#and then immediately turning that off (unless needed) as soon as the job is finished / they're back at base ??

[mvnces]

something about how easily decker falls into a guard dog role without even meaning to

[suga-kookiemonster]

ctrl-alt-del | jjk (teaser)

summary⇢ you graduated bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, but, to your extreme disappointment, your big girl job isn't turning out to be nearly as exciting as you thought it would be. still, you're holding out hope that your talents will soon be recognized and your coworkers will stop trying to include you in their gossip sessions. enter jungkook, the quiet IT guy who's gradually making your days more bearable. (and if you find him easy on the eyes, that's nobody's business but yours.) pairing⇢ jungkook/reader teaser word count⇢ 1.4k genre⇢ smut | humor | office!au warnings⇢ nothing too bad for this teaser! just a mention of oral

a/n⇢this fic has literally been sitting in my wips for YEARS lmao. i feel like it's finally time to set it free 🕊️✨ it's looking like it's gonna lean more towards pwp, but there's definitely still enough plot in there to keep it interesting. not sure when it will be up, but wanted to share a snippet to get your thoughts and get myself excited to finish the last leg--fingers crossed for the next month or so 🤞🏾🙌🏾💜

When you graduated top of your class with a marketing degree and a job already lined up, you weren’t big-headed to assume you would be given a lot in the beginning. No, you knew that you were the new kid on the block and needed to prove yourself first, needed to work your way up from the bottom. But what you definitely didn’t anticipate was working up from thefigurative trenches, almost exclusively doing busywork—constantly making coffee runs, catering business lunches, printing out endless spreadsheets.

Eighty-thousand dollars in debt, and you are a glorified intern.

You’re positively itching to hit the ground running and get your hands dirty, your job isn’t too bad. The people there are all nice and welcoming, the complimentary coffee in the break room is decent enough for your dwindling bank account, and every couple of weeks, the company sponsors an employee barbecue were everyone can fraternize and enjoy free food.

“Apparently it fosters unity and teamwork,” your coworker Joy informs you as you both stand in the food line. “Seokjin—that’s our CEO—is really big on unity and teamwork.”

Joy is also a member of your marketing team. Though as sweet as can be, she has no filter, and thus always has a lot to say about everything—which has helped you when it comes to learning the ropes about the company, but has also had you clutching your imaginary pearls in some situations where you found it inappropriate. Despite only being a year older than you, her title of Marketing Associate (instead of your measly Assistant)means that she technically outranks you, though she doesn’t usually enforce that fact (unless there was something that needed to be copied or filed, of course). Still, she immediately took you under her wing when you first started, and she is the closest person to a friend you have at work (even though her daily coffee order is always so ridiculous, you are convinced that she has to be fucking with you—or at least engaging in some form of mild hazing.).

“I think it’s nice,” you reply. “I’ll never say no to free food, and they let us out early and everything.”

“I mean, pretty sure you can get the hotdogs twelve in a pack at the dollar store,” Joy quips, raising her eyebrows at you pointedly. “But sometimes the boys from Sales take their shirts off and play soccer, so there’s that.”

Your eyes dart to said Sales boys against your will, gaze drawn to Jung Hoseok as he chats animatedly with his teammates by the tables. You’ve only spoken to him once or twice, but his fiery red hair and even brighter smile caught your attention immediately, your heart rate accelerating at the sight of him in hallways mere days into starting your new position. Who better to have a mild work crush on than a sweet-talking salesman who winks at you sometimes in passing?

An appreciative noise has you turning back around, embarrassed at being caught ogling how shapely Hoseok’s butt looks in his dress pants today, but it’s just Wendy from accounting, Joy’s best friend and thus a harmless, familiar face. Wendy has cut in front of a few editors to join you and Joy, and the way that she smiles at you lets you know she’s up to no good. “He’s cute, huh?” she asks, leaning towards you conspiratorially. “I would definitely give him the good ol’ suck behind the dumpsters over there, if you catch my drift.”

“Err…yeah, I do,” you reply awkwardly. She had been explicitly clear—keyword explicit—so there definitely isn’t any room for misunderstandings. Is this truly appropriate work function conversation? From the way the editors behind you are politely clearing their throats, you think not.

“Behind the dumpster?” Joy asks curiously. “He’s standing right next to some sturdy tables that I, for one, would take great advantage of—”

“I’m gonna go get us some drinks,” you announce loudly, your neck heating up. “Can you grab me a hot dog, Joy?”

“Sure,” she says dismissively, already distracted by her sudden debate with Wendy about the most convenient place to suck off salesman Jung.

The whole conversation is making you uncomfortable. You are not a prude—far from it—but there is a time and place for everything, and your coworkers’ blasé attitude towards speaking about inappropriate topics at company functions on company time rattles you a bit. So instead of engaging in the risqué discussion further, you make your way to the cluster of brightly-colored coolers that presumably hold beverages, sidling up to the only other person lingering the area.

“Anything good?” you ask cordially, making your coworker, who had apparently been deep in thought while considering his beverage options, startle a bit.

He’s tall, his large frame covered in the appropriate business casual attire of nice jeans and a powder-blue buttonup. When he turns his head to look at you, you’re met with large, dark eyes blinking in surprise from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Said eyes dart around for a moment before determining that you were, in fact, speaking to him.

The man clears his throat. “Just the usual,” he says, voice soft. Timid.

“The usual?” you repeat. There are little hoops dangling from his earlobes, and you brush off your surprise at seeing them, returning your gaze to the coolers. Water, a clear soda, a cola. “The basics, you mean. Well, can’t really complain, right? Seeing as it’s all free. I think it’s really nice of them.”

Your companion seems surprised at your words. “It is,” he agrees softly, eyes meeting yours for a second before dropping back down to the cooler. “Um, are you...are you new?”

“Damn, I guess my cover’s blown.” You shoot him a wry smile. “Yeah, I just started a couple of weeks ago. What gave it away?”

“It’s just—no one else here really cares about these barbecues anymore,” he admits, looking at you, but not quite. More like, in your direction. “Everyone has forgotten to appreciate the little things.”

“Nothing is a given,” you shrug. “So you need to appreciate things when you can. And besides, those lots of little things can really add up without you realizing it.”

He finally seems to look at you properly, and the weight of his large, gentle brown eyes throws you off for a second. “They can,” he agrees, lips slowly drifting up. 

“What do we have over here?” a loud voice interrupts, a hand falling to your shoulder. You look up, and are met with the brightness of salesman Jung.

“Ah,” Hoseok says with a wink, reaching into the cooler. “I love Sprite.”

“Me too,” you reply automatically, and then immediately want to smack yourself. Because you don’t—carbonated beverages make you break out. But your mouth had formed the lie without your permission.

Embarrassed, you reach into the cooler, grabbing three water bottles. “See you later,” you squeak, avoiding eye contact as you make your escape.

Joy and Wendy are already watching you when you return to where they have procured a table, and when you hand them their waters, Joy raises an eyebrow. “I was wondering how long you were going to talk to that IT guy.”

“Yeah, and why did you leave when Hoseok showed up?” Wendy pouted. “_____, the universe is only going to give you so many opportunities. If you don’t want the ball, then pass it to me! Goddamn.”

“IT guy?” you ask, hoping to slide past that last remark.

“Yeah. His name is Jungkook, I think? Mostly works with the printers, started a couple months ago.” Joy shrugs, obviously disinterested by the topic. She reaches for the ketchup bottle in the center of the table and squirts some on her hot dog. “This is the first time I’ve seen him at a barbecue, though. Honestly, I’m surprised he even came out, because the IT dudes generally keep to themselves. The rarely leave their little tower,” she adds with a dismissive wave.

Wendy scoffs. “Who cares about Jeremy! Hurry up and eat, I’m sure Sales is gonna start their soccer game soon.”

“Soccer game?” you ask.

“The sales department likes to play soccer during these things,” Joy informs you. Her expression brightens. “Hey, maybe Hoseok will take his shirt off again! Let us pray.”

To your coworkers’ disappointment, Hoseok did not take his shirt off. But they certainly had a good time watching him run back and forth across the grass.

[sat0sugu-angst]

Fight Me, Fuck Me

a/n: happy valentiiiiiine's day!! Sorry this is a lil late i ended up picking up a shift at work so I wasn't able to finish it until this evening (which is kinda ironic ig but whatever). I seen a vid kinda similar (but less horny) on tt n couldn't resist imagining you and bkg getting in a fight on date night and lowkey being all hot n bothered with how yall are mean to each other 🙈 then w V-day around the corner I thought why the hell not lmao

wc: 3.5k

cw: afab!reader, reader is described as feminine but no pronouns are used, prohero!bkg, reader has a healing quirk and works at the hospital, yall can be toxic but that's why it's fun, established relationship, pet names (babe, my love), bakugo pays a lot of attention to your ass and thighs, reader and bkg are switchy asf, multiple orgasms, creampie, squirting, light spanking

all characters aged up +24

MDNI

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You were silent as you continued doing your makeup, looking past yourself in the mirror to find red eyes focused on you.

Considering it was Katsuki, there wasn't a lot of aggression in his expression, but still, his eyes on you pissed you off. "Can I help you?" You asked, your attitude seeping into your tone.

He sneered, pushing off the bed and walking into the bathroom. "Not unless you can hurry that lil' ass up." He shot back. "We're gonna be late."

You and your boyfriend had impossible schedules. With you regularly pulling doubles at the hospital and Katsuki working his way up the hero rankings, you didn't often get a night off together for date night. Even the important couples holiday, Valentine's Day, was a day neither of you could take off. So this year, you decided to celebrate your own V-day, nearly two and a half weeks after the actual holiday.

The problem was you had mixed up your days, rushing home from the hospital in a flurry after getting a confirmation call that afternoon about the reservation from Katsuki’s assistant. You felt guilty, especially since he'd taken on planning the date night. But in typical Katsuki fashion, he'd blown up at you, yelling his head off as soon as you walked through the door. Then, despite your guilt, you were pissed at him.

"I told you on Tuesday that I was gonna be working today." You raised your brow, looking toward the bathroom with lips pursed. "If we're late, it's because you don't pay attention to anything I tell you."

"Babe, I already said I was sorry." You huff, unsatisfied. You turn back to your face in the mirror, reaching for your eyeliner. "And you told me that while I was in bed. You think I can remember the shit you tell me when I'm half asleep?"

You narrowed your eyes, trying to keep your hand steady as you did your eyeliner fuming mad. "Nice apology, Katsuki." You said dryly.

He emerged from the bathroom, and as he passed behind you toward the door, you caught a whiff of the cologne you'd gotten him for his birthday. God, it smelled so fucking good. Normally when he wore it, it was only a matter of time before you were on top of him, unbuttoning his belt. Not now, though. Not unless you were gonna use the belt to strangle him. "Don't fuckin' talk to me about apologies. You're the one who forgot about tonight in the first place."

"I didn't forget!" You whip around to face him. You had crazy eyes, you knew, but fuck, your boyfriend made you feel crazy sometimes. "We had different dates down, and I couldn't exactly leave work immediately. There was a bus accident today. The hospital was overrun. I can't just leave when people need me."

"People are always gonna need you. They're always gonna need me. Doesn't mean we don't need each other." You stilled, recognizing your own words. You'd said them early in the relationship, the first time your jobs were making it hard to be together.

"Are you trying to make me feel guilty? I can't even count how many dates we've had to cancel because you had a mission! But oh, because it's my job, it's a bad thing to be dedicated? Do you not take my job seriously?"

He groaned. "Babe. Do you know what I had to do to make tonight special for us? The strings I had to pull to get us a spot at this restaurant for tonight? If we were just gonna sit at home in our fucking underwear, it wouldn't be a big deal."

You were glaring, but turned your attention back to the real task at hand. "You know what, I can't even fucking talk to you right now. I need to finish getting ready." You could argue, or you could do your makeup. You could not do both.

He let out a bitter laugh. "Well, thank god for that!" He yells back, walking out of the room. You flushed with anger, the sudden urge to throw something at him. But you couldn't chase after him to scream anymore; if you really were late, you'd never hear the end of it.

Ten minutes later, you were off, heading toward the restaurant in silence. Well, silent except for the occasional passive aggressive sighs and grumblings about the music you passed back and forth during the twenty minutes it took to get there.

When you got there, the host offered to take your coats, and Katsuki’s hands were on your shoulders, helping you out of yours. The rough pads of his fingertips grazed over your shoulder, and you were acutely aware of his breath ghosting along your neck.

Fuck, you think, annoyed at the way goosebumps rise along your skin, always like a live wire when it came to his touch. You had to fight your body's urge to lean into his touch, your anger still simmering but somehow making everything hotter, more volatile. You needed to keep it together. You couldn't let him win the argument because you were a little horny.

The restaurant was elegant, elevated. The low light was warm against the white tablecloths, and you were glad you had purchased a new dress for the occasion.

Katsuki was dressed to impress, too; charcoal colored trousers and a black cashmere sweater. When he took off his own coat, you had to remind yourself not to check him out. At least not obviously.

You followed the host toward your table, Katsuki behind you. “Are you gonna be pissy the whole night?” He asked as you were sitting down, realizing the attitude had yet to leave your expression. He couldn’t admit the reason it’d taken him a second to realize you were still pissed was because he’d been too focused on the way your dress hugged your curves, or how he had wanted to run his hands over your hips as he’d taken your coat. No, he wouldn’t admit the reason his ears were red was because he couldn’t stop thinking about dragging your ass to a restroom, or back to the car, to fuck you so hard you forget about why you were mad in the first place.

You sneered at him, about to pop off with an insult, and maybe a curse or three, but you were greeted quickly by your waiter.

Katsuki ordered wine for you, and a dirty martini for him.

When the waiter left, you shot a narrowed look to your boyfriend. “I’m not pissy.” It was a blatant lie, but you couldn't be bothered to care about being fair.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure. You have been since you got home.”

“Well, I kinda had a shitty day,” you said, honestly. “Can’t imagine why you thought yelling at me would make me feel better.”

“Babe, really? You were supposed to be off today, then you text me that you were staying late. And you still stayed later than you said. I almost lost the fuckin’ table tryna change the reservation. We don't get to do this often, I'd like my fucking girlfriend to at least pretend to be excited about it.”

You groan a little, trying to not be loud and draw attention. This is not the place you wanted to have this argument, especially with someone as explosive as Katsuki, but you weren’t ready to concede, because if you did, he’d think he was right. “I told you since last week that I’d picked up the extra shift, on this day, and you didn’t say anything. I didn't do it to spite you, and I don’t really appreciate being blamed for an honest mistake as if I did it to piss you off. We’re here, aren’t we?”

“Yes, and this is just how I wanted to spend the evening with you.” He said dryly, sneering and turning his attention to the menu, effectively ending the conversation.

The rest of dinner, and even the drive home, was much of the same. Neither of you were able to drop the bickering long enough to really talk about anything. Over the course of the meal, one martini had turned into two, and you’d finished off the bottle of wine. You both were still mad, senses dulled, and emotions amplified. When you glared at him, you couldn’t help but focus on the shape of his eyes, how pretty he looked even when he was mad.

And all he could think about was how he wanted to fuck the attitude right out of you. Every sneer, every glare sent his way, pissed him off, but he couldn’t deny how fucking sexy you were when you were mad. Without even trying, you had him half hard in his pants, like he was some fucking teenager on his first date. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, even by the time you’d gotten home.

He rounded the car to I open the door for you, offering you a hand. You raised your brow at him, but let him help you out the car. Katsuki set his hand on the small of your back, just barely above your ass, only because he needed to touch you. He wanted to get you hot and bothered, until you were begging for him.

The heat from his hand did stir something low in your stomach, and you tried not to show how he affected you, not even looking in his direction. As his hand dropped from your back, his fingertips grazed your ass, and you rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door. “Don’t think that’s gonna make me forget I’m mad at you.”

"Tsk," he clicks his tongue at you, pushing open the door and flashing that smug smile he knew you couldn't resist. “You can be mad at me and still want me to fuck you.” He said shamelessly.

You felt your face heat at his boldness, and you had to look away, focusing on the door as he pushed it open. He moved, if only slightly, for you to walk in passed him, and you fought to maintain your composure. You loved it when he was like this, and he knew it was a sure way to get you in the mood and give whatever he asked of you.

He wasn’t wrong, either. You weren’t even really sure why you were still fighting, other than that you were being stubborn and, in a sick way, loved fighting with your boyfriend.

You walked past him, keeping your expression level. Katsuki watched you move through the house, following you into your shared bedroom. Despite your efforts, he saw right through you; he was certain he could have you apologizing and begging him to give you attention.

But you were determined, and when you wanted, could be even more stubborn than your boyfriend. Through the wine, or maybe because of it, you knew you’d succumb to him eventually. You always did, and happily. Tonight though, you wanted him to fold first.

So, you took your time getting undressed, going so far as to ask for Katsuki’s help unzipping your dress when you could've done it easily, letting it pool around your ankles before you stepping out of it. As you stood in front of your dresser, examining its contents and deciding what pajamas to slip into, Katsuki slipped his hands around your waist, settling on your hipbones. He pulled you back into him, and you felt him, hard, pressing again the small of your back.

You bit your lip, stifling the urge to lean into him, to rub against his erection, or worse, let out the sweet moan that threatened to expose you. After so many years together, he knew exactly what would make you crumble, and fuck, you almost did.

“I’m trying to get ready for bed.” You say instead, voice clipped. You reached for a pair of black shorts from the drawer, but his hand was covering yours, intertwining your fingers. Fighting to keep your expression even, you leveled a glare on him as he leaned over your shoulder. “You really wanna piss me off tonight, don’t you?”

“Definitely wanna do somethin’ to ya.” He shoots back quickly, the thumb at your hip rubbing slow circles into your skin, promising more. You narrowed your eyes. There was no way you could resist him, you needed to act quickly.

You turned around, looking up at him through your lashes. His hand was on your ass now, fingers squeezing and pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand flat on his stomach, trying to put some space between the two of you. You were flushed now, and he knew it. “C’mon,” his finger came up from under your chin, forcing you to look right at him as he smiled sweetly at you. “Don’t be a sore loser. Admit it. You’re turned on.”

You lean up onto your toes, pressing your lips against his, reaching down and untucking his shirt the best you could. He helped you, getting his belt undone and stepping backward out of his slacks as you pushed him back toward the bed.

He was pulling his shirt off as he sat on the edge of the bed, before pawing at your hips so you were sitting in his lap. The heat of him pressed right against you was delicious, and you rolled your hips against him. He swallowed your sighs as your tongues danced together, flushing with pride at the noises you pulled from him.

He was impatient, meeting the wave of your hips with thrusts of hie own. But this pesky fabric between the two of you. "Fuckin’ take these off already.” He grumbled, pulling at the fabric of your underwear where it covered your ass, and you wasted no time getting rid of your last layers of clothing.

He nearly cried out as you lowered yourself on top of him, leaning into you so that you could feel his heavy breath tickling your neck. You allowed yourself to enjoy it momentarily, before pushing his shoulder with a finger so he was laying back on the bed, his legs over the edge of the bed. You squeezed around the tip of his cock as you got used to the stretch. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” You hid your satisfied smile by leaning down, sucking kisses from his chest up his neck. With each hitch of his breath, every moan, you rewarded him, clenching around him, or shifting the angle of your hips, lowering down until he was pressed flush against you.

You were used to the stretch, but with the way he filled you, and the lovely friction against your clit, you could already feel how the tension in your stomach was ready to snap. You needed to calm down before you came undone, biting into his shoulder as you found the rhythm that would make him crumble.

The drag of his cock along your walls had you clenching, and then you started to feel the telltale signs that he was close. His fingers tightened on your hips, almost painfully so, unable to control the way he thrusted up into you.

"You gonna come?" You cooed, sitting up a little, pulling out slowly and dropping down on his cock. He looked so close, his eyes fluttering each time he filled you. His resolve was crumbling, too lost in the feeling of you around him to remember that you were the one who was supposed to be one begging.

"Fuck," He whimpered when you clenched around him. You settled your hands on either side of his chest, leaning forward so you could keep bouncing on his cock. "You wanna come, my love?" You ask, crumbling at how Katsuki blushes under you. He nods, melting for you. You lean forward, pressing a messy kiss against him. You were close, too. If you looked at that expression one more second, you'd come undone.

You shift the angle of your hips, and he let out a clumsy grunt, fingers squeezing the fat of your hips for some stability. "Fuck, baby, just like that. I'm gonna—"

That's when you lift your hips, until only his tip is inside you, and still. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock. He cries out, a moan turned sour as deny him. You smile down at him, and he knew by that look in your eyes that he was in for it.

You leaned down, lips brushing over his slightly as you said, "I'd like to see you beg me to let you come." He couldn't even find it in himself to be mad, not with the way you looked above him, your hair messy from him running his fingers through it, the light sheen of sweat on your skin from riding him so well. He doesn't care who was supposed to punish who, not when he was so close to coming, not if all it would take was a little begging.

You continued edging him, bouncing up and down on him until he got close, then cockwarming him until he calmed down. His sweet pleas grew more desperate. You almost let him when you came yourself, squeezing around him uncontrollably as you stilled on top of him to ride out your orgasm, and he nearly lost it at the feel of you so tight around him.

But even though you came, you weren't done with him, continuing to roll your hips over him, looking right into his eyes as you fuck him.

He has tears pricking his eyes, and he's whimpering. “Baby, please. Please let me come. I’m fucking sorry for yelling at you today. I got lost in wanting things to be perfect, but I was an ass for getting mad.” Your expression softens for your boyfriend, and before you can even speak, he’s leaning in. His kiss is rough, hurried, and he’s thrusting up into you harder now than before, shifting so he hits that spot that has you moaning into his mouth. Unexpectedly, you fall into your next orgasm, and he feels you clenching. “Baby, please can I come?”

Words elude you, so you simply nod, leaning against his chest and resting your hands on his shoulders, bracing yourself as he uses you to finish. He’s twitching inside you, and after only a couple more thrusts, you feel his warmth flood your cunt, as he fucks you through both your orgasms.

You’re breathing heavily, body feeling heavy as you lay on top of him, hands still resting on your ass, holding you against him. You feel his cum, and yours, seep out of you onto him, but he makes no move to get up to clean.

“I’m sorry, too.” You say softly, tracing your finger over his chest. You look up at him, and his gaze is already on you. “I was being kind of a bitch. I just…felt guilty, for almost ruining tonight, but it was easier to be mad at you than admit I messed up.” You feel your cheeks heat, looking away from him and resting your ear against his chest. “So, I’m sorry for being so sour all night. And for getting the day wrong.”

He rolls you both over, easily moving you both so your head was back against the pillows, still snuggly pressed inside you. Still hard, you realize. “Cute apology, but I can’t let you off that easy. You were a bitch tonight.” His eyes shine wickedly, his smirk smug as he pulls slowly out of you. You whine at the lovely drag of his cock along your walls.

He leans down and, kissing you hard, knocks the breath out of you with the way he thrusts back into you. “I'm not done with you, yet." He thrusted into you again again, hitting that spot that had you already craving a third orgasm.

You’re gasping curses, then his name, as he fucks you, slowly but with strength and precision. You couldn't help digging your nails into his back as you feel the first wave of your orgasm. "Fuck, I'm gonna come again." You say breathlessly, and bite into his neck as you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck right as you come. You feel a rush of liquid, making a mess between your thighs and dripping down your ass, ruining the sheets beneath you.

The way you're clenching around him has him seeing stars, and feeling you squirt around him spurs him into his next orgasm, keeping himself buried in you as he cums. You pull him in for a kiss as he fills you, his lips grounding you as you come down, chests heaving against each other.

~~~

After showering and changing the sheets, you’re back in bed, curled up into his side and playing with his hair. You’re both smiling, fucked out and tired, though unwilling to end the night. “We should just sync our calendars.” You say finally. “That way we won’t get anything confused, and we can avoid pissing each other off.”

His hand, which had settled on your hip, landed a couple light smacks on your ass. “I don’t think I mind us pissing each other off. Not with the way you fight.”

You roll your eyes, grinning even as your face heats. “Please, you were the one who couldn’t stop pawing at me when we got home.”

He snorts. “You liked it,”

“Yeah,” you say absently, eyes growing heavy. “I guess if we settle our arguments like that, I don’t mind getting into a fight every now and then.”

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a/n: thanks so much for reading! I hope you like this spicy little valentine's treat <3 if you did, pls lmk with rbs and comments! happy v-day <3

taglist: @asmaechan @animexholic @justanothernpcartist @inumakicanrailme

[bad268]

Take Me Home Pt. 2 (Paul Aron X Equestrian! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Yee by @ionlywantedtoreadfanfiction

Warnings: Mentioned meds, kinda spicy at the end

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1520

Summary: Paul's support is unwavering.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<- Part 1

~~(^Pinterest)

Coming back from your injury and getting as far as you are now is astonishing. So many people doubted your ability of coming back in such a short amount of time really fed your ambition to show up the competition. You did not dedicate your entire life to horseback riding for it to go down because of a broken clavicle and concussion. 

Thankfully, your concussion was healed at this point. Your clavicle was almost entirely healed. There was just a hairline fracture left, so you were cleared as long as you did not overdo it. So far, you have been doing a good job of that. 

You were currently second after the dressing and cross-country events, and you were preparing for the show jumping portion. You and Hollister had placed well in the dressage and cross-country sections, so you needed to pull a strong performance for the show jumping portion.

You were standing in the stable with Hollister in between showings. You had already qualified for the individual jumping event and finished the team jumping final. Your team placed second, so it will all be up to your individual performance. 

There was a gap between the end of the team jumping final and the start of the individual final, so you had a little time to just calm down with Hollister in peace.  You stretched out your shoulder a bit as it started bothering you a little during the team jumping final. You would probably take a pain med before going out again, but right now, that’s not something you need. You could push through this pain. It wasn’t to the extent of needing meds yet.

You sat down for a minute, drinking some water, so you stayed hydrated. You rolled your shoulders a bit as you tried to get back into the headspace when someone started talking to Hollister.

“What’s up, Holli? You doing good?” They said and you immediately stood up when you recognized Paul’s voice. “And you! You’re doing amazing so far! How’s the shoulder?”

“Could be worse,” YOu chuckled as you leaned over the stable door to kiss him. “It’s only a little uncomfortable right now, so I’ll be fine.”

“Good,” He smiled as he left an extra kiss on your forehead. “ Just don’t push yourself too hard. I still need you in one piece later.”

“Oh?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Not like that,” He immediately dismissed, swatting at your hand before turning it onto you, raising his own eyebrow, “unless you want to. You have to earn it though.”

“You say that like we’re not set on winning it all,” You chuckled lightly as you continued the teasing tone, “but okay! I’ll earn it, I guess.”

“Okay, mind out of the gutter now,” Paul turned serious as he held your face in his hands. “Go out there and show the haters why you’re still here. Show them that you and Hollister are the best duo out there. You hear me?”

“I hear you, Paulito,” You smiled as you heard a sound signaling that the warm-up would be starting soon.  “I’ll see you after the showing.”

“I’ll see you on the podium.” One last good luck kiss and he was off. You knew it was now or never. It was time to shine. You mounted Hollister for the last time in the competition, and you took off to the arena.

To say the competition was fierce would be an understatement. Paul was on the edge of his seat the entire time, but he never lost faith in your ability to come out on top. It was down to the wire, but ultimately, he was ready to run down to you when the scores revealed that you won the whole show. You won the gold!

Everything around you was silent. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as you watched your closest competitor’s horse nock down the last obstacle of the set course. You did not want to get your hopes too high, but you could have sworn that you needed at least two points to win. You looked up to the board and saw the four-point deduction, and at that moment, you could see gold as your name topped the leaderboard. You won the gold!

You and Hollister approached your coach, and as soon as they grabbed the reins, you dismounted. You jumped into your coach’s arms for a hug, half-minding the shoulder and reins they were still holding. When they put you back down, you were ushered toward the podium.

You were called to stand in the middle, on the top step. You could not wipe the smile off your face even if you tried. Nothing felt quite like this feeling. You could now understand what it felt for Paul to stand on a podium. Sure, you had won competitions before, but it was never to this extent. Never with this many people watching. You could understand Paul’s feelings whenever he podiumed, let alone won a race. Speaking of Paul, you could have sworn that you could hear him cheering for you.

Truthfully, he was cheering as loud as he could. How could he not? He was so unbelievably proud of you, and he was ready to storm down and hold you. He refrained though. He would wait until you got back to the stables and meet you there.

You took a couple of pictures with your competitors and your medals before you took off back to Hollister. This win was his just as much as it was yours. You, quite literally, could not have gotten this win without him. You offered to take Hollister back to the stables because that’s where he would have to stay until you could get him back home. Your coach went to coordinate those plans as well as the legalities of winning the Olympics. 

You made your way to the stables as everything calmed down. You kept getting stopped by other competitors and other random people around the stables, which you didn’t mind. You were still on cloud 9, so you did not oppose people stopping to congratulate you or pet Hollister. It was all part of the job, you thought. You finally made it to the stable, and you jumped off Hollister immediately upon seeing Paul leaning against the stable door, looking down at his phone. He heard an approaching horse, so his attention lifted as he put his phone in his back pocket and opened his arms for you. You dismounted from Hollister again and led him into the stable before turning and jumping into his arms, burying your face in his neck.

“We did it, baby,” You cried, finally feeling the joy of winning. You pulled back just enough to lean your forehead against his before using one of your hands to wipe the fallen tears off your cheeks. “We did it!”

“You did it,” He congratulated, placing kisses all around your face. “You and Hollister did it, and you were amazing!”

“Thank you, Paulito,” You chuckled as you became shy, leaning your head onto his shoulder and looking up at him. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“How’s your shoulder? Did it hurt too bad?” Paul asked as he leaned his head on top of yours, wrapping his arms tighter around you as he swayed back and forth. “Did it bother you at all?”

“To be honest, I did not even notice it,” You let out a breathy laugh once you thought about it more. “I am tired now though. All that work really takes it out of you.”

“We can head back to the hotel,” Paul offered, “I don’t think your flight home is until tomorrow.”

“Actually,” Your coach interrupted as they showed up in the stables, “Your flight out is in a couple of hours. You’re both good to head out now. I’ll take care of Hollister, and he’ll be back in your stables either tomorrow or the day after. Go have fun!”

You and Paul glanced at each other while your coach took Hollister to get fed and roam around as a cool-down from the competition. You moved around in Paul’s hold, causing him to loosen his hold and allow you to stand in front of him. His hands moved from your thighs to your waist while yours remained around his shoulders and in his hair. You made eye contact with him before leaning to peck his lips one more time as you gently pulled at his hair.

“Take me home?” You asked in a teasing manner, “I think I earned it.”

“You definitely earned it,” He whispered as he moved one of his hands from your waist to hold your chin between his fingers and forced you to look into his eyes, “Just make sure you can hold off until we get home.”

“I have no problem with waiting,” You admitted playfully, moving one of your hands to his chest before looking Paul up and down. That’s when you noticed something, so you looked at him through your eyelashes and teased him with, “Can you?”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.8

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

22nd February

Hanoi, Vietnam

"I might've found us a new job."

Curiously they looked at Jimin who had just entered and waved an envelope in his hands with a mischievious grin.

"Hard pass," Yoongi only countered, going back to grinding his sword, "Forgot I'll be gone for the next month?"

Jimin's smile faded, replaced by a musing expression. "Ah, right.. there was something.. So you really just gonna leave to meditate for a whole month? That wasn't a joke?"

Shaking his head, the older one offered him a small apologetic fold of his lips.

With a deep sigh, Jimin's hopeful glance was directed now at Taehyung, who only blinked back, with a lost expression in his brown eyes wide as he hadn't paid attention. Too occupied by the game he was playing on his phone. "Huh?"

Rolling his eyes, Jimin walked over to him. Holding the envelope right in front of his eyes and blocking his view on the display. It seemed like he had to spell it out for him. "Are-you-in-for-the-job?"

Annoyed, Taehyung shoved his hand away. "Depends," he shrugged then, going back to his mobile game, "What, where and when?"

"This." 

He opened the envelope, sliding a photo out to wiggle in front of him. It showed a dragon made of jade. "Location: Montreal. The 'when' depends on how fast we'll work out a plan. Now that we're only gonna be à deux." Jimin couldn't miss side-eyeing Yoongi who only ignored him, pretending being oblivious to his scowl. He turned to Taehyung again, facing him with an innocent smirk then. "Unless of course we'd find a third person."

"And who would t-" before he could even finish his own question, Taehyung cut himself off when recalling Jimin could only head into one specific derection. Arabella. So he immediately shook his head. "No."

"Aw, c'mon."

"Jimin, no. Absolutely not."

Jimin began whining, scooting to him and falling to his knee, begging. "C'mon, Tae. Why not? She could -" 

"Nope."

Yoongi's sudden burst of laughter startled them and they looked at him confused. He only shot them a gummy grin. "Seriously, Jimin, you expect us to trust her for a job again after Cairo?" Taehyung nodded vigoriously, obviously agreeing with his older friend. And Jimin had to realise reaching a dead-end. Disappointedly, he got up and brushed off dust from his pants. 

"Fine, then I won't ask Bella for help and it's only gonna be the two of us. But I better not hear any complains about difficulties."

Taehyung folded his arms, his videogame laying forgotten on his lap. "Who says she'd even help us anyway?"

"She surely would have if I asked her nicely." And if he promised her shiny diamonds. 

However, seeing the steadfast glare in Taehyung's eyes, he admitted defeat.

Feeling the urgent need for a whiff of fresh ear and also annoyed with his friends, he stepped out into the balcony. The mild evening atmosphere greeting him.

He propped his hands on the railing and stared out when soon sensing Taehyung beside him.

They both remained silent for awhile, just staring over the sea of cement with specks of green in between.

It had rained not too long ago, evident by the puddles on the shiny asphalt and the smell of humidity in the air. It was almost March, but spring was still far away.

"Why.. why are you so into Arabella?"

Jimin dragged out a breath, getting slowly fed up with the same sarcastic comments and rhetoric questions about his, admittedly, weakness for the female spy and thief.

With a small groan, he threw his head back. "I get it, you guys don't like her and I understand why. I really do. But it's seriously getti-"

"No," Taehyung interrupted his rant with a quick shake of his head, "I mean it. How.. how are you so sure.. it's her? I get that she's all 'dangerous and hot' or whatever your reasons were but.. There has to be more, right? You're not constantly making a fool of yourself only 'cause she's hot." At least he hoped so.

Not having expected his friend to be genuinely curious about the relationship between him and Arabella, his lips parted taken aback. "Well.." Jimin slowly began then, glancing at him cautiously as his random, yet genuine sounding question triggered suspicion in him. 

His glance returned to the city then, trying to comprise in sentences the complicated emotions he felt for the mischievous woman. "She's more than just a gorgeous and intriguing woman who keeps me busy, you know." Taehyung noticed the fond smile in Jimin's eyes. Making him almost gag, but he successfully contained it and allowed him to continue. "Me and her.. we got history you don't know of. She's more than her habit of outwitting us."

"Oh, is she?" It was kind of hard to believe. Then again, he tried spending as little time as possible with her and only if absolutely necessary. Simply not trusting her an inch.

Jimin chucked at his disbelief and nodded. "Yeah. I know, hard to believe."

"A little bit."

Again, he understood where his friends' mistrust came from. He paused for dramatic effect as he glanced at Taehyung who was mindlessly resting his chin on the palm of his hand. Only to get impetiend and arch an inquiring brow at him.

"It's true though. Because at the end of the day, she's the only woman I trust and I can be myself with. She takes me for who I am. And when it's only the two of us, I can see the real Bella. The one no one but me knows. And that's why I love her."

"Even after Cairo?"

He grinned. "Maybe I don't trust her with the loot, but with my life. And isn't that more important? That's why I forgive her and let her get away with her stunts. It's nothing but a game between us. Don't forget, I'm also often the one tricking her."

He winked and Taehyung knew what he was referring to. 

It was true. There were times Jimin was the one fooling her, leaving Arabella handling interpol or without the jewels. It was indeed just a game between the two. A game only Jimin and Arabella understood and enjoyed and perhaps that was the secret to it all. Perhaps outsiders like Taehyung and Yoongi weren't supposed to understand it in the first place.

Taehyung only hummed and went silently back to staring out. Unable to contain his inner turmoil as his gaze became dull. Blankly staring into the cold grey.

If put like that, he understood it. He couldn't even nearly fathom how this was possible or applied to a person like Arabella Valentine, but he could at least comprehend a little more how his partner could be so in love with her.

"Say," Jimin said then, leaning at the railing with an intrigued smile, "How comes you're suddenly so invested in my love life? It doesn't happen to have anything to do with you and your doctor friend, does it?" He wiggled his brows and nudged his shoulder, interrupting Taehyung's train of thoughts.

The taller guy swallowed, avoiding his smug, knowing glance. He'd seen right through him, like he always did. Perhaps this time hadn't been so hard to do and yet, it bothered him how in front of Jimin, he'd be an open book just like everyone else.

"Perhaps."

"Ah!" Jimin felt like a lightbulb appearing above him, finally putting one and one together. And he fashed a lopsided smirk to his childhood friend. "So that's why you've been moping around for two months now."

The only response those accusations earned was a click from Taehyung's tongue and a scowl. Causing Jimin to dramatically sigh, averting his eyes from him since he knew very well he wouldn't get Taehyung to talk if he didn't want to. So he pushed himself off the railing instead.

"Perhaps it's hard to look past Bella's imperfections," he began than with a musing glance as he let his gaze wander over the concrete, "But at the end of the day, we all just want someone who knocks our breath away, don't we? Someone who understands and takes us for who we are. Someone we'd fight for. So if you ever find someone like this, consider yourself lucky. These people are rare." With a bright smile, he patted his sulky friend's shoulder and Taehyung coughed out by the sudden hit. 

He went back to observing the glistering streets then.

Jimin had a point, he supposed. People like these were indeed rare. At least he hadn't crossed paths with any or perhaps he'd never bothered paying much attention to any contrary to his friend who'd never say no to a pretty woman.

Until now, it seemed.

Because his guilt-ridden dreams and thoughts revolved around one person and one person only the past two months. And the kind of smile of hers he thought only he ever received and no one else. A withering look full of the sort of subtext someone could only get from a lot of conversations whispered after dark. Like the ones they always shared.

Sirens erupted suddenly and interrupted his wandering thoughts. Several black cars coming into view and parking in front of the building then, blocking the exit, Shortly after a familiar figure exiting one of them.

"Yah, Park Jimin! Long time no see!" Seokjin was waving at them with a triumphant grin when spotting them up there at the balcony of the third floor. His open palm closing then, with a pointing index finger directed at them. "Don't you dare move from there!"

Jimin laughed under his breath. "Of course, who else," he muttered before leaning over the railing then to yell back with more energy, "Never! You know how much I missed your handsome face!"

Taehyung couldn't help but stifle a laugh before glancing over his shoulder to see Yoongi having joined them to check out what all the ruckus was about.

"Pack your sword, Yoongs, pops is here. "

»»»

4th April

Barcelona, Spain

Cassandra was uncertain whether she liked birthdays or not. At this point, they were overrated anyway. She couldn't remember the last one she'd got to properly celebrate. It was probably in high school but her memory fadedthe more she tried to go back to the past.

It was the dawn of her 27th birthday and she didn't know how to feel or what to expect, besides calls and messages from relatives and friends. She was glad her parents couldn't visit her this time as they were currently somewhere in Central America, so she at least could save herself from another round of staged photos in front of a birthday cake for her mother's sake.

Once someone told her that birthdays and weddings were rather for the family than the actual celebrated person and there was some truth to it. You did it more for the people you loved, to make them happy by letting them celebrate you. This year, however, she wouldn't have been able to bring herself from going through this. Not even for her mother who she loved dearly.

"Stella, where are you? I brought the glucometer you requested for the patient," she called out at her colleague and friend. Frowning at the unusual darkness in the staffroom, she flipped on the light switch. Only to be greeted with loud cheers and applause. "What-"

"Happy birthday!"

Utterly perplexed, she took a step back and blinked. She never expected anyone to care enough to organise a small surprise party and even holding a cake with candles which they were now hurriedly lighting up so she could blow them.

Cassandra wasn't particularly close friends with most people there. She got along with everyone though - save for Pavlo the jerk - and was friends with Stella and maybe three other assistant doctors. She also joked with some of the nurses. This was her circle of friends there. A small but good one. So seeing those very same people now beaming at her while holding the cake close to her face and singing the birthday-song, was quite unexpected. And moving.

With an uncertain smile, she clapped along with them. Appreciating the gesture. It meant that perhaps she did belong somewhere after all. Or that her presence mattered in some way. Taking a deep breath then, she finally blew out the melting candles.

"Did you make a wish?" Stella, the one she'd describe as the closest one of her work-buddies, asked then as the rest hurried to cut the cake.

"Sure," she lied. Her artificial smile fading as soon as her colleague's attention turned to the cake.

What point was there to make a wish if she couldn't have the one thing she truly wanted.

Him.

Her night-shift ended a few hours later at 6am. Besides the small birthday gathering thankfully nothing else unexpected happened. Especially not with any of her patients.

Tired, both physically and mentally, she returned home. Trying her hardest to prevent her eyes from going to the space on the wall where the numerous postcards from around the world were hanging on strings. Mockingly staring at her while depicting far-away places she'd never see herself. With the latest addition grazing a new string on the bottom. A postcard from Montreal with a Renaissance-style domed basilica on it - the kind of old-fashioned buildings she liked.

What irritated her the most, however, were the two sentences written in the back.

"some films shot here:

the score, catch me if you can, lucky number slevin, red 2, john wick 2

-T"

That was all. 

Now, that was their usual thing. This inside joke between them. Him teasing her love for heist-films by writing some famous works shot or playing in the place he was sending the postcard from. And usually that would lighten her mood.

But considering the way they had parted ways on New Year's and the fact he'd stopped calling or texting her, she somehow expected more. Maybe even an apology for just disappearing after stealing a kiss from her like that.

Hah, she laughed bitterly, be glad he even sent a postcard again.

The past three months and four days had been a blur. Or at least that was what she tried to remember them as. Her thoughts did not revolve around that particular man, wondering where he was and what he was doing and if he'd ever have the courage to show himself in front of her again or if he'd just avoid her for the rest of their lives.

And they surely did not revolve around that heart-pulling, breath-taking, mind-dazzling, dream-like, passionate kiss they'd shared that night. A kiss so incomparable and mind-altering that she sometimes doubted it had ever really happened or if it had simply originated from a wild fever dream. From a straight up delirium state she had seen patients with 39°C fever or more in.

Then again, the fact she had never experienced something like this before, let her doubt her mind would've had the source material to create a moment like this on its own.

No, surely she wasn't wasting a single thought about that.

Tears blurred her vision for a second, heartache along with her overall exhaustion cumulating along with the crushing expectations of that very day. Her birthday.

Everything rising to the surface for a split second before she got a hold of herself again and swallowed everything but one single tear down.

It'd have been easier getting over such a disappointment if it was some random guy online she'd merely wasted a week talking to. But this wasn't a random guy from the internet. This was Taehyung.

Deciding not to dwell into self-pity, she blanked out all these negative emotions.

After eating the left-over cake she'd brought home, she decided to head for her bed when the doorbell rang. Something blue on the door mat catching her attention then. She squatted down and picked up the object, pushing the blue fancy paper aside. Only to reveal a flower pot of blue hydrangeas.

Her eyes widened. She always wanted blue hydrangeas but missed their season. Did her mother send her this?

She stood up and heaved it higher, turning it around to see if she could spot any clue about the sender when a small white card fell down and landed in front of her feet. 

"Happy birthday, Cas.

I know I was an idiot to you. I'm not the type to talk directly about my feelings. But it occurred to me that I could still talk about them through my actions."

Her heart dared to skip a beat at the handwriting and words. It was the same handwriting as on the countless postcards before. Taehyung's. With furrowed brows she flipped the card, seeing a another text written there.

Her eyes widened, intrigued by its arcane nature.

"Font Mágica de Montjuic - four columns / 5:55pm / ? "

»»»

It was late afternoon when Taehyung set foot in front of the four tall columns above the so-called 'magical' fountain. Having a perfect view over it. He pushed his sunglasses, which soon would become pointless, up the bridge of his nose and stifled a yawn as he leaned against the white marble. 

Their last job had ended over two days ago but after multiple layovers - not able taking the easy route as some angry millionairs were on their tails - he still hadn't adjusted to the time-difference.

He stretched his arm then, revealing the watch under the sleeve of the hoodie. Due to a delay he'd feared not making it, but thankfully he was on time. Five more minutes till the show began.

The threaneningly red evening sun would soon disappear behind the buildings but the temperature remained pleasant. It was nice to finally feel spring on his skin after being in the north for so long. 

His brown irises where fixated on the enormous fountain in front of him, although seemingly unspectacular right now due to the water jets currently kept low. For now.

Cassandra liked this place. The fountain with the view of the cascades and the art museum on the top in the background being one of her favourite places in the city, he remembered that. Of couse he did. He remembered everything she had ever told him. Every little insigificant detail because the sum of it made up her. 

He had to admit, however, he also liked that place a lot. It looked like straight from a fairytale, especially at night with all the lights illuminating it.

Now in the evening, the warm colours of the sunset sparkled on the water surface, adding an even bigger mystical almost eery atmosphere to it. It looked quite different from the last time he'd been there, with her. Fond memories creeping up his mind when remembering that day. The first day he'd waited outside of the hospital for her.

His gaze wandered over the greenery, wondering if Cassandra would even follow his invitation and appear. He couldn't blame her if she didn't, he knew he didn't treat her particularly fairly. This was why he wanted to redeem himself after all.

Taehyung felt guilty for disappearing on her for over three months. Sure, they'd got caught by Seokjin and his men, however, their custody stay only lasted a couple of days like it always did before they escaped. No, this hadn't been the reason, neither was it them having to lay low for some weeks or their time-consuming next coup. Or at least, these hadn't been his sole reasons for not visiting but also not contacting her.

Truth was, he was scared - terrified even - to face her again. Not only because of her reaction, but also because all those months he tried figuring out what he actually wanted and if he should even cave into it considering the life he lived. It hadn't been easy and he still wasn't sure if he made the right decision, but he knew he couldn't keep her waiting anymore - in case she even bothered to still waste a single thought on him and hadn't already completely crossed him out of her life. Again, he couldn't blame her if she had.

However, even if so, Cassandra wasn't just anybody to him and he owed her an explanation at least. Whether she despised him now or not.

There was a significantly lower amount of people at this time of the day. Now with the dim afternoon light lesser people strolling around the square.

From the corners of his eyes he caught someone nearing the colums then. Familiar long curls swaying over a plaid coat coming to a halt in front of the railing. And Taehyung's muscles instantly relaxed, only now realising how strained his whole body had been with nervousness and worry.

Of course he couldn't be sure it was her as the figure was standing further afar, and yet his heart had recognised her and pulsed faster.

With a deep inhale to calm his nerves, he pushed himself off the column and neared her with quick steps. Afraid she might change her mind after all and walk away at any second. 

"Hey."

He sensed Cassandra tense up when pausing beside her, not daring to move her head and meet his gaze. Her usual warm eyes rested instead on the illuminated blueish green water in the distance. She blinked once, twice. And Taehyung began getting nervous all over again as the seconds passed without her saying anything. Only staring blankly ahead. 

"Happy.. happy birthday."

Finally, her expression softened with a sigh. "Thank you."

"Uhm, I assume you got the flowers then."

"Y-yeah, I liked them." Of course she liked them. He'd even remembered that she preffered pots over cut flowers. "Thank you." Her voice was paper-thin, distant and almost sorrowful and it caused his own gaze to fall.

"I'm glad you did."

Cassandra nodded quietly. "Blue's my favourite colour.."

"I know. That's why I chose them." His lips curving into a weak smile. And it annoyed her, how well he knew her despite all the time apart. "Thank you for coming here," he began then with cautious, his voice almost a timid whisper not to scare her away in any way. It didn't take a genius to see that this time was different from the previous ones. Especially since Cassandra was always wearing her heart on her sleeve, no matter how hard she tried to conceal it. "Wasn't sure if you would or not."

"Got the night shift. Have to leave in a bit."

"Ah." 

They grew quiet, gaze falling to the solemn water surface. Taehyung scratched his neck, uncertain how to proceed.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing here," he eventually spoke up then, only seeing her shaking her head. Much to his surprise.

"Not really," she deadpanned and he wanted to laugh at this.

"No?"

With a shrug she averted her eyes from the water jets to finally spare him a brief glance. "It's not the first time you disappear for months only to randomly show up again. I'm kinda used to it. It was just the first time you disappeared without any trace since the beginning." She would've cracked a sarcastic smile if she hadn't felt a rush of anger when recalling the past months.

It was so irrational. This was what she'd waited and hoped for all that time, for him to show up again. Then why did she feel so incredibly mad at him the second she saw his usually charming face? 

"Oh," was all he could muster up to say. He could clearly see that it was burdening her, just like he'd feared. "It's good that I came to put some things straight then," his voice gainining firmness, "I know last time we saw each other I left with.." He paused, carefully choosing his words. "I must've left you with lots of questions."

"You did," she plainly stated and he almost shuddered. 

So that was how it felt when Cassandra was mad. She was cold and distant, nothing like her kind and sweet self. It was probably what he deserved anyway.

He was about to speak up when the alarm on his watch went off and he remembered why he'd called her there in the first place. 

Her lips parted, but he stopped her from saying anything else with a bright smile. "Please wait a few more minues before telling me off, okay? Because the second part of your birthday gift starts now!"

She frowned, puzzled at his sudden excitement. "S-second?"

"Of course!" He sounded offended. "Did you think flowers were all you'd get?" The corners of his lips curled up in that adorably boyish manner that distinguished his grins from anyone else. Grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her to face the fountain again. 

And Cassandra saw what Taehyung meant, her eyes widening in awe.

The water jets began attaining height in different distances of time, first the big ones in the centre followed by the small ones all around, creating a beautiful choreography of lowering, highening and arching water streaks along with different coloured lights. Blue and pink specifically.

She knew of the fountain show once or twice a day, depending on the season. However, 6pm was not its usual time. At least not in early April when it was still too chilly and not a touristic season. 

She couldn't take her gaze from the performance against the darkening sky and pastel-coloured clouds. She was so stunned by it that she didn't pay attention to the music playing. Taking her a moment longer to recognise the melody over the noise of the dancing water. And when she did, her head immediatelly turned to search for his eyes, only to catch them already fondly staring at her. He'd anticipated her mesmerised expression, observing her this whole time without paying attention to the water show. 

"That's -"

He nodded. "You like it?"

She did. Of course she did. It was her absolut favourite movie soundtrack after all.

Her breathing got irregular, her head was spinning and she had to avert her gaze from his affectionte look. Returning to the impressive fountains.

No, she couldn't start misinterpreting things yet again. She'd already done that enough times in the past, she couldn't be fooled yet again. He had disappeared for months, clearly regretting the kiss and feeling guilty now for leading her on. She knew it, she knew it and it broke her heart and set anew tears in her heart. The only reason he made her such a wonderful gift was because he pitied her and felt sorry. And yet it also made all these locked away feelings resurface and it wasn't fair, how he gave her heart arrhythmia and her lungs dyspnoea all over again for all the wrong reasons.

He didn't have feelings for her. At least not any romantic ones. She had to finally accept that and she had. She really had until now, when her delusional hope and irrational expectations took over her senses as she watched water dancing to the 'Love Theme' from'The Godfather'. 

- What an irony, out of all songs.

And she felt the tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. She was touched by the thoughtful gift. Goosebumps spreading over her skin at the melancholic melody playing over the elaborate water show in the middle of the grand fountain. But she also choked up from her unrequited feelings and the false hope his lovely gesture gave her.

The song finished, the water jets lowered and everything fell silent.

There were some people gathered around the fountain now, spectators of the show. Cassandra closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Taehyung -" 

"Wait, it's not over yet. Now my favourite movie soundtrack follows."

Her eyes fluttered open and before she could even ask, another melody began playing and water was being splashed up again. And she saw him smile softly while looking ahead.

She'd missed his voice. She'd missed his gentle yet stern eyes. She'd missed the curve of his nose and his smile. She'd missed the way his parted hair flowing over his forehead and eyes whenever he moved or got windblown.

Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she faced the fountain again. Standing there beside him and preoccupying herself by trying remembering the title of the familiar melody.

Of course, she eventually thought then when recalling the famous song and one of her favourite soundtracks, too. It was 'Strangers in the Night'.

However, Taehyung hadn't only picked it because it was his favouite soundtrack, the main reason was because it reminded him of Cassandra. He had never paid much attention to the lyrics before but for the first time, he could relate to them. And perhaps that's why it was his favouite one after all.

"You know Sinatra disliked that song," he stated then, making her perk up. She hummed, gaze returning to the performance. 

"He was an idiot then."

And Taehyung laughed, it was a genuine laugh. Causing Cassandra to purse her lips to prevent herself from laughing as well.

Instead she saw the colours of the lights intensifying the darker the sky became. And she couldn't help but think of the night she and Taehyung had first met when recalling the lyrics herself. The lump returning.

The song ended soon after. Now even more people having gathered down at the fountain and even up there at the platform. It was fairly crowded by now. And Taehyung realised this was probably not the best place to discuss. So he held his hand out for her, meeting her arched brow.

He exhaled frustrated, retriving it instantly. "Come, let's go somewhere quieter."

She seemingly contemplated it, looking over her shoulder then back at the beautiful fountain. With a deep sigh, she eventually stepped back and nodded. Following him up the stairs of the cascades and reaching the top in front of the palace-like building. With the broad panorama view of the glistening city and the four columns, the magical fountain visible behind them. Up there, there was little to no one at this time and day.

"So, why did you make me climb up all these stairs?" Cassandra whined in between of panting. Propping herself at the stone-railing when seeing Taehyung beside her, casually leaning against it. Both of them standing there with a respectable distance.

"It's quieter here, don't you think?"

"I suppose.."

Neither one knew what to say or where to begin. And Taehyung felt his cheeks blushing when seeing her there in the light of the illuminated water basin behind them. The soft and curious eyes, the dark curls that got longer over the months, swaying in the light breeze against her cuddly cheeks. He just wanted to hug her and hold her in his arms again. 

Cassandra straightened herself then, her sudden movement interrupting his silent gaping.

"Thank you for.. for this. The fountain show, I mean. How did you do it?"

He only gave her an ambigious smile. "Don't worry about that."

She hmphed at this but didn't persist as something else was more imprtant to her. "You asked me to let you explain yourself.. so go on. Explain why you kissed me in a way that knocked my breath away - something medically impossible by the way - only to disappear for months with nothing but a postcard as a sign of life."

He should've been astonished by her sudden straightforwardness, but he figured she was simply too fed up with him at this point. Still, he couldn't keep himself from biting back an unappropiate smirk that threatened to break onto his lips when hearing her description of the kiss. It flattered his ego as he agreed with her. "I didn't want to discuss it on the phone."

"Fair enough, then do it now."

His lips parted but his throat, however, felt dry and itchy. His mind an endless void, absent of all the words he wanted to say to her. All of the sudden, he felt like a deer caught in the headlights. And nothing came out. Lips pressing together again as he awkwardly looked away.

Cassandra's jaw clenched and she abrubtly checked the time on her phone. "If that's all, you've got to excuse me but I gotta head to work now and don't have time for this game."

He knew her night shift started at 10pm and they still had almost four hours to go, but he understood the cue and pushed himself off the railing.

"Didn't expect any less of someone as smart as you."

She only huffed at this. Her eyes wandered up to meet his. Something in the atmosphere shifting in that moment. She swallowed.

"You do realise songs and pretty flowers aren't enough, right?"

He nodded, taking a few steps closer to her. The light from the building's spotlights illuminating her face, bathing her in a warm almost etheral glow. "Of course I know."

She exhaled, looking away as she was unable to remain upset because at the end of the day, this was Taehyung. The only man that ever moved her.  And with a much gentler voice, she almost pleaded, "Just say it then. Say why you kissed me only to dip and disappear before.. before giving me the chance to properly react to it. Just cut the games and tell me."

"Cas.."

"Why can't you admit it?" Her voice raised now and she almost stomped her foot out of frustration. Why couldn't he just admit he was regretting it? "Whatever it is, I deserve a proper explanation. Don't I?"

He breathed. "Of course you do." He could tell she was trying her best to keep herself together but the angry tears brimming in her eyes, threatening to roll down her cheeks, gave her away. Along with her cracking voice.

"Why are you such a coward then? I thought a thief would be much braver."

He softly grabbed her arms, causing her to look him in the eyes. "It's easier to break into a safe or hunt down a treasure than putting into words.. I simply can't express myself properly. But for you I'll try." His steady voice held certainty and a promise she wanted to believe. "You're far more stubborn than anyone I've ever encountered before, you know that?" he smiled then and a faint, tiny grin finally crossed her face. Finally managing to steal a small giggle from her.

Cassandra sniffed then, wiping under her eyes. "That's like the pot calling the kettle black." Her expression clouded then. "What do you want from me, Tae?" she whispered, a low thread of anguish flickering below the surface.

With a sigh, Taehyung took her cold hands in his warm ones and lowered his head, resting his forehead against hers. One of his hands heaved then, slender fingers brushing away a strand from her blushing cheek before tenderly touching her jaw. Cupping it with a pained expression on his features as his brows furrowed.

He didn't know what he was doing. That was not what he'd settled on. He knew he should stay away from her, he had decided on confessing his feelings but explain that it simply couldn't be. However, he didn't have the heart to do it anymore because, frankly, he didn't want to. His heart was betraying his mind in that moment and as much as he had argued with himself and chosen the rightful, the logical path, being there with her, getting lost in her fierce irises and holding her so close to him, made him weak.

And suddenly his lips were on hers, causing every synapse in her brain to short out for a moment before going to overdrive. Her whole body melted only to rebuild and float into the air.

The sensation of his lips gently pressing onto hers taking her back to the cold winter night months ago. And her lips instinctively moved against his.

Dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin.

She remembered them well, the chemical cocktail designed to make humans feel good and crave more. And indeed, it did. It did make her crave more. Just like that New Year's night back then. 

The first time she hadn't realised as it had been rushed and unexpected, but it was a terrifying thing, to let a thief kiss you like that. There was always the danger of him stealing more than just a kiss after all. And she feared that had already happened.

Taehyung held her closer. Trying telling her all the things he wasn't even sure what exactly they were with the press of his mouth on hers. Lips fueled by unknown desire. Not that it mattered, really. There was no way to hide it anymore. It was too overwhelming by now. He had never wanted anyone like this before. He'd had brief, sporadic flicker of interest here and there over the years, but nothing came even close to the way he felt when he was with her. And in that, he was certain.

She understood him, calmed him, laughed with him, saw what was underneath. The realest version of himself was the one he saw in her beautiful round eyes when being with her. He knew he could visit every country in the world, steal every treasure there was, but nothing would ever compare to that single moment when he kissed Cassandra.

Their lips parted. Dark eyes flickering over her smooth features then. He didn't know what angel he owed this chance to, he was simply going to make it count. And eventually he breathed out the only right answer.

"You, Cassandra. I only want you."

»»»

next chapter: 0.9 here

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame

[getyourdirtyhandsoffme]

Hi! I see your request is open, can I possibly get m!reader w/any male lead you want—where the reader had a stressful day at work, he gets scolded (but he's a softie), so after coming home he immediately hugs his husband and is softly crying.

Can I also get a scene where his husband jokingly tells the reader that he'll have a fight with his boss? (to lighten up the mood) ^^

— 🪞

MALE READER (FTM SAFE)

GENRE(S): Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Comedy

SETTING(S): Non-Idol House Husband Changbin and Working Male Reader Husband

WARNING(S): Reader needs a hug after getting scolded, Reader is sensitive, Changbin is here to comfort, Worried Changbin, Crying Reader, Changbin ready to fight his lover's boss, Stress Reader

AUTHOR: I needed this fluff request after writing smut. Therapy.

please reblog, like, or/and comment to support me! Thank you!

Things were already going bad as soon as you stepped into your workspace. 

You work as a designer for this popular fashion company. You always dreamed about either becoming a model or just doing fashion design, but you were insecure then, so you just chose to be a fashion designer. 

Being a fashion designer has always been hard since you have to think of at least a unique design and hope it gets accepted by the boss.

Your designs and creativity have been accepted and worn in commercials, music videos, modeling, etc., until some strict requests were made not by the boss but by the boss's friend. 

No one liked her, but everyone chose to keep their mouths shut unless they wanted to lose their dream job. 

Her sense of taste was interesting. 

She knows what she wants, but every time she requests it, she denies it at the last minute. She puts big hopes into your hearts, then shreds them into pieces. So, that’s exactly what was happening.

No one wanted to work with her, even with how much she would pay, but you decided to step in just because money is money. You’ll do it for the money, and if things turn out horrible, then you can just step down and hope someone else takes your spot.

It was already stressful.

Plus, her husband, who somehow has the same personality and taste of fashion as her, even stresses you. Giving you harsh words and telling you the most single things that are missing that you keep on redoing for the past 4 hours.

She keeps on changing her mind at the last minute while her husband keeps commenting on the details as if she knows anything about fashion with his weak attire. 

You were almost at your breaking point until you made a huge mistake on the dress, all because of the stress, causing a huge argument between you and the woman—well, mostly her. 

You were too stressed to even argue; you felt like crying.

She called you words, saying how you even manage to get the job if you can’t do the most simple things correctly, along with commenting about your appearances and skills, which was overdoing.

Just like that, you walked away from her as she continued on sprouting nonsense along with questioning where you were going since you weren’t finished with her request; however, you were finished with her. 

You got home quite early, around 4, which surprised your husband, Changbin, who was working out in the living room with a black tank top and baggy sweatpants.

“Oh, hey, love, you should’ve told me that you were coming home early; I would’ve bought you some food." Changbin gets cut off by you dashing towards him, giving him a big hug while weeping into his chest. 

Changbin quickly hugs you back, caressing your back while whispering in your ear, questioning what happened. 

You tried to explain everything, trying to calm yourself down. While you were explaining, Changbin set you down on the couch as he walked away to grab you a bottle of water and a tissue.

“Why does she keep doing that? I don’t understand what her motives were to just waste fabric and other stuff that she has in design, along with the fact that she has a double who is her husband. Jeez, I would’ve shouted at those two.” Changbin comforts you.

“You did the right thing by walking away from them, but what will she say when she complains about you to your boss? Wouldn’t you get fired? I know you love designing so much; this is your dream. 

Changbin was worried since you always wanted to create clothes for others, including your friends, family, and even your husband, Changbin. He is your number-one model and fan. 

You shrugged. “Well, then I guess I have to deal with another scolding by not only her, maybe her husband, but even my boss as well. I’ll just find another company.” 

You were calmed a bit and, of course, worried about losing your job, but honestly, you feel confident that you can easily find another job because of how well-known your skills are on the internet.

“If it does happen, I’ll come in and fight them!” Changbin smiles at you, flexing his muscles. “They wouldn’t handle me; look at me!” 

You laughed, nodding. 

“They will for sure regret firing me when they see you. Thank you, my love.” You kiss Changbin as he smiles wider, blushing. “Of course, anything for my husband.”

[powderblueblood]

bethy on beale street

eddie tells lacy the story of how al munson and elizabeth franklin met in memphis, tennessee. or, love is a grilled cheese sandwich. (2k) cw: sickening fluff, me making shit up about beale street, al munson is a junior sleaze but is no match for elizabeth franklin and her sunshine smile. taggin @dieaverage & @fracturedarkness x

part of the hellfire & ice universe

"oh, this is pathetic."

you push your lower lip out a little further, gesturing to the blackened thing of jiffy pop with the pitiful enthusiasm of a door-to-door salesman that needs to make one last sale or else she's giving her exhaust pipe a blow job. "eddie."

"was that your dinner?" he asks, gesturing to the failed science experiment in your hand with the cigarette in his.

a couple of incinerated kernels fall out the bottom. you nod, eyes shiny. he rolls his head around on his neck, groaning with a fervor. he's such a fucking sucker.

"fine! get in here-- you're so goddamn lucky wayne's doing overtime--"

"oh, otherwise i'd starve!" you say, brightening up immediately as you hop through the door of the munson trailer.

"otherwise you'd starve."

"emaciated!"

"a dessicated corpse come monday."

and come a few moments later, you're biting into the most heavenly grilled cheese you've ever had. like, really. the cheese is plastic and gooey and dripping and a string of it clings to your chin. eddie, the chef de cuisine, points for you to clear that up. you'd really underestimated what this boy could do with a pan-- you didn't even think he owned a pan.

watching him whip up this little number with the cigarette still dangling from his mouth was... mystifying. if entirely unhygienic. but if that's what you're putting up with for how this thing tastes...

"s's very good," you say with your mouth full.

"don't they teach you not to talk with your mouth full at miss porter's finishing school for prisses?"

you pinch your brow and give him the finger.

"better be careful," eddie says, tone sauteing in warning as he reaches forward and nudges that offending finger back into your little fist, "this is exactly how my parents got together."

your eyes flare as you wipe some grease off your lower lip. eddie rarely talks about his parents, just like you rarely talk about yours-- for a bouquet of reasons. bonding over your shared daddy issues is difficult when they're criminal accomplices-turned-enemies or whatever.

or maybe it's easier. you two just hadn't tried it yet.

"really?"

"tale as old as time," eddie sighs, sitting backwards on one of the two kitchen chairs and picking up the salt and pepper shakers.

"he was a line cook." shake shake. "she was a waitress." shake shake. "he could not leave the state of tennessee. they used no discernible form of birth control and figured that was a good enough reason to say 'i do'."

"how did they end up here?"

"well, soon as i was let loose upon the world, dad decided he was a little homesick--" eddie's eyelids sag sardonically, "--read, he had to go somewhere and cool off. hawkins is as good a place as any for that, unless you're al munson and trouble draws you in like a fucking electromagnetic force."

there's a beat.

"what part of tennessee?"

he doesn't expect you to ask that. knocks him out of his facetious narration. makes him twist his ring a little, like he's debating whether to tell you or not.

"um. memphis."

you smile, all knowingly. "beale street."

he smiles back, warming back up.

because of course you wouldn't say graceland first.

because you're pretentious and you're psychic, or something, because you're the goddamn oracle of delphi and you'd know to say beale street because...

franklin's diner was on beale street. still could be, eddie doesn't know, because they left memphis when he was still a baby. what he did remember, from what he could remember of his mom and what al rarely trickled into conversation, was that franklin's diner was an institution.

franklin's was beloved. it was the kind of place that slung hash and sausage to people twenty-four hours a day. those people ranged from civilians to cops to politicians to musicians to poets to drunks to degenerates. the hierarchy broke down at franklin's-- everyone was the same. everyone took their hat off at the door and said their pleases and thank yous and ate together. and laughed together. and told stories together.

whoever you were outside of that didn't matter.

so it stood to reason that a man on probation could get a job there.

al munson avoided a stay in the federal correctional institution in good ol' shelby county by the skin of his dazzling midwestern teeth. friends (because friends come by easy for al-- look in any dark, shady corner and there's a friend) had told him to make for franklin's, because not only is there work, but there's work.

and women.

seemed as if back of house was staffed by nothing but a pirate crew of ex-(and soon-to-be)-cons (which ain't a bad transition out of the big house, if you think about it), but front of house?

some of the most dee-vine fading beauties that memphis had to offer. one-time contenders for miss tennessee, each and every one of them, were it not for... the missing teeth, the bum eye, the drinking, the swearing, the smoking, the cussing out the customers.

al, as you can imagine, flourished in this environment. plucky little upstart sleazeball who handled women like don juan by way of some shitstain in indiana no one'd ever heard of? they loved him. cherished him.

and al, a lover of women of any shape, size or moral decrepitude, cherished them right back. in every imaginable way.

("gross." "i know, but stick with me.")

that turned south one sweltering august day when poppy franklin (which is what they called the big man who owned the place) came huffing in after a five-foot-nothing spitfire with a fried blonde dye job.

"y'know what, poppy, fine!" she yelled, her accent ringing through the diner like high, fine crystal tainted by smoke. "you want me as part of the family business, then i am more than happy to oblige-- but i got conditions! if i'm workin' my shift, we are listenin' to my music!"

she grabbed each side of the jukebox like the wheels of a high powered rally car, tongue peeking out the side of her sugar pink lips, eye squinting.

"c'mon, girl," poppy gasped, clutching at the counter. "goddamn ernie ford ain't music?"

"no!" she barked, and she swung around with this megawatt smile that filled her whole face-- filled the whole diner.

"this is music!"

and that first lick of hoodoo man blues rips through the jukebox speakers and the place goes up.

("hoodoo man blues? i don't think i know that." a beat. "what? but you know everything." a lingering kind of look. "i don't know everything! only most of everything." "i'll play it for you." "i'd like that. anyway. as you were.")

so, this little chickie dipped around the back to grab an apron and ran smack bang into al, who'd been ignoring his darla-of-the-week to watch this whole flurry play out via the service window.

she knocked the wind out of him. like, clean deflation.

"he- hey." first time al munson has ever stuttered, ever, on record.

"indiana, right?" she kept on smiling, like it'd hurt to stop, and dug this prefixed name tag out of the apron. "yeah, they said you was pretty."

all al could muster was this huff, like 'heh!' because she was looking at him with these eyes, just picking him apart and putting him back together with this look on her face that felt like the first blast of sunshine out of the joint.

which he knew about, right. so that mattered.

"bethy?" he pointed to the nametag.

"holy crow, and he's literate! you're a real diamond in the rough, there, indiana!"

and she threw her head back and cackled like a hyena and al munson knew he was done for. lights out. game over. see y'all next time! y'all come back soon now!

elizabeth 'bethy' franklin had landed back in memphis after an ill-guided attempt to rebel in nashville. she made it about a month until she became incredibly homesick, because bethy franklin was raised around love and family and music and nashville had the music part and some of the love part, and as much as she wanted to do something completely independent of her family, she missed her people. wasn't her time. so she came back, with a shitty blonde dye job that made a mess of her natural red curls.

and she was as effervescent as she was when she was a kid; always had a smile for everybody, and a dirty joke for everybody she liked. and she insisted on pumping that chicago blues out of the jukebox during every shift, dancing her way around that diner. the customers didn't even give a shit when she messed up their orders-- she was that magnetic.

al spent the next three weeks trying everything he could to take her out.

"bethy, you like ribs?" "you know i do, al, and you know i know every rib joint in town." "bethy, you wanna go for a drive?" "last i saw, i was the only one of us with a car!" "bethy, i just got this record by these dudes, uh, the aces--" "you better not be tryin' to impress me with things i already know, indiana!"

she made him work harder than he'd ever worked in his life-- much to the chagrin of every other waitress in the joint, who he'd tossed by the wayside in pursuit of the heiress to the finest, dirtiest diner on beale street.

the only day that franklin's closed was new year's day. poppy had even made it a longstanding rule that they could finish up early on new year's eve, around eight o'clock, to get at least some of the night's dancin' in.

as if they weren't already sick of each other's company, the diner staff stuck together like a pack of rats, descending on downtown memphis and causing a ruckus in the bars. one favored spot of the franklin family, this little tin roof bar that dealt mostly in country music, even called on bethy by name from the stage.

"well, let's see now-- looks like the prodigal daughter has returned safe and sound from the armpit of our national nudie suit, nashville, tennessee! you goin' git up and give us a tune, miss bethy franklin?"

and again, that voice rung clear but raspy, clean through the room and al’s aching heart, "well, i would, john, but your guitar player's just been kicked out the bar!"

"i can play." and al munson stepped up to the plate, to the stage, and he held that gibson like it was excalibur and he'd just yanked the sword out of that goddamned stone.

"you can play?"

"anything you want."

bethy covered the microphone and stared al down with a challenge. "long-legged guitar pickin' man."

which sounded like an insult, but he ripped them first couple chords off like it was nothing.

("and the crowd went up?" "and the crowd went up.")

she could sing, that girl. al too, but she had a voice like a nightingale. and she had him singing that same stupid song as midnight approached, sucking down cigarettes outside the bar. then, twenty minutes to go-time, bethy materialized in front of al and said--

"i could eat."

which is a terrific thing to say to a line cook, especially one that has since decided he would sacrifice the world and its riches just for a minute alone with you.

"bethy franklin, i'm gonna make you a grilled cheese so good, you're gonna ask my father for my hand in marriage."

so they high-tailed in back to their diner, down the street, breaking in with bethy's spare set of keys. al fired up the grill with white bread and all-american cheese on hand and bethy fired up the jukebox and danced herself around the kitchen to where do you go to, my lovely.

("oh, wow." "yeah, thought that might tickle your sensibilities.")

in about ten minutes flat, al was watching bethy insistently pick her sandwich up from his spatula, even though he was insisting she'd burn those pretty hands.

"these hands are fireproof, indiana. they can survive anythin'."

"they gonna survive how good that grilled cheese is, bethy?"

and bethy didn't hold back. she let her eyes roll right back in her head, humming out her mm-mm-mm! credit where credit's due. ate the whole thing in three bites.

"it's elizabeth, by the way."

al looked confused, but something on her face told him to remember this. the eyes that were usually sparkling with light had dimmed a touch; a more intimate setting of her gaze, if you will.

"that nickname. been drivin' me crazy my whole life. kinda... whassa word, diminutive, y'know? i like my name-- it's big and solid and important, don't you think?"

al shook his head and took elizabeth in. the whole big shining beacon of her, the one he'd let himself be burned right up in. singed, to a crisp. moth, meet flame. you get the idea.

and he said, "only one way we could make that name sound better."

"how'zat?" she asked.

and he said, "if we made it elizabeth munson."

and elizabeth smiled again, because she was always goddamn smiling, and said, "what's your daddy's number?"

back in the room.

you exhale big, and eddie's watching your reaction for... he doesn't really know what. he digs around for a cigarette and offers you one.

"this what you're like in hellfire club?" you ask, leaning back in your chair and crossing your legs. "because that was a hell of a story."

"good point. not enough grilled cheese motifs in my campaigns, lacy, i really oughta write that down somewhere..."

"no, i mean it. you're good."

the compliment sort of hangs between you. eddie's not quite sure how to handle it-- he doesn't have asbestos fingers like his mom did.

you look at him for what feels like an excruciatingly long time.

"i think you're like her," is what you finally say, and it feels like when you do that thing where you play with the tension of a situation like a cat with a mouse.

eddie's chest immediately tightens. eyelids stutter. he tries his damnedest to brush it off, but he's leaning in, the way he always does with you. he can't not give. he can't resist, not when it's you.

"i think it's the smile." you say, biting at the tip of your little finger. "provided what you told me is not complete unverified bullshit."

"hold on." and he's up and out of his chair, searching around for his jeans that he'd discarded earlier (yeah, he's walking around in his own damn boxers, it's his damn trailer, grow up (you're being very grown up about it)).

he slides a photo that he keeps in his wallet toward you, leaning over you.

it's a young woman, can't be more than 21, with a little baby that has a shock of dark curly hair. her dark roots are growing out a little. she's beaming toward the camera like her life depends on it.

eddie watches you as you study it, all considered and pouty like you get when you study anything. you hold the photo up right next to his face.

"now smile."

he smiles.

"bigger."

he stretches the corners of his mouth way out.

"just as i thought. identical."

pink colors his cheeks, just a little.

"a couple of all-american cheesers."

[vanishxcanvas]

Rain

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Oneshot / Imagine

Content Warning: 18+ only. Smut and fluff are included. Mentions of fingering, outside unprotected p/v sex.

Background - You're on a walk when nature decides to start raining. By the time you get home, you're soaking wet. Noah decides to take advantage.

You had decided earlier today to go on walk, as right now you're on your way home. Suddenly, it starts to rain, and you groan.

You pout silently as you start walking back home. As you get home, you take off your shoes when you get inside, leaving them at the front door.

Then you attempt to go upstairs while Noah is in the living room, doing something. He sees you, so he stops what he's doing and follows you.

You've already taken off your now wet clothes, and left them in the restroom to dry. As you're looking for something else to wear you hear Noah.

"Damn, if I knew it was going to rain today I would've joined you on that walk." He says before walking behind you.

He puts his arms around you before reaching up and squeezing your boobs.

"I swear to god-" You say before a whine leaves your lips.

"My name isn't god, babe." He says before kissing your neck.

You turn around, and kiss him. You then slide your cold hands under his shirt, earning a gasp from him. He immediately grabs them before they go up high enough.

"Bed, now." He says. You smirk, and crawl on the bed.

He takes off his clothes, then he gets on the bed. He hovers over you, and starts leaving marks all over your body.

"After tonight, everyone will know who you belong to." He says before biting your thighs. A moan leaves your lips, as you feel yourself being soaked already.

As he reaches your entrance, he slides a finger into you. You groan, and he makes a comment about how soaked you were already.

He slides another finger in, making you moan really fucking loud. But suddenly, he stops. He gets an idea, you whining at the loss of his fingers leaving you.

"I have an idea." He says.

"What is it?" You ask.

"What if we fucked in the rain?" He says.

"Noah, are you crazy? We will get sick!" You say.

"Oh come on, don't act like you haven't thought about it." He teases you.

There's a long silence before you speak, as you had to think about it.

"Alright, fine. But if either of us gets sick, the other has to take care of the person that is sick." You say.

He smirks, and picks you up. He then carries you in the backyard.

He sets you on the back porch, and both of you immediately start to get rained on. He tells you to get on all fours, and you do that.

One of his hands land on your ass, and spanks you, hard. You let out a moan, and his other hand is on your mouth.

"Shhh, unless you want our neighbors to hear, we need to keep it down." He says.

He places his hands on your hips, then enters you. You bite down on your lip to contain your noises.

"Fuck, you feel amazing." He groans quietly.

He starts to move, and you're trying your best to contain your sounds.

As he's slamming into you, you let out a moan accidentally, every once in a while.

"Our neighbors definitely heard that one." He grunts.

"Mhmm" You breathe out.

He praises you for doing a good job, and that makes you clench around him.

"Fuck, I knew you'd like that comment." He says. He keeps pounding into you a bit more, and you know you're going to cum soon.

"You need to cum, baby? Cum for me." He growls in your ear.

That's enough to set you off, and you cum on his dick.

The neighbors definitely heard your sounds. Noah pulls out, his cum landing on your back, and your ass. Some on the ground.

Both of you are definitely soaked from the rain, as you and Noah's hair are soaking wet.

After both of your highs, he picks you up, not caring about the mess, to carry you inside. He brings you in one of the nearest restrooms.

He sets you down, then starts the shower. He drags you inside with him, rinsing what's left of his cum off of you.

After you both finish cleaning up, you get out of the shower. You dry off, and wrap a towel around you. Noah does the same, and grabs your hand.

You follow him into your shared bedroom, and you both put on some clean clothes. You toss the towels in your laundry hamper, then Noah kisses your neck from behind.

"Noah, we are not having sex again." You say.

"I know that silly, just wanna kiss you." He says. You turn around after he says that.

"Well come here." You say.

He comes closer to you, placing a hand on your jaw. You lean in, and he kisses you.

After a minute, you both pull away.

"You wanna watch stuff on TV for a bit? I can order us some food to eat since I don't feel like cooking, and I'm sure you don't wanna do that either." He suggests.

"Yeah that's fine. Are we watching stuff in here or downstairs?" You ask.

"Preferably downstairs so I don't have to walk all the way down there for plates, then having to walk back up." He says.

"Alright that's fine." You say smiling. He smiles back, and then you both walk downstairs, into the living room.

For the rest of the night you watch TV, cuddling after you both eat. The next morning you both received complaints from your neighbors, as there was a notice on your door.

You were the one to get sick, so Noah had to take care of you until you got better. Was it worth it? Yes, Noah told you.

[god-complex-12]

Doc

——

Pairing: 141 x [Medic] reader

Pronouns: he/him

Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2

Disclaimer: Price has a little more description on y/n’s character, so you might wanna read that one, just a little fyi. Reader is almost a total ripoff of Doc from R6S.

A/n: This is a new post, not a repost.

Master list

Word count: 296

——

John P.

- He feels reassured when he hears Laswell was assigning a medic that would be in battle with them.

- He looked over the man’s file carfulled, seeing he had a PhD and a master’s in the medical field. All he could wonder is how this guy managed to juggle school and this military job.

- Once he had met y/n, he immediately analyzed his personality. He admired y/n’s extremely calm personality.

- He was very eager to put the medic into the field.

- He liked watching Doc from afar. Watching him care for those who are wounded and beating the shit out of those who inflicted those wounds.

- He was okay with that until he was the one who was hurt and getting pampered by the man.

Price hissed as he fell back onto the hallway wall. “Doc! Bedroom 1!” He barked, as soon as y/n showed any sign of helping the captain.

Y/n put his back against the wall next to the door, as he put his gun away and pulled out his knife. Soon the enemy stepped out, y/n grabbed the man, turning him around and pinning him against the wall, slitting his throat. Price watched, holding his gunshot wound.

Doc crouched down in front of his captain. Y/n unhooked Price’s gear vest and lifted up his shirt. Price then slapped y/n’s hand away.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Y/n stared at the captain for a second, blinking. “With all due respect, saving your damn life.”

[Gaz] Kyle G.

- I feel like Gaz is the type to get hurt a lot, but almost never seriously hurt.

- So he’s always the last one y/n will tend to unless he’s in dire need for assistance.

- He’s always giggling while y/n scolds him, and when he asks ‘why’ it’s always returned with ‘your hands are so soft that they tickle’.

- at some point y/n just stopped asking.

- In battle he liked to be close to the doctor, it puts him at ease. Not that y/n will be alright, but that he’ll be alright.

- Put full trust in the man. All of his trust.

Y/n tapped his pen against his desk as he looked over the unfinished paperwork on his desk. He allowed himself to relax a little even though he was still working. It was better than being shot at. Y/n heard a small knock at his door and he instinctively said, ‘come in’, but he regretted it when he saw Gaz holding his hand smiling in guilt.

“What up, Doc?” He said, hoping y/n wouldn’t be too mad.

“What’s wrong, Gaz?” Y/n put down his pen, folding his arms, putting his full attention on the man in front of him.

“I fell down when we were finishing up the mission and I sprained my wrist..” He mumbled.

“Oh, bloody hell.” Y/n cursed, getting up from his chair. “I’m not walking all the way to my doctor's office, so sit.” He said, patting the seat.

Gaz quickly made his way to the seat, sitting quietly. Y/n then crouched in front of him, resting one of his hands on the man’s thigh for support. He then grabbed Gaz’s wrist, looking over his. Kyle let out soft laughs, while y/n inspected him.

[Ghost] Simon R.

- Bro’s invincible. Y/n almost never saw him hurt

- Actually, he’s the one carrying y/n to safety on most occasions.

- Once Ghost is more comfortable expressing anything to the man, he’ll swing by his office to check up on him.

- Sometimes crack a joke, but that’s only if he’s in a good mood.

- He goes silent if y/n flirts with him. Y/n thinks Ghost just really doesn’t like it, but Ghost is actually just speechless.

“Tell Captain I said you were fine, just don’t move a lot.” Y/n said, patting Soap on the back. Soap nodded as jumped off the Doctor’s bed.

Y/n sighed and crossed his arms. “What did I just say?”

“Sorry..” Soap looked over to the doorway. “Oh, hey, Ghost.”

Y/n followed his gaze and smiled when he saw that oh so familiar skull mask. Ghost gave Soap a small nod in acknowledgement as he passed him.

Ghost made his way further into the room, holding eye contact with the medic. “What’s up, Ghost? Are you hurt or just here to loom over my shoulder like you’re waiting for my last breath?” Y/n asked, folding his hands in front of him.

“Are you comparing me to the grim reaper?” Ghost questioned.

“No, I’m comparing you to my father, what do you need?”

[Soap] Johnny M.

- He also gets hurt a lot, but his are always more serious.

- So he’d be laughing, flirting with y/n while y/n is trying to keep the idiot alive.

- When Soap enters y/n office, room, doctors office, y/n immediately asks if he’s okay,

Soap stumbled, falling into y/n’s arms after the mission. “Oh, fuck…” He cursed in pain.

“Are you alright, Soap?” Y/n asked with slight concern. Y/n then sat the both of them down. His gaze drifted down to the knife lodged into his abdomen.

“I got it.” He grunted, wrapping his fists around the knife.

Y/n then placed his hand on Soap's wrist. “No! No, no. Don’t pull that knife out until we are somewhere I know I can keep your ass alive.”

“I can barely walk.” Soap groaned.

“I’ll carry you, what do you want? Piggy back? Bridal? Baby?” Y/n asked, standing up.

“Baby. I’d have to jump on the others.”

Y/n nodded, and picked up the man. Soap then wrapped his arms and legs around them.

[Rudy] Rodolfo P.

- he doesn’t get hurt a lot, but he doesn’t have the healthiest diet, and that’s what y/n is worried about.

- After a while y/n started to keep track of his diet and suggest stuff he should eat.

- Rudy also loves to come see y/n when he’s working and not on a mission for them.

- Y/n can speak broken Spanish, so Rudy loves to use words he knows y/n don’t know to mess with him.

- especially when he’s explaining what’s wrong with him.

- he’ll pretend to be panicking, yelling random words in Spanish as if his loved one’s is dying and he’s talking to the dispatcher.

Rudy aggressively shoved his face with cotton candy he had picked up in town a few minutes ago.

“God, every time I see you you’re shoving your face hole full of toxic waste.” Y/n scolded.

Rodolfo silently put the sweet down, staring at the medic with a guilt ridden face. “If you keep eating that you’ll die of health issues instead of being shot heroically in the field.” Y/n continued.

“I just really like cotton candy..”

“You also really love m&m’s and hamburgers and grease filled chicken, and skittles, and-”

“Alright, I get it..”

“Apparently not because you’re still eating it.”

Rudy then placed the sweet down. “Damn, you’re worse than Price..”

“I mean come on, are you a Brit or are you an american?”

“I’m mexican.”

“Yes, but which one are you closer to?”

“... British.”

“Then act like it. Where I come from, you’ll get a heart attack from a heat burn.”

“That doesn't make sense.”

“I never said I understood why.”

Alejandro V.

- In my opinion, if anyone were to die of being reckless, it’s this man.

- It’s not because he’s stupid, it’s because he has anger issues.

- This man would get pissed off to the point he can’t think straight all because he stubbed his toe.

- Same ordeal with Rudy, but when he does it it’s an accident, and sometimes y/n doesn’t have the heart to tell him he doesn’t understand.

- Considering y/n doesn’t get mad often, if he does, Alejandro is scared shitless.

Alejandro cursed under his breath as he stumbled into the medic’s arms. He cursed again as he hysterically hopped on one leg. Y/n quickly picked the man up, sitting him down on a bench nearby.

“Malditos cuchillos estúpidos. ¡El hijo de puta cortó un jodido agujero en la parte posterior de mi muslo! ¡Lo voy a matar, carajo!” Alejandro then tried to stand up, but y/n put his hands on his chest, pushing him back down.

“Slow down, cowboy. Lay on your stomach, will ya?” Y/n asked nicely, trying to keep his composure.

“Don’t you tell me what to do, you-”

“Lay on your stomach, damn it.” Y/n demanded in a fit of anger.

Alejandro flinched at the tone, slowly switching his positions letting out a few curses in Spanish.

——

[vodika-vibes]

Pen-Pals

Summary: When you're assigned a pen-pal for one of your classes, you expect to make a friend, at best. You definitely don't expect Tup to become something more to you.

Pairing: Sailor! Tup x Reader

Word Count: 4569

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: I am, like, 85% done with my Prince!Boba fic and decided to write this instead. Whoops.

Tagging: @the-bad-batch-baroness

Divider by saradika

“Alright everyone,” Your gaze drifts from your notebook up to the front of the classroom, where your teacher is trying to gather the attention of her class, “As you all know,” The teacher continues as soon as she has everyone’s attention, “I have been working to set up this pen-pal program with men on the front lines, as well as men on the naval ships-”

The room dissolves into groans and you roll your eyes, “Miss,” One of your classmates calls from the back of the room, “You’re a Rune teacher! Not a language teacher!”

The teacher slams her hand on the table, and the room falls silent immediately, “I already have pairings made up for all of you,” She says through ground teeth, “And you are going to write at least one letter.” She falls silent as she glares around the room, and then she’s all smiles again, “Now when I call your name, come up and get your assignment-”

After class ends, you leave campus quickly. The worst thing to do would be to remain and listen to the rest of your classmates bitch about this, admittedly weird, assignment. Why a Master Level magic teacher, who’s students were all adults, is creating a pen-pal program is beyond you…but grades are grades.

Plus, she gave you a stack of these really neat envelopes that will teleport the letter to the recipient the same day it’s sealed, and you really want to take a look at the runes that allow that to happen.

You push open the door to the store your grandparents own, and walk through the shop, into the back, and up the stairs. “I’m home!” You call as you open the door that leads to the house proper.

Your grandfather doesn’t look up from where he’s burning something into a piece of wood, “Welcome back,” He says, “How was class?”

“The teacher finally managed to make her pen-pal dreams come true,” You reply as you place your bag on a chair and walk over to the table, “What are you working on?”

“You tell me,” Your grandfather replies as he pushes the schematics over to you.

You turn the paper so you’re able to read it properly, your fingers lightly tracing over the written runes, “It looks like…hm…a warmer of some kind?” You asked.

“Very well done,” Your grandfather praises as he glances at you, “It’s a commission that came into the shop, they want a clothing warmer.”

“And you’re making it out of wood?” You ask doubtfully.

“Just the frame, kiddo. It’s going to be cast in steel when I finish this bit.” Your grandfather rolls his eyes, “You know your grandmother, she’s already got the forge fired up.”

“At least she loves her job,” You counter as you turn the schematics back towards your grandfather.

“True enough, she does love metalworking.” He beams at you, “So, who’s your pen-pal?”

“Dunno, I haven’t opened the envelope yet.” You reply as you grab a cookie out of the jar, and take a bite, “Unless you need me in the shop, I’ll probably head to my room and get started on that.”

“Such a diligent student,” Your grandfather teases, “We’re all set in the shop, for now. Killian actually showed up for his shift today.”

“You know you should fire him, right?” You say as you break off a piece of your cookie and toss it into your mouth.

“Ahh. I can’t do that. He’s Bernie’s son!”

“I didn’t know that leeches could look human,” You mutter under your breath.

Your grandfather points at you, “Behave.”

You hold up your hands, “Okay, okay.” You finish your cookie, “Since you don’t need me, I’ll just go to my room.” You grab your back and head out of the room, though you turn and start walking backwards so you can still see your grandfather, “I’m just saying, if I didn’t show up for work three times a week, I’d get fired.”

He shoots you a disappointed look, and you muffle a laugh as you turn and head down the hallway to your room. Though you do take a moment to open the door to the basement, where grandma’s forge is located. You don’t hear her hammering anything yet, “I’m home, grandma!”

“Hi, baby! Don’t come down here, there’s dust and smoke everywhere!” She calls the warning up the stairs.

“I can see it, Grandma. Have fun!” You hear the sound of delighted giggling, and you’re pretty sure you hear her crowing something about copper, but you decide that you do not want to get involved.

You very carefully shut the door to the forge, and watch as the fire suppressants flare to life down the hall and across the floor, and you shake your head and walk down to the end of the hall.

The house you share with your grandparents is a decently sized place, all things considered, even if it is oddly shaped. The fact that the only way to get to the basement is from the second floor, rather than the first floor, is odd. Though you don’t put it past your grandparents to have designed the house that way intentionally.

Your room is the smallest room in the house. 

It’s small enough that your grandfather had to make you a loft bed with a desk and a bookshelf built underneath, but you really don’t mind. The smaller room is easier to clean, and it means you never have to invite people over.

Useful, since you don’t actually have any friends.

You hang your bag on the hook on the bedroom door, and pull out your class books, the stack of envelopes your teacher gave you, and the simple envelope with your name on the front.

You sort everything, and then you sit at your desk and you slowly open the envelope. 

The first thing that slides out is a picture. A young man with dark skin, curly black hair pulled into a bun, and brown eyes is showcased in the picture. He has a tattoo of a teardrop under one of his eyes.

You set the picture to the side and pull out the slip of paper inside the envelope. It’s not even a full sheet of paper, it’s just a ribbon of paper with a few words written on it. His name is Tup Fett, he’s a few years older than you, and he’s stationed on the Resolute, a naval ship.

Well, you suppose. It’s something at least.

You open your desk and dig around for a moment, before you pull out a picture album and flip to the very end. You grab one of the most recent pictures of yourself (a professional picture you got made for your grandmother’s birthday a couple of months ago) and you slide it in the envelope that your teacher supplied you with.

And then you grab a blank piece of paper, from the stack of specialty stationary that your aunt gave you several years ago and you’ve never had any use to use, and then you just…stare.

What does one write to a pen-pal anyway?

You tap your pen against the paper for a moment, and then, when nothing comes to you, to start doodling flowers across the top and around the edges of the paper.

And then, once the paper had over two dozen intricately drawn roses, you started to write. 

Starting with an introduction and then an apology for all of the roses you drew on his letter. And once you started writing, you found that you couldn’t stop.

One page very quickly becomes three, and that’s when you decide to stop. You sign the letter, and then add a postscript saying that he doesn’t have to reply if he doesn’t want to.

And then you pull the picture back out of the envelope, and fold it in the letter, and, before you can start second guessing yourself, you shove the whole thing into the envelope, address the front, and seal it with a touch of magic.

Nothing happens for a moment, and then the envelope flashes twice, and vanishes.

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

When the men on the Resolute were told about the pen-pal program, Tup wasn’t convinced that it was a good idea. He’s still not convinced that it’s a good idea, but so many of his brothers are-

As a Private, Tup doesn’t expect to get a letter. Or to be lucky enough to get a pen-pal at all. After all, the Commanders and Captains and higher ranked brothers are sure to be chosen.

Which is totally fair. He does not begrudge his older brothers their ranks, he knows how hard they’ve worked to get to where they are, especially since some of the natborns they work with seem to think that there’s some favoritism going on.

Which is categorically ridiculous. Jango doesn’t play favorites. It’s why Cody works on a warship too. It’s why everyone except Fox works on a warship, and the only reason Fox doesn’t is because he’s in charge of the Mandalorian Guard. And the Police Force. And the Royal Guard.

Anyway, Tup is convinced that he’s not going to get a pen-pal, so he doesn’t even bother with considering it.

Which is why, when he steps into the room he shares with his batchmates, and he sees a letter on his bunk…he’s not really sure how to react.

He carefully picks it up and sees that it’s addressed to him, and so he just stares at it for almost 30 seconds. And then he lays down on his bunk and he slowly opens it.

Tup pulls out three sheets of paper, and his lips curl up into a smile, and that smile grows when the picture falls out of the letters. He picks it up and looks at it, at you, for a long moment. And then he turns the picture over and reads the information on the back.

Your name, the date it was taken, and a note in neat cursive, “I got professional pictures for Grandma for her birthday, but she only kept one, and gave the rest away. I did manage to save this one, though. So…here’s me.”

Tup flips the picture back over, and grins at the image of you. Cute. So very cute.

He sets the picture down on his chest, he’ll have to remember to beg Rex for some tape later so he can hang the picture on his bunk, and he opens the letter. Tup is more than a bit surprised when he sees all of the roses drawn on the first page.

And when the very first sentence is both an introduction and an apology for all of the flower doodles, he can’t help but release a quiet laugh, joy blossoming in his chest. 

Tup reads his letter three times before his older brother bursts into the room. “Tup!” Hardcase says, “Why did you skip dinner?”

“I was busy,” Tup replies as he sits up, and then he grins and holds up the letter, “I have a pen-pal.”

Hardcase blinks at Tup, twice, and then he lunges at him, “I want to read it!”

Tup swears loudly and twists, his feet catching Hardcase’s chest plate and pushing him back, “It’s not yours, dikut!” Hardcase lands with a loud crash, and the door to the room opens again.

“Tup? Hardcase?” Rex looks between the pair of them, “What are you doing?”

“Tup got a pen-pal and he won’t share.” Hardcase says from the floor, “Tell him he has to share.”

“That’s not at all how that works, Hardcase, and you know it.” Rex replies flatly, and then he glances at Tup and flashes a small smile, “I’m happy for you, vod. I have the envelopes in my office, you can get one in the morning.”

“Thanks, Rex.” Tup replies with a relieved sigh.

Rex just grins at him, and then he bends over and picks up a small square of paper, and his grin grows, as he looks at it. “She’s cute, Tup.” He offers the picture back to Tup, “I’ll go get some tape so you can hang the picture.”

Tup takes the picture and mutters something in response, before he hides the picture in his pocket.

“You’re not going to be able to hide it for long, vod.” Rex warns, “But I’ll make sure that no one tries to read your letters.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Tup replies easily. “They can get their own pen-pals if they want to read letters.”

Rex laughs, and claps Tup on the shoulder, “I’ll be sure to mention that. Come on. Let’s get you your envelope and some tape.”

“I thought you said I had to wait until the morning?” Tup asks.

“You’re not going to sleep, Tup.” Rex counters with a roll of his eyes, “You’re far too wired. Letting you write the letter now will at least keep you occupied until you do fall asleep.”

“...thank Rex.”

“This is the only time I’ll allow it, Tup.” Rex warns as he points at Tup.

“Yes sir.”

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

When you wake the following morning, and carefully maneuver yourself down the ladder and onto the floor, you notice that there’s a letter sitting innocently on your desk.

You stare at the letter, pleasantly surprised.

You honestly didn’t expect a response at all, let alone one within 12 hours of the initial letter.

You yawn and sit down. You can hear your grandparents moving around down the hall, and you know that you really should save this to read later…but you have a few minutes, right?

You carefully open the envelope and settle back in your seat, and start to read.

Thank you for writing to me, sarad! I can honestly admit that I wasn’t expecting a pen-pal at all, especially not one who is so talented. I really liked the roses, so please don’t apologize for doodling!

It was also really interesting to hear about your class. I wasn’t aware that there were magic schools…but I suppose it does make sense. There’s not nearly enough wizards in the world for everyone to have an apprenticeship. I admit that I’m not sure what runes are used for, but you seem very passionate about them. Is that because of your grandparents? You mentioned them, and their shop, a lot.

I can’t tell you where I am right now, it’s not allowed, but I can tell you that we’re still several months away from returning to Mandalore. I miss solid ground…and my own room. More my own room than solid ground, if I’m going to be completely honest.

Sharing a room with 5 other men? Not fun. The fact that they’re my brothers somehow only makes it twice as bad and ten times more annoying.

Oh! The picture you sent me is currently hanging on the wall in my Berth. Not in my bunk, just…on the wall…next to the mirror. I’m so sorry, my brothers are idiots and they insisted. Hardcase made some paper flowers and taped them to the wall around your picture. I’m still not sure why.

It’s okay though, because Cap gave me permission to beat him around the training room in the morning.

I suppose I won’t be too hard on Hardcase. The splash of color is nice. If you wanted to send more pictures of anything, it would be nice. But please don’t feel like you have to.

Anyway, I have to wrap this up now. It’s late and I do have work I need to do in the morning.

Thank you again, Sarad, for writing to me. I hope you will again.

Yours, 

Tup

P.S. Hardcase says hi.

P.P.S. Dogma also says hi.

P.P.P.S Hardcase says that if you want to send some candy, that would be nice. He wants fruit flavored hard candy, I’m partial to peppermint, personally.

P.P.P.P.S. This is the last one, I swear. Hardcase swears that fruit candy is better, he’s wrong. I’m pretty sure he was dropped on his head as an infant.

By the time you reach the end of the letter, you’re giggling. Tup sounds so fun, and Sarad is a very nice nickname.

More pictures is definitely do-able, you have an entire box filled with random pictures you’ve taken over the last few years, though you’re not sure how to get candy to them.

Maybe if you put the candy in a box and then tape the letter to the top? You’ll ask grandpa, he’ll know.

“Angel!” You hear your grandfather call from the hallway, “Breakfast!”

“Coming!” You shout back. You carefully lay the letter in an empty box, planning on collecting as many letters as Tup decides to send you, and then you hurry out of your room. “Hey, grandpa! I have a rune question-”

The letter you eventually send back to Tup at the end of the day is attached to a box full of candy, cookies, and various pictures of places and people. You also added some stationary for Tup, and you’re pretty sure your grandparents added a few more pictures of you.

You eye your grandmother suspiciously for a moment, “Are you planning on adopting Tup, Grandma?”

“Hm? Oh, no dear. I’m in the process of planning your wedding to him.”

“...Grandma!”

“What?”

********

Tup blinks at the box sitting on his bunk.

He’s fairly certain that the pen-pal thing isn’t supposed to be a daily thing, but he’s not complaining. At all.

He grabs the box and sits on the floor as he carefully opens it. And then his jaw drops.

There’s a bunch of different types of candies, a container full of cookies, a sweater, and a box that, when he opens it, reveals an entire stack of pictures. Tup absently flips through the pictures, most are of various places around Mandalore. Though some are pictures of his Sarad through the years.

Tup pops a peppermint into his mouth, and carefully peels the envelope off the front of the box, and opens it.

Hey Tup!

I have to admit, having a letter to read as soon as I woke up this morning was a surprise. Though it was a pleasant surprise! I didn’t think that you would want to write back to a babbling college student. I’m glad that I was wrong!

It would be nice to be an apprentice to a proper wizard, but, well, only the wealthy or the lucky actually have that chance. And I’ve never been either, so I made due with what the college can offer me. Not that I’m much of a magic user, honestly. You’ll never catch me running around throwing fireballs or summoning lightning. I’ll stick with my safe, clean, runes.

You said you don’t know much about runes, but to keep this from becoming a lecture-Runes can be used for a lot of things, but mostly they’re useful. Like…I have runes sown into my boots so that they don’t get dirty, even if I jump in a mud puddle. And I have a locket my grandparents made me that acts as a rudimentary tracking charm. (I really need to get them to remove that, I’m not five anymore after all.)

And I do lean more to runes because of my grandparents. They raised me since I was four. My parents and older siblings decided to take a world tour…and just never came back. It doesn’t bother me as much as it bothers my grandparents, though. They feel like I should miss them, and I really don’t. How do you miss something you never had?

Anway.

What’s it like living on a ship? I imagine it’s cramped and you don’t have much space. At least you’re with family, I suppose. Though if I had to be in close quarters with any member of my family for a long period of time, I would commit murder, so it’s best that I’m not.

I don’t mind that my picture is hung up, your picture is hung up over my desk after all. But I did send some more pictures so maybe you can reclaim the picture of me and replace it with something a bit less…embarrassing? Though I think grandma snuck some more pictures of me in your care box.

I hope you like the sweater I got you. I wasn’t sure as to your size, so I got a size up from what I thought you might wear. And I know the Resolute’s color is blue, so I just grabbed that color, so you can wear it on shift, maybe? If you don’t like the color you can send it back, and I’ll get you a different one. Promise.

Anyway, my lunch break is almost over, so I had better go. I have to go scream at one of my grandfather’s employees…he showed up five hours late for his shift. Who does that??

XOXO

Sarad

P.S say hi to Hardcase and Dogma for me

P.P.S There is enough candy in the box for you and Hardcase, but please don’t feel like you have to share with him.

P.P.P.S Also, you’re both wrong. Chocolate is the superior candy, and I will fight you on this.

Tup grins at the letter and immediately pulls the sweater on. It’s a bit too big on him, but it’s warm and he loves it. He opens the box of pictures and starts going through them. All of the pictures with his Sarad in them get put to the side to get hung up in his bunk, while he leaves the others on the desk so the Berth can get properly decorated.

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

It’s been almost a year since you first started writing to Tup, and you still hear from him almost daily. Of course, you’re just as guilty as he is of writing daily letters.

And sending gifts. So many gifts.

Though, in your defense, most of the things you’ve gifted him have been sketches and doodles. Though you did send him a new hair clip that your grandma made for his birthday.

He also got a cake, courtesy of your grandfather.

You spin your pen between your fingers as you stare at the almost finished letter.

Well, the letter is finished, technically you could send it as is, and it would be fine. After all, Tup would be docking soon…as in today, and you can finally see him face to face, but-

But.

You nervously gnaw on your lower lip and, before you can second guess yourself, you add a hastily scribbled postscript, and then you shove the letter into the envelope, and seal it.

The letter glows, and vanishes, and you stare at the spot for a moment. 

Well. It’s out of your hands now. Now all you can do is wait.

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

Tup stares at the letter in his hands wide eyed. He wasn’t expecting another letter, not since he’s so close to returning home, to being able to see you in person.

But you sent a letter anyway, and while the majority of the letter is normal stuff, it’s the postscript that has him thrown for a loop.

I’m looking forward to meeting you in person. I’ll be there when the Resolute docks, Grandpa already said I can have the day off. So don’t worry about replying to this letter!

XOXO

Sarad

P.S. I love you

He reads the postscript over and over and over. There aren’t any more envelopes. He can’t reply to you, even though he wants nothing more than to send a reply, even if the reply is only four words.

He fights the urge to hunt Rex down and demand one more envelope, though he knows his older brother is absolutely not going to give him another envelope, even if there was another envelope. Which. There is not.

“You alright, vod?” Dogma asks, as he looks from Tup’s anxiously bouncing leg to the way he’s impatiently tapping a rhythm out on the paper in his hand.

“What? Yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. Great.”

“Right. You wanna try repeating that in a way that’s more believable?” Dogma asks dryly.

“...Sarad loves me.”

Dogma stares at him, silent, “Vod. You’ve been in love with her for six months. Why are you freaking out about this?”

“Because I want to tell her.”

“Great, you can tell her in person. In two hours.” Dogma replies.

“But-”

“No buts. Just relax, vod.”

The last two hours pass by in the blink of an eye, and Tup shifts nervously. This is the first time he's been able to meet you face to face, and he's nervous.

Only a little.

Because you're great! And you're so kind, and whenever he talks to you, or thinks about you, his stomach flips, and he feels like a cadet again.

But he's still nervous. He's not Rex or Jesse or Fives, all of whom ooze charm as easy as breathing. So there's always the chance that you'll see one of his brothers and choose one of them.

Regardless of what you had said in the letter.

And then the ship is docking, and he's disembarking and he sees you, and you're just as ethereal as your pictures showed-

And you see him, and your smile is blinding, and then you're in front of him, and your arms are around his neck, and he's stumbling backwards, and Rex has to catch him -

Tup can't help but laugh as he curls his arms around your waist, "Hi Sarad." He breathes out, and all of his nerves vanish as though they never existed to begin with.

“Hi,” You reply, your arms settling comfortably around his neck, “Did you get my letter?”

“I did,” Tup replies.

“And?” You ask, some anxiety passing through your gaze.

Tup grins at you and catches your lips with his own, one of his hands leaving your hip to cradle the back of your head as he deepens the kiss. He can hear his brothers wolf-whistling him, and he breaks the kiss, though he remains close enough to kiss you again, when he wants to, “Is that an answer?” He asks, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

And your face is red, and your eyes are bright, “I’d like to hear the words anyway.” You whisper, uncaring of the audience…and you do have an audience.

His grin is boyish, and both of his hands move to cradle your face between his hands, “I,” He kisses your forehead, “Love,” he peppers light kisses across your cheeks, and nose, “You.” His lips catch yours in an even deeper kiss. “How’s that?”

You giggle and tilt your head slightly, “I think it’s perfect. A perfect confession for a perfect Tup.” At this point, the audience has moved away, with other couples reuniting across the docks.

He kisses you again and again, before he finally pulls away and presses his forehead against yours, “Remind me to write a letter to your old teacher for introducing us.”

“She’ll be unbearable, Tup.” You whisper up to him.

“We can allow it, for a little bit.” Tup whispers back.

“Grandma and Grandpa are dying to meet you, can you leave?”

“My shore leave officially started the moment I stepped off the ship. I would love to meet your family.” He ghosts his lips against yours, one more time, “Lead the way, Sarad.”

[moorishflower]

If you have anything more to share, I'd love to hear more about Veterinarian! Hob treating lord of cats Dream! :)

I can't START this now not for real for real because there's other stuff I want to finish first BUT...

"Are you going to do the morning huddle?"

Hob doesn't lift his head from his desk. He ought to. He knows. It's smart to go over the surgeries every morning -- not least because Cori gets testy if they don't -- and there are doubtless a few pets checking in for admits today, he's fairly certain that one of them needs a glucose curve, and the last time the owner hadn't brought the dog's bloody insulin...

"I'm coming," Hob says, and proceeds not to move at all, his head pounding miserably. Lucienne lingers in the door to his office as the lights of The New Vet are turned on, one by one. He can see the cars pulling into the lot through his window, and feels, to his horror, a weak pulse of anger, followed near immediately by shame. Not allowed, he scolds himself. You aren't allowed to get burnout. Everyone else is tired, too, and look at how hard they're working. They've all got problems, you just need to hike up your pants and deal.

"Guenevere broke up with me," he says, and Lucienne exhales sharply. "Yesterday."

"At the..."

"Yeah, at the bloody Ren Faire."

"Oh, Hob," she says, and Hob raises a hand to forestall the tide of comforting words that are no doubt coming.

"It's fine," he says, even though it really, really isn't. The fucking Ren Faire. When he'd told her how much he hated the things, how inaccurate they are, how if she wanted a real experience she ought to come with him to an SCA meeting, and really, the people of the Shire of Thamesreach are good, do their own weaving and dying and metallurgy, and then Guen had...

Had dumped him. Right there in front of the jousting ring. And Hob's old enough and wise enough to recognize when he's had a hand in his own destruction, but still.

It's been sixteen years since Eleanor passed. Thirteen since Robyn followed her. And he'd been hoping...he'd been hoping that some part of him might be healed enough for some kind of love. Some kind of closeness. But apparently not. The pit in him, where his heart used to be, is still blackened and smoldering as ever. You're just a lot, Guen had told him, her hands fluttering like startled birds. You've got a lot on your mind, all the time, and you've got a lot going on at work, and you've got a lot to worry about, and it just doesn't end, does it? You being a lot? Well, it's too much for me to deal with, Robbie. I can't fix you, and you won't fix yourself, and I'm done being second in someone's life.

And then she'd walked away, and Hob had gone to the Ye Olde Meadehall tent and proceeded to drink nearly his body weight in surprisingly good-quality mead, so much that he'd needed to call a cab home. His car is still parked at the lot. He needs to go and get it today, unless he wants to add a ticket onto the stack of things gone wrong in his life.

Out in the lobby, Thessaly calls out, "Door's open!" And nearly as soon as she speaks, the reception phone begins to trill. Monday at The New Vet. Everyone clamoring to get in on account of the crises that happened over the weekend. Hob gingerly heaves himself off his desk, rubbing the ribbed marks of pens that have pressed into his cheek.

"It's fine," he says again, and Lucienne smiles hesitantly at him. He tries to smile back, and thinks he manages to fall somewhere around 'wan, but willing.' "Really. We weren't...compatible. Anyways. You're assigned to me today, I think?" Lucienne nods, and Hob picks himself up, and cracks his back, and tries to shake away that brief little flash of anger. That horrifically tempting darkness, like a worm nestled tight and cozy in the brain.

It'd be easy to let it eat him alive, he thinks, as he follows his tech into the back of the clinic. It'd be easy to think of this as a job instead of a calling. He's known vets like that, who get into things like ortho surgery for the money and little else. He's not one of them. He won't be one of them. He can't move on from his dead wife and child, and he can't perform surgery without his hands shaking and his heart crawling out of his throat, and he can't stomach the sight of HBCs anymore, but he's. Managing. He's healing. It's taking longer than he'd like, but that's just the way life is. And life is glorious. He's got staff who appreciate him and support him, he's got his own clinic that's bearing its own weight and not sinking him into debt with each passing year, he'd found a competent surgeon to take his place in the OR, and life is grand.

And you're alone, that awful worm in him whispers. Because something in you broke when Eleanor died, and then it broke again when you failed Robyn, and now it can't ever be fixed. You're not worth the time and effort of fixing.

Hob shakes his head. He's alone. So what. He has the clinic. He has his techs. There's always going to be work to do. No shortage of pets in London, and everyone needing their shots, their checkups, their emergency visits.

Life is rich and varied and ever-changing, and if sometimes the only thing keeping him going is thinking about what will happen to The New Vet if he's gone, well. That's not depression, that's just the truth.

"Who's first?" he asks, and lets the chaotic rhythm of the clinic settle into him, and wipe all other thoughts of broken hearts and dead loves from his mind.

[townofcadence]

Snowed In

@talesofnovembria continued from here!

She'd initially raised a brow when Artair sought her out to help with some supernatural rumors. More than anything, it was more that he was coming to her rather than someone closer. More pressing was her stepping away from the Estate to deal with something like this. Sure, Cassandra and her husband didn't really seem to mind...

But Alexander was always the main issue. She could rant and rave about how she didn't care what he said about her actions... but that would be a lie. Assuming this outing wouldn't take too long, there really shouldn't be anything for him to complain about.

Salena and Artair might not have seemed like much... but they were a powerful force when they were working in tandem with one another.

Both of them had agreed to meet up at his gas station, moving through the ley-line rather than risking her gates. Smart really, making it mean she only needed one to get to Cadence. In turn, this also gave her time to gather supplies. The "mission" was pretty tame. Go to investigate the mountains and the anomalies that were taking place there. Vague was the word he'd used, and she agreed.

The set of saronite armor would be overkill for something like this... but even some casual clothes might not be the right call either. Supernatural meant dangerous more often than not. Having protection would work in her favor. As a compromise, she dawned her leather armor. Another perk was having some small bags attached to help carry her other supplies.

Supplies which included a strange looking whistle and a vial of sand. Those were the two most important things aside from her blades. No reason not to bring those too. If she didn't need them, then fine. If not used, having them with her would help channel any runic magic she might use.

Before long, both parties arrived at the station, her ignoring any strange looks that might have been directed at her. Logic and strategy came as second nature.

They stepped through the ley-line...

And were immediate hit by white.

Snow was one thing. Both of them could handle that... but this was a full on blizzard. A chill rushed up her body the moment her feet sank into the snow, frigid winds biting against the uncovered parts of her body. This was bad. Very bad.

She was used to dealing with harsh winter weather... when she was undead. It was entirely another matter now that she was alive again. Mad worse by her weakened health. The leather was at least doing its job from not immediately getting soaked. If they didn't do something soon though, they were both going to freeze.

Salena's head snapped to the side when Artair called out to her, shivers already starting to wrack her body. A portal? Right. A gate. Her hand came up, feeling the way the runic magic moved through her. Gates were easy...

Unless you felt your power immediately cut off before it can finish.

A chopped snarl erupted from her throat. Ok, calm down. Assess the situation. Was it just the gates? Her eyes fell back on Artair, moving her feet through the snow to bring up some ice to at least block one direction of the roaring snow in the air. Same result. It was cut off before it could finish. Her snarl increased as she called back to him, "No good. It's like someone, or something has silenced me."

Her hood and mask was good at keeping the snow out of her face, so it would be best for her take temporary lead. She pushed over to Artair, keeping her voice a little loud so he could still hear her, "Our best option right now is to find some shelter, if not to wait out the storm, then to make a plan and see what we can figure out before freezing."

"Are there any known caves or landmarks here that you might know of?"

It is a fleeting relief, seeing the snow dusting Sal’s coat, but not melting on the touch. Wolves used to be something he watched documentaries on while he worked on things in the shop—their coats, called a pelage, has two layers. One is meant to keep the snow and wind and rain out, while the other-- the undercoat—insulates and traps air, to keep them warm in winter. He can feel a fraction of a shiver he’s sure is hers, but at least she wouldn’t freeze fast; seeing the snow on her fur refusing to melt might mean she has that same pelage as a worgen. And thank the fucking stars too. Fur like that could keep the snow and wind at bay, maintaining her vitals and warmth well below zero. Its why wolves could survive so well up north in the frozen tundras. And with her living in a place like Sweden, her winter coat would likely be sticking around from the colder climate. She had a lot wrong with her body, but she for sure has fur, and that can’t--- it can’t work the wrong way like some of her can. So maybe this wouldn’t be so rough on her, even if it was unpleasant.

He pushes away a circling thought. His heart squeezes in his chest with a surge of – something, he’s not sure what, and it’s not worth the time as another howling blast of algid air whips against the two of them. He hisses, watching Sal begin her moment for a gate. There’s a tingling, a sense of magic, a sense of her own, before—nothing. Numb. Fire along his neck and down his spine and tears in his eyes that don’t make sense. The air feels thinner than before, like he’s spinning, but he doesn’t even sway. Is it his? Ugh--- he can’t tell. But there’s an emptiness, a sense of nothing like a hole in his chest, and he doesn’t need to see the lack of gate to know it didn’t show like it was meant to.

Something had to be blocking the spell.

He nods at her reaching the same conclusion at likely the same moment, barely hearing her over the wailing storm. It doesn’t seem worth trying a spell of his own. Not in these conditions where he can barely see a foot in front of him and everything aches and burns, and not when he’s a novice at best: if Sal can’t do anything, he’s sure they’d get the same result.

He reaches into his pocket for his phone, fishing it out with red fingers and curling over it to see the screen. Snow already patters against it, leaving drops. He pulls the hood over his head to conserve what heat he can, rolling his shoulder as his eyes flick over the screen. The biggest issue was not knowing where they were in relation to anything else, but he could see a trail with at least a dozen shelters along it, likely for surprise storms, and the safety of hikers. There’s some kind of town at the bottom of the mountain, but they’d never make it that far--- but if they could reach the trail, they might be able to find shelter.

“I don’t know where we are.” He shouts, brushing the ice from his face. His cheeks hurt. “But I see a trail. No caves on the map but I’m sure there has to be some around. We could move and look for some kind of shelter for a few minutes, but if we can’t spot anything in this storm, I think we should build a snow-burrow.” The words sound familiar in his ears, like Byron is right behind him sharing one of his survival kernels of wisdom. “I’ll see if I can’t get us a good direction.”

Artair slips his phone into his bag and produces a compass instead, a tiny thing the size of a quarter in his hand. The mountain was north of the town at the base of it, so if they could head south---

The needle wobbles, then wiggles more sporadic, before spinning wild on its axis. A shake does nothing to cure his compass of the erratic movement-- the needle didn’t seem keen to stop, and picks up speed. His frown deepens, before he shoves it back in his bag. His voice drops a little, dipping with a cough, before he forces it loud enough to be legible again. “I--I guess we pick a random one to move in. Unless you can hear or smell something that could h-help.”

[kleinstar]

EMPATHEOREM

*available to threads outside ones with me too - just dm me for icons

Powers

Uhh small wounds/scratches get healed up automatically. Normally would be in few seconds but now it's a little slower than that.

Fashionable raincloak outfit that evades water completely unless it's a storm.

Rainbow gem hanging from his neck should not go too far - canon has not confirmed that anything will happen only said that something might happen sadly we dont know so cant really use that just dont rp losing it

Not really a power but you seem to have a lot of random skills from tons of parttime jobs he has done!

Mannerisms

Eiden's generally pretty easygoing guy, I wouldn't call him unflappable but generally takes things as they are and so on. He's considerate and flexible towards others, excellent with kids. He's curious. Appreciates pretty/handsome/guys a lot, might occasionally do some light flirting even. Generally doesn't expect the worst out of people but like can still clock shady vibes to an extent but might help out anyway... Can be silly but he's pretty smart actually! He's pretty sociable and honestly a little bit nosy. Prone to reckless things when people he cares about are in danger but also probably strangers too. Maintains good confidence and if it falters will try to psyche himself up with inner dialogue or even outer. Excitable! Many things are cool! Also a little mischievous. ALSO, he's got surprising amount of charisma! A little prone to being lonely. Bit of a people please, it comes naturally though, prone to peacekeeping even when he's pissed off, tries to look things from many directions so his opinions on things can change up --- but also his temper flares seeing mistreatment of others and so on. Might feel a little awkward about being cared for. Unlikely to admit any weakness which also in turn means he's pretty competitive (not a terrible loser but stubborn for sure).

Memories:

This doesn't necessarily need a memory with it but in the orphanage they made him skip meals if you played with food or had leftovers.Can't not finish a plate and will eat himself sick if the only other option is to toss food away.

general memories of orphanage

teenager rebellious phase, tons of part time jobs again and a lot more temper

memories of some more parttime jobs, countless dates and things of that sort and then finally endless hours at office

memories of klein - warmth, hot guys, suddenly will to life gained but also pretty wild stuff like getting infiltrated into cult to save a friend (got caught immediately), into a criminal organization (got caught before even doing that), infiltrating into youkai party (eventually got caught),into uhhhh infiltrating drug operated red light district (got caught), festivals of different sorts, monsters, traveling by foot, being detective, prison, getting stuck in dreams or in a book made for combat training, organizing idol group, getting stabbed....

spiralememories also free game

Icons:

So apologies i dont have nsfw icons sorted into separate folder bc i use some as normal icons (even evit them out lol), i dont...think theres anything too wild in there tho Also like honestly having to renumber them would suck!! fflflld some icons are also just badly cropped and i just havent bothered with redoing them but im sure you'll live - dm/@ in twitter me for them though!

Feel free to dm me if you want to thread!! ill do an ad soon or immediately idk yet

[f10werfae]

Boutique for the Best☁️

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fashion Designer! Reader

Word count: 1,897

Summary: Chris and Y/n, the perfect example of the term 'made for each other’

Warnings: none, all fluff

———-

Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

————

(Y/n's P.O.V)

I’d argue that being a fashion designer is one of the most complex ways to create art, the ability to transform a whole generation's style with a piece of fabric.

I always knew I’d go to New York to study Fashion Design as soon as I was able to comprehend the idea of future careers.

Straight out of University I was given a job under one of my college mentors, a designer for celebrities, the opportunity of a lifetime.

Moving between celebrities was definitely an experience, meeting new people and making a name for myself to a point where I got my first permanent client.

Chris Evans.

I still remember the day my mentor told me she was going to finally let me go off on my own, someone had contacted her, asking especially for me.

That was him.

(Present day)

“Chris can you stop moving about, i’m trying to measure your chest” I whined trying to hold the measuring tape around him, despite him flexing his muscles every two seconds.

“I can’t help it bub, i’ve gotta show it off to you, afterall it is all yours” He turned slightly, winking at me.

“Just shush and let me finish” I said turning his head back to the front and taking down his measurements for his new suit I was going to create.

Having worked for Chris for about two years now, and dating him for a year, I still never get tired of working with him.

When I first walked into his fitting room, the atmosphere instantly turned hot with the energy. I still remember the way he beckoned me over with one finger and I was immediately in a trance.

It all got too much one night when he asked to measure me this time and wanted to have a go at creating a piece. Long story short it ended up with all our pieces on the floor and both of us in his Boston home. Well our home now.

“What do I get if i stay still then?” He asked coking his head to his side as I bent down to measure his pant length.

“A nice suit, now shush” I said swatting his ass playfully before finally taking down my last measurement.

“You’re mean, all i’ve been wanting today was one kiss bub”

“Yeah well this suit for the award show isn’t going to fix itself, you have three nominations so you need to look even more perfect hun” I said kissing his cheek, then rushing over to my work desk to start bringing over pieces of fabric.

“But what about you? You’re nominated for best costume design, what are you going to wear?”

“Oh baby you don’t need to worry about that” I said cockily smirking at him, his face growing darker at his realisation

“Okay I see how it is, is that right?”

“Mhm, now tell me blue or red?”

“Blue”

“Good choice bubba, now how abou-“

“you’re so warm Y/n” He said abruptly, wrapping his built arms around my waist pulling me right up against him. His head in the crook of my neck as I felt him inhale deeply.

“Are you smelling me?”

“I can’t help it honey, you jus’ smell so good alla time” Fingers dancing over my body, Chris' lips planting themselves on my neck only distracting me more

(Award show - 2 weeks later)

“Okay baby here is your blazer, shirt, trousers and tie alright?”

“Hey bub, isn’t your job as my stylist to help me get changed?”

“No not really”

“WELL, how about as my loving girlfriend who I want to spend time with”

“Fine you big baby come 'ere”

Letting him put on his trousers, I helped him to put on his shirt, that same warm atmosphere filling the air as I tucked his shirt into his trousers all while continuing eye contact. His deep blue eyes boring into mine with intensity.

Next was his tie, throwing it around his neck I pulled it harshly, pulling his face down to mine for a deep kiss with his hands gripping onto my waist.

“well look who’s getting frisky tonight” He said pulling away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Not replying I grabbed his new belt from our bed, putting it through the loops of his pants and buckling them, his hands now rubbing my arms.

“There you go baby, now you’re double the handsome”

“Yeah all thanks to my own personal stylist eh?”

“Okay now shoo while I get changed” I laughed shyly, pushing him out of the bedroom wanting to keep my newest design a surprise.

“What you’re sayin’ I cant watch?” He said confused, his arms leaning on the door frame making him look even more muscular and intimidating.

“No it’s a surprise hun, i’ll be quick i promise”

With one more kiss I got him out and put on the new two piece I designed specifically for myself which I paired with the gold jewellery Chris had gotten me for our six month.

Quickly applying on full glam makeup, which was rare due to my laziness but tonight was important to me, both because of Chris and myself. Putting on my white heels I grabbed my purse and walked out of the room, already hearing Chris downstairs with Dodger.

“Chris i’m ready” I called out down the flight of stairs, hearing the click of his shoes head towards the bottom of the staircase.

“Lemme see you darlin’”

Walking down the steps, I didn’t dare look at his face till I was at the bottom, but I didn’t even making it to then before I felt him lift me up,

“CHRIS PUT ME DOWN”

“Now bub are you sure we have to go to this award thingy, cus I know a few things i’d rather do instead” He smirked, putting me down at the bottom step, his hands going down to settle on my satin covered ass.

“No but seriously, you are absolutely gorgeous and there’s no one else i’d rather be seen with tonight, or ever again for that matter” He whispered dipping his head down for his lips to meet mine in a sensual soft kiss.

(At the Award Show)

“Baby don’t worry you’ll get all three nominations, I know you will. You’re the best” I whispered as we walked off the red carpet and into the huge venue filled with rows of seats.

Chris' nerves had started to play up again, resulting in him clinging on and using any opportunity to touch me.

“I know I know, I can’t help it”

“I know baby, but i’m here okay? You’re not alone, just think about that when we get home it’s just you n' me and whatever you wanna do”

“God if only that was all day everyday” He laughed throwing his head back, our fingers staying intertwined ever since we arrived.

With that the show started, the presenters taking their place on stage and starting to read out the nominations.

“The best male actor 2022 goes to….

CHRIS EVANS!” They shouted, a smile gracing it’s way onto my face as I jumped up clapping, Chris pulling me in for a kiss then walking up the stage to give his speech and accept his award.

“I told you you’d get it, I know my man” I whispered to him as soon as he sat back beside me, his arm settling itself on its spot around my shoulders pulling us even closer together, a light kiss being put on my temple.

“The award for Best Animated Feature goes to….

LIGHTYEAR!” Once again a smirk made its way onto my face, pride filling me as I watched my man collect his rightful award and come back to me.

“The award for Best Story goes to….

THE GRAY MAN!” Getting up for a third time I watched Chris and his cast mates get up on the stage, Chris' eyes meeting mine as he blew me a kiss and winked at me. A hot flush making itself comfy on my cheeks, making me look down and shake my head at his public display of affection, something I would never get tired of.

Now with him back beside me, there was only one category left, best costume design. I know I was up against well known names within the industry, people I know who have been in the business for years, people I studied in University.

Hell I couldn’t even believe I was put into a category with such professionals, me, Y/n L/n.

Chris must have sensed my uneasiness, squeezing me tighter against him, both of us watching while the presenters took out the card.

“The award for Best Costume Design goes to…

Y/N L/N”

I was shocked, sitting in my seat my face felt like it had dropped to the floor, Chris beside me had jumped up shouting.

“THATS MY GIRL” He howled, holding his arm out watching as I ascended up the stairs to collect my award.

Tears filled my eyes watching every known star sit down after the standing ovation which was pretty standard for each award, but for me it was still special.

Starting my speech I noticed one person hadn’t sat down once, it was Chris. He stood silently listening intently, his arms crossed over his chest, nodding at every word I said.

His eyes comforting me while I spoke, my nerves dying away and within minutes I was back by his side, right where I belonged.

“I know my girl” He said running over to me and spinning me around, grabbing onto my hand and pulling me towards the exit.

“Wait Chris it isn’t over yet?”

“I know hunny, but this is more important, trust me” He said turning back, opening his car door for me and getting into the driver’s seat.

“Won’t people ask why we just left abruptly?”

“Baby we just won awards we worked our ass off for, it’ll be fine, if anyone says anything it’ll be me they answer to alright?”

Turning his head to me he reassured, his hand gripped onto my thigh, our trophies sitting in the backseat.

“Where are you taking me anyway?”

“Here” Pulling into a random street in downtown I looked at him confused, watching him walk over to help me out of the car and into the building.

“Chris it’s beautiful but what is it?” I asked walking inside the door to see racks of clothes, it was clearly a clothes boutique, a fine one at that.

“Take a closer look at the clothes baby” Looking at the fabrics and designs closely, my body froze, they were my designs.

“I-I did you- Is this-?”

“Welcome to your boutique baby, you deserve bub” He said walking over to me and turning me towards the whole shop, which was decorated in light neutral tones, mannequins designed in my work.

“You did all this for me?“

“Of course, I love you, you deserve the best because you are the best”

Not even bothering to reply I buried myself into his arms, feeling an overwhelming amount of happiness and gratefulness.

“Does this mean that tonight I can get a-“

“Don’t push it Evans”

“Gotcha babe, don’t ruin the moment I get it” He sighed out

“But yeah most likely” I replied giggling, instantly feeling him stiffen underneath me.

[sassyjoy]

joyride

genre: smut

word count: 1802 

⋆｡˚ ⋆ ☾

It's the last day of Red Velvet's comeback promotions, and Joy still won't respond to your calls and texts unless it is related to her upcoming schedule. Joy started ignoring you when she found out that you feigned ignorance when you knew all along that her boyfriend was cheating on her. She became furious when you told her that you didn't want to meddle in their relationship and that you were only working for her. You, denying the friendship you had with Joy, made you feel hurt more. 

Both of you first met at a variety show, in which Red Velvet, a newly debuted group at the time, guested when you were still an intern at the broadcasting station. The cast were eating lunch when Wendy, her member, accidentally spilled her drink on Joy's white shirt. She immediately caught your attention when she politely excused herself to the staff and ran towards the nearest comfort room. Minutes passed and she's not back yet, so you have decided to follow where she went. You knocked on the door gently, and you were both surprised upon seeing each other. You quickly turned your back on her and apologized as you saw her wearing her bra. You took off your black hoodie and gave it to her without making eye contact and told her the shoot will resume soon, so she has to hurry up. 

A week after that shoot, you two met again, and she returned your hoodie. Ever since that day, you became close to the point that she recommended you to their company when their group needed a manager. The broadcasting station you were working for cuts off some of their employees' contracts, including yours. But with Joy's help, you were able to have a job promptly. You're the youngest among the managers, having the same age as Joy. Maybe that's one of the reasons why you became friends. You share the same concerns and thoughts about being at the same age.

That's why she was disappointed when you didn't tell her that her boyfriend was cheating on her. You were vocal about not liking him, but Joy thought you were just joking. The first time you met the guy, you knew something was off, and you were sure of it. You told her that over text, and apparently, her idol boyfriend was the one who read that message. He made Joy stay away from you, but she didn't want to until they were fighting about that idea the same thing over and over again. You just shrugged and limited your conversations with Joy. That's your best friend and she's happy with that man. You had no other choice but to avoid contacting her unless it's related to work. You thought Joy wouldn't notice but she did, and both of you had a quarrel concerning that matter. It was an immature act. She couldn't imagine avoiding you, her friend, just because her boyfriend ordered her to. But in the end, she gave up because it seemed like you had already made up your mind.

Joy, having a cold war with you is not a surprise to the Red Velvet members. Every time you two have a fight, the older members would make you sit at the back with Joy, and after a ride from a schedule, both of you would make up. But this time, you thought it was hopeless. 

It's 6 pm, and Red Velvet has just finished their radio guesting, and you’re all on your way to the company. You were sitting at the back of the van with Joy, who was gazing out the window with her airpods on. You were monitoring Red Velvet's viewable radio on your phone when the driver suddenly beeped  the car horn, which caught your attention. 

"We're stuck in traffic. I think this will take another hour before we get there." You heard the manager sitting in the shotgun seat say to the person he's talking to over the phone. 

You sighed as you looked at your wristwatch. It’s already past an hour when you become stuck in the traffic and the van hasn't made any progress ever since. You took a glance at Joy and she was already knocked out. She must be tired from their back-to-back schedules. Your gaze darted from her sleeping face down to her neck. Her head was leaning on the window, you thought that her neck might be strained, so you sat closer to her and slowly placed her head on your shoulder, careful not to wake her up. Minutes after, you felt your eyelids getting heavy, so you started taking a nap too. 

The sound of the rain made you awake, and as your eyes scanned your surroundings, you realized that the car was already moving. It was dark, but you could tell that Joy was still sleeping peacefully, with her head on your shoulder. It was getting a bit chilly, so you pulled up the blanket covering Joy's legs, thinking that she might be cold. You were about to close your eyes again when you heard Joy moaning your name, so you looked at her and thought that you were just mistaken. Then it turns out you're not because she moaned again and this time it was louder than before but weak enough for her members to hear. You were starting to get hard and you were feeling guilty about it. 

You were planning on waking her but she suddenly woke up. She was shocked at the proximity of your faces, so you moved away, back from your original spot. After a while, you noticed her fiddling. Even though you weren't in good terms, you asked her. She was taking deep breaths, so you thought it was something serious. As her manager, you told her if she needed anything she could just wake you up from your sleep and you'd help her. Joy didn't respond, so you closed your eyes again, trying to go back to sleep to shrug off your dirty thoughts. 

You were on the verge of sleeping when you felt a hand on your left knee, which made you jolt. You opened your eyes and it was Joy. She made a 'shush' sign, so you looked around and saw that except for the driver and manager in front, everyone was sleeping. You look out the window and it seems like you guys are still far from your destination. Joy suddenly pulled you by your collar to get your attention. 

"You told me you'd help me if I needed something," she whispered and nibbled your ear which sent shivers to your spine. You stared at her for a second and avoided her eye contact right away, restraining yourself from doing something. 

"I know what you're trying to do, and we both know we can't do that again." You said whispering, but Joy just rolled her eyes at you before leaning to your side again to whisper. This reminds you of the same thing that happened between the two of you before she even started dating. Joy was sending you pictures of her wearing sexy outfits for her solo stages. One day, you guys found yourselves in the dressing room having a makeout session, during which you almost got caught by Irene. The good thing is that the door was locked, Joy pretended to be sleeping and you were talking to someone on your phone.

"Then why are you hard?" She moved away, then pointed at your crotch, which you covered immediately with your hoodie. Joy checked the members sleeping in their seats in front and you did the same. 

"They're all asleep." That caught you off guard, and you knew it was a bad idea. The sound of the rain was loud enough, and Joy was sure that the driver and the other manager couldn't hear your conversation. You were about to speak when Joy cut you off by asking the manager in front to turn on the radio, which can be heard inside the vehicle a few seconds later. And it took you a minute to give in to her. You grabbed Joy by her cheeks and kissed her roughly. It was messy but you know she likes it this way. Joy pulled away and looked at you, meeting her wide, lust-blown eyes. 

"I need you to touch me." Joy orders you, which causes you to cast another look in front. The two men in front are staring at the road, and the rest of the members are still sleeping. Everything around you is dark enough to hide what you're doing at the back of the van. 

"Are you still mad at me?" You asked as Joy grabbed your hand and placed it on her boobs. It seems like she wanted you to grope her breast, but you had other ideas in mind. 

"We'll talk about this later-" You gave her chest a squeeze before roaming your hand down to her sensitive spot under her skirt. 

"You're wet already?" You whispered as you moved the strands of her hair from her face with your free hand. Joy bit her lip when she felt your middle finger run through her underwear. She buried her face in the crook of your neck as you moved the gusset of her panties on the side before sliding a finger inside her wet pussy. Joy spread her legs wider, which gave you more access to her heat. You began moving your digits in and out. Joy covered her mouth with her left hand while she placed the other on your arm for support.

"Is this pace good enough for you?" You whispered in her ear. She didn't answer your question, so you rubbed her clit, which earned you a tight squeeze on your arm. You can tell that she's trying so hard not to make a noise. Joy's pussy sucks your fingers well. Her juices started to drip on the car seat as you pumped your digits into her cunt. 

You know Joy's approaching her climax when she starts meeting your fingers with her hips. You continued to finger her until Joy signaled you to stop. Her wetness covered your fingers, and you heard a sloppy moan slip past her mouth. Joy rested her head on the car seat with her eyes closed. You reached for the wet wipes inside your bag to clean up her mess. Right after you discarded the trash in your bag, you arrived at your destination. The girls sitting in the front row were getting off one by one when your phone buzzed as you received a text message. You checked who it was, and it was from Joy, asking you to eat ramen with her later after work with a smirk emoji.

[renjouu]

Soft Tickles

Summary: After a long day of working and promoting their group, all Seungmin wanted was to cuddle with a member. However, things take a turn and he ends up in a mess.

Positions: Ler! Chan , Lee! Seungmin

Warnings: Tickle fic

A/N: I am super sorry for not being active and not being able to write fics! Hopefully I’ll be back on track soon. This was actually a draft from so long ago that I didn’t finish, but because I feel super guilty for not posting anything, I managed to find time and finish this fic. I hope you enjoy reading!

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After hours and hours of not being in the dorm and having to be out promoting music, the members finally finished their jobs for today. Sighs of relief ran around the room as each member came in through the door one by one.

“Aish, I’m so tired.” Lee know murmured out with his eyes shut but still managed to navigate his way around the dorm.

“I’m pretty sure we all are.” Chan chuckled as he stared at his members who were all mumbling in tiredness.

As the members went to their rooms one by one, only one of them stayed outside with their leader, which was Seungmin. Chan turned around to face the younger who was surprisingly already looking at him.

“Hyung…I know you are tired and all and I am too but for the past few days I’ve been craving cuddles and I need them right this instant. Please..”

Chan was shocked at how straightforward the younger was being and found himself in lost of words, which only made Seungmin more nervous.

“Look, It’s okay if you don’t want too. I was kind of-”

“No, Seungmin. Of course we can cuddle for a while. I was just surprised at how straightforward you were about this.” Chan spoke before the other could finish his sentence.

The younger smiled and just a few minutes later, he was already comfortable with Chan right by his side on the couch.

They both were super tired and overwhelmed, so this little quality time was really worth it, considering what has been going on lately.

Seungmin was close to dozing off in Chan’s arms until he felt a poke to his side, which immediately woke him as he slightly jumped at the sudden action.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep in my arms, you’re hard to wake up after.” Chan chuckled as the younger just whined while rubbing his eyes.

“Hyung, I’m tired..” He whined out, making eye contact with the leader using puppy eyes. Unfortunately, Chan wasn’t buying it today.

“You fall asleep and there will be consequences.” Chan spoke while sending two pokes to the younger’s side again.

“Hehey!”

“Unless you wanna go into your room and sleep, that’s a choice too.” The leader added on with now a squeeze.

“Hyuhung!” Seungmin giggled out as he received never ending squeezes to his sides.

“Oh? Our Seungminnie is ticklish here?” Chan teased, causing the other’s cheek to slightly blush a pale red out of embarrassment.

“Y-Yohohou suhuhuck!” Seungmin managed to choke out between the giggles that were continuously pouring out of his mouth.

“Now I suck? That’s not how you speak to your hyung, Seungmin.” Chan scolded as he attacked the younger’s hips softly.

Seungmin leaned more into Chan’s chest, hoping the tickles would calm down, but he was unfortunately wrong.

“Hyuhuhung! S-Stahahap!” Seungmin buried his embarrassed face into the older’s chest as mean fingers dug into his hips.

“Alright, alright.” Chan took back his hands as the younger panted, catching his breath.

The leader waited for a few seconds until he fully charged at Seungmin’s armpit, causing a loud shriek to let out of his mouth.

“hyuHUHUNG! YOHOHOU SAHAHAID-!”

Chan laughed at the others state before finally stopping his tickle assault. Seungmin pouted and Chan found it adorable.

“I’m just playing with you. You can sleep if you want to.”

In just a few minutes, the younger dozed off as Chan caressed his hair, helping him fall asleep. Chan knew he had to deal with Seungmin being all grumpy later when he has to wake him up, but either way, the younger needed this rest.