#as funny as saying i need to do work and reading fic instead

[camellia-thea]

okay. 400 more words tonight and i'm done for the day. i've talked about player character and immersion, then the martian job and player character creation. i've also got the beginning of something about the cons of choice on immersion -- when a player can't push a barrier while playing. such as da2 not allowing me to beat the shit out of aveline and stop her from being the captain of the guard. i've managed to sneak a lion king reference in (lol)

[prael]

Chemistry

Jenna Ortega x male reader smut [Commissioned fic]

Masterlist word count: 9,196 Kofi(donations/commissions)

"You know that's not my thing, right? Why even bring this to me?" You throw the papers down on her desk and they spill over the wooden surface.

"Did you even look it over?" She sighs, holding out her hands for you to take them back, "This could help you break out of the R-rated mould you've found yourself in."

"Look it over? You know this isn't my genre."

She rubs her forehead as though she's stressed, "Look, we all have to make concessions, right? It's a few months of filming and a lot of money."

"It's fucking romance," you dismiss.

She raises her voice in response, "It's your fucking career."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You push back, and she's taking a glass from the shelf behind her desk and emptying the whiskey within it in one practised motion. She's keeping her cool and taking a moment to simmer down by cleaning up the papers. The silence tells you as much as her words could. She's trying to help you like she always has.

She says, "You know what it means. You're no George Clooney. You're no Vince Vaughn. One trick ponies are rare. You gotta work on your range."

You stay quiet, clenching your jaw because you can't argue. This is what she does: tells you what you need to hear instead of what you want to hear. She's tough love and always has been. Took you under her wing and at times carried you to where you are today, so who are you to question her judgement?

"Did you ever stop to think 'why'?" She asks before taking a drink. "Why would I bring you a part that I know you're going to hate?"

You cross your arms, remaining silent as you stare at her. She smirks before answering her own question.

"Because I know who they're eyeing for the leading actress. Jenna Ortega. You know she's all the rage these days. Netflix deals and music videos. She's fuckin' viral and she's fuckin' money. Her name is gold so I want you on her fuckin' hip." She takes another sip, watching you absorb the information she's feeding you with an unrelenting stare.

She always gets like this, all the foul-mouthed excitement is enough to convince you that she really believes what she's saying.

"Alright. Got a pen?"

-

Pre-production is... well, it's different. It all feels a little foreign to you, right from the off with the script reading, because it's obviously such a different vibe than anything you're accustomed to. It's all so light and breezy and a little comical. You don't do comical.

There's no deep-seated angst, or hatred festering below the surface of your character, rather he's kind, loving, funny, a little bit of a klutz. It's a long stretch from the characters you usually play—murderers, drug dealers, car thieves. Now the viewers are supposed to like you?

Most days on set aren't that far outside of your comfort zone though—you don't think. You go through the motions like you always do, take direction and talk to the production crew, and keep it cordial and civil with the cast, especially with Jenna. Up until now, your characters have had a few brief scenes. It's all coffee shops and public parks, pretty places with lots of wide shots and lingering looks in the script, and you aren't sure how comfortable you are with it.

"Camera two," The director calls and you and Jenna take up position.

You grab her hand, and her smaller fingers curl around yours instinctively, holding on tight. She smiles at you and says softly, "Just like we talked about, okay?"

You nod and rub your thumb over hers to ease her nerves. There was this awkwardness for the first few days that has gradually eased away, the two of you talking more often. Not work stuff, which might have been smart. Just small talk. About food and places you've visited, TV, and bands, it kept things light and amicable.

"Quiet on the set."

Silence falls, and your heart rate speeds up. Your breathing is a little laboured as you wait.

It's the first time you're supposed to kiss her and somehow it doesn't feel like just acting, not really. Acting for you is fighting with some rogue cop or soldier, all stunted rage and brute force. Or you're stalking someone through the dark streets at night, the cold metal of the gun in your hand biting at your skin while you focus on nothing but landing a kill shot. There was never anyone looking at you the way Jenna is right now.

She's biting at her bottom lip, hazel eyes peering through impossibly long lashes to stare at you. You've been told this scene is important because it's a bit of a catalyst for the rest of the movie. She's looking at you, you're looking at her, and then when they call 'action' it's supposed to be one of those moments where fireworks erupt and the earth moves. That's what they want; a connection.

"Action."

Jenna bites her lip and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing up at you nervously. She's so much more practised than you, so much more effortless with putting on her act. All you have to do is smile and lean down to meet her lips. That's all there is to it, as the director says: just like that, perfect. But you want him to call cut. To say it's too staged, or the lighting is bad, or that the location isn't right.

No such luck.

You move slowly like she needs to be savoured. Of course, you've been coached, there's stage direction in your head in addition to her hand on your forearm.

Your lips brush hers tentatively, once, twice, and you tilt your head a little further to bring her closer. Close, but still not quite... until she breaks character and giggles into your mouth.

"I don't think you're supposed to be laughing," you joke, and there's an eruption of frustration from the other side of the cameras at a ruined take. You aren't bothered though, and neither is Jenna by the looks of it. She's half hiding her face against your chest and grinning like an idiot.

"I'm sorry," she says weakly, pulling away. "It's so hot in here."

She fans herself and starts pacing, while the director calls out, "What the hell was that?"

You wave a hand, "Sorry, my bad." You try to take the blame. "Can I get five minutes?"

The director sighs and gives in with a shrug. "Five minutes!"

"Really, you don't have to—"

"It's fine," you explain quickly, before turning to the line producer who just happens to be passing, "Hey, can someone cool her down? Maybe some water?"

"I'm fine," she tries to argue.

"You're flustered," you tease.

"You were doing this thing with your eyes. I don't know how to explain it. It was kind of intense, I had to laugh," she laughs again, and it's an easy, airy sound, the kind that soothes, and you decide that you like hearing it.

"I was? Damn," you sigh, running a hand through your hair.

"I know this isn't usually you're thing, I'm guessing it's your first kiss on camera? Just relax. It'll be nice," she shrugs, clearly far more sure of herself than you.

-

You're deep into the filming now. You think you're selling it, this whole relationship thing, making it seem natural as well as making the people around you believe that the chemistry is there. The weirdest thing of all is that you really enjoyed kissing her. Or, at the very least, you haven't minded it thus far. You don't know if that's the right feeling to have, there's no guidebook for this—not that you've read.

Off the set, she's nice, she's friendly and eager to get to know you. Maybe it's weird that she's trying too hard, maybe she just wants to work as seamlessly as possible. Regardless, it seems to be helping, because now, when it's your turn for coverage, you're more than happy to lean in and capture her lips. She's gotten bolder and so have you, to the point where she runs her fingers through your hair and kisses you back, so when 'cut' finally comes and the mood is broken, it takes a few moments to reorient yourself to the real world.

It's easy, you decide.

Now, the two of you have been joking about today for a while. She's been running this rhetoric of how excited she is for the car scene.

You remember your first read of the script and how this part had you almost cancelling the gig. So, sitting here in the backseat, with cameras fitted all around you and Jenna in your lap, is just a reminder of the monumental shift from where you were then to where you are now.

"Just ignore them," Jenna instructs and kisses you lightly. "Do whatever feels natural." She's echoing the words of the director, though from her they're much more relaxing to hear. You kiss her, her body languid and warm, pressed flush against yours. The touches you feared come so naturally now as you put a hand on her waist and trace her ribs, dragging her shirt up a little bit more with each pull.

There's something rather enticing, you must admit, about putting hands on her slender waist, even if it's under the watchful eye and strict instructions of the camera. Especially when her tongue does that thing where it flickers past her lips and finds your own. Fuck, she's good at this. There's no other word for it.

There has to be a call for a 'cut' coming soon, right? It was supposed to be a brief make-out, so says the script, but they don't seem too interested in stopping either of you anytime soon. You've heard that it's normal, to feel aroused while filming, but it certainly doesn't feel right. The fear is seeping in the longer this goes on; fear that Jenna will feel exactly what you're scared she'll feel.

But those short jean shorts she's wearing while sitting atop your lap, hips flush with yours, tend to elicit some automatic reaction, whether you want it to or not.

"Alright, cut! Great work everyone. Break for fifteen!" The director yells, the tension snapping immediately as Jenna rolls away, giggling.

She says something to you, you don't catch what as you blink in her direction, but she's already climbing out of the car, bending forward ever so slightly to give you a tantalising show of her ass before shutting the door behind her.

A few minutes later you've made your way to the drinks trailer for some much-needed water, that's when there's a tap on your shoulder and the unmistakable strawberry scent that accompanies Jenna hits your nose.

"You look a little shocked, is everything okay?" She has this wry smile on her face that turns your stomach a little bit.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you respond stiffly, cracking open the water bottle and taking a long drink. You nod towards her and state, "Good work out there."

"I should say the same to you," She's closer than before, the tip of her shoe bumping against yours as you stand with the picnic table at your back. "You're a natural. And the boner? Nice touch," she mocks.

She's far too cavalier for your liking right now, and more than a little brazen.

"Don't look so freaked out. No one is going to say anything. It happens all the time, don't worry."

"Do you just have a thing for humiliating me, Ortega?" It's a thing the two of you have been doing for a few days, the fake sternness and the use of surnames, like you're pretending to be angry with each other.

"What if I do? Are you going to go file a complaint?" She sings, tracing her finger down the centre of your chest.

"Watch it, Ortega," you respond half-heartedly, and she steps a little closer.

"How about you keep the boners to a minimum from now on though. It's distracting." The smirk on her face grows only more devious before she winks and then turns away, vanishing into the crowd and leaving you alone and in need of a very cold shower.

-

On-screen chemistry is the single most important thing in a film like this. If you don't make the watchers believe that the two of you are madly in love, then it's all pointless. You're getting good at this, playing this game, this new facet to your role. You think about the warmth of Jenna's kiss and her fingers curled around the nape of your neck; the feel of her in your arms.

Each take gets harder to finish. Make no mistake, it's not that the kisses are a problem, in fact, they're actually a little too easy.

You're both laid in a bed, under the covers, you're on your back and Jenna is half-draped over you. Her hair is a purposeful mess and there's lipstick on your neck. The implication is clear, the two lead characters hooked up for the first time, and you're simmering in the morning after, caught by your character's phone ringing beside you on the side table.

Jenna is quiet, watching the sheets twitch every time you move. You can tell that she's thinking by the furrow in her brow and the way she bites on her lip. The cameras are rolling and you need to answer the phone. There's no one on the phone, of course, that gets added in post. For the purpose of the scene, it's your ex-girlfriend who can't quite let you go.

"Why do you keep calling me?" You look weary like your heart is about to give up. The line is silent, but you know the script. "I don't care if you're upset with me, it's over. It's done. There's nothing left to say."

Jenna props herself up on one elbow, facing you with her dark eyes, her tousled hair falling over her shoulder. She is, in a word, mesmerising, and it feels wrong to turn your face away from her, even to add more angst for the camera.

"I'm hanging up," you continue, staring back at her.

Jenna pushes her hand under the sheets and balls it into a fist. She hovers it right over your crotch. Her character is supposed to jack you off while you're on the phone until you manage to hang up. That's what's supposed to happen.

You fake a gasp as her hand begins to move. When she bites down on her lip in response, it's the hottest expression you've ever seen. You swallow hard and your cock gives an honest twitch that feels as though it catches her attention for a fraction of a second. Her eyes widen and flick to the source of the movement, her jaw clenches and it brings you an almost unwanted satisfaction.

Each fake stroke presses down onto the growing ridge of your hardening cock, but neither of you breaks character or even dares to break eye contact. You keep up with your lines, and the strain in your voice is all too real, "I don't care how torn up you are about this, me and you are finished."

The ache in your muscles builds heat prickling under your skin, setting you on fire. You tighten your jaw in response as a means to control yourself. Only for Jenna to do the unthinkable. She lowers her hand and glides it down the length of your hard cock before wrapping her hand around it.

What's she doing?

She grips tightly, and even though there is a pair of underwear separating the two of you, it's still her. For the first time in the duration of this shoot, you drop out of character completely, staring at her in utter disbelief. What are you supposed to do in this situation? You can't just say something, it's going to get you both in trouble.

She strokes you beneath the bedsheets in tandem with the scene, so no one else has a chance of knowing. So, you keep talking, murmuring some fake dialogue and struggling with every word.

"It's—mmh," you turn your head, squeezing your eyes closed and steeling yourself. This is madness, utter madness. The throb of your cock only worsens the longer her hand keeps sliding, stimulating. It's a hellish limbo. "It's not fair for you to harass me like this, delete my number will you?"

This is the point where the ex-girlfriend realises something is wrong. In the script, she's figured it all out. She recognises the whimpers in your voice, and you're supposed to deny it. But Jenna won't stop touching you, pushing down harder, applying more pressure and using the full length of your erection as her playground.

Your breathing is heavy and strained. You try to clear your throat subtly, "No, no I'm not with someone right now." You glance at Jenna who grips tighter and smiles devilishly. "You have no idea what you're talking about. If you think, for even a second—"

You try your best to focus on your performance, but with the physical distraction, all your carefully practised lines start to fall apart, coming out jumbled. Jenna is rubbing harder, stroking faster, and her hand feels so good around your cock.

This is the point where your ex shouts, and you finally hang up the phone and drop it onto the floor, kissing Jenna fervently.

"Cut!" The director calls. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Suddenly, the two of you are apart. A rush of cold air floods the space between you. Reality checks in again, reminding you that this was not in the script.

"You good?" Jenna asks, and you nod back. She looks proud of herself, the cheeky little smirk that crosses her features is all too telling. A reminder of just how insufferable she can be.

"What was that?" You lean closer and whisper, trying to make sure that the rest of the cast and crew can't hear you.

"That was acting." She responds confidently.

The director interrupts by calling your name and saying, "Alright, next scene. Going to need you under the covers. Prepare the phone call."

Now it's this whole role reversal, Jenna's character gets her own phone call from her own ex. That's the concept at play here. Meanwhile, you're down between her legs. The script says to 'mimic oral sex' which sounds... so much easier than it actually is.

Aiming to ignore the whole ordeal, or at least your conversation and what it could mean, you duck down beneath the sheets to prepare. She's lifting them up and watching you get into position. She's spreading her legs, while a team of assistants adjust the sheets over you to dress up the shot.

Looking up at Jenna under the sheets, through the darkness and at the apex of her thighs, this feels so wrong. She's... pretty. No. You stop the thoughts in their tracks. This isn't a time to indulge. You're filming a movie, playing a role. In reality, this is your job. There's a script, there's a purpose.

Still, the whole situation just feels so strange.

"Action," the director yells.

As per the script, Jenna drops the sheet as the phone rings. Now it's just you and everything below her chest, trapped under a blanket. Your hands are barely hovering near her thighs, and revenge is on your mind. If she can toy with you, you can toy with her.

So you hold her spread legs, grip them firmly just as you hear her answer the call, "If you want to grovel, then go ahead and grovel. Just remember the last time." Jenna's voice is perfect for her character, and just as it's always been, full of attitude and feisty. She's passionate, especially when it comes to putting her acting on display.

Alright, 'mimic oral sex'... first it's kissing. Lightly placed, right at the top of her thigh, little pecks to tease and taunt. You feel the slight tremble beneath your fingertips as she attempts to carry on the faux conversation. They said you shouldn't touch her. They said she shouldn't touch you.

But you feel the heat coming from her. You're mere inches away, and sure, there's the cotton thin fabric of her underwear blocking the way, but even still you catch the barest hint of her scent—sweet and musky. You grip her thighs more intensely and press your lips against the fabric.

"It was one kiss," Jenna continues, and her voice betrays her now. A subtle tremor that undermines how put together she had seemed moments before. It's enough to have you smirking.

You roll your tongue over the shape of her through the fabric, testing your limits. There's only so much you can get away with, but you'll push it. Push it as far as you can, this is the bed she made.

Jenna rolls her hips towards you, and, of course, the cameras can't see this, all they can see is her on the bed holding the sheets and pretending to talk to her ex.

"It didn't mean anything..." She tries again and fails, a breathy moan forcing its way out and revealing the growing pleasure, the need growing in her voice. She has to place her free hand over her mouth as you continue to taste her, your tongue working over her panties with no hesitation, all rhythm and no breaks.

You continue, running the flat of your tongue over her, flattening the damp fabric against her cunt, and you feel her throbbing. It's undeniable, the way she tenses under your grip and shifts ever so slightly, each slight movement an obvious clue towards her struggling with maintaining her composure.

It's not difficult to hear the change in her voice. The shake and strain of each breath only grow worse the more your tongue curls against her panties. Sure, you haven't yet come into contact with bare skin, but simply knowing just how enraptured she is by the teasing, is enough.

You can't help the slight chuckle that follows, and why would you? This whole performance is starting to become very personal, and when you squeeze her thighs, and apply pressure until it's enough to bruise, you can hear the soft mewl as she fights her way through a rather passionate phone call.

"Why don't you just fuck off?" She hangs up the phone and throws it to the side. In a moment, the same hands are wrapping around your head and dragging you close. As if there was any space left to separate you. "Oh god yes!" she moans out—it's all the script. The scene is supposed to continue until there's a fade to black. No one needs to know that the moan is real.

At the very least, she tries to contain herself. Though her hips swaying, and bucking rhythmically against your face say something very different. And the heat radiating from her core is undeniable. The cotton of her underwear sticks to her so heavily, clinging to the slight folds and wrinkles. Enough to get a good idea about what's going on behind it. That there is indeed a welcoming, quivering cunt that might benefit from an enthusiastic tongue.

Jenna's groans take on a noticeable tempo. "Don't stop, don't you dare stop. Fuck. Yes!" Her words are spilling out messily. For a moment, her responsibilities seem to vanish. She's abandoned her character and resorted to feeling your tongue against her pussy with such ferocity that, were it not for your hands pinning her down, she might have suffocated you in that tantalising heat.

As the cameras continue to roll, with filming still going on above the sheets, the pace only grows hastier.

You're aware of your heart rate spiking, the sudden realisation, the knowledge that someone might be onto the two of you, that you've crossed the imaginary line that exists between the bedroom scene. With the flicker of your tongue, that line gets a little more blurred.

And Jenna seems to be in no hurry to stop either. What was supposed to be just acting becomes a carnal need. Her hips wriggle frantically against your gyrating mouth.

"Cut!" Comes the much-needed command, and you rip away from beneath the sheet.

Jenna's chest heaves, her thighs tremble and her toned stomach tenses. You struggle, forcing back the burning desire to claim her, devour her, kiss her senseless.

It's just acting.

-

Filming goes late into the night, as it so often does. Jenna has a series of scenes with the supporting cast, and you're only there to support them. Still, you make sure to keep watch from the sidelines. She's beautiful when she acts, all passion and fire. That's another reason you're so drawn to her. Everything is so easy for her, flawless. Talented little minx.

Hours after sunset, you stop by her trailer to check in, like you so often do.

You knock, and seconds later she peeks out of the door, saying, "What? What did I do now? Oh, it's you." The harsh greeting melts away into relief, and you grin at the reaction.

"Damn, maybe I'll go then." You make a gesture to turn away, and Jenna grabs your wrist and pulls you inside with all her strength.

"Are you stupid?"

"Me? No, the very definition of sanity." You laugh and follow her further inside. It's bigger than your own, with a seating area and everything. Not that you can focus on the surrounding amenities. Because her black, lace thong is the only thing she's wearing, and, for a second, it leaves you speechless. It's impossible not to stare at the way her round little butt perks out behind her.

Jenna asks, "Like what you see?"

"What happened to your clothes?"

"My clothes are fine, I'm in my trailer aren't I? Nothing strange about relaxing like this." She says as she saunters off, the golden curves of her back highlighted by the single lamp she has lit in the corner. She stands in her kitchenette, bare back to you, pouring herself a glass of red. Her thong contrasts starkly with the honey colour of her skin. She stretches an arm back, and half glances over her shoulder.

"I can feel you staring, you know?" Jenna says, pausing for a moment while the cogs turn in your brain. After a while, there's no point in resisting. So, you close the distance between you, stand behind her, and embrace her thin waist.

"Am I bothering you?" you question, pressing closer.

"Only a little," she leans back into the touch. "But that doesn't mean stop."

An unseen force guides you. Perhaps it's those thoughts that came to mind when you were holding her, on set. What would happen if you just got to know her better?

Your mouth feels so dry from the nerves, but you drag a hand up the length of her waist, over her taut stomach, before cupping her breast. Jenna closes her eyes and hums in response, and when your palm rubs against her bare nipple, her mouth falls open.

You sink to her ear and bite it gently while catching her nipple between two fingers, which elicits a sharp gasp from her lips. You pull her firmly against your chest, and her back presses to your shirt. Fingertips brush her belly, stroking from hipbone to ribcage.

"I figured we had a little unfinished business. Remember?" You kiss her earlobe and grin, fully aware she can't see the expression.

"It did seem to me like you were quite close to being finished," she teases. Your fingers curl and squeeze the swell of her breast, earning a groan. "Tell me. How was my performance?"

"Could use some work," you mumble, kissing the side of her neck. Jenna's breath shudders when your teeth drag against her throat. She sets the glass down, freeing her hand to rest on your forearm. Holding, or perhaps holding on, you can't tell. Either way, it's an invitation to keep going.

"You think so? Looked to me like it was the best performance you had ever seen—ahem—felt."

You chuckle in her ear. All the while, her breathing becomes a little heavier. She even reaches a hand back, curling fingers in your hair to make sure your mouth remains on her. It sends an alarm bell ringing in the back of your head, a warning, a red flag, a stop sign. But what if you don't?

"I'm not like my character," she whispers. "She's all romance, nice dates and lovey-dovey shit."

"No?" you whisper.

"No," she says sternly. She twists under your grasp to face you. Your hand lands on her hip, and before she's looking up at you with her lips parted, she murmurs, "But I do enjoy being eaten out."

This time, Jenna pulls you down into the kiss. The sweet pout of her lips draws you in. She tastes sharp, like the wine, but her mouth is warm and inviting. You take her bottom lip between your teeth, and she moans, her painted nails scraping through your hair. You feel her hands fumbling, then the thud as your pants fall.

"Fuck me," she breathes the command when your palm finds the swell of her breast again. She's pushing you back, guiding you across the room, pinning you onto the arm of her couch. She lifts her knees and presses it between your legs. She pins you there and continues to kiss you, harder, rougher.

She grabs the collar of your shirt, and then the buttons begin popping. The air brushes your chest making you even more aware of the insanity unfolding in her trailer. As she unravels the rest of the shirt, Jenna pulls back, standing up with a cocky smile on her face.

There's not a chance to speak, or even comprehend, for that matter. She puts her palm on your bare chest and forces you back. You crash into the cushions, and the next thing you know, Jenna swings a knee over your head.

In an instant, she's hooking her thong to the side, then taking a handful of your hair and sitting on your face. Your hands move automatically, gripping her thighs, pressing thumbs into the soft, ample flesh. Your tongue brushes across her pussy, and the feeling of your tongue flicking across her makes Jenna let out a beautiful, quivering moan.

Her scent intoxicates. It's divine.

With strong hands, she leads your movements, grinding forward against your mouth. Daring, unashamed, desperate. She's just as much an animal as she is a woman, and that realisation makes your body tense. You part her tender folds with your tongue and taste the warmth of her nectar, causing Jenna to keen.

Her cheeks grind against your lips as she quivers atop you. Her sighs alternate between delighted huffs and breathless moans. As long as you're licking, the sounds keep coming. If anything, they grow stronger and more desperate. She won't hold back, and it makes your head spin, your focus becoming a singular, dizzy blur.

Her juices coat your mouth, slicking your chin and running down your throat. She tightens her grip on your scalp as if trying to punish you. But really, her actions only draw you closer. The taste of her makes you drunk, and not the kind that comes with a hangover in the morning, no. But the kind that makes the rest of the world and its expectations dissolve, leaving just the two of you in the remaining silence.

Jenna's pussy is a beautiful thing, you realise. Swollen and dripping, deliciously wet. It's a tempting treat just begging to be toyed with. You tongue her clit, rolling it back and forth. When you get just the right spot, a tremor passes through Jenna's frame, a hard squeeze of your scalp, as though it had been scalding her.

"Fuck, so good," Jenna groans. "Keep going. Just like that."

More noises pour out of her and splash into your ears, exciting you in a way you've never been before. And the little shimmies she gives you aren't unpleasant, or unwelcome, far from it. Those subtle dances send waves through you and make the motions of your mouth automatic. Your tongue can't get enough. Neither can your hands. You bring them higher, taking her firm ass, sinking fingertips into her plush, round cheeks and pulling her onto your face.

The movement makes her laugh. "Look at you, so excited. Hungry, are we?" You stroke your tongue up the length of her glistening wet cunt, and Jenna twitches on top of you. Her delight returns, a cry of joy and want. "Go on, eat it. Eat that fucking pussy."

The muscles in her abdomen tighten. Sore and taught, every part of her shivers and shakes, twitching and fluttering with your movements. She cries out in ecstasy, as driven mad by your tongue as you are by her taste.

Her thighs clamp around your head. You can feel her begin to writhe, twisting left and right as the pleasure rages through her. She can't control her hips, keeping them glued to your mouth and twitching violently.

Jenna cums, and her juices flow into your mouth. You drink the reward of your handiwork, as her words become hazy murmurs. An erratic pattern of curses and blasphemous platitudes. As if singing all her highest praises.

When she stands, her legs wobble with the aftershocks of an orgasm, but her posture says there are still things she wants, things only you can give her.

It takes seconds. Jenna's thong is on the floor and then she's pulling at your waistband, tugging them down until she has your cock free. Her nails scratch along the length of your length and her palm settles around it.

"Fuck, you're so hard."

Jenna strokes your shaft and gives it a playful squeeze. You watch the heat shimmer and roll around in her eyes as she sizes you up, and the way your cock gives a stubborn and needy twitch. She seems to like that, too.

When her eyes go lidded and she lowers her head down, opening her mouth and slipping her tongue across the head, you almost can't comprehend how good it feels. Your spine tightens, everything goes rigid, and you're left without a shred of control over your voice. That seems to matter not at all to Jenna.

"Hold on," she slips the head of your cock between her lips, just barely, and smiles around it as she smears your precum across her tongue. Before she looks up, meeting your eye, and then forces her head down further, wrapping her warm, wet mouth around as much of you as she can manage. You both gasp as her tongue sweeps along the underside, and you see her cheeks puff out for a moment, then relax once she settles into a rhythm.

It feels amazing, un-fucking-real. Jenna is bobbing her head up and down. Blissful moans leave her with every pass, and the lust-fogged look she gives you should be illegal. Wet sucking and slurping fill the trailer, drowned out by her hums of adoration. Each one sends vibrations shuddering through your cock.

You thread your fingers in her hair. It's a token act, your control as she moves means nothing. In a blink, she's sucking the length of you down to the very base. She struggles a little when you hit the back of her throat, but pushes through, going again and again, deeper and harder each time. Tears threaten in the corners of her eyes. Still, she won't stop.

"Jenna," your voice is thick and strained. "I'm going to—"

A few more passes of her hungry, slippery mouth have you finally toppling over the edge. If she has any intention of pulling away, the temptation or aversion isn't potent enough for her to react. She kisses and slurps, bobbing feverishly, drinking your spurts of cum and caressing your length with her soft, swollen lips.

Jenna stays with you in her mouth, breathing heavily, the look of satisfaction on her face intense and perverse. She takes her time to gently nurse the last pulses from your erection until you're twitching and overstimulated. Only then, and after a minute longer, does she finally concede and pops her mouth off your cock.

The emptiness it creates feels too much like a loss, and yet, all you can do is stare at her, heart hammering and unable to feel anything past the aftermath.

Jenna perches herself on the coffee table, her legs pressed together and angled to the side, letting her hair fall over her bare shoulders. With one hand, she cleans her mouth and smiles at you.

"I guess this puts a line through unfinished business, huh?" She laughs a little. "Long day tomorrow, best get some sleep."

Then just like that, you're half-dressed, watching her slip off to the tiny bathroom to clean up. A few minutes later the trailer door swings shut, clicking behind you.

Outside, the night air is cool and bitter. It snatches the warmth away from the memory of her touch.

-

They're saying it's going to be a success. Critics have reviewed the project already, including early screenings, and private showings. The reception is very positive. That's great, you know it is, and everything is piling up and coming to a close now. All that's left is one last night, the premiere itself, the main event. This will determine the fate of the film, whether it's a runaway hit, a fantastic start to awards season, or a straight-to-streaming disaster.

"Been a while," the voice behind you says and you turn to see Jenna at your shoulder. She looks exquisite, elegant, and alluring in her gown.

"Understatement." You take the time to look her over again. It was only a couple of months ago you saw her naked and had her on your face. It feels so distant, and almost like a dream. Maybe it is, given how quickly she went cold afterwards.

"Red carpets aren't really my favourite thing. It's... all overrated, isn't it?" She sighs.

"Yeah, you told me."

"I did?"

"At the party, on the last day of shooting. You said, and I quote, 'I hate red carpets, everyone is so fake.'"

She rolls her eyes and laughs. "I must have been drunk."

"You were very drunk," you confirm. "Remember? And you were doing that thing with your foot."

Jenna tenses. "I did, didn't I?"

It was a few hours into the party, and most everyone was way too drunk to even make sense. You found yourself sitting down, trying to stop your head from spinning the way it was. Then she came and sat across from you. Apparently, she'd been drinking more than usual, given the wide-eyed look she had when she'd approached.

"You're handsome," she told you and flashed a drunken smile.

"You're drunk enough to say that to anyone."

"You're smart," she leaned closer, and even in the darkness of the room, you were mesmerised by the way her tanned skin contrasted with the tight, white dress. "You're talented. I'm glad they cast you." She runs her foot from your ankle, along the inside of your leg.

Her toes met your knee. You think you stopped breathing as she traced circles on your inner thigh. You looked up at her face, and she was smiling, a devilish one that said she knew exactly what she was doing.

"You smell so good. Like coffee and mint. It's infuriating." Her shoe slid higher, pressing against the crotch of your pants, and she frowned. "No reaction. Maybe you're shy? Oh, wait."

She pulled her foot back and then bent to the side to reach down under the table. After a few seconds and a few confused expressions, as she fiddled with something out of sight, her shoe fell to the floor. Jenna slid the sole of her bare foot between your legs.

"That's better, right?"

She sat up straight and clicked her tongue. You couldn't believe it. Barefoot, hair down, smouldering gaze and curling her toes against your crotch. It was a lot for you at the time. She smirked, shifting again and sipping a glass of champagne before putting it to the side.

"So, how has it been? This whole romance thing?" She stepped closer with her toes and her heel pressed over your cock, digging in slightly.

"I hated the idea of it. Didn't want any part of it. But being here with everyone has made me change my mind. I've done well."

She started to rub the underside of her foot faster, creating an overwhelming amount of friction. And her smug, smiling face wasn't helping your cause at all. Then she leaned closer, so her chest was bunched up and exposed. She teased the top of your cock with her toes and rested her chin in her hand.

"I think you just have to accept it. Learn to enjoy it. It helps that everyone was so nice to work with."

"Was I?" she asks with a flirtatious lilt, pressing her toes harder against your stiffening cock. "Was I particularly nice to you?"

You choke out a laugh. "You don't need me to tell you that you're nice to look at. But you don't need me to tell you you're more than a pretty face either."

"Do me a favour, undo your trousers."

Now? Really?

"Seriously? Here?" You're sure your voice was shaking.

"Now or never."

The pressure in your loins was undeniable, and you went to work unzipping and undoing buttons. Discreetly you pried them open and pulled down your underwear. Your cock sprung free, and you sighed in relief.

She rested a hand on your arm. It was surprisingly comforting. Then she pressed her foot down to angle your cock against her instep, slipping her soft, warm skin up and down your shaft, barely rocking it back and forth.

"That's better." She smiled sweetly, teasing the head with her toes. "You were nervous." She circled the tip of your cock with her big toe. "That first day of filming, you were so worried about messing up."

"Well, yeah. New role, new movie, no way of knowing."

"Hindsight is always 20:20, but you worry too much. Don't spend so much time thinking about what can go wrong, focus more on the things that can go right."

"Like this?"

"Like this," she grinned as she spoke. Her foot pressed harder and moved faster, stroking you up and down and you did everything you could to keep a straight face as people walked by. Each with an innocent conversation, unaware of what was going on beneath the table. "Besides, you did alright."

Alright. Not great. Not good. Alright.

It's about as much of a compliment on your work that Jenna has ever given you verbally, though you wondered if the foot on your cock is indicative of anything.

"Thank you. I, uh, appreciate the feedback."

"We make a good team." Her eyes narrowed as she focused on getting you off and her top lip stiffened. "Solving problems. Improvising scenes." Her foot kicked up a gear, in a blur, up and down, faster and faster.

"Jenna, I'm—"

"Great on-screen chemistry. Great off-scene chemistry." She pushed you right over the edge with her sole on the underside of your cock. The look on her face said it all. A smile so wide as she felt you twitch against her, throbbing, shaking, and pouring cum right over her skin. "Though you are rather easy to manipulate, aren't you?"

She shot you a wink as she cleaned her foot with a tissue. "See you around."

That image has been burned into your head for a long time since then, though you work to shake it out of there while walking the red carpet. It's all camera flashes and the chore of being paraded in front of them. You follow her lead, and she meets the press with the very embodiment of what they'd want—grace, charisma, flair and passion.

You answer a few basic questions that can't reveal anything interesting or new. Something about keeping the magic, and hopefully breaking it when you win a bunch of awards. Wouldn't that be nice?

"Where do you think this opportunity takes you after the film is released?" one interviewer asks.

"Obviously, any opportunity to work with other amazing talents is an honour. I don't know when, if, or what the offer will be, but I'm certainly happy to be working again."

"And if you had the opportunity to work with Miss Ortega again?" It's a question that she overhears, and she throws you a look over her shoulder.

You try not to stammer. "Of course, if I was fortunate enough, I'd take it. She's... unparalleled."

-

This has never been your favourite part, it might even be the worst. Sitting through your own premiere, watching your own work, it's like a long, self-aware nightmare. It's a natural reaction, but that's little consolation, particularly when you know what scene is coming next. It's some over-complicated form of torture to watch yourself get a handjob on the big screen. Everyone's watching. Including Jenna, sitting next to you.

This is the cavalcade of self-humiliation.

To your surprise, Jenna reaches over to slip her fingers between your own. It's the gentle and comforting squeeze that's accompanied by a sly smirk from her when you glance in her direction. Her eyelids lower and an undeniable tension builds between the two of you. She leans in to whisper to you.

"About last time..."

You smirk. "Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?"

"The ending was abrupt, don't you think?" Her teeth catch on her lip, and those sinful eyes narrow.

"A little."

"Follow me."

Jenna stands up without waiting for an answer. Being in the back corner of the screening makes it fairly easy to slip out after her. When you reach the corridor leading to the bathrooms, Jenna looks you over and smirks.

"Tell me," she laughs out the words as she brushes a few strands of hair out of her face and pins you against the wall, "How often do you think about that night in my trailer?" She pushes up onto her tip-toes, wraps an arm around the back of your neck and pulls your ear to her lips. "Don't lie to me, I know you've thought about it."

Her tone is a familiar temptation, and you've missed it. The sensual inflexion in her voice winds its way through every bone and tendon until it's there, inside and immersing you in the raw carnality that Jenna makes you feel. "All the time."

"Me too." She pulls on your wrist, leading you again and heading for the bathroom. You let her, and she pulls you into a cubicle with her, closing and locking the door behind you. "And how many times have you got off imagining it, picturing it." Her hands stroke along the front of your trousers, and the button pops open in her fingers. You don't even get to reply before she says, "Yeah, me too."

There's something perverse about hearing her say that. Something lewd in the way she smiles at you and peels down your trousers and underwear and instantly slumps to her knees. There's no teasing, no showmanship, nothing but blunt hunger, naked and fierce.

"You're beautiful," you whisper, and her eyes dart up, and her lips pause just as she's about to take you. Her hot breath spilling over the tip of your cock.

"Shut the fuck up," she laughs. Her gaze narrows. She sinks her wet, warm mouth down onto your length, swallowing it bit by bit. When the head touches the back of her throat, she giggles as her eyes water.

A moan involuntarily slips out. Your hips buck forward. Jenna's tongue is like velvet, rolling around the tip of your cock, then enveloping your shaft. You can't help the thrusting. It's automatic, primal, a natural response to being encased in her intoxicating mouth.

Jenna looks up at you, cheeks hollowed, eyes wide with anticipation. She pops her mouth off your swollen cock with a wet noise, and immediately, her fist closes around it, jerking you. She smiles. "Wanna do it?"

"That's how you're going to ask?" You scoff, leaning against the cubicle wall, a slight grin pulling at your mouth. "Is the art of seduction really that dead?"

"Well, forgive me if I don't quote poetry at you and cover myself in rose petals," she says as she climbs back to her feet and places her hand on your shoulders. She guides you to take a seat as she jokes, "Poetry bores the shit out of me."

It's almost too fast when her slim hands lift her dress up to her waist. She watches your face, her teeth pin her lip as she reaches down to hook her panties to the side. She slips a finger inside her already dripping pussy. You throb, hard as a rock, when her hand withdraws and she's reaching up and pressing the gleaming digit against your mouth.

You taste her wetness, licking your tongue against it. "Fuck," you growl, the urge to have her, devour her, ravage her takes you.

"You want it?" Jenna sways her hips and bites her lip. Her tight little body was made for sinning, it's plain and simple. You can't resist touching her, teasing your hands up the back of her thighs and around the ample curve of her ass, then pulling her onto your lap.

"Want it," you breathe the words against her lips. Her hand settles around the base of your cock and drags it across her slick pussy. She sighs into your mouth when your thumbs dig into her hips. That's an invitation to slide inside her.

Then you fill her. Her lips seal onto yours, her eyes flutter closed, and a sweet, deep, hungry sound of satisfaction leaves her. It's a sudden rush, everything about this situation, here and now, is a euphoric madness.

She looks incredible above you, her round, firm tits straining against the dress fabric, beads of sweat at the hollow of her collar and the heat in her eyes. Perched on top of you, Jenna rolls her hips forward, grinding against your lap, coiling that hot, wet flesh around your cock.

"God, your cock feels so fucking good," she gasps as she rides you, the way she moves her hips, the wild shifts and squeezes of her tight cunt around you bring the knot in your stomach already. You buck up into her and a ragged cry tears from Jenna's throat.

You seize her hair and kiss her, swallow her cries and moans, her gasps and whimpers, drink every little sound she makes and lose yourself in the rocking grind of her hips. You're both animalistic now. Her with her bouncing, grinding and needy fucking. You with your digging fingertips and the pounding of your crotch against her. It's filthy, it's unhinged.

"This might be the last time we—"

"Shut up," you interrupt.

"Last time we do this."

"Shut the fuck up," your hands dig into her waist, pulling her down and plunging your cock deep.

"Tell me," she says breathlessly, slamming her hips to meet your thrusts. "If we end this right here, is that good enough?"

"Fuck no," you hiss the words. You reach up to pull down her dress, prying her perky, bare breasts free and enveloping one in your mouth. Your tongue traces the nipple and you draw it in deeper. Jenna slows to a firm grind, holding your cock tight inside her before she snaps forward, locking her arms behind your head. You feel the shudder inside her, feel her clenching on you.

It's a deep, powerful moan, straight to your ears, as she cums. Pulling back and grabbing your face in her palms, forcing you to look right into her eyes. The blissful, fucked-senseless expression on her face is priceless, so is the dizzying, tightening feel of her cunt. Jenna collapses, huffing and panting, while you still hunger for more.

You pick her up and slam her against the cubicle door. It rocks under the impact. She giggles and takes a handful of your hair.

"Go on, fuck me. Like it's the only time you're ever going to get the chance."

So, you do. What more could you ever do? Is there anything more rational than drilling Jenna Ortega against a door in a movie theatre bathroom?

"Good, yeah," she wraps her legs around your waist and curls fingers in your hair. "You're getting there." She tilts her head and you claim the side of her throat, biting her neck. "If I tell you that you can cum inside, will you fuck me harder? Is that it?"

You groan into her neck, grip tightens, and you draw her body right to yours.

"If I tell you how badly I want to feel you cum, that it's driving me crazy, would that make it better?" She tightens her thighs around your waist and huffs out the words as though the effort is too much. "Go on. Do it."

The door rattles on its hinges, but you hardly even notice. Everything is her. Her body, her eyes, her voice, her. Your fingers lock around her waist, hold her tight while you pound her. The sweat-slick strands of her hair hang across her forehead, her skin glistens, and you're mesmerised by how good she looks while you fuck her.

You sink your teeth into her shoulder as you fill her. You lose control, twitching, and buried to the hilt, a groan into her skin as you twitch inside her. Cum spurts, your body shakes, her sex pulsates and clenches. She milks everything, and the next thing you know, you're falling back onto the seat, her collapsed on top of you and heaving. Gentle movements of her hips keep the sensations alive until you have nothing left to give her.

Overstimulation sets in quickly, her fingers slowly entwine with yours as you sag back against the seat, trembling and spent. The pair of you stay there, sweat-drenched, messy and grinning, sharing the tangle of soft noises in the silence.

"So, that was..."

"Pretty fucking good," she cuts you off. She rests her head against your shoulder, her hands settle on your arms, caressing you.

"That's what I would have said," you tell her, as you run your hand over her thigh and palm her ass.

"Damn. We might as well get married and drive off into the sunset." She laughs, and you chuckle with her.

"Or maybe we could just do this again sometime?" you ask with a slight grin.

She considers it. Pouting her lips and twitching them side to side. Her expression takes on a knowing edge, something mischievous as she looks you over and replies. "I'll see you around, maybe."

Now that...

That's just cruel.

[soo0hee]

A Teachers Crush

Pairing — Yoon Jeonghan x afab!Reader

Summary — Falling for your coworker was never a good idea and it was no surprise that at one point things couldn't go on the way it was anymore...

Genre — fluff, angst, kindergarten!au

Warnings — kisses, some cursing

Word Count — 3.1k

Rating — pg-13

A/N — I got it done @tusswrites ! Have fun with teacher!hannie my luv✨️

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©soo0hee on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

Working with Yoon Jeonghan was delightful and a nightmare all at the same time.

For one, he was an amazing coworker. Reliable, loyal, funny, kind, helpful and so many more things you could name that would probably tale ages if you had to list them all.

He was wonderful with the kids you and him taught together and he was definitely one of their favorite teachers in the entire kindergarten! Watching him play with them left you feeling warm and fuzzy. Butterflies were flying wildly inside you’re your stomach every single time without fail.

On the other hand, you felt like your heart would explode if you stayed in his proximity for to long… What could you say? You were crushing hard on your coworker and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Handing you your favorite mug with little blue snowflakes covering the porcelain surface early in the morning send a small tired smile on your lips.

“Thank you.” You yawned, flipping mindlessly through the book you planned on reading with the kids later in the day.

“Is it time for The Gruffalo again, hm?” Jeonghan snickered at your sighes.

“Well unless you got something better planned for todays morning circle, then yes. It’s time for The Gruffalo.” You shrugged.

It was only 7:24 am, meaning the only teachers who were around were you and Jeonghan, at least for another half an hour and you were sure that the first kid would arrive soon. In fact, you could hear the happy babbling of the first boy with his mom in the hallway while hanging up his jacket and putting on his indoor shoes.

A little did you dread the encounter with the kids mom. Not because she was a rude person, no! But you knew that when this woman started talking, there was no way she would stop soon. Sometimes you really wondered how she got to work on time…

“Good morniiing, Miss y/n!” You almost jumped at the sudden voice of in front of you. You hadn’t even notice that the boy appeared in the group room until he stood right in front of you, waiting to greet you.

It was custom for you that once the kids were inside, they would greet you one by one so you knew that the child arrived and the child in return felt seen by you. It didn’t mean that it always worked, especially if there are a lot of kids arriving at the same time and someone slips past you into the room. But now you did notice.

“Good Morning, Chan! How do you want to say hello? Do you want to shake my hand, fist bump or high five?” you asked the boy who thought for a second about his options.

“High Five please!”

Holding up your hand so he could easily reach it you gave him a High Five and let him go to decide what he wanted to do next.

Chan walked to the small couch you had tucked away in a more quiet corner of the room where there were books on a shelf on the side and a well loved TonieBox with it’s storytime figurines. Soon the theme track of PawPatrol was heard as he calmly flipped through a book about the fire department. He did this every morning without fail, rather choosing to play by himself while waiting for the next kid to come that he could play with instead of playing a game with you or Jeonghan. Some kids simply had their routines they needed to follow to feel comfortable and that was fine with you. After all, you, Jeonghan and the other teachers did the same thing when arriving.

“Does he have his lunch in a box today, or will he be eating with us?” Jeonghan asked, standing behind you, now with his hand resting on your shoulder. It took a lot from you not to flinch in surprise, especially when you felt his thumb gently caressing the skin that wasn’t covered by your sweater.

Feeling significantly warmer by the second at his touch, you shut the book that was still open and set it aside for later.

“Channie has his lunch in his bagpack today and would it be possible to pick him up a bit eralier today? I know you have your pick up times bit we have a doctors appointment later today and it would be really stressful to be on time for that if I come later.”

You nodded. “Of course! Just ring the bell and someone will let you in then.”

The mother put her hands together as a thankful gesture and said goodbye to her son once more. Chan barely registered his mother talking to him as he was absorbed in the adventure of the firemen on his pages. He muttered a quiet, “Bye mommy!” without looking up and his mother was out the door just when as the next girl arrived and the entire spiel started anew.

However seeing the tears spill from Lily’s eyes at the prospect of having to let go of her dad you got up, missing the warmth of Jeonghans hand on you almost immediately, to approach them.

You wiped her tears with a tissue from the box to your left and held out your arms which she willingly fell into while hiding her face in your shoulder.

“She didn’t sleep that well tonight, so she’s a bit grouchy.” Her father sighed sadly.

“Oh, that’s okay. We all have nights like that, don’t we?” you coed at the girl in your arms while running your hand over her back to sooth her little sobs.

Lily nodded hesitantly but evidently calmer then just a moment before.

Knowing that his daughter was okay with you, he said goodbye eliciting a little whimper from the girl.

“Wanna wave…” She sniffeled loud enough so you and her father could hear her.

The famous “Waving Window” was something the kids loved to go to in the morning. It was a window that they could see their parents once more and wave to them while they walked out to their cars.

“Want me to come with you? Or do you want to wave alone?”

“With you...”

Her father nodded in understanding, told her goodbye and left you and Lily to go to the Waving Window.

Together you watched a woman walk by with her dogs, before pointing to the man waiting for his child to wave goodbye.

Leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile at the sight on the window. Lily was still snuggled into your side but now much calmer and conversing with you and another girl that had just come in about the dogs you had seen.

Ever since you had come to work with him few years ago, he had slowly gotten to know more about you and how you ticked.

To those you didn’t know and who didn’t know you, you could seem standoffish, quiet and desinterested in others, but not long into your partnership he found out just how delightful you really were. Soft, kind, funny, determined, loving. All words he would use to describe you and in quiet moments like this, it showed the most.

Free from the stress of the day you were able to take the time you needed with the girl to bond. Something that sometimes fell through with 25 kids per class who all needed or wanted your attention at the same time.

“Admiring your work wife again, huh?” Soyeon, the teacher from a different class came in and teased at witnessing his star struck face and the male felt his cheeks heat up.

“What? No! I was not-“

The woman raised her eyebrow and Jeonghan fell silent with a huff.

“Oh shut it.”

-----------

The day was surprisingly calm if you were being honest. With the cold weather the season brought with it, quite a few kids were sick and stayed at home and around lunch time, your group of 25 was reduced to 14 in total.

Calm.

While the kids ate their food with Jeonghan helping where he was needed, you went to the other room besides yours where you had a small library to put the book back where it belonged. The giant box on top of the shelf containing some paper you needed to prepare an activity for the next few days mocking you as it was to high for you to reach on your own.

“Jeonghan? Can you come over here?” You called and his face promptly appeared in view.

“Do you need something?”

“Yeah can you get the box down from there?” You pointed to the shelf, pouting that you couldn’t do it yourself.

The man laughed quietly and came in, dogging your weak slap to his shoulder.

“Stop laughing!”

“I’m not, I promise!”

Unimpressed you tilted your head.

“Just help me, you idiot.” You couldn’t stop the smile at his antics and stuck your tongue out at him.

Jeonghan came to a stop and your heart faltered when you realized that he was merely inches away from you, grabbing the box and took it down just to lean even closer.

“Here…”

The words suddenly seemed to be stuck in your throat and for a moment you were frozen as you felt the warmth of his breath fanning over your skin until-

“Are you going to kiss now?”

You jumped in shock. Riki, one of the older boys stood in the door giggling at the sight of his teachers being face to face like this.

Neither of you had noticed the door slowly closing behind the male teacher just like neither of you had noticed the boy opening it again.

“No!” you squeaked while Jeonghan almost dropped the box in his hands.

“Go back to your seat and eat, Riki Nishimura!” Your coworker rushed out, looking every bit as embarrassed as you felt.

Situations like this weren’t new, for neither of you. They happened all the time and at this point you should be used to it.

After all, for months your kids thought you and Jeonghan were married and it took a lot to convince them otherwise.

“But why aren’t you married?” Mari, one of the younger girls wanted to know, not understanding why you weren’t. You had stammered out a half hearted explanation which didn’t leave them satisfied but they also didn’t ask any further.

The worst however was when even the parents started making little comments here and there.

“You okay?”

“Yeah! Y-yeah, I’m good.” You swallowed and quickly left him standing there. Jeonghan stood there for a few moments longer. Rikis words had shifted something in him, something he had tried to bury deep down within him.

They echoed in his mind over and over again.

“Are you going to kiss now?”

No, but he wanted to.

And he had wanted to for so long already, he wasn’t quite sure when it had started.

Was it when he hot to know you? Or when he saw how much you loved what you did?

Or maybe when he realized just how much your eyes sparkled when he talked to you… how his heart sped up when he heard you laugh about something.

He shook his head to get rid of the thoughts and back to reality. A reality where you had run from him…

---------

You felt awfull.

After having run out on Jeonghan you had done everything you could so you didn’t have to talk with. Way to embarrassed by the realizations that had been kick started. So much so, that you didn’t know how to act around him going forward.

You fell silent every time Jeonghan stepped into the room, avoided looking at him and only spoke to him when you absolutely had too.

It irked the man to no end to see you so quiet. Dull almost.

Want to meet up tonight? Go out for drinks with me, Soyeon, Nayeon and Shua? – received 5:34 pm

Staring down your phone you considered not answering his text. You had done so before and if you had then with short answers only.

The prospect of meeting in private after having avoided him for almost 2 weeks and you missed him. Kind of.

I’ll be there – sent 5:46 pm

The bar was just a few minutes away from your apartment by bus and you were determent to have some fun tonight even if you had to play the game of faces and after a few to many drinks you were sure you could get through the night without to much drama.

It was a fun evening, laughing at what Joshua said, Soyeons dad jokes and Nayeons playful flirting with the waiter. That was until you watched Jeonghan chat with the barkeeper a little to smiley when getting their drinks.

Your eyes were glued to the scene at the bar, not able to look away as you suddenly felt tears filling your eyes.

“I have to go.” You suddenly said, cutting of the conversations your fellow teachers had been having, still staring.

“What? Why? Can’t you stay a bit longer?” Nayeon whined at the prospect of having to let you go already. Joshua on the other hand followed your eyes and understood why you wanted to leave. They weren’t blind. None of the were and all of the had seen the switch in you flip to what ever was happening.

“Will you be safe?” he asked ever the gentleman to which you just nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll text you when I’m home.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Joshua helped you up, catching you when you stumbled a bit before wrapping his arms around you for a quick hug.

“Tell him, I promise I won’t go bad.”

“Goodbye Shua…”

With that you were out, walking to the bus station closest to the bar just as Jeonghan came back to the table.

It was cold, only wearing a thin leather jacket over your dress and shivering when you saw the little 11 on the display next to your bus number. You took a deep breath, filling your lung with the cold air cleared your mind and made it fuzzy all at once.

Having seen the barkeeper you knew you couldn’t compare to that. She was pretty, thin, big boobs and a beautiful face and if Jeonghan was as attracted to her as it had seemed like, then you were no match with someone like that.

You didn’t know if you could keep working like that if you had to watch Jeonghan be happy.

Happy with someone that wasn’t you.

“You’re leaving already?” Jeonghans voice startled you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, I’m tired. Ready for bed and all…” you hummed out, looking down at your feet and tightening the hold around yourself.

He slowly came to stand by your side. You could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.

“Y/n, please talk to me… what happened to us?”

You swallowed harshly, continuing to avoid his stares.

“Nothing happened. We just didn’t have time to talk much recently.”

The man scoffed.

“We did have time, you just chose not have any and I want- no, I need to know why!”

Turning around to face him you found him staring right into your eyes. Your knees threatened to buckle underneath you.

“Just let it go, Jeonghan. I just want to go home!” you sighed. You weren’t in the mood to talk and you sure as hell weren’t in the mood t look at his soft eyes longer then you had to.

“Not until we talk. Your bus as still a few minutes away and I need to know… Is this about what Riki said? If what he said made you uncomfortable, then I’m sorry. He’s a kid, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

“It’s not about that!” you said now a bit louder, catching the attention of the people around.

“Then what is it about? Because ei don’t get it! One day we could talk about every thing and the next you wouldn’t look at me. Is the though of kissing me that disgusting to you? Is that it?”

“No! It’s not and that is the problem!”

Shocked by your admission you stepped back, trying to get away as fast as possible.

“What?” Jeonghan stood there, eyes blown wide and looking every bit as beautiful as always.

“Just go back inside. I’m sure the others are waiting for you.”

“I won’t, because when if I heard that right- if I understand what you just said, right… then that would mean that-“

“-I would actually love to kiss you…”

Jeonghan bridged the distance with a few quick steps, cupped your face with his hands and huffed, “Good.” Before his lips crashed into your’s. He knocked the breath out of your lungs and you pulled back only an inch before staring back up at him and surging forward to meet him again.

His soft lips moved smoothly against yours desperate and loving all at once and you knew you didn’t want this moment to end. Hands around his neck, you pressed your body against his, felt his right hand wander to the back of your neck to firmly rest there and his left falling to your waist.

The bus arrived, let passenger in and drove off again.

You couldn’t care less.

You were in absolute bliss at the moment. Kissing the man you had longed for so long like your life depended on it until you had to stop to gasp for air. His nose brushing against yours and his lips merely an inch away from your own.

“I hope what ever doubt has been manifesting in your mind is now gone.” Jeonghan whispered earnestly and all you could do was stare.

“And I want you to know that I would love to kiss you again… until you’re so tired of it that you really will run from me.” The smile he gave you made your heart beat 3 times faster.

“Brave of you to think that will be the case.” You teased back followed by a wink.

[adventures-in-mangaland]

Yet Another Dead Boy Detective Fic Rec List

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

I've been having so much fun with these, so I've decided to make another! See above for links to my other fic rec lists. ♥️

Like We're Gonna Die Young (Again) by RoseGanymede95

The latest installment in the superb Codependency World Cup series has the boys attend a nefarious house party and grapple with old frenemies, 90s fashion and temporary amnesia. Also fleshes out their achingly sad backstories, but compensates with the triumphant return of Pierre the rabbit.

When I Picture You by Gruoch

Charles gets braceleted by the Cat King instead of Edwin and receives his heart's desire... being alive again. This author has a special gift for taking fun sounding premises and turning the angst up to 11. So excellent.

young blood (never get chained) by ghostinthelibrary

University AU in which half-demon Charles intervenes in Edwin's ritual sacrifice and inadvertently binds their souls together... I'm genuinely obsessed with this AU, it has so much potential for tons of delicious tropes. Human!Edwin getting a crash course in supernatural shenanigans! Soulmate vibes!Found Family! Demon lore! What's not to love??

Ghosts and Monsters by justafandomfollower

Charles is also sacrificed and the boys meet in Hell! Fantastic premise and executed really well. I loved Masterful Edwin taking charge and protecting Charles while inwardly despairing. Highly recommended.

back to back they faced each other by ShanaStoryteller

The Night Nurse has a theory about how Charles was able to rescue Edwin from Hell so quickly... I'm genuinely shocked I haven't recced this one already. Sorry guys, I forgor. Anyway, this has interesting "Guardian" (angel?) lore, great meta and we even get some temporary amnesia as a treat.

boyfriend jacket by skadii

5+1 times Edwin borrowed Charles' jacket. The characterisation is on point, and it has some great OCs (Kyle the snarky seeing-eye cat!) and really sweet payneland moments. Plus Charles' jacket doing its most to annoy the Cat King.

Looking Like the Sunrise by letters_of_stars

Edwin thinks he's cursed so he and Crystal must team up to solve the case of his Mysterious and Suddenly Appearing Rizz. Funny and sweet friendship fic with some quality Edwin-Crystal bonding and discussions of trauma.

The Case of the Anonymous Confession by Mayarenerose

College AU featuring Charles posting an 'anonymous' online confession about his complicated feelings for his bestie. The closet is glass, but Edwin is oblivious and Crystal is in pain. Cute and funny epistolary social media fic done really well.

the middle of something wonderful by KiaraSayre

Does what it says on the tin and gives us a trope salad of cosy vignettes, including a time loop, temporary amnesia, sudden corporality and Crystal and Edwin trying to get a good grade in Party. Wholesome.

My heart is like a haunted house (series) by halffulljampot

Charles (unknowingly) befriends the ghost of Edwin's mother and constantly gushes to her about his amazing best friend/boyfriend. Beatrice is a great OC and it's just nice (though extra tragic) to read a fic in which Edwin had loving parents. Read it for Family Feels and wholesome intergenerational friendship.

the first rule of fight club by e_va

The boys are captured by an evil underground fighting ring. The fic is from Charles' PoV, so the prospect of having to fight Edwin was especially stomach-churning. Still, we get Edwin being a badass and a brilliant surprise cameo I don't want to spoil.

The Case of The... by sophisticatedyet

Edwin borrows Niko's negligee and Charles' brain breaks. There's also a case and giant squids, but Charles' Distracted By The Sexy crisis is the main (hilarious) event.

in those heavy days when love became an act of defiance by aletterinthenameofsanity, JUBE514

Daemon AU and first meeting fic! Loved the worldbuilding, insightful character work and lovely use of Greek mythology. Honestly, this fandom needs more daemon AUs.

spinning around and around in an ocean of grief (your ladder came down to the sea) by Ingi

Prequel to DontOffendTheBees' excellent College AU, expanding on the boys being alive and in school together. Also has its own prequel about their first meeting from Edwin's point of view. This one, though, is a Charles' Bisexual Journey/Feelings Realization fic. So lovely.

head in the clouds but my gravity's centered by shadowquill17

Face Touching: The Fic. I just love non-sexual intimacy in fics and this one is so tender. I also love Accidental Kissing and Feelings Realization so my cup runneth over.

i don't want to rest in peace by handwrittenhello

Different First Meeting fic featuring Poltergeist Charles! Loved the concept, even though it made me sad.

the great snogging debacle of '95 by thatgayprince

Edwin disguises himself as a girl and Charles starts and then defers a sexuality crisis for 30 years. Funny, steamy and emotional.

a beautiful day to say goodbye by ofstitches

The agency take on the case of a depressed house. This is another bittersweet Edwin backstory fic with discussions of grief.

Smitten in the Stacks by cordelianoir

Adorable prequel to lolotr's equally adorable library AU. Meet cute featuring (platonically married) Dad!Charles crushing on the hot librarian who leads Children's Storytime.

Jenny Green: Butcher, Hot Mess, Reluctant Queer Elder by Money_Maker

Jenny-centric fic! The focus is on Jenny and her financial, mental and emotional struggles post-canon, but mentoring Edwin through his queer self-discovery becomes a big part of that. This turns into a really sweet friendship, plus Found Family Feels and some fun outsider PoV of the boys' dynamic.

I've always got more recs so watch this space! ❤️

[stuffeddeer]

Hiiii I have literally read through your entire blog today after reading one of your latest fics and finding out your blog is entirely about Dazai so I figured I might as well request something, now that I have read everything (I need more).

So how about a Ada! Dazai and Pm! Dazai with a s/o that instead of just asking for a kiss they steal something from him right in front of his face and then just run away and ask for a kiss in exchange for the stolen item. I just thought about this and I figured it would be a pretty funny scenario :)

tysm anon! i hope you like this just as much!

PM!dazai

"I know you aren't gonna hurt me, Dazai," you grinned, watching as he stalked towards you after you stole his tie.

"Not if you give me what I want," he responds promptly. As much as he loves blowing off work, Mori might not be so forgiving if he's late to this particular meeting. "I'll go without my tie, if you'd prefer."

You let out a dramatic gasp, hand flying over your mouth. "And break uniform?! How unprofessional!"

"The Port Mafia doesn't have a uniform— "

"No, that simply won't do. You'll have to take this tie from me, yes yes," you nod at your own words, as though it was the logical conclusion.

A few steps brings Dazai closer to you, causing you to grin. You stand promptly in place, not letting him scare you back into a corner. "I know you won't hurt me."

"You already said that. What can I do to make my darling little partner give me back my tie?"

You pretend to ponder for a long moment, letting out a low hum and looking away with a hand on your chin. "What can you do, what can you do..." you click your tongue. "Gosh, I don't know!"

"Gosh?"

"Why, I suppose a kiss," you pause for emphasis, "might be adequate..."

Dazai stalks even closer, only a few inches away from you. Breath catching in your throat, you lose all playfulness, just staring into his big brown doe eyes like a lovesick puppy. You gulp before closing your own, slowly leaning in...

"Yoink! Gotcha!" Dazai pulls the tie from your loosened grip, taking a step back with a victorious grin.

"Did you just say yoink— "

"Never take your eyes off the enemy, darling! Surely you know that by now," he presses the tip of his pointer finger to your nose. "You're cute, but next time try a little harder." Slipping on his tie and barely tightening it around his neck, he sends you a blasé wave. "I'm headed to my meeting now. Maybe you can try again when I get back."

You stand still with a dumbfounded look on your face, watching as he leaves the room. An embarrassed blush decorates your cheeks; your boyfriend is such an asshole.

ADA!dazai

"You're taking your poor, innocent boyfriend's pen? How am I supposed to fill out my reports now?"

You only giggle mischievously in response, holding his pen behind your back. "Guess you'll want it back then?"

He hums for a moment before sighing. "Well, if my lovely partner wants it who am I to take it from them?" Dazai replies in adoration, elbows planted on his desk as he rests his head in his palms. "Besides, you're quite cute when you act all proud of yourself. What's on your mind, cutie?"

A pout takes the place of your grin. "Don't you want your pen back?.."

Even though he just said no, Dazai stands up and nods after a moment. Hands dangling at his sides impatiently, wanting nothing more than to hold you, he decides to play along. "My favorite pen," he pouts back. "Please can I have it back? What do you want in return?" Of course he knew this wasn't for no reason. You wanted him to want the pen, so you could wager it for something else.

You decide not to comment on how he was being so obvious about only playing along for your sake — either way, you'll get your desired outcome. "Maybe... a kiss?"

Dazai grins. "Why didn't you say so!" he replies with excitement, practically jumping onto you to press his lips to yours and slide his hands into your sweatshirt's pockets. 

You drop the pen accidentally, caught off guard by his sudden action. Quickly, you place your arms on his shoulders and kiss back.

Pulling back, he grabs your hand and starts for the Agency's door. "Mm, my partner is so warm and cozy. Let's go home early and kiss there instead!"

"What about the pen..?"

ADA!dazai again but he's a big arrogant meanie tbh!!

"Why don't you just tell me what you want, pretty," Dazai's thumb traces your bottom lip, hand cupping your jaw. "No need to play these games, hm?"

"I told you, I didn't take your report," you roll your eyes, arms crossed.

A condescending cooing escapes Dazai's lips that makes your eye twitch. "Babe, I know you just want a kiss from me. I'll give it to you if you give me my report back... In fact, maybe I can give you more,~" he purrs into your ear.

You brush off his touches, clearly unamused. "I didn't. Take. Your report."

"Playing hard to get won't get you want you want. C'mon... it's the only report I've finished," he moves on to pouting, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. "Kunikida said he'd make me a coffee if I got it done on time."

"You're 22, why do you need incentives to do your job anyway?" You roll your eyes.

"Baby, we both know I want a kiss as well. Just hand me the report and my lips are all yours. Or else, I'll have to spend time working on redoing it instead of next to you," he tries once again.

And once again, your eye twitches, fed up with his accusations. "I told you— "

"Uh, Dazai..?" Atsushi timidly speaks up. "Is this the report you're talking about?" He holds up a piece of paper, barely legible chicken scratch covering the blank spaces.

"Ah, Atsushi! You're such a kind soul! I must've accidentally slipped it in with your pile when pushing the rest of my reports onto— eh, never mind. You're a life saver!" Dazai jumps onto Atsushi with a hug before snatching the report to show you. "Look, love! Atsushi found it!"

Tapping your foot in annoyance, you stare down at Dazai, which he didn't think was possible given his large stature. "I'm sleeping alone tonight, aren't I."

"I'll make sure to leave blankets on the couch for you."

[a-collection-of-cool-ideas]

Thank you wonderful fanfiction authors! You do a great part to make life wonderful. Recs below the cut (I CANNOT believe I haven't rec'ed some of these before!) Previous recs: 2018, 2020, 2022. Looks like I only do these every two years lol.

Gravity Falls

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; complete multichapter. A heartbreaking concept with a happy ending. Sad but wonderful and a really fun idea. Working out just what is happening is a great challenge, and watching the pieces fall into place with mounting consternation is awesome.

In Search of Antidotes, by @astriiformes / azhdarchidaen; complete multichapter. An awesome Historical AU, and neither Ford nor Stan go through the portal (there’s still suffering though). Bit of freakiness, bit of funniness, bit of stubbornness, bit of coolness. A very cool read! A much more classic demon-possession story than canon with its modern sci-fi overtones. The gothic sci-fi horror takes the floor here. Jekyll and Hyde, Frankenstein, Dracula, it takes inspiration from all the best roots!

Just a Game, by @nikxation / nikxation; one-shot. Intense! High stakes! Well-written! Doesn’t mess around getting to the point, and hammers its beats into you! LOVE it! Bill holds a gun on Ford, while in Ford's own body. The tension in this is unbelievable!

An Outreached Hand, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete multichapter. Something freakishly supernatural happened to Stan during his homeless days. It’s called Ghost Trick AU, and it’s super interesting and utterly engaging! It’ll have you tearing through it wanting to know what the heck is going on! The characters are all so intense in their own ways, and the plot is drip fed to you piece by delicious piece.

Snapshots from an Alternate Reality, by Rethira; one-shot. PORTAL STAN!! Just a short little one-shot about this alternate version of events, but incredibly cool to read. Love the writing style: it takes you through the scenes like a skipping stone, its wake mesmerising.

All Things Go, by @cantica10 / Cantica10; incomplete multichapter. A weird (in the best way) idea of a crossover between Timestuck AU (where Mabel is trapped in the past) and a Wings AU (where, you guessed it, everyone has wings). Adorable Stan and Mabel bonding, but is SO not afraid to get really dark. That being said, it’s also so sweet and fluffy, and explores the effortless love that Mabel feels for Stan, and that (broken, scared, young, sad) Stan feels for her. This is one of those fics I am compelled to keep coming back to. It’s such a full experience to read.

Snow and Pine, by @ancientstone / TheArchaeologist; incomplete series. A great concept!! Loved the idea of these two brothers being forced together by circumstances instead of intention. Some great selective description here, and the plot itself is a very fun ride. WERE. WOLF. STAN. Need I say more?

Lighthouse Keeper, by @impishnature / impish_nature; incomplete series. There’s a lot to this story; the main work is mostly a series of one-shots, with other works sprinkled between. The idea is so eerie and haunting, and the vibes are pretty different to most other things I’ve read. The instigating artwork by @sightkeeper is magnificent and Imp has managed to capture the images very well!

Triptych, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; one-shot. A very cool character study on Stan. Great for informing his central motivations. It's kept short and sweet, but the analysis is no less thorough for it. I loved the insight into my favourite character's life and mind. Scribe writes him so well.

Blind Faith, by pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. Come on, how could I NOT mention this one? It's one of the many here I'm astonished not to have rec'ed earlier. Super dark, super scary, an AU where both Stan and Ford fall into the portal. Ouch, but cool. Really good, but be prepared to yell out loud in horror. This is a doozy, don’t expect a lot of happy feels going into it. That being said, it is INCREDIBLE. The structure of the story is fantastic, perfectly encapsulating the reliance each of the brothers’ needs to have on the other and how one has to step up when the other can’t. Stan and Ford are forcibly tied together in this, and they find they each mean more to the other than expected after ten years of bitterness and radio silence. A STAPLE of Gravity Falls fics.

Like They Were a Perfect Fit, by @sensitiveowl / hapful; one-shot. Aw, ow, cries. Love! Lots of tangled-up emotions and scenes that will tug at your heartstrings thinking about Ford’s life journey. Speculations on the importance of the photo that Ford is implied to have carried around with him for 30 damn years.

30 Seconds Later, by @invisibletinkerer / shayera; incomplete multichapter. Loved this to death! A really great concept executed fantastically. An AU where while it took Stan thirty years to rebuild the portal, Ford was only gone for thirty seconds. The characterisation of paranoid Ford and his interactions with the rest of his family are perfect, as is his reaction to finding himself in the future and his relationship to Stan. And Stan is wonderful in this too! A very good examination of age, aging, and the associated changes in perspective.

1 Step Forward, 20 Years Back, by @infriga / Ppleater; complete multichapter. An AU where Stan is turned into a kid in the midst of Ford’s pre-portal paranoia over Bill. It adopts the wonder and innocence that comes with youth, but still retains the darkness of Stan’s adulthood - wait, actually, his entire life has been kinda dark in this fic. This is one of those fics you can tell the author had a lot of fun with. It’s palpable in the chapter titles and the art :) The illustrations are beautiful, the story is heartfelt, and it is not at all afraid to go into some dark places. A very enjoyable, loveable, read!

The Road in Front of You, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; complete multichapter. Ford falls through a portal potty and gets dumped in Stan's path. MAN!!! This fic has a really great concept, and Nicnac’s writing is impeccable as always. A great look at Ford and Stan’s relationship post-high school, how their personalities have developed and changed, and most importantly how they reconcile the changes in each other.

Nothing a Little Sleep Can’t Fix, by AkitaFallow; one-shot. Oh MAN. WOW. Okay. A heavier look on the mark Sock Opera leaves on Dipper, featuring repercussions throughout the rest of Dipper’s summer. Absolutely, heartbreakingly, entrancing. The slow build up of the plot perfectly mimics the rising emotions that poor Dipper is struggling to keep a lid on until they inevitably explode, and watching the people who love him pick up his pieces afterwards is just golden.

Ad Infinitum, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; one-shot. My first read of the Same Coin Theory and it was awesooooooooome!!! There are so many repetitions of phrases that spark in my mind because of how great they were, and the aspects of Stan contrasted with Bill that thread through it are incredible. Kind of an unsettling concept. I couldn’t get enough. For a fic that’s all about cycling around, you'd think it'd get repetitive, but every paragraph is rich with novelty. A FEAST.

Some Sunny Day, by @anistarrose / anistarrose; complete multichapter. Another Same Coin Theory fic. The beats of the plot in this are stunning, with some truly awesome lines that left me reeling and thinking Oh SHIT that did NOT just happen!!! In the best way possible. A highly interesting story and some excellent takes on the Pines family and the world of Gravity Falls.

Towards the Sun, by @notthistimespock and pinesinthewoods; complete multichapter. EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Incredible! Love the in-depth examination and speculation on Ford and Stan prefinale. A different ending for Weirdmageddon, following Ford’s journey through Stan’s mind. It gets sad, it gets scary, it gets freaky, you shed tears. Another one of those staple fics for the fandom. The story is a wild and heartrending adventure, full of imagery that stuck in my brain for years after the first time I read it.

Fisherman’s Knot, by @scribefindegil / scribefindegil; complete multichapter. MORE EXTREME BROTHERLY FEELS. Deals with postcanon adventures on the Stan’O’War II, including some reeeaaaally bad mental states/situations. Have tissues handy. I think this is generally regarded as the be-all-and-end-all of Stan twin angst. It is long, it is HEAVY, but it is also heartwarming and hopeful, and full of adventure and magic, and the kind of love it's made with really comes through.

Mob Boss Stan Pines, by Capricious_Passions; complete multichapter. A fic that you HAVE to read over again to get the complete picture. Complex and well-thought out, incredible attention to detail, but the first read will baffle you! A lot of fun trying to figure out what’s happening, and even more fun on the re-read picking up all the details you missed the first time!

Scrapbook, by Shyeye; complete multichapter. The complicated weight of grief hangs heavy over everyone in the story, and the difficulties in dealing with it are at the forefront of everyone’s minds. The depth each of these characters are written with is very much appreciated, not-so-pretty parts and all. This was a wonderful, touching, read.

Rescind, Reset, by @endae / endae; one-shot. Canon divergence where Mabel temporarily lost her life during Weirdmageddon, and the aftereffects on her and the rest of the family. It is one of the most beautiful things I’ve read, very emotionally raw. I cry every time. This incredible story is wrought with a filter of broken hearts being pieced back together as the characters live through the aftermath of their happy ending. It’s a shining, nuanced take on Mabel and how someone with her personality deals with the plot premise. I love the complexity of the emotions in this, not only from Mabel but also from the rest of the Pines as they work through their own traumas.

Safe as Houses, by @beastenraged / Beastrage; complete multichapter. If I could whistle I would! An entrancing read about the Pines family’s adventures from the perspective of their home. Some great and not too far-fetched ideas about how the Shack may have come across to its inhabitants over the years.

Greyscale, by @impishnature / impish_nature; one-shot. OH MY LORD. Incredibly touching and heartbreaking, I can’t look at this directly for fear of being emotionally blinded. Loss, and gain, and loss. Striking, powerful, so, so beautiful and painful. The aftermath of Weirdmageddon: another canon divergence where Stan lost his life. Except... Reverse Portal AU Stan stumbles across this sad dimension soon after. I swear, no fic has made me cry so hard and left me so much in shock of what the heck just happened to me. I love the look at how loss has affected the characters, and I especially love the path to recovery that is laid out for them.

Buying Gold, by @dubsdeedubs / WDW; incomplete series. Veeeery intriguing. It’s not really Same Coin Theory, but it’s a great read about the similarities between Stan and Bill and some cool speculation on Stan post-defeating Bill.

Any Family You Choose, by @nicnacsnonsense / Nicnac; incomplete multichapter. So sweet! Portal Dipper finds a young Stan Pines and decides to help him out. This concept is so wonderful, and the characterisation is blindingly clear. Keeps you guessing at the backstory!

Across the Universe, by Queen_Mab; one-shot. SUCH a great set of adventures. The multiverse really tries to hammer in its lessons sometimes, whether they stand a chance of sticking or not. Extremely well-written and fun, I devoured every word ravenously. Some scenes of Ford's portal time, with some VERY interesting encounters.

Star Wars

Anything Brighter than Even the Sun, by @hamliet / Hamliet; complete multichapter. The Rogue One crew survives and continues rebelling, as does Galen! The main focus is on Jyn and Cassian's characters and relationship, and how they navigate growing into a family. I love Jyn's character especially in this, with all those hard edges guarding a deep, deep well of passion.

Chirality, by @niobiumao3 / Niobium; complete multichapter. A Tech was CX-2 fic! It's great to see this fan theory explored, and Niobium writes so well! The plot is entrancing and has you hooked on the edge of your seat waiting for all the pieces to fall into place for our poor brainwashed guy. The way CX-2 thinks and melds with the personality of who Tech once was is beautiful and his interactions with his family and Phee are a sight to behold.

Crash Landing by @returnofahsoka / delightwrites; complete multichapter. Another Tech is CX-2 fic, can you tell this idea has a hold of me. The characters' voices in this come through SO clearly, it's insane, and the writing style is perfection. Jumbled and pained and confused and grieving, all threaded through with that little bit of hope. Wonderful.

I'll Keep You Safe (You Keep Me Strong), by @miadeardn / sheikahs; oneshot. An AU where Crosshair's chip never activates and he is as embroiled in adjusting to being on the run with a new little sister as the rest of the Batch. Just a sweet little moment between the two. Both of them are written very in-character, and it's great seeing a side of Crosshair that never came to regard his brothers as his enemies.

Talking in Defence, by @buskuta / buskuta; oneshot. An awesome look at all of Hunter's complicated feelings regarding Omega and Crosshair's relationship post-Tantiss. He's not a paragon of perfection, he's human. I can't emphasise enough how much I love this and how well he's written here.

Unyielding, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. The scene immediately post-reunion between Omega, Hunter, and Wrecker, with some speculation on Crosshair's internal strife at that moment. There's a chapter for each of the remaining Batch and Wrecker's is EXCEEDINGLY well-written in my opinion. We don't get nearly enough exploration in canon or fanon about the depth of his thoughts and feelings.

Plan 100, by Face_of_Poe; complete multichapter. An awesome canon-divergence speculating on Omega and Crosshair's escape from Tantiss. The action is great, the strategy and coded communication is so sharp, and the feeling of desperation as Omega and Crosshair fight to evade recapture is fantastically taut. I especially love the small moments in this showing just how close these two have grown, and, in Crosshair's case, how little he's realised it happening. It feels very true to their characters.

Through Darkness Unknown, by @stardustandash / StardustAndAsh; complete multichapter. Holy shit the stakes are so high in this. A Tech Lives canon divergence of Omega and Crosshair's stay in Tantiss, and you can really FEEL just how helpless they all are to Hemlock's control. I absolutely love how this fic does not pull its punches, really forcing Crosshair and Omega into relying heavily on each other. There's so many great scenes in this that are seared into my brain!!

Ask Yourself, by StoneSage; complete multichapter. Omega is captured by the Empire while Crosshair's still working for them. I freaking love the complicated messiness of Crosshair's response to this- he's constantly challenged to act on the callous persona he projects, and constantly comes up short realising what he's actually willing to do to his family when it comes down to it. Very true to his character, and the quandaries Rampart presents him with a subtly terrifying. A fantastic examination of character and a great plot to go with it.

The Space in Between, by Misvet; incomplete multichapter. A series of stories focusing on the complications and dangers involved with Omega joining the Bad Batch. The writing style is great, the plots are great, the characters are great! It's all great! Just read it!

Maybe Fate Has Different Plans, by hanged_albatross; complete series. God I love this so much. Some incredibly touching and well-written moments of the Bad Batch protecting each other in a dangerous galaxy, with Omega, of course, at the centre. She is characterised so well in this, and constantly written with the idea of despite being so young, she is also no less protective of her brothers than they are of her.

Modern Batch, by kaydear; incomplete series. DUUUUDES just read this. It's such a sweet collection of stories about an alternate universe of the Bad Batch in a contemporary setting. Life is tough and complicated and full of pain, but also there are others right beside you to lean on when you need it, and so life is also full of love. I have cried multiple times while reading and re-reading this.

Skulduggery Pleasant

I Will Lay Me Down, by mcginnis; oneshot. This is perfection. A rewrite of the aftermath of the Lord Vile reveal in Death Bringer. I wish this was canon. Valkyrie and Skulduggery are PERFECTLY characterised in this scene, and the nitty-gritty of how they're both feeling is thoroughly explored and explained, and the tone of the story never once diverges from canon's- it is complicated, dark, and interspersed with ridiculous levity.

Pride and Prejudice

A New Addition, by @ralkana / Ralkana; oneshot. A great fic about Elizabeth and Darcy and childbirth, various moments in this are imprinted in my mind permanently. High emotions all over the place, incredible tension and wonderful dynamics between the two main characters and the rest of the family.

Mr Bennet Travels Through Time, by AMarguerite; oneshot. A truly great fic with a wild concept that totally works. Mr Bennet is actually from the 1990s. Weird and funny, but also touching and sad, and goes leagues towards explaining a lot of this man's quirks and contradictions. I was fully invested in this all the way through reading, and it did not disappoint. Utterly satisfying.

Once Upon a Time

The Worst, by @alchemistc / alchemistique; oneshot. The real-life dynamics of these ridiculous fairytale people had me grinning ear to ear. The mortifying ordeal of your family of fictitious characters helping you move into your college dorm as told from Henry's perspective. Love it to death.

[aziraphales-library]

Any recommendations of fics where Crowley and Aziraphale are roommates/neighbours?

Here are some housemates and neighbours fics that I've read and loved...

Safe In Your Arms by AppleSeeds (T)

After moving out of his flat following a fire, Aziraphale moves in with Crowley, who turns out to be very lovely and seems determined to do anything he can to comfort Aziraphale when he finds out about the nightmares he's been having.

What Aziraphale Wants by mozbee (G)

“You could shower at my place, if you like,” Aziraphale says. He’s a step out of the lift before he realizes what he said. He quickly laughs, turning to face Crowley, to dismiss it as fast as it had come out, and sees he’s being stared at. “You mean that?” Crowley asks, an arm out to keep the lift doors from closing. Aziraphale fights off the threatening blush. It won’t do to have Crowley know he’s practically foaming at the mouth to have him spend more time with him. Because Crowley is his friend, his confidante. He can tell him anything. Except Crowley is also devastatingly handsome. --- Aziraphale is just being neighbourly, inviting Crowley over to use his shower while his bathroom is being remodelled. It has nothing to do with the pounding lust that fills him when he thinks of Crowley nude in his home. He's just being nice. Now if these pesky feelings would leave him alone...

Good Neighbours, Good Fences (and Other Misunderstandings) by out_there (E)

The first time Crowley meets his downstairs neighbour, Aziraphale is breaking into his flat. He's not what Crowley imagined in a burglar -- he's fussy, old-fashioned, and surprisingly adorable. Crowley is intrigued, Aziraphale is ready to share a good wine... and possibly more.

District of (un-)Certainty by jamgrl (M)

Aziraphale is a PhD student who needs a roommate so he can continue to afford his house in the U.S. capital of Washington D.C. Luckily, the family he tutors for on the side just happened to find him one! He doesn’t think he will like him much since he is in the states to work on Mr. Dowling’s senate campaign, so he’s probably a terrible person (even if he is good looking). Crowley is pretty independent and doesn’t really have a lot of what you would call “friends”. But he doesn’t mind his new roommate. He would much rather hang out with him than his coworkers, anyways. His roommate’s best friends Anathema and Newt aren’t too bad, either. It’s nice to have some friends. Maybe he likes it in D.C. --- They are millenials! But still British and still old fashioned- just a little twist on our favorite husbands.

Between Comfort And Chaos by anathxmadevice (T)

“And how long have you two been a couple?” “Oh, I—” Aziraphale panics. “Ha, well, that’s a funny… We’re not actually—” “We’re just friends.” Crowley says, their voice clear and calm and lightly amused, either because of or in spite of Aziraphale’s flailing attempts to divert the conversation. “Ah, yes, quite.” Aziraphale says, then takes a sip of his drink just for something to do, instead of focussing on the way Crowley said just friends, and how it causes a painful throb in his chest that he has never fully got used to. His memory can only scrabble at the edge of a time where being just friends with Crowley didn’t feel like a particular form of torture. * Or, Aziraphale has been desperately in love with his best friend and housemate Crowley since they were students, but is too scared to do anything about it.

Won't You be My Neighbor? by ProblematicPitch, Spiro (T)

When Mr. A. Z. Fell moves to the quiet English village of Tadfield, he expects nosy neighbors and inquiries into his eccentric, solitary life. What he doesn't anticipate is Anthony J. Crowley, the surly nuisance / next-door-neighbor, who might very well need a friend as much as he does.

And I'll just drop a quick link to the popular and oft-recommended Or Be Nice, because I know someone will mention it if I don't.

- Mod D

[wosemi-sama]

and the crowd went mild 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 also no chara dividers im lazy rn

these r so short id add more but im rushing rn sorry lmfao 😭😭😭

intended lowercase!

misc. obm hcs

LUCIFER

wakes up at the ass crack of dawn every single morning.

wears those old man pjs. with the long hat and fuzzy slippers and gown. you know the one.

most bitter coffee you've ever had in your life how he can drink it is astonishing.

his bed, his mattress, his pillows are all as hard as rock how does this man SLEEP.

sleeps like hes the corpse at the funeral hes that one image

MAMMON

will pull you into a headlock and call it a hug.

LEVIATHAN

guy who had mountain dew and cheeto dust in his veins instead of blood. guy who marinates in his room for two months straight. guy who- (i am immediately shot dead).

did a collab with the anti-lucifer league to create a 100k words dialuci fic to piss off lucifer (dont worry about him he got paid in anime and tsl merch).

TRULY believes he is the #1 tsl fan. and also #1 ruri fan.

wimp who VOLUNTARILY makes you cosplays if you are a cosplayer or even if you aren't. it will happen.

vtuber fan. he was like "hey i wanna be a streamer but i dont wanna show my face but i also want to be an anime boy! wait-" and now hes a vtuber.

has accidentally referred to all of his brothers as "chat" at least once. hes never recovering from that btw.

SATAN

cannot stop annotating books he reads for the life of him.

all of his books are just filled to the brim with sticky notes because all he does is annotate.

once he has a crush he will start imagining him and them in the same scenarios as the characters in romance novels he read. (loser alert!!)

sneaking a new cat into hol like once a week (he never succeeds btw).

ASMODEUS

oh boy his room REEKS of perfume and body spray.

"i sprayed my new perfume in every nook and cranny! smells so floral and elegant, don't you think?" (it smells like a bath and body works threw up.)

surprisingly plays the trumpet and BOY is he loud. bro is absolutely blasting those notes.

worst driver ever btw.

BEELZEBUB

freckles all over!! like a lot. *im not beating the insane allegations*

ate like 27 family size dorito bags, 30 dollars worth of taco bell, and four sprites in one sitting and he still hasnt recovered.

sleeps. like a lot. not as much as belphie but enough to be considered an eepy guy.

BELPHEGOR

will randomly grab every blanket and pillow he can get his hands on and make a nest in the common room if he's up to it. and then have everyone make a dog pile in it just so they can hang out and be silly.

will NOT clean it up afterwards. lucifer will tell him to and his only response will be "im tired..."

freckles like beel too i think theyre silly.

9829364 cow plushies. (theyre all from lucifer)

SOLOMON

will randomly gaslight people for no reason

"hey did you do the homework"

homework? what homework? there was homework? my, what even is homework? never heard of that.

"hey, i heard of this animal from the human world called a giraffe! can i see a picture?"

what? what's a giraffe? oh, those!! yeah, they're just myths. they're not real. purely fiction!!

yk that one post about tumblr funnyman solomon. he is a tumblr funnyman to me. he confidently posts his exploded spaghetti and gets 10k notes i think.

SIMEON

has a book club with satan and solomon. :)

probably writes oneshots of the brothers on tumblr idfk man (sorry to the simeon fans i write like nothing on this guy bro).

LUKE

bodily six ("but didnt the devs say hes ten?" shut up. /j)

along with that, also shorter than in canon. (since hes. yk. a first grader. that BOY is not five foot hes one sauce packet long dude.)

favorite store in the human world is walmart. i like to think his human world outfit is all exclusively from walmart bc thats funny i think.

DIAVOLO

hands of STEEL. he tries to grab your wrist and he nearly crushes it by accident.

ice cream!! he loves it :) his favorite is strawberry btw.

also this boy is NOT a himbo hes a smart man.

needs like a hug and some sleep and also a friend this boy works too much!!

BARBATOS

short. like really short. especially according to devildom standards since most demons are super tall.

"but isn't he six feet?" not in my heart.

somehow always making tea for some reason?? if he's not making tea then he's making pastries.

my boy does not SLEEP. hasn't slept since the sun has been birthed and doesn't plan on ever doing it.

[unadulteratedkr]

~Let's talk about credit~

(not financial credit trust me you don't want to take financial advice from me lol)

No, today I am inviting y'all to the table to talk about the importance of crediting other creators in fandom!

Because, listen. We don't have a peer-review system. We don't have to submit our stuff to a plagiarism checker or go through stringent editing when shitposting on tumblr; we operate in an honor system of crafting folklore using our favorite blorbos, and that means that inspiration and using the specific words and images from canon creates a grey area on what ought to be credited, and how to do it in a way that creates a solid, strong community.

Here's a little of my philosophy and how I give proper credit where it's due, so I figured I'd share them to hopefully encourage others in making sure no one out there ends up becoming fandom's James Somerton

1. Links are your friends, use them enthusiastically

Drooled over a gifset that made you write a poem? Read a fic that made you pull out your embroidery hoop? Saw some art that made you write a song? Link to the original! Tag the original artist, hyperlink to the giffer, share the fic via the amazing shortcut button on Ao3, it's what those creators deserve! Even if it's a shitpost, that creator is where your idea started, and it's the right thing to do to share directly where your audience can connect with the person who inspired you.

This holds INFINITELY true if you are directly quoting someone. If you've used someone else's words to create your own work, link back to the original. No one wants to be sent a fic or a funny post on tumblr and then feel the sinking pit in their stomach when they realize that post is their own words with someone else's name on them.

2. Ask for permission when you can

Now, the reason I threw the addendum on this with "when you can" is because knowing when to ask for permission is more of an art versus a science. I myself have written more than one fic inspired by art where I didn't reach out to the artist before I shared the fic because I had no contact with them (the joys of me refusing to touch the garbage that is the bird site). BUT this is why point number one is to always link back to the original inspiration, because I believe that should always be the bare minimum.

THAT BEING SAID.

If you have a way of contacting the original fellow fandom person who inspired you? Reach out and ask them if they'd feel comfortable with you creating something! 999 times out of 1000, they're gonna be over the MOON you want to create something inspired by what they made, and they'll be really fucking pleased you reached out to check.

3. Ask yourself: is this a "two cakes" situation or am I putting my name on someone else's cake?

This is another one that can absolutely fall into a bit of a grey area. I have written many a fic that started out with me reading a take or a fic that went in a WILDLY different direction from what I was expecting or wanted, and I went "okay, fuck it. I'll write my own." And that's absolutely been a great motivator for me to start a project!

HOWEVER.

That is me creating a different flavor of cake, putting my own frosting on it, and probably adding something weird like lemon zest and instant coffee for a lemonade cappucino chiffon that shouldn't work (but definitely does, trust me)

If I were to have read a fic or a take and then gone, "Oh, yeah, definintely, here's the same idea but now I've rephrased it juuust a little and now it's under MY username on my blog".... that's slapping a different color of frosting on the same cake and claiming it's mine. If you find yourself doing that, I really invite you to pause and consider why you felt the need to do so instead of sharing the original post.

Like, not to bring Shakespeare into it (they say, poorly concealing their icon), but fandom can be exactly like how Juliet views love. Sharing joy in what others have created absolutely can be as "boundless as the sea [...] the more I give [...], the more I have, for both are infinite". It does not take away from the joy your fellow fandom friends will have in your own original work to share the work of others.

4. Hyping up your inspiration is FUN

Finally, this is more of me going "no really, proper credit isn't going to mean people love YOU less" because I truly believe in the power of how much FUN it really is to give credit where it's due. I was buzzing for WEEKS in anticipation of publishing Objection! and The 'I Duoy' Newlywed Special because the marvelous @jackuntiljune had brainstromed with me on the name for the boat my boys eloped on. And I get so fucking giddy when I see someone comment on those fics about the name of the boat because I get to take a giant breath and go "MY FRIEND JACK CAME UP WITH IT, AREN'T THEY AMAZING?!"

If you practice giving credit where it's due, I promise promise PROMISE it will become a joy. It's FUN getting to bring more people into the sandbox to play, and I know I love it when there's more than one person out there I can yell at (affectionate) when I've been emotionally destroyed (again, affectionate) by a gifset or art or fic <3

Thanks so much for reading this far! I can't wait to keep sharing inspiration with all of you out there

[woahtherebuckerino]

Fic Recs: Linked Universe

these are seven fics i have read recently and adore... lu has put me in a chokehold out of nowhere but you know we roll (all of the following are on ao3)

that's all it is by rosetintedtears

Sky tilts his head, a beat passing between them as he absorbs the words. Slowly, he signs, ‘I think I know why I’m here,’ and then he uses Time’s namesign: like the sign for ‘minute’, but with a ticked ‘t’ instead of a raised pointer finger. ‘Time, it’s not your fault. The heroes, me, everything. It’s mine.’ - - - or: in a forgotten temple, Time meets a ghost.

when i say how many times i have read this fic is innumerable. honestly one of my favourite lu fics ever bc i absolutely love how time and sky are written. it is bittersweet and hopeful and i am probably going to read it again now.

Fairies Against Bottles by theScrap_Witch

“I’m sorry,” said Legend, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, “but what do you mean the fairies are going on strike?” “They’re angry,” said Hyrule, not sure what part of that Legend wasn’t understanding. Did he not think fairies had emotions? Did he not believe in fairy equality? “They don’t like how you all have been treating them and won’t heal any of us until it changes.”

this one is so funny,, i love the idea of warriors paying fairies for their work in the war, and hyrule is so real for joining the fairies on their strike. incredibly light-hearted and amazing

The Shape of The World by VEcuzimlazy

Legend and Wind get into a rare argument (Which is cover for their not so rare gambling). In order to settle a bet, Legend turns to the rest of the chain and starts asking some simple questions. Questions that the other Links have never considered before. As the hero's slowly descend into a reasonable amount of chaos, Sky decides to make everything worse... on purpose. Or How many Links believe in the Flat Earth Theory?

i had never considered this before reading this fic... in their heart of hearts they are flat earthers and they are so funny about it. sky is peak menace energy here and i love it

new material by schrodingers__cat

“Play it for Epona, and she’ll come right to you.” “I don’t need your horse, I have a bird.” “You love my horse.” “You love my bird.” They both nod at each other in solidarity. (In which Twilight does his job, waxes poetic about the scenery, and teaches Sky a new song.)

sky and twilight interaction the beloved. they are so sweet and this fic is so lovely - something something the cyclical nature of time itself

Brothers At Heart by RiverNight

Having only recently met, Sky doesn't know much about his fellow heroes Time, Twilight, and Warriors yet. They work towards a common goal, pursuing reports of unusual monster behavior around a small town. Each of them is experienced, but like most of them, Sky is unused to acting as a team. An unexpected ambush at night puts the tentative trust the heroes build to the test.

this fic is simply so good. i really like fics set early into the chain's meeting, and this one shows exactly why i like them! they are bonding and learning to care about each other and it is great

A Land Called Hope by FactorialRabbits

Be silent, be still. Do not engage, do not wander. Stay close, and listen to me. If you get into trouble, do not shout. If you see another person, do not speak to them unless I do first. Keep your weapon in hand. Sneak or die. If you get into a fight, do not scream. Stay close enough to hear if someone is knocked out; if we attract attention yelling, we are all dead. Light no fires, leave no traces, and above all else do not bleed. ~Hyrule, scene 1 paragraph 3. (Alternate summary: Time meets the fairies of Hyrule's time in less than ideal circumstances, and more of them than he thinks.)

this one hurts right in the heart. the way the fairies are portrayed here, and the relationship they have with hyrule, is so well done and i especially love the differing views held about hyrule's era amongst the chain - it all felt very real

Even Hylia's Chosen Need A Little Love by FlamingIdiot

Sky is not particularly close with any of the heroes, and none enough to feel free to express himself properly too, or so he thinks. Still, when emotions are running high and he's at the end of his rope, he's surprised to find one of his brothers ready with open arms, and of course it's the one person nobody else believes is capable of it. Or Five times Sky got a hug from Legend and one time where he gets to initiate it.

god i love sky&legend fics, and this one is amazing bc of how the both of them are portrayed. sky is a little more bitter and legend being the one to reach out hurts. yet another fic i have reread a few times now

[stxrvel]

the outbreak pt. 2

summary: you've kinda been into therapy and turns out it worked?

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4k

warnings: nothing really, i think. this is actually kinda fluffly. i was in a good mood.

note: i didn't planned on publishing the second part so soon, but i had a lot of free time and a mind running wild. still didn't liked that much how this chapter turned out tho. hoping i could make another part to see what happened to my girl wanda! see you guys in the next fic, love yall. the feedback is always appreciated! thank u for reading.

(if a part 3 never appears, just know this is an open ending)

part 1, extra: 1.5

“So, how've you been doing these past few weeks?”

“You don't have to make small talk to me, Natasha. I enjoy the silence.”

“I ask genuinely. I barely even see you in the halls of the Complex. We only really talk on missions and we've had three since that happened.”

“Don't worry about me.”

“I just want to know how you're doing.”

You turned your head to look at the woman sitting next to you. The uncomfortable leather chair you two were in did nothing to appease the constant headache you'd been having these past few days. Natasha watched you with an arched eyebrow and her hands in her lap. You knew she was right, everyone was always right when it came to you. Apparently Bucky was right when he said everyone knew but you, and that spectrum extended to everyone always seemed to know how you were doing if only by the movement of your eyelids.

That's why you had begun to avoid people.

You spent more time in your room and in the Complex gym, doing research assignments for Fury that involved leaving the building, the three missions with Natasha (fully mandatory and against your will) and sometimes in the lab with Bruce when he needed someone to hold his canisters full of chemical liquids.

Fury and Bruce were the only people you tolerated lately. No funny looks, no awkward questions, no innuendo; just what they needed and goodbye.

But, that time, you did have to go out with Natasha. You weren't given the option to come on your own and it was understandable. A little bit. Even though you were trying to make amends for what you had done, not only on the mission a few months ago but also for what you had done to yourself for years, you didn't know that recovery meant you had to have a watcher on you at all times.

And what's worse, that watchman came with a bird.

“I'm fine, Nat,” you replied to her liking finally.

A short laugh from across the room caught your attention.

“Tell that to the tantrum you threw Fury so we wouldn't come with you.”

You gave Clint Barton a hard look, almost lying on the other longer couch as if he were admiring the earth from a cloud. He had one arm over his eyes which he had raised slightly to give you a mocking look, and one leg bent so that his foot was on the couch.

“I didn't throw a tantrum.”

“Fury, please, I know how to take care of myself. I don't need two bodyguards behind me all day. I'm fully capable of getting there and back on my own.”

Clint's poor imitation of your voice caused you an undercurrent of irritation, but you easily made the decision not to let it come out against him. It turns out that sometimes you could just shut up instead of exploding against others, crazy, right?

“First, I don't talk like that.”

“That's right. Lousy imitation, Clint,” Natasha had your back.

“Second, I only asked him once to let me come alone. I didn't beg him like a fool.”

“Sam told me otherwise,” Clint countered and you frowned. You felt the smile on his mouth.

“Sam's an idiot.”

“Sam's on Bucky's side,” Natasha mused.

And then, an awkward silence.

That was something you hated and still couldn't get used to. When people would say Bucky's name around you, the atmosphere would get strangely tense and suddenly everyone would go silent. It felt strange at first, but when Wanda did it you understood what was going on.

“Stop doing that,” you grumbled with a grimace. “I'm not fucking marble. I'm not going to crack from hearing his name.”

“We didn't say anything,” Natasha spoke again, her innocent little dove expression getting on your nerves.

Count to ten, Y/N, don't forget…

“You guys always go silent after you say his name like he's going to spontaneously explode. We're adults, you know? There are things to get over.”

“Wow,” you heard Clint mutter.

“Shut up, bird.”

Clint made a negative, game-like sound when you gave an incorrect answer.

“Three points off. Natasha and Clint are in the lead,” the man snorted as he rose from his position on the couch. You couldn't do more than give him another look, waiting for him to evaporate into thin air.

Natasha stirred next to you looking around at her surroundings, the dark colors of the room almost absorbing all the natural light coming through the few windows that were in the building.

“You haven't talked to him yet?”

“No.”

“Do you plan to?”

“I don't know. Maybe not.”

“Why?” Clint inquired, suddenly more interested in the subject.

“Because I don't feel like I give a s-”

Clint made the sound again.

“Two points off.”

“Clint,” Natasha reproached him with her tone of voice and the aforementioned only flashed her a smile. “It's been several weeks since you were last together. And you've had a lot of improvement-”

“That's debatable.”

“… don't you feel ready to talk to him?” Natasha questioned, completely ignoring Clint's intrusion into the conversation, again.

“I really don't know,” you admitted. “She told me I'm on the right track too, but just the thought of seeing him again after all those things he said… that I said…”

You sighed. Your gaze focused on the dark floor, a bluish-green hidden behind a black carpet with red, the most horrible carpet you had ever seen in your life.

“It scares me. I don't think I can do it.”

The woman let out an affirmative sound from her throat and the room became silent once again.

You almost let your mind begin to wander into memories, conjuring up the times when you felt like you were on top of the world when you were really about to hit rock bottom. But you quickly focused on where you were and what you were going to do there.

You were going to pick up Wanda. You had wanted to do it alone because it had been several weeks since you had last seen her. The last thing you told her was that you were going on another mission with Bucky and that you hoped it wouldn't end as badly as the argument you had that half the building heard. After that, she left.

She had made the decision to come and talk to Stephen Strange and had told you a few days before you left on what would be your last (official) field mission. She left the Complex the day after you left and all you had heard from her since then was that she was fine, that Strange hadn't locked her in a dungeon and that she was learning many things about her magic, especially how to control it to have power in things like her dreams. You still didn't know what those lucid dreams she had been having for a while had been due to, but judging from the letter you had received yesterday where she asked you to go to the Sanctum Sanctorum, it looked like she had gotten some kind of response.

When you told Fury what you were going to do, he didn't hesitate for a second to say that he would ask the Wonder Duo to accompany you. Clearly you balked, not as many times as Sam and Clint implied, but you didn't expose any more complaints to the Director's authoritative voice.

So, there you three were. Waiting for the wizards to appear from somewhere as you waited in one of the most horribly decorated rooms you'd ever seen.

“Sorry for the delay.”

The new male voice that echoed in the room startled you. You cringed and turned your head every which way until you came upon Strange's figure standing at the entrance to the room, not far from where you three were standing. Natasha and Clint remained unperturbed and you suppressed your desire to complain about the intrusion. You were the only one who hadn't heard him coming, apparently.

“Y/N!” you heard Wanda's voice.

You shot up from the uncomfortable couch the moment you saw her emerge from behind Strange's body. Quickly, you met halfway and melted into a big hug. You shifted from side to side trying to keep your strength and tears held back because of how much you had missed her.

“You look great!” was what she said to you the moment you parted.

“Don't lie to her, Wanda,” Clint exclaimed, and shortly you heard Natasha hiss in his direction.

“I've had better days.”

“I can't believe the day is here already! You have to tell me everything. What happened on the mission? What happened with Bucky?”

Again, the unpleasant silence.

“Why are you two making those faces?”

Wanda was watching the Wonder Duo right behind you and you couldn't help but let out a big exhale.

You turned to look at the only person who really gave a damn about your life.

“Thanks for everything, Strange.”

The man nodded in your direction. “It was my pleasure. Hopefully everything will be better from now on.”

Wanda waved goodbye to him as you turned around and pointed the other two people in the room toward the exit.

The other goodbyes were short and you were soon finding yourselves exiting through one of the portals opened by Strange, where you met the entrance to the Complex head on.

“Ah, magic. It makes life so much simpler,” Clint commented before starting to walk in the direction of the common room.

Natasha had the decency to bid you farewell and followed the bird's path at a tight pace.

“I thought they were going to join us,” Wanda mused, watching their figures walk away.

“No, they were just my nannies.”

“Nannies?” you saw her frown.

You watched the grimace on her face and almost have the urge to ask Sam to come give her a rundown of what had happened in the last few weeks since that last mission, but you mentally pulled back and offered a small smile to the confused woman in front of you.

“We have a lot to talk about.”

---

“Have you eaten today?”

The haze that clouded your mind slowly disappeared, your head barely registering the movements your body made to stay conscious. The soles of your shoes were too hard for your liking and you'd had to go sit down while you waited for Wanda to return. You didn't know how long it had been since that, but it seemed to be long enough for Steve Rogers to approach the cafeteria table where you were sitting with a tray containing the day's food.

“You look like you could use some of this.”

The blond gently pushed the tray until it was on your side of the table, and the smell of beef stew didn't take long to reach your lungs. It smelled good, to be honest. You looked down at the food and moved your hands to grab the silverware.

“Thank you.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm just waiting for Wanda. She went to talk to Fury.”

“I saw her coming in. She said she had a lot of things to tell.”

“She told me exactly the same thing.”

“And did you get to talk about anything before she left?”

You glanced at the fork in your left hand before looking up and meeting Steve's unconcerned face. You had learned very quickly that it wasn't too hard to get to know the captain in your position as opposed to how unreachable he looked to the rest of the population. He was a rough and tough man, but he would do things like bring lunch to a female shipmate who had a blank stare and sit down and try to chat with her.

He was good. Steve was good.

But he wasn't sneaky.

“If you want to know the verdict, talk to Strange. He's a close friend of Tony's.”

The man only sighed, his shoulders slumping in time with his breathing as if he'd been in alert mode all day.

“I didn't mean to sound so…. opportunistic.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You didn't sound opportunistic, Steve, you're just bad at trying to hide your curiosity,” you expressed with a small smile, but the man didn't look convinced by your words. “She's fine. She looks fine. She sounds fine. Whatever they had done, talked about or practiced, it surely paid off. I don't think you have anything to worry about.”

“She looked really scared before she left. You didn't see her. She asked me several times to communicate with you because she didn't know if it was a good idea to do that anymore.”

“She asked you that?”

“Yes. But the mission was very delicate, we couldn't risk it.”

You nodded in your direction, your gaze wandering back over the food.

“I just want her to be okay,” Steve mumbled and you almost missed the way his face contracted. His blue eyes found yours. “She's been through too much throughout her life and now this. It's like a joke of the universe.”

“She'll be fine. She has us. If she needs strength, she'll have plenty.”

Steve smiled, and then you took your first bite of beef stew.

You grimaced.

The blond frowned.

“Was the smell better than the taste, again?”

You nodded with your mouth full. Your hands went to the glass of water in the corner of the tray and you didn't hesitate to down the meat with all the liquid in it. You were almost never lucky enough to taste good lunches in that cafeteria.

“FRIDAY,” you heard Steve say.

“Yes, Captain.”

“Can you order a 12-inch tuna Subway on whole wheat bread with all the vegetables except the bell peppers and olives, please.”

“Right away, Captain.”

“That wasn't necessary,” you turned to the man as his gaze focused on yours.

“You can't go without eating.”

“I would have been able to place the order.”

“Mmm, really?”

“Of course! Do you think I waste the opportunity to spend Tony's money every chance I get? Even, I would have ordered more.”

“Oh, seriously?” Steve had a mischievous grin on his face and you furrowed your brow at his strange expression. “FRIDAY, make it three.”

You half-opened your lips.

“Sure thing, Captain.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“What's with the attitude? It's Tony's money, isn't it?”

You hadn't heard that kind of boldness from Steve very often, and when it happened it was a complete event to witness. The man was a stickler, everyone knew him that way. He didn't understand the word rest and most of his free moments were only used to keep reconsidering attack strategies. Steve wasn't one to let loose and go with the flow very often, but when he did it was something to be enjoyed.

“You know he doesn't mind, right?”

And the moment was over.

“No? I thought he still hated me from lying to him about the book.”

“Uhm…” Steve fumbled over his words and you were amused at the way his features scrunched up. “He doesn't hate you. He was just angry. Besides, it's been a long time, he probably doesn't even remember that.”

“I think he's going to remember that until he dies.”

“Steve.”

You froze in place.

Abort mission. Abort mission. 911. Mayday, mayday, mayday.

Steve looked over your shoulder and then back up at you, your eyes on the embroidery of his brown jacket. You tried to keep your expression composed and sent him a smile of assurance that even you couldn't believe. But you couldn't do anything else. You couldn't break down at that moment. Besides, he would most likely ask the blonde to come with him and Steve would go. You wouldn't really have to deal with anything.

“He's really coming,” you heard Steve mutter in your direction.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, and you watched his expression of poorly disguised panic. You had told Steve only once, days ago, that you weren't ready to talk to Bucky at all. And, apparently, he had made it his problem too.

“Are you busy?”

You heard Bucky so close that a shiver ran through your body. It had been weeks since you'd last heard his voice. On that mission.

“No, I was just talking to-”

“Captain.”

But what was this, the all-call-Steve-at-once festival?

You sank back in your seat when you recognized the Director's voice. If he was there, it meant Wanda must be coming with him, and judging by the contractions in Steve's face, going from confused to incredulous to dumbfounded to flushed, your friend was most likely waving him out of there.

“A word, please,” Fury spoke again, and Steve barely let a second pass before he sprung out of his chair like a spring. He gave you a look and you could almost see the apology written in his eyes.

“Buck, I'm sorry- I mean, wait here for me.”

“What?”

“I won't be late, I promise.”

“I can wait for you in the living room…”

“No,” Steve contradicted him sharply. You caught a glimpse of his stiff expression out of the corner of your eye. “Wait for me here, can you?”

You didn't hear an answer, but you guessed it was positive when you saw Steve's face a little more relaxed. He looked back at you and barely gave you a nod before he started walking toward the exit. You turned in your seat to see him, and barely caught a glimpse of Wanda's triumphant face before she hid behind the back of a naive Fury as she saw your gaze on hers.

That woman really had no idea…

The chair Steve was occupying shifted and Bucky appeared in your field of vision. He was looking anywhere in the cafeteria before he was looking at you. And well, that was good, it gave you time to analyze what you had missed in those weeks without any communication.

He clearly looked calmer. Even though you two were forcibly put in an uncomfortable situation, he didn't seem to mind too much. He looked a little tense, you could barely make out a twitch in his jaw, but other than that he was pretty relaxed.

You didn't know how to interpret that.

The last time you had thought about seeing Bucky again (which was that very morning when Natasha brought it up) you thought that one of you would run away without even a second's notice. It seemed that the only one too scared about that reunion was you. Surely Bucky hadn't thought about it for a single moment since the last time you were face to face.

And his hair. He had cut his hair much shorter than last time. Its ends were directed to the ceiling and you could no longer mess it up if you ran your hands through it. It would rearrange itself in seconds. His eyes were still the same, clear and bright as the clear sky, his expression just as stoic and unperturbed, his body leaning slightly to one side with his hands clasped in his lap. Almost everything about him remained the same except for his hair.

And except he couldn't look you in the eye.

You looked down where the tray with the stew was still intact. You didn't have anything else to distract you with so you grabbed a vegetable and popped it in your mouth.

Turning your head away, you missed Bucky's gaze on your face analyzing the grimace of disgust you were trying to hide.

You swallowed hard and grabbed the water bottle so that it almost slipped through your hands. It was empty.

You almost threw up on yourself.

“Are you okay?”

You met his gaze and froze. His wary eyes were on your face.

“Yeah.”

“Doesn't look like that food is good.”

“Because it isn't.”

You shook your head and pushed the tray away from your personal space once and for all.

“Why don't you order something else?”

“Steve already ordered me something.”

“Oh.”

And silence.

You usually enjoyed the quiet moments, when no sound flooded the surroundings other than your own breathing and the ramblings in your head. You could really enjoy your solitude and the quiet it brought with it. But this silence didn't come with solitude, it came with tension, strain, uncertainty.

You didn't know if you felt you should say something or if you felt you should run away. If you stayed you didn't know what to say to him and if you left you didn't know under what excuse.

Bucky's light eyes met yours again after wandering his gaze for a while around the room.

“Wanda's back,” was what he said.

You nodded.

“We came with her this morning.”

“Yes, Steve told me.”

“We don't have to do this, you know.”

His neutral expression turned chaotic for a moment. Then he went back to being unflappable as if nothing.

“We don't have to do what?”

“This. Talk like it's nothing. It's awkward.”

“Ah. You find it awkward?”

You furrowed your brow at his genuine curiosity. For a moment you thought he was being sarcastic, but his eyes detailed your expression intently, waiting for an answer.

“Don't you?”

“Why should I?”

“Can you stop answering with questions, please.”

Bucky averted his gaze. He repeatedly ran his hands over his jeans.

“I'm sorry. If it makes you uncomfortable I'll keep quiet.”

“Still, you don't answer my question.”

“It's not awkward for me,” he finally said, his slightly tilted head pointed in your direction. “It's just normal small talk. Between two people.”

You hummed a nod and your head moved in sync.

“It's easier for you to pretend nothing happened.”

Bucky shook his head, attentive. He narrowed his eyes and it didn't go unnoticed the way you tensed your shoulders as the words left your mouth.

“I never said that.”

“It's just what I can glimpse.”

“What you think you see is not true. I'm not trying to feign insanity.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you're an expert at knowing what I think,” the words left you before you could process them and give them the proper filter, and you were sure Bucky had noticed the way your composure wavered for barely a second. If he had, he chose to ignore it.

You saw him twist his lips and lower his gaze, as if he suddenly felt distressed even though he wasn't the one who should be worried about something like that.

“You're angry.”

“And why would I be, according to you?”

“Maybe you were expecting a different reaction from me. You don't like what I'm giving you.”

You let out a laugh. “I never thought arrogant was your type.”

Bucky took in your gesture and mimicked it. Seeing a smile on his face after so long brought back images you thought you had sent far out into the ocean of your mind. Maybe you didn't feel your heart racing as it had so many times before, but you definitely felt something different from the fear and dismay that normally accompanied his memory. Even though you didn't want to accept it, you couldn't help but stretch a little towards that new sensation.

“I was joking. I have no idea why you're mad.”

The small smile on your face disappeared, and you allowed your head to wander down the paths of self-healing and self-improvement. Perhaps it was situations like these that your therapist always referred to. Stealthy confrontations that you usually used to avoid like rain, were the perfect moments to divulge a kind of self-reflection and improvement. To, perhaps, make known the emotions and thoughts you used to suppress and keep to yourself, the reason you had ended up that way to begin with. That was supposed to be what people normally did, to talk about their feelings…

So you just let it out.

“I'm not angry. I think I feel… embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Bucky cocked his head to one side, his eyes scrutinizing your face as if trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.

“For confronting you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Bucky. Here's to having you face me and confirming once again that you were right,” you rolled your eyes and took the moment to look anywhere in the cafeteria but into the blue eyes that wouldn't leave yours. “You were always right, I guess. No one else stood up to me like you did and I still lied to you looking you in the eye, wouldn't you feel the same way?”

The movement he made as he shrugged his shoulders drew your gaze, and met you with such a frightening familiarity that you felt old memories and feelings creeping up from the back of your mind to return to the surface. His calm gaze and tension-free body was what you had always been used to, and at that moment it was what you were seeing.

You didn't know how much you missed him until you saw it again.

“It's possible, yes.”

“The point is, knowing that doesn't make it any less complicated. In fact, it's a little harder to cope with. Being aware of the embarrassment… makes you more embarrassed.”

Bucky let out a short laugh. Your gaze didn't leave the way his corners turned up and then how his shoulders moved and his chest contracted in sync with that laugh. You hadn't noticed until that moment the change in the atmosphere around the two of you, much lighter and cozier, not at all hostile and toxic compared to the last few times you were together after the argument.

Mmm, maybe you were liking all that stuff about therapy. To be honest, up until that point you had discerned very few results, although some were quite important. Like, for example, you were able to keep your mind clear of self-destructive thoughts for longer, or that you could look at your past actions and reflect on them, determining clearly what things you were doing wrong and why it was wrong to do them. And there were many, many of them. Not just with the people around you, but more so with yourself.

However, in that moment, having Bucky in front of you and having been able to not only carry on a conversation for more than a minute with him, but also having been able to admit to him how you had felt and show true regret for what happened, you were able to understand that the change was much bigger than you had initially sized it up to be.

“It's serious. It complicates the process for me. That's why I didn't want to see you.”

He nodded without wiping the smile off his face. You could sense the understanding emanating through his gaze and, by the way he straightened his body, you knew he was going to give voice to the thoughts going through his head. Bucky usually kept his opinion of people to himself, he wasn't one to go around highlighting qualities in others unless he was asked or it was necessary for him to say so. Because of this, you could learn to tell when he was going to keep quiet about it and when he was willing to let it all out.

“Still, if it makes you feel any better, I can see you've come too far. Six months ago you wouldn't have said that to my face. I probably would have heard it from Sam who heard it from Clint when he eavesdropped on some conversation of yours with Wanda.”

You were really glad about what he just said, but…. what the fuck?

“Clint eavesdrops on our conversations?”

Bucky went blank. His features froze and the tension emanating from his body enveloped you both.

“Well… I only heard it once. Clint had said he'd upgraded the device for his hearing and was hearing three times as many things as he should. Among those things, he could hear you talking to Wanda in the next room.”

“I don't believe it.”

“There's nothing to tell you for sure that he did it again.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Mmm, two years, I think.”

“Did he ever say anything to you?”

Bucky didn't answer for a few seconds, his gaze seemed lost in yours, with a solidity and strength too forceful for your tolerance. You suspected the answer was positive, but received the opposite.

“He only told me what had happened. He never told me if he understood anything he heard.”

“Uhm, you're good at getting out of tight spots.”

He gave you another one of those smiles that felt like home.

“I've had years to practice.”

The silence that followed his words was much more welcoming than before. You seemed to be able to move around the masses of air so freely that all the tension in your body could disappear in a gentle breeze.

“I'm sorry this was uncomfortable for you, but it was good to see you. And hearing you.”

“It wasn't that uncomfortable.”

“You're squeezing your legs under the table.”

You looked down, surprised, though you shouldn't be. Bucky had always been good at reading your body language. It was almost like it was his way of communicating. And yes, you were.

“You rocked from side to side. Your hands never stopped clenching in your lap. You were uncomfortable.”

“Still, I don't regret what I said.”

“I know.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

You had a duel of glances and you longed for that comfort you had been missing for so long. During those almost seven months of barely seeing him and not speaking to him, you had learned to appreciate the little moments in life. And you were surprised to think that before you thought you were living your life as you were doing at that moment, the present, but you were not. You learned the cruel difference between existing and living, and it wasn't hard for you to deduce why you had had such complicated moments in your life some time before.

You had never lived anything. You went through your life as a tourist and many times you weren't even in the picture. You tried so hard and constantly to convince yourself otherwise every day that it ended up tiring you out emotionally, and in the process taking everything out on the one person who tried to reach out to help you.

“Buck!” Steve's exclamation echoed throughout the cafeteria, just on time.

You turned to see him in the doorway, his raised hand gesturing for the man in front of you to follow him. Bucky stood up, but didn't leave before turning a glance at you with a warm smile worthy of summer.

“I hope to keep hearing from you more often.”

“We'll see if you're worth it.”

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

I think it's really funny that most of my issues w dp×dc fics would be immediately resolved if they were about Dan instead of Danny

(No hate to any fics that do these things btw I am just so so picky)

Jack and Maddie being awful irredeemable people? Not a risk if the fic is about Dan since he doesn't associate with them. If he did catch their ire (pre-agit) he probably genuinely did kill and replace Danny like some write the Fenton's believing

Ooc Danny who's too violent and fine with murder? That'd work wonderfully with Dan

I don't mind it but I don't care for ghost king Danny. However ghost king Dan honestly isn't that much of a leap considering he does canonically have Fright Knight working for him

-OP because he's ghost king Danny, Dan already canonically can make his own ghost portals, and could make himself appear on Valerie's watch and presumably other tech, and can duplicate, and electrocute, so on and so forth

Going to a Wayne Gala or whatever with Vlad? Works well with Danny but works incredibly well with Dan

Anyway basically what im saying here is I want to read Dan fics all the time

Bonuses, that I think are cool rather than being related to my grievances

Dan can look like his 14yr human and ghost self. And I still choose to believe he can look like his true self (as well as being able to appear as 24yr human Danny 🤔)

Honestly I don't think Dan would bother with a human identity unless forced. Maybe he needs to stay in it for an amount of time in order to stay grounded and not cease to exist bc his timeline is gone

If in the same dimension, Dan could easily know all the heroes identities, at least, know their real faces. He probably unmasked them after killing them just to see

I tend to imagine the JL w this one but Dan AND Danny being in DC is great too. I wonder how they'd explain the Dan situation. Dan could just say he's from an erased timeline. Or see how long he can convince others he's Danny's older brother or father or uncle or something

I think a plot could either be Dan just being a dramatic smug bastard OR Dan slowly learning how to heal and accept his emotions and let others in his life and become better for the people around him even if unintentionally. Or both. Especially both.Imagine.

[ritsufeet]

stay with me.

longing [ ft. m. kaiser ]

i don’t want u to leave… in which kaiser longs for you more than he thought he would.

k by cigarettes after sex heavily recommend to listen to while reading!!

all works from luvmouche & ritsufeet on tumblr.

𒁷 sfw, (forced to) made for ivelle (@n6gi)

𒁷 cw// hurt comfort(?), kaiser is too busy for u (dickhead), but it gets better i think, mutual longing, kissing smooch smooch, umm idk what else, kaiser tw🤓, “m” is his nickname given by the reader, rly short fic btw, slightly ooc kaiser but yk what idc!

i made this for ivelle this is literally yhe only bllk fic ill ever make (maybe) also i dont even like kaiser (kurona bwtter) i originally made this in my notes app i had to decide whether or not i eveb wanted to post this on tumblrHelp

synopsis: michael kaiser is a cruel, busy man—yet he finds himself pining for your warmth more than he expected.

not proofread!!!

kaiser, michael

your boyfriend, michael kaiser, who’s a famous, up and coming athlete, never has any time for you.

“i’m leaving, i have a meeting today.” he says, hurriedly pushing his shoes on with heavy sighs. you look at him and frown, “again? m, you never have any time for me anymore…”

“i know, but i’ll make it up to you, i promise. just not today, i’m busy.” he huffs, frowning right back at you, his blonde hair sways messily in front of his face and his fingers coming up to brush them up and out of the way again. you frown deepens and you sigh.

he looks up at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “what? what’s wrong with you?” his question only makes you sadder.

“can’t you stay?”

“no, i can’t. you know this. i said i’d make it up to you, didn’t i? trust my word.” you know this, you already know… but you can’t help but already begin to miss him.

he’s often gone for long hours, sometimes it’s more than just hours. it’s hard loving him when he’s absent majority of the time, and when he’s not gone, he’s doing something else that doesn’t involve spending time with you. what could be so important, anyway? of course, you love him, you love his career and support him with everything you can, but he could at least love you a little back.

you slowly walk over to him when he’s finished putting on his shoes. he looks at you with soft eyes, a face that he doesn’t show often. vulnerability that doesn’t come easily to him, something he only shows to you. “i’m sorry,” he says, his hand cupping your cheek. you relish in his touch, leaning into his palm. “i really wish i could stay too. you know that as well as i do.” he caresses your cheek, sliding his thumb over your skin.

“i get it… you should go, you don’t want to be late, right?” you look at him giving a reassuring smile. “i’ll be here, like i always am.” his heart aches as those words leave you, and the urge washes over him. he brings himself to your lips and kisses you—sweet, quick, and loving. he lets himself linger there for as long as he needs to. he doesn’t want to be late, yet he finds himself not wanting to move a single inch away from you. he wants to stay, wants to be here with you and the comfort of your kisses.

you pull away instead, you put your hand right above his—the one caressing your cheek so gently and longingly that you fear that it’d break his heart if he tore it away—and squeeze it. his face is solemn, his gaze wavering. he’s staring at you, but he looks away, as if hesitant to say anything. then, he looks at you again, and purses his lips. “..i love you.” your reassuring smile turns into a genuine one. “i love you too, m.”

he pulls you into a hug, holding you longer than just a few seconds, and he can hear himself the moment he decided to just go ‘ah, fuck it.’ a barely audible chuckle comes from his voice leaving you wondering what’s so funny.

“on second thought, i don’t think they’ll mind if i miss a day or two.” he says, smiling.

a/n: i hope ur happy ivelle. k bye im tired fuckkk

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Unpacking in the Infirmary

Fem!Reader

Summary: Restock day in the Infirmary has always been important for those who live in the Fortress. Especially with it being that place to go if something were to happen to an inmate or one of the staff members. With the amount of times Wriothesley has gotten hurt over the years, it's not surprising he ended up in there on one of those restock days. Though he didn't think he would also help with unpacking things as well.

Words: 3,039

AN: Once again I wrote a majority of this on my phone. I honestly can't believe how much I've written on my phone this year already. Hopefully, this doesn't become a major habit. Thank you @milkstore for reading over the fic. You caught so many mistakes due to my phone thinking capitalizing mid-sentence is a normal thing to do.

Warnings: Blood, Minor Injuries, Cleaning a wound. I personally wouldn't consider it too detailed but if you find any of that uncomfortable please go check out one of my other Wriothesley fics.

“You two should go take your lunch break already. I ate a late breakfast.” Y/N lifted a box of supplies from the surface and placed it on the table. Restock days had become important for her to be there for. It was easier to have someone who was not a Melusine to do any heavy lifting.

“You look tired. Are you sure you don't want to take a break now?” Sigewinne asked. Although her ask was more of telling her to take a break.

“I'll take a break when you or Ottnit get back. I promise.” She reassured Sigewinne. “Plus if we time breaks right we can get this done fast.”

Ottnit looked at Y/N before looking at Sigewinne. “She has a date.” She guessed.

Y/N rolled her eyes hiding a small smile. “Three days from now.” She answered before giving the real reason. “I promised I'd help my mother move her art studio into her new house after work.”

“It's more reason to take a break. You could have requested someone to take your place today.” Sigewinne reasoned.

“I know but I wouldn't have been able to give you those stickers for another week. It's been pretty peaceful down here lately. Let me have work as an excuse to see you two.” Y/N looked back to the box and grabbed a boxcutter to rid it of tape. “Just go enjoy lunch. You're just delaying how long till I take a break.”

Sigewinne accepted fate not wanting to argue it creating more of the delay. She and Ottnit left the infirmary for lunch. The room was left quiet while Y/N took inventory on the restock.

All the things that needed to be under a lock had been put away already. Next would be anything they kept out in the infirmary that should be easy to grab. Lastly, restocking the various first aid kits that were around the Fortress. Any mobile ones had been brought in already in the morning. The large stationary ones would be the last thing for today or one of the first things in the morning.

It was mindless work to her at this point. Open the box, check the inventory slip in the box, count to see if the amount matches, and mark off on the checkbox of what was requested if it matches. And if it didn’t, make a note. It was always easy to fall into the rhythm of this work.

Though a bit annoying that the monthly restock day had to line up with her mother's art studio move. There really wasn’t much she could do about it since she wanted to be there for both. Say she did request someone else to go down to the fortress instead of her. Y/N could imagine her coworkers on the surface asking if something was wrong with her and Wriothesley’s relationship. And as funny as it was to watch some of the older ladies try and make threats about if he dared hurt her, there really was no reason to rile them up with nothing.

Y/N finished up the box she had been working with. It was just bandages of different sizes. Luckily everything was all in there. She picked the box back up off the table and placed it within the pile of boxes that had already been checked. She picked up a new box, beginning to repeat the process all over again.

She lost count on the box filled with sterilized gloves when she heard the all-so-familiar knock at the wall. It was a firm but gentle knock that echoed throughout the infirmary.

“Hey.” Wriothesley introduced himself as he made his way down into the room. “By any chance is the hydrogen peroxide already out?”

“The current bottle doesn't have a lot in it but it is out. What happened?” Y/N turned away from the box and moved to get out what he asked for along with some cotton balls and bandages, opting for what was already out in the infirmary.

“There was a fight that broke out and I went to break it up. One guy was upset I was breaking up the fight, so he tried taking a knife out on me. I broke a knife. Now the guards got an eye on the two of them.” Wriothesley explained. He was peeling off the blood-soaked wraps that were around his right hand.

Y/N blinked. “You can't say you broke a knife so casually.” It was moments like that where she knew she still wasn't fully used to his behavior. It didn't matter how long she had known him before they began dating, it wasn't normal to hear anyone say they broke a knife in a fight. She moved into washing her hands.

“No, ‘Are you okay’?” He threw the wraps away in a bin that was meant for Anything that came in contact with any sort of bodily fluids. Also known as the bloody cotton and bandages bin to most of the Fortress. All because they were however many miles under the ocean didn't mean they got to skip important procedures to help keep things safe.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, I'm sorry.” She spoke sarcastically as she dried off her hands. “Your Grace, does your wound cause you great pain? Whatever will I do now that you are gravely injured?”

“Gravely! Shit. It's just some cuts on my palm. Where did you get ‘gravely’ from? It won't kill me.”

“Oh, so you can handle it yourself.” She teased as she pulled gloves on getting ready so she could examine the wound.

“Some nurse you are. I thought going to the infirmary was supposed to be welcoming.”

“That's what you get for asking a pharmacist to be a nurse. I'm nowhere near as welcoming.” She joked. “Go sit on the bed.” She moved fast grabbing a clean pair of tweezers.

“Already sitting down Miss.” He spoke in a smug tone she was all too familiar with.

“If you can recognize that you should already be sitting down I would hope you should recognize that you should be more careful.” She turned around and moved towards Wriothesley. Y/N grabbed his wounded hand. She began picking out any small shards of the knife that had gotten stuck within. Luckily not too many. None were deep within the palm as well.

“I can only try to be more careful so much. If you think about it, I helped you not have to deal with an inmate who had a stab wound on restock day. While everyone but you is out for lunch.” Wriothesley reasoned. He looked at the wound already wondering if the count of scars on his body was about to go up.

“I'll give you that.” Y/N finished up with the first part of cleaning up the wound. She had thrown any remnants of the knife in the trash. “You know you are very lucky that Sigewinne wasn’t here to fuss over you. If I had to listen to her ‘I helped raise you, the least you could do is be careful’ lectures while trying to count and move things around, I might go insane.”

Wriothesley rolled his eyes as he laughed. “Yeah.” He drew out the word with a bit of tiredness. “I guess I should thank you for not telling her.”

“Shit.” It was half a response from the hydrogen peroxide touching the new wound and half from what Y/N had said. He thought he was more used to the sting of his wounds being cleaned by now. “Can’t you just let this slide?”

Y/N raised her eyebrow as she began to dab the hydrogen peroxide onto some cotton balls. “I never said I wasn't going to tell her. If I remember right, which I know I'm remembering right, I still have to write this up in your medical file. No exception for staff. Even if you are the Warden, she’s going to find out regardless.”

“You created more work for me on restock day and think I’m gonna let this slide. After I’m done with this I get to go move a whole art studio.”

“Don’t I get special privileges?”

“Everyone with a title is gonna get the same treatment from me. You forget that?” The blood had been cleaned off his hand. And with the wound clean she could begin focusing on wrapping up the wound on his palm.

“I was going for boyfriend privileges.” Wriothesley continued to try and wiggle his way out of Sigewinne learning what happened.

“I am on the clock and not on break so no special treatment. You lost special treatment the moment you walked into the infirmary. If it's serious enough to seek medical care, it's serious enough to be written in your medical file.” 

“Usually I'm very glad that you take your job seriously.”

“Cause it's my job and it would be inappropriate to change procedures just because the patient is you.” Y/N finished wrapping up his palm leaving him plenty of room to move his hand around but keeping the bandages tight enough to stay on throughout the day. “Change the bandages 3 hours from now. You can either do it yourself or have Sigewinne do it for you.”

Wriothesley moved his fingers around testing how much movement he would have. “Thanks, doll. You sure I can't get you to change it instead?”

“I just said I have to go move an art studio later.” She began putting away anything unused that was okay to keep before throwing everything else out. “Or were you not paying attention to what I was saying?”

“I was. You know I could go and help you if you want.” Wriothesley offered. 

Y/N looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Art Studio. As in my mother's art studio.”

“Yeah. You managed to get a photo out of me and you've been saying that your mother wants to meet me. Every time you’ve tried to set up, something has always come up and if I go with you, then you won’t have to worry if I’m using my right hand or not.” He reasoned. It may have also been a bit of quick thinking to avoid disappointing Sigewinne over that he got hurt again. Two birds with one stone kind of thinking.

“But I was thinking like a dinner so we could all get to talk.” She threw out her gloves before moving to sit on the bed on Wriothesley’s left side. “How are we supposed to talk if we are just packing and moving boxes Ri?”

“I could help, go pick up some food for everyone so you don’t have to sit at a restaurant.” He put his arm around Y/N pulling her closer and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Plus it’s my non-dominant hand that’s hurt so I can still help you.” 

“I’ll just have to take you two out to eat after.” He offered.

“I’m already going to be tired after this and I’m just going to be exhausted after helping her move. I’m not going to want to sit down somewhere for dinner.” Y/N argued.

“What if I’m so tired I don’t even want to talk while we eat?”

“I’ll just carry you to your apartment afterward if you are so tired. Quit worrying your pretty little head over it. You need the brain power for more important things.”

It was a well-needed reminder for her. Sometimes it was just too easy to get caught up in worry. “You must really like me a lot if you are willing to carry me like a sack of potatoes.”

Wriothesley laughed. “I was thinking more like a piggyback ride but if you want to be carried like a sack of potatoes, I can. We really should talk about how you not so secretly want me to manhandle you.” He teased.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I have work.” 

“I’ll get you after your shift then. We can go up together.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before standing up from the bed. “You can't go on about how much you want your mother to like me and when the perfect opportunity for a good impression comes up, try and stop me from meeting her.”

“But what if it ends up not being perfect?” She looked up at him. “I really care about you. I want my mother to like you. I want my family to like you.”

“Which is why I’m offering to help with a move. Even then if you keep planning for perfection, nothing will get done. You know that.”

“I know not everything can be perfect. I’ve made my peace with that. But I want this to be perfect.” She stood up looking at him. “I want something good for you outside of here as well.” 

“Don’t worry about things like that. Life is good for me now.” He sighed. “It’s not like anything is forcing me to be here all the time. I know there’s good outside. What's bothering you?”

She sighed. “You remember when I said I was volunteering as the person to come down here to help was just to try something new right?” Y/N started as she began to give the real reason.

“Yeah. It's kind of what we encourage here.”

“Well, I got out of a really bad breakup. And my family was just telling me that person wasn't good.”

“You never told me how bad.” He did remember a mention that she got out of a relationship around two and a half years ago when they first met. She never said much about it and who was he to press her about it back then? 

“I was engaged. I almost signed a lease on a new house with them when everything went down. I just feel like I got blindsided by the show they were putting on. If I listened to my family then everything would have been better for me.” She took a deep breath. “So if they like you, nothing like that will happen to me again.”

“And here I was thinking you were just worrying to worry.” Wriothesley shook his head at himself. “Look, I can't control how people are going to view me. And you can't control if your mother will like me or not.”

“I know that. I just want this to be good. I mean I wanted her to like you even before we started dating. You kind of started to become important in my life.” Y/N looked away from him. “Like I think even after I got that breakup, you were definitely part of the reason I stayed.”

“It's going to be okay. It may not be some storybook picture of perfection but it's going to be better if you try and focus on the good.” He placed his left hand on her shoulder trying to ground her back to reality. “What did you say a few weeks ago? I think you said she would steal a single mora to get thrown in here if she didn't get the chance to meet me at this rate.”

Y/N laughed. “Yeah. I had to tell her that's a horrible idea.”

“It's going to be okay.”

She nodded as she spoke. “Okay.” She looked into his eyes falling into the comforting gaze that looked back at her.

“I'll get you after your shift. I still have to fill out paperwork cause of that fight.” Wriothesley kissed her forehead. “I know it's easier said than done, but try not to overthink it.”

“And if I do?”

“Then we will have to find a way to stop you from thinking about that specifically.”

“It better not be by giving me work. Cause I'm going to be so tired tonight.” She looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not cruel. I was thinking of making sure you aren’t alone so you don't fall back into your worries. At least so someone can pull you back out if you do.”

“Well, Sigewinne and Ottnit should be back soon. So I won’t be alone for too long.”

“You ate lunch already?” Wriothesley asked.

Y/N looked away again. “I ate a late breakfast so I was going to eat lunch once they got back.”

“In here?” He asked concerned. “What happened to only eating in here when there is only one person available?”

“I was actually going to go out to the cafeteria. I didn't bring anything down for lunch today.” It was a break from her normal habit, mostly because she forgot to grab her lunch before leaving her apartment in the city. The sandwich that she made that now sat in her kitchen would be dearly missed.

Wriothesley sighed. “Guess I'll have to take the important job of keeping you company during lunch.” 

“Don't you also have work?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“For one, I’m in charge of this place. And two, I still have to eat lunch myself. Also, I think the Fortress can handle itself while I take care of you. I think people know well enough to only disturb me when I'm with you if it's important.” It was something that he noticed was happening long before the two of them got together. It was already common for people would keep their distance due to their various reasons. It must have been learned to give the two space after people had noticed that Wriothesley’s mood would sour when he had to leave for something that didn’t even require his attention.

“Makes me wonder what your definition of important is now.”

“At the moment, it's keeping you out of your worry spiral. Generally a mix of other things, but the only thing taking me away from you is if something requires my attention to be handled. You are at the top of the list at the moment.” Oh, she just wanted to be in his arms after that. 

“The top of the list?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Are these girlfriend privileges?”

Wriothesley laughed remembering what he said not so long ago. “You can call it that if you want. I would have done this for you regardless though.”

Y/N gave in, finally hugging him. Maybe things would be okay.

[darth-mortem]

Finally, I wrote a new text for my English lessons! It's about all TF 141, and it's funny and a little hot.

In this fic Captain Price started a fight for the purity of the language in TF 141 before the visit of generals with inspection. 1846 words.

TW: obscene language

Captain Price went to look for his soldiers around the base and expectedly found them in the smoking area. They chased the rookies away and sat down on the benches with cups of tea and coffee. To tell the truth, they had the right to rest: TF 141 had just returned from the mission in the morning. Therefore, the captain didn’t focus on the behavior of his soldiers, but instead he said something else.

“Well, well, lads,” Price said as he looked at them, lighting his cigar. “An inspection commission is coming to our base in four days. So I want you to watch your language and to stop cursing.”

You can keep reading on Ao3 or here

“Oh, shit!” Gaz exclaimed.

“Fucking hell,” Ghost shook his head.

“Oh, thay kin awa’ and chew mah banger!” Soap added, and aggressively sipped his coffee.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about,” Price said, sighing heavily.

All four looked at each other, and then Soap rolled his eyes and let out a loud groan.

Of course, Price understood that a request and even an order wouldn’t be enough to achieve such a difficult goal as purity of language. That’s why he resorted to some measures that could help. When Ghost, Soap, and Gaz returned to their task force’s break room, they saw a jar with a label in Price’s handwriting on it.

“One curse—one quid,” Gaz read and turned to the others. “Hey, mates, what the fuck?”

“You cursed,” Ghost said thoughtfully, “so you have to put a quid in this bloody jar.”

“Ye too, Lt.!” Soap laughed. “Yer stupid arseholes, guys!”

Simon and Kyle stared at him, and Johnny suddenly stopped laughing. Then each of them threw a coin into the jar in dead silence. Of course, they all had something to say, but no one wanted to part with the money, so the lieutenant and two sergeants stayed quiet. That’s how they were found by Price, who went into the room to make himself a cup of tea.

“Oh, I see you’ve already figured out how it works,” the captain said, turning on an electric kettle.

“Actually not at all,” the lieutenant answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do we have to bring coins here if we curse outside the room?”

“Of course you are, Simon,” Price said. “I count on your honesty, lads.”

“Oh, shit,” Gaz sighed sadly.

“Hey! Watch your fucking language, Kyle!” The captain exclaimed.

There was silence for a few seconds. Then MacTavish laughed, looking at Price and Garrick, who threw their coins into the jar.

This evening, when TF 141 gathered in the break room for tea and biscuits according to their tradition, everyone saw that the jar was stuffed, and it contained not only coins but also banknotes. Price stared at it, slowly removed his hat, and rubbed the back of his head.

“Looks like it’s not working,” MacTavish commented, pulling a box of chocolate chip cookies from the cupboard.

"Looks like we need a bigger jar,” Price denied grimly.

“F…” Riley started, and noticed the others staring at him. “Fine!”

Garrick shook his head and began to pour boiling water into cups.

During evening tea, the four soldiers talked and laughed a lot, usually, but not today. They exchanged a few words, added coins to the jar, and quickly left. However, fifteen minutes later, Soap slipped into Ghost’s room, and Gaz performed a similar maneuver, finding himself in Captain Price’s. They saw each other in the corridor, but both pretended that they didn’t.

For a while, Price and Garrick forgot about the jar, and they didn’t feel like talking at all. The sergeant’s mouth was occupied with kisses at first, and then with something else instead. Only when Kyle was in bed, pressed against the mattress by the stocky, hot captain’s body, he finally spoke.

“Oh, fuck…” He exhaled, melting as Price kissed his neck, scratching the skin with the stiff bristles. “It’s so fucking good, John! Oh… should I put the coins in the jar?"

“Mmm… of course!” The captain answered, caressing Kyle with his hand.

“But John!” The sergeant exclaimed resentfully.

“No buts,” Price said, shaking his head. “I must have principles.”

“Well,” Garrick hugged him tighter and threw his leg on the captain’s thigh, “then I’ll make you pay more than me!”

A similar thing was happening in Lieutenant Riley’s room. In the beginning, Ghost tried to cover Soap’s mouth with his palm or kiss him to silence his voice, but then he forgot about it. Johnny was so hot and willing to do anything for him, so Simon focused on giving him as much pleasure as possible. MacTavish had always been noisy in bed, so even now he was moaning and cursing as he squirmed under the stocky lieutenant, and Ghost enjoyed it. He remained as quiet as ever; only his heavy, hoarse breathing indicated that he also felt good.

Later, when they both got dressed and stood by the window smoking, breaking base’s rules, Soap looked at Ghost and said:

“You made me swear a lot, sae ye have tae pay for me.”

“Negative,” the lieutenant answered.

Soap pouted but didn’t argue, so they returned to bed and quickly fell asleep.

In the morning, Gaz was the last to come to the break room. Glancing at Captain Price, he went over to the new, larger jar and silently put a handful of coins into it.

“Well, well,” Soap reacted immediately, “somebody had a hot night?”

“Yeah!” Gaz answered, annoyed. “And what about you? I can’t believe you were just sleeping!”

Soap sighed heavily, went over to the jar, and put coins in it too. Price and Riley looked at each other and smiled.

The next few days proved difficult for all members of TF 141. One evening, Ghost came to the room, angry and annoyed. He clearly didn’t want to talk, but the others started asking questions, and he gave up. After sipping his tea, the lieutenant put a fifty-pound banknote into the jar and said:

“I trained rookies today.”

Then he thought a little, put in another twenty pounds, and began to tell his story. Price tried to react silently, but the sergeants didn’t skimp on comments and added approximately the same amount to Riley’s deposit.

Another day, the captain himself became a victim of his own invention. Price was doing the paperwork, clearing the entire backlog on mission reports and equipment requisitions, and he was infuriated both by the amount of documents that were simply missing and by the level of the Army bureaucracy.

“Soap, you muppet!” He spoke angrily. “Why did you take so many fucking explosives and didn’t write bloody requests?!”

“Sorry, Cap, I forgot,” Johnny answered, hiding behind Simon.

Gaz laughed and drew the captain’s attention to him.

“And you, little trick-headed bastard,” Price looked at Garrick strictly. “Why does your sniper training ammo request say ‘200’? Did you learn from scratch?!”

“Oh… Maybe I wrote an extra zero accidentally." Kyle was embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, Cap.”

“Sometimes I hate you so much, lads,” Price said, shaking his head. “Except for Simon. His papers are always in perfect order.”

“Thank you, sir," Ghost answered, looking at the sergeants haughtily.

When the inspection day finally arrived, all members of TF 141 were almost happy. Several generals from different NATO countries respectfully walked around, accompanied by local officers, and looked at the soldiers’ training, the base’s infrastructure, and the condition of the buildings and equipment. One of them, the Canadian general, was particularly impressed by the drill of the Scottish unit, where soldiers marched on the square in kilts.

“It looks so fucking pretty,” he said with enjoyment. “Just look at them, Marv!”

“Don’t be such a dickhead, Ethan,” Marv, the USA general, rolled his eyes. “Focus on the inspection!”

Captain Price, who was one of the accompanying officers, carefully held his emotions and looked away, but it didn’t end there. At the shooting range, the commission ran into Ghost, Soap, and Gaz, who were on their way to training. Having saluted according to the statute, the soldiers of TF 141 moved on and clearly heard the words spoken by one of the generals.

“Have you seen this guy in a skull mask?” he asked. “He’s a fucking terminator!”

MacTavish coughed hard, and Garrick elbowed him in the side.

Later, the generals wanted to see the barracks, and soon they reached the residential block where the soldiers of TF 141 lived. After inspecting the sergeants’ rooms, they went into the recreation room, where Ghost was going through some documents and drinking tea.

“Carry on!” The German general ordered before Ghost stood up and saluted.

Price and Riley watched as the commission inspected their room, looking at the maps and photos on the walls, and appreciating cleanliness. Finally, someone noticed the jar, and the generals crowded around it.

“Look, Ethan,” the USA general said to his Canadian colleague, “it’s a fucking good idea!”

Ghost coughed, and everyone turned to him. Under his sinister, icy gaze, the USA general got confused; then he patted his jacket pockets and pulled out a coin.

“I don’t have a quid,” he said. “Will a dollar do?”

“Aye, sir!” Lieutenant Riley answered strictly, and the general put his coin into the jar.

When the inspection left the base, the jar disappeared, and the members of TF 141 breathed a sigh of relief. They were so happy that they didn’t even ask where all the collected money went. However, the answer to this question was soon received. One cold, rainy evening, Captain Price entered the break room and placed a bottle of good whiskey and a large bag of various delicacies on the table.

“Och, what’s th’ reason?” Soap asked and jumped up to get glasses from the cupboard. “Did someone die? Or mibbie born?”

“Shut the fuck up, Soap,” the captain answered cheerfully. “I decided that spending money from the swear jar on a small feast was a good idea. And our base passed the inspection perfectly; it’s not a bad reason.”

The soldiers perked up and stirred as they took out plates and spread the goodies that Price had bought for them.

“Hey, Simon,” the captain called, and the lieutenant approached him. “That general fooled you. Here, take a look.”

Price placed a coin in Riley’s palm. It wasn’t a dollar, but fifty cents.

“Arsehole!” Ghost exclaimed angrily, looking at the coin.

“Fuck him,” Johnny gasped with his hand and poured the whiskey into the glasses. “C'moan, guys, let’s drink!”

All four sat down at the table, and soon the usual cheerful and warm atmosphere reigned in the room. The soldiers were talking, recalling funny incidents from their missions, drinking whiskey, and eating delicious snacks. Soap rested his head on Ghost’s shoulder, and Price carelessly hugged Gaz, stroking the back of his head.

“Th’ idea wi’ that jar wasn’t sae terrible,” MacTavish said, enjoying the cured meat and the lieutenant’s tight embrace. "Mibbie, we can repeat it somehow?" “No!” Price, Riley, and Gaz answered in unison, and then all four laughed loudly.

[sequinsmile-x]

Chasing Shadows

“Besides, you’ll be there with me. I can just pretend we’re on a date,” she smiles wryly when she finally looks up at him, “But with all of our friends watching us thinking we’re faking being together whilst we’re trying to lure out an unsub.” 

He smiles and reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “It is getting a little hard to keep track of isn’t it?” 

AKA the one where Aaron and Emily are in a secret relationship, and have to 'fake' being in a relationship for a case...whilst pretending they are not actually in a relationship.

-x-

Hi friends,

This is one of the prompts from the I Knew You'd Linger Like a Tattoo Kiss series, but it got away from me so it is its own stand-alone one-shot!

I've made this a series on Ao3 for ease (and to be honest mostly so I can keep track haha). The prompt for this one is 'kisses for a cover'

Anyway, this is really silly in parts and my attempt at being funny.

As always, please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Canon typical themes, smatterings of plot/case fic,

Words: 4.3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“I could have done that.” 

Emily turns to look at her boyfriend over her shoulder. She smiles widely at him before she turns back to the task at hand, her focus on the eggs she was pushing around the pan in front of her instead of how good he looked standing half naked in her kitchen, his chest bare and his hair askew. She loved seeing Aaron like this, without the harsh lines and straight edges of his suits. There was something about seeing him rumpled like this, half asleep and deliciously hers, that she loved. 

They had the whole weekend stretched out ahead of them. Jack was with Roy, a weekend away that had been planned for months and Emily had jumped at the opportunity to spend some time alone with her boyfriend. She had felt selfish at first for how excited she was for it, but Aaron had assured her he was excited too, that it didn’t diminish the love either of them had for his son. 

She’d woken up before Aaron this morning, which was rare in itself. He was usually up before the alarm, waking her with gentle kisses and his hand trailing up and down her back or arm as he pulled her from sleep. She’d spent some time watching him, enjoying the chance to see him completely relaxed. He’d looked almost boyish as he lay next to her, his face half buried in her pillow, his arm heavy over her waist. She’d eventually snuck out from his embrace, leaving him with a kiss against his forehead before she grabbed his shirt from her bedroom floor, fastening a few buttons as she walked to the kitchen to make them breakfast. 

“You needed your beauty sleep,” she says, humming contentedly as he wraps his arms around her, tugging her back against his chest as he kisses her cheek, “Plus, it’s only bacon and eggs,” she says, turning her head to kiss him, smiling when he beams at her, “It’s not exactly a gourmet meal.” 

He hums as he buries his face in the crook of her neck, seeking out the scent of her that he’d never tire of. She always smelt sweet, like vanilla, with a hint of spice to it. Something that he’d catch in the air when they were working and she would walk past him, a soft smile on her face when their eyes would meet across the room because she knew exactly what effect she had on him. He could smell himself on her too, a touch of his cologne lingering on her skin from where they’d slept pressed against each other and on the shirt she was wearing. It was mixed in with the smell of her, and it makes him hold her even tighter, his lips against her neck as he kisses up towards her jaw, chasing the giggle she lets out as she continues to cook for them. 

“What do you want to do today?” He asks, kissing her cheek, wanting to have as much of this, of her, as he could over the next couple of days. 

She hums as if she has to think about it before she turns to look at him, their faces so close their noses bump against each other, “Eat breakfast,” she says, kissing him softly, “Go back to bed, have sex,” she laughs when he does, kissing him again, “Shower together. Have sex in there too,” she smiles so widely their next kiss is lost to a laugh, “Snuggle on the couch and watch a movie, have se-”

“I get the idea, sweetheart,” he chuckles, resting his chin on her shoulder as she turns her focus back on the food, “Sounds like an excellent plan to…” he drifts off as his phone rings in the pocket of his sweatpants and they both groan. 

“Please don’t say it’s work,” she grumbles, not even trying to stop the way she pouts as he digs his phone out of his pocket and turns it to show her Penelope’s name on the screen, “Damn it.” 

“Sorry, Em,” he says, as if it’s his fault, a hangover from his marriage and the ever-present feeling he was letting Emily down. 

“It’s not your fault,” she replies, stamping her lips against his, “You should answer before she leaves you a colourful voicemail about how it’s her weekend too.” 

He smiles and nods, “Hotchner,” he says as he answers, stepping away, leaving cool air in his place as he paces around her kitchen. She only half listens, her disappointment cold and heavy in her gut as she plates up their breakfast, her hopes of a lazy day with her boyfriend disappearing with each question Aaron asks Penelope and each long silence that follows as she answers. By the time he hangs up, she’s sitting at her breakfast bar, one of her elbows on the counter as she eats. He kisses her forehead as he sits next to her, his right hand heavy on her bare thigh as he starts to eat with his left, “You’re pouting.” 

She scoffs, “Of course I am,” she says, smiling he raises his eyebrows in surprise at her admittance to something she’d usually deny, “We were meant to have a weekend off and now we’re going on a case. Unless Pen was calling to tell you about her plans for the weekend.” 

He squeezes her thigh, “No such luck. We’re going to Idaho, she’ll call you soon.” 

“See,” she grumbles, fighting a smile when he offers her a bite of his breakfast even though hers is the same. She leans forward and eats the food from his fork and then shakes her head after she swallows, “Our weekend of sex and food is all gone,” she sighs, “And now I’m going to have to pretend you’re just my boss and not my very handsome and sexy boyfriend.” 

At first, the secrecy had been practical. A tool she and Aaron used as they navigated the shift in their relationship from friends to more that allowed them to do it with no outside influence. No staring or comments, both well-meaning and meddling, from their friends as they settled into new roles in each other's lives. Then she’d started to enjoy it. She loved that their relationship was something just for them, untouched by the opinions of the others that she cared about more than she could admit even to herself. It’s how they found themselves ten months down the line, both aware that this was it for them - that they wanted everything with each other - with only Jack and Jessica knowing. 

It was getting harder to keep it a secret, the shine taken off of it now because she knew if they wanted to take the next step, to live together in one of the houses they’d circled in the paper on her living room table, they had to let their friends in. She knew they’d made it harder on themselves, that the secrecy in itself would garner opinions from their friends and that not all of them would be what she’d want to hear, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Not when she’d had so much time to make Aaron hers. 

“We’ll tell them next weekend at Dave’s,” he assures her, “Just like we planned.” 

She smiles, “I know,” she says, “Although I’d still have to pretend you aren’t my handsome and sexy boyfriend when we are on cases,” she winks at him, “I will settle for holding your hand on the jet though,” she leans forward and kisses him, “You have some of your suits here, right?” She asks, and he nods, “Excellent. That means you’ll have time to shower here,” she smiles as she pulls back, “And that means we can keep at least part of our original plan,” she sighs when her phone rings on the counter and she picks it up, blowing out a breath at the sight of Penelope’s name as she answers, “Hi Pen, please tell me you’re just calling to hear my voice?” 

Aaron smiles at her fake ignorance and kisses her forehead, taking advantage of as many moments as he can as Aaron and Emily before they have to slip back into Hotch and Prentiss. 

___

It takes four days for them to make any kind of progress. 

Four long days with very little sleep at the motel they’d been booked into. Aaron had snuck into her room each night, slipping into her bed and wrapping himself around her so they could both get better sleep. He woke her up each morning before he left, his lips against her forehead or cheek as he said he’d see her in an hour or so when the team would meet for breakfast. When they first started this they said they’d never sleep in the same room on cases, but it was a rule that had barely lasted the very first case they’d been together for. She slept better next to him, and she knew he slept better next to her, and any attempt to pretend otherwise had disappeared months ago.

She huffs out a breath as she looks at the boards they’d set up in the conference room, looking over the information again and again in the hope she’d see something they hadn’t seen before. All the victims were middle-aged women who had been found in an alley behind the only high-end restaurant in town. All of them beaten beyond recognition and left there like they were nothing more than the trash they were found lying in. The local cops had dismissed the initial couple of victims as escorts, women who they saw as putting themselves in a situation that could have been avoided. The third victim, a well thought of married woman with no links to that life, is what caused the step change in their attitude to the case, finally calling the BAU when they realised just how in over their heads they were. 

“I don’t think we have any choice but to send someone to the restaurant undercover,” Derek says, his arms crossed over his chest, “The owner’s lack of cooperation is making this more difficult than it needs to be.” 

“He’s worried about his business,” Dave chimes in, his brow furrowed, “More than he is about the bodies getting dumped behind it.” 

JJ hums, “Capitalism at its finest,” she murmurs, “So we send someone in who fits the profile of the victims, make sure that they draw attention to themselves and what? Hope the unsub makes himself known?” 

Emily sighs, her lips pressed together because she knows where this is going. She looks at Aaron and their eyes meet, and she knows he’s figured it out too, his jaw tight as he opens his mouth to refute the plan, something she knows he wouldn’t do for any of the others. The ability to just be her boss, and not her boyfriend, blurred by his love for her and his hatred of putting her in this situation. 

“I can do it,” she says before anyone else can suggest it, before Aaron can say it’s not a good idea, and her smile is tight when they all look over at her, “I’m the only one who fits the profile of the victims,” she forces a smirk when she looks at JJ, “You’re catching up though.”

“No,” Aaron says, shaking his head, “We don’t know enough.” 

“It’s the best chance we’ve got,” she says as she turns to look at him, “Plus, it’s not like I’ll be alone. You’ll all be nearby, Plus…I have something I can wear.” 

He feels a flash of sorrow in his gut at the knowledge that she’d come prepared, that she always came prepared just in case the team needed her to play whatever role was required. He hates that he’s guilty of it too, that more than once he’s asked her to allow them to use her beauty and the way other people look at her to their advantage. 

“Fine,” he says eventually, “But you’re definitely not going alone. I’ll come with you.” 

She has to stop herself from rolling her eyes, her instinct to say his first name squashed in an instant as she remembers where they are, that the team are watching this back and forth, “Hotch-”

“It may work,” Spencer says, “If you were acting like a couple and the unsub saw you he might be intrigued. One of the victims was there with her boyfriend before he had to leave for work. She finished her meal and left out the back and was found the next day.” 

Derek smirks as he looks at Aaron and Emily, “Do you two think you could be a convincing couple?” He tilts his head as he looks back and forth between them, “I’m not sure I see it.” 

Emily narrows her eyes at him, “I’m sure we can manage,” she deadpans before she turns back to Aaron, “Are you sure you want to do this?” 

He nods, hearing the question she doesn’t ask - are you sure this is a good idea - and clears his throat before he answers, “I’m sure.” 

She blows out a long breath and nods, “Then I guess we’re going on a date.” 

JJ smirks at her from across the room, “Will your boyfriend mind when he finds out you’ve had to be all over Hotch for an evening?” 

She’s proud of herself for not smiling at JJ’s question, or for not immediately looking over at Aaron and giving the game away. JJ and Penelope found out she was seeing someone a couple of months ago after they saw a man’s shirt in her pile of freshly washed laundry. She hadn’t been able to come up with a lie fast enough, Aaron’s ability to fluster her even when he wasn’t present second to none, and she admitted she was seeing someone. She’d refused then and ever since to give any more details but they teased her relentlessly whenever they got together for girls night, her love for her boyfriend clear to her friends even though she’d barely told them anything about him. 

“He’ll be fine,” she says her gaze flicking over to the man in question, “He’s a grown-up,” she smiles, