waiters weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne.

Cisco’s voice broke the spell. “Alright, lovebirds, you’re looking for a small black briefcase. Intel says it’s either locked in the study or somewhere near the main ballroom. Blend in, act natural, and for the love of everything holy, don’t blow your cover.”

You glanced at Nash, who flashed you a crooked smile as he offered his arm. “Shall we, darling?” he said, his voice dripping with charm.

You looped your arm through his, plastering on what you hoped was a convincing smile. “Lead the way, dear.”

The words felt strange coming out of your mouth, but the warmth of Nash’s arm beneath your hand steadied you as you stepped into the lion’s den. This was just a mission. Play the part, grab the briefcase, and get out.

How hard could it be?

Once inside, your breath caught in your throat. The mansion was enormous, every inch radiating luxury. Polished marble stairs swept upward in a grand curve, a dazzling crystal chandelier sparkled overhead, and sleek, towering columns gleamed under the warm golden light. The air itself seemed saturated with wealth, sophistication, and power.

Guests filled the space, dressed in their finest attire, their conversations blending with the soft strains of classical music wafting through the room. You felt your nerves spike again, a familiar unease settling in your chest. Inwardly, you cursed Nash for volunteering you for this infiltration mission.

Team Flash had intercepted intel about a chemical compound capable of permanently erasing Barry’s speed. It was the only substance in existence that could stop The Flash, and letting it remain out in the world was not an option. The compound had been auctioned off to one of the city’s wealthiest collectors, and it was now securely hidden somewhere in this very mansion.

Naturally, when the plan required retrieving it without a trace, all eyes turned to Nash. His background in artifact recovery��and let’s face it, thievery—made him the obvious choice. But Nash, with his typical bluntness, pointed out that attending an event like this alone would draw unnecessary attention. He insisted a pair would raise fewer suspicions, and somehow, you ended up being his chosen partner.

You weren’t a meta, a superhero, or a cop. You were just a scientist. The idea of stepping into the field for something as dangerous as this mission had you panicking from the start.

You’d tried to decline. Tried to argue that you weren’t qualified. But Nash had flashed one of those maddening, self-assured smiles of his, the kind that always seemed to render your brain useless. You’d stammered out some incomprehensible response, and Cisco, quick to seize the opportunity, declared it a yes before you could backtrack.

And now, here you were—dressed in an evening gown that felt too tight and too sparkly, standing in a room full of people who wouldn’t think twice about turning you over to security if they suspected you didn’t belong.

You tightened your grip on Nash’s arm, feeling the muscles beneath his suit shift as he leaned slightly toward you. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, meant only for you. “No one’s looking at us. Just act like you’ve been doing this your whole life.”

His calm tone irritated you almost as much as it comforted you. You shot him a sidelong glance. “Easy for you to say, Mr. Professional Treasure Hunter. I’m just a lab rat playing dress-up.”

He smirked, his lips quirking in a way that made you want to smack him—or maybe kiss him. It was hard to tell these days. “Well, lab rat, you look stunning. Own it.”

Despite your nerves, his words planted a small seed of confidence. You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus. The mission was what mattered. The compound had to be secured, and you and Nash were the only ones who could do it.

Now you just had to survive the night.

You let Nash guide you, moving from room to room with practiced ease. He’d explained earlier that the key to pulling this off was visibility—people had to see you both mingling, making small talk, and blending in. If things went sideways later, having been seen engaging with the other guests would establish an alibi. It was a clever strategy, one you reluctantly admitted made sense.

What didn’t make sense, though, was how comfortable Nash seemed in this environment. For someone who spent more time exploring ancient ruins or tinkering with equipment alone, he moved through the crowd like he belonged there. He played his role effortlessly, exuding a natural elegance that made him look every bit the charming, wealthy husband he was pretending to be.

He greeted guests with a disarming smile, a firm handshake, and just the right amount of charm to keep their attention. Women, in particular, seemed drawn to him, their gazes lingering as he passed. You hated to admit it, but he fit in here in a way that left you feeling out of place.

Your mind wandered back to a few hours earlier when you’d first seen him in that three-piece suit. You’d barely recognized him. Gone was the rugged adventurer with the well-worn jacket and cargo pants. In his place stood a man who could’ve walked straight out of a fashion magazine. For a moment, you’d actually forgotten how to breathe.

It wasn’t just the clothes, though they certainly helped. It was the way he carried himself, the confidence in his stride, the slight smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. You’d felt heat rush to your cheeks when you realized just how good he looked.

What you hadn’t noticed right away was that he’d had a similar reaction when you walked into the Cortex in your silver gown. His usual quick wit had failed him as he stammered out a clumsy compliment, something about how you "cleaned up nicely." It had been so out of character for him that it made you blush even more. For a brief moment, you’d felt beautiful and, surprisingly, like you belonged.

That feeling had quickly faded now that you were here, surrounded by women who looked like they stepped off a runway. Their silky hair, flawless makeup, and effortless posture made them seem untouchable. In contrast, you felt painfully out of your depth. The heels Cisco had insisted you wear were a constant challenge, and you were sure your awkwardness was obvious in the way you held your glass or hesitated too long before answering a question.

You glanced at Nash, trying to mimic his confidence. He was in the middle of a conversation with a group of guests, leaning in slightly as he laughed at something one of them said. He caught your eye and gave you a reassuring wink, as if to say, You’ve got this.

You forced a smile and tried to relax, but it was easier said than done. You weren’t used to this kind of setting, and the weight of the mission pressed down on you. Still, you took a deep breath and tried to channel some of the confidence Nash seemed to have in spades.

Even if you didn’t feel like you belonged, maybe you could fake it just long enough to get through the night.

After some time, you and Nash had spoken to almost everyone at the party, carefully building your alibi. The guests had been drinking heavily, which made them more relaxed and less observant—a lucky break for the two of you.

Leaning close to your ear, Nash murmured, “Time to put the plan into action.” His voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you shook it off and nodded.

He took your hand without hesitation, guiding you discreetly toward the grand staircase at the back of the mansion. You followed his lead, trying to act natural as the two of you slipped past the clusters of guests. Somehow, you managed to avoid the vigilant eyes of the guards, though you weren’t entirely sure how. Maybe luck was on your side tonight—or maybe Nash was just that good.

Reaching the second floor, Nash immediately got to work. 

After some time, you and Nash had spoken to almost everyone at the party, carefully building your alibi. The guests had been drinking heavily, which made them more relaxed and less observant—a lucky break for the two of you.

Leaning close to your ear, Nash murmured, “Time to put the plan into action.” His voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you shook it off and nodded.

He took your hand without hesitation, guiding you discreetly toward the grand staircase at the back of the mansion. You followed his lead, trying to act natural as the two of you slipped past the clusters of guests. Somehow, you managed to avoid the vigilant eyes of the guards, though you weren’t entirely sure how. Maybe luck was on your side tonight—or maybe Nash was just that good.

Reaching the second floor, Nash immediately got to work. He handed you a small comms device before pulling out his lockpicking tools. “Keep an eye out,” he said, his voice low but calm. You stood by the door, your heart racing, while he knelt in front of the first locked room and began picking the lock.

When the door clicked open, you both slipped inside. The room was grand but held nothing of importance. After a quick but thorough search, you moved on.

Door after door, it was the same routine: Nash expertly bypassing locks while you kept watch, searching for the briefcase that held the chemical compound you needed to secure. Tension hung in the air, but Nash seemed unfazed, his focus unshakable.

But by the time he started working on the third door, you noticed something. The guards below were starting to look restless. They weren’t just standing at their posts anymore; they were moving.

“Nash,” you whispered urgently, glancing over your shoulder.

He looked up from the lock, his brows furrowing. “What is it?”

“Look,” you murmured, nodding toward the staircase.

Nash followed your gaze just in time to see one of the guards ascending the stairs, his hand resting on the earpiece in his ear as if responding to a command.

“Okay,” Nash said, his voice steady but quick. “Relax.” He grabbed your hand again and pulled you toward one of the rooms he’d unlocked earlier.

You barely had time to process before he was closing the door behind you and pressing you back against it. His body blocked yours from view as he peered through the crack he left open, watching the guard.

The air between you was charged. His breaths were steady, but you could feel the faint brush of them against your cheek. You barely dared to breathe, afraid the sound might alert the guard just steps away.

Nash stayed completely still, his focus locked on the hallway outside, but you couldn’t help noticing how close he was. Your heart raced as your senses seemed to heighten—the warmth of his hand still gripping yours, the faint scent of cologne mixed with leather and something distinctly him, and the feel of his chest brushing yours every time he inhaled.

The guard lingered at the top of the stairs for what felt like an eternity before turning around and heading back down. Only when his footsteps faded did Nash finally close the door fully.

He exhaled a quiet breath of relief before shifting his gaze to you. And for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

His hand was still braced against the door above your shoulder, his body just inches from yours. The dim light from the hallway cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his expression as his eyes locked on yours.

Neither of you moved, the tension crackling in the small space between you. Time felt frozen, suspended in that fleeting moment where the danger outside faded into something else entirely.

Both of you seemed to snap out of the haze at the same time, though it took you a moment longer to catch your breath. Nash cleared his throat softly, his hand falling from the doorframe as he stepped back, giving you some space.

“Right,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “We still have a mission to finish.”

You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice. He opened the door cautiously, peeking into the hallway to make sure it was clear before gesturing for you to follow. His hand brushed against the small of your back as he guided you out, a barely-there touch, but enough to send another shiver down your spine.

The two of you moved further down the corridor, keeping to the shadows. Nash seemed entirely focused on the task at hand, scanning each door for signs of what you were looking for. Meanwhile, you struggled to shake the lingering tension in your chest.

Your heart was still pounding, though you told yourself it was just the adrenaline from almost getting caught. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t just the danger of the mission—it was him. The way he had stood so close, his sharp eyes flickering between the door and your face, his voice steady even when yours faltered.

You didn’t know why his presence had affected you so much, why your pulse still raced even as you followed him down the quiet hallway. You’d worked with Nash before, had spent hours in his company without issue. So why now, in the middle of an infiltration, did he have you so off balance?

“Here,” Nash whispered, breaking your train of thought. He pointed to a door at the end of the corridor, the only one with a keypad instead of a traditional lock. “If it’s anywhere, it’s in there.”

He crouched by the door, pulling out a small device from his pocket to override the keypad. You watched him work, his hands moving with the kind of confidence that came from years of experience.

As you waited, you tried to focus on the mission, on the objective ahead. But even as you stood there, your heart refused to settle, your thoughts drifting back to the moment in that room.

Nash tilted his head toward you, his voice low and calm. “Almost in. Keep an eye out.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to look down the hall. 

As you turned to keep watch, your eyes widened in alarm. Three guards were climbing the stairs, their voices low but sharp. Panic gripped you as you edged toward the corner of the hallway to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Two guests are missing,” one of them said, his tone clipped. “They’ve been off-camera for too long. The boss wants them found.”

“Alright,” another replied. “You two take this hallway. I’ll head back down to check the kitchens and the garden.”

Your heart was pounding now, every instinct screaming at you to act.

“Nash!” you whispered urgently, barely able to keep your voice steady.

He immediately straightened, abandoning the keypad and moving to your side. His sharp eyes followed your gaze, locking onto the approaching guards.

“They’re coming this way,” you hissed, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Nash didn’t reply right away. You could see the wheels turning in his head as he quickly assessed the situation, but time wasn’t on your side. The guards were already too close, their footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway.

There wasn’t time to pick another lock, no time to escape. You needed a distraction, something that would throw them off. Your instincts kicked in, and before you could think it through, you acted.

Grabbing Nash by the lapels of his perfectly tailored suit, you yanked him toward you and crashed your lips against his.

The force of the kiss pushed him back against the wall, right next to the keypad device that was still whirring as it attempted to crack the code. For a moment, Nash froze, caught completely off guard. But then, as the sound of the guards’ boots grew louder, he relaxed into the kiss, his hands coming to rest lightly on your waist.

You pressed closer, your heart hammering in your chest—not just from the danger, but from the sheer intensity of the moment. Nash’s lips were warm and surprisingly soft, moving against yours in a way that made your head spin. The world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you, lost in a kiss that was far more convincing—and far more overwhelming—than you’d intended.

The kiss was intense—ardent, urgent, and noisy in the quiet hallway. When the guards rounded the corner, they stopped dead in their tracks. Seeing the two of you tangled together, they exchanged knowing smirks and chuckled under their breaths, muttering something about “lovebirds.”

One of the guards raised his radio, speaking into it with a tone laced with amusement. “It’s all good, boss. We found them. They’re, uh… preoccupied, if you catch my drift.”

They lingered for another moment, grinning, before turning and walking away, their laughter fading as they disappeared down the hall.

But you didn’t stop. Even after they were gone, you kept kissing Nash—longer than you should have, longer than was necessary. The urgency shifted into something softer, something you didn’t want to admit felt right.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were gasping for air, your breaths mingling in the small space between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the tension hanging heavy in the air.

You found yourself staring at Nash. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown, and his expression was a mix of shock and something much harder to decipher. His lips were swollen, red, and glistening, his normally crisp suit now slightly disheveled. He looked… breathtaking. And, somewhere deep inside, you felt a flicker of satisfaction knowing that youhad put him in that state.

But then reality set in, crashing down like a bucket of cold water. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you realized what had just happened. You fumbled to gather your composure, clearing your throat in a desperate attempt to break the silence.

“Uh… well, the distraction worked,” you said, your voice a little higher than usual as you tried to sound casual.

Nash blinked, as if coming out of a trance. “Uh,” he said, eloquently, clearly still dazed. His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, and for a second, it looked like he might say something more. Instead, he shook his head, running a hand through his hair as if trying to snap himself out of it.

“Right,” he finally managed, his voice rough. “Yeah. Distraction. Good call.”

You both stood there for a beat longer than necessary, neither of you willing—or maybe able—to move. Finally, Nash straightened his suit with a quick, almost nervous gesture and cleared his throat.

“We, uh… we should keep going,” he said, his usual confidence faltering slightly.

“Yeah,” you agreed quickly, avoiding his eyes. “Right. The mission.”

But as you both turned toward the door Nash had been working on, you couldn’t help the way your heart still raced, or how your lips still tingled from the kiss. And judging by the way Nash kept sneaking glances at you, you weren’t the only one affected.

It wasn’t until hours later that you finally felt like you could breathe again. The mission had been a success.

Nash had managed to hack the lock on the door, find the briefcase, and guide both of you out without drawing any suspicion. It had been touch and go for a while, but somehow, you’d pulled it off. Back at STAR Labs, Cisco and Caitlin were thrilled to have recovered the chemical compound. They planned to destroy it but not before developing an antidote—just in case the villains managed to recreate the formula.

Now, the adrenaline had worn off, leaving you alone in the STAR Labs lounge. You sat on the couch, wrestling with the straps of your high heels, which had been torturing your feet all night. Finally slipping them off, you let out a sigh of relief, wiggling your toes and leaning back against the cushions. The mission was over, but the tension of the evening still lingered in your mind.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up, surprised, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw Nash standing in the doorway.

He looked... different. The polished, put-together man from earlier was gone. His jacket hung open, his bowtie was gone, and the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of his chest. His hair was slightly mussed, as though he’d run his fingers through it one too many times, and the faintest shadow of exhaustion softened his usual sharpness. He looked relaxed, confident, and completely breathtaking.

“You look like you just fought a war,” he said with a smirk, leaning casually against the doorframe.

You laughed softly, gesturing to the discarded heels at your feet. “I might as well have. These things should be classified as weapons.”

He chuckled and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. “I’d believe it. You could probably take someone out with one of those if you threw it hard enough.”

The teasing tone in his voice was familiar, comforting, but there was something else beneath it tonight. Something quieter, almost hesitant.

“So,” Nash said again, his voice quieter this time, almost hesitant. He shifted his weight, his smirk completely gone now as he studied you. His hands fidgeted slightly in his pockets, and for a man who always seemed so confident, he suddenly looked... unsure.

“There’s something I’ve gotta ask,” he started, his tone unusually awkward. He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. “About earlier.”

Your stomach twisted, and your heart began to pound. You didn’t need him to clarify; you knew exactly what he meant.

“The kiss,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur, as if saying the words out loud made them more real. He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe he was even bringing it up. “Was that… I mean, was it just a distraction? Or was it—” He stopped himself, looking away for a moment before his gaze met yours again.

You froze, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his expression. Nash Wells, the man who always had a snarky comment or a cocky grin ready, now looked like he was bracing himself for rejection.

“I just… I need to know,” he continued, his voice softer now. “Because for me… it didn’t feel like it was just a distraction.”

Your cheeks burned, the words catching in your throat as you tried to respond. “I… it was… I mean, it was a distraction. But—” You stumbled, your thoughts a jumbled mess as you searched for the right thing to say.

Nash tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched you. Whatever he saw there made something shift in his expression. The hesitation melted away, replaced by quiet determination.

“It wasn’t just a distraction,” he said softly, almost as if he was answering his own question.

Before you could protest or try to explain yourself, he stepped closer, slowly closing the space between you. His hand reached up, brushing lightly against your cheek, his touch warm and deliberate.

Your breath hitched as his face moved closer to yours, his eyes searching for any sign of hesitation. When he didn’t find any, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was completely different from before.

This wasn’t rushed or fueled by adrenaline. It was soft, tender, and filled with a quiet intensity that made your heart ache. For a second, you couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Then you let your eyes flutter shut, leaning into him and letting the world fade away.

Time seemed to stop, the chaos of the day disappearing as you lost yourself in the warmth of him. When he finally pulled back, it was slow, as though he didn’t want the moment to end.

Nash stayed close, his forehead resting lightly against yours, his hand still cupping your cheek. His breath mingled with yours as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Thought so,” he said, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your nerves still fluttering but your heart feeling lighter. Maybe this wasn’t how you expected the night to end, but in that moment, you couldn’t imagine it ending any other way.

Taglist:

@gabriella-aesthetic @dontwanttobeanamericanidiot @riversong11dw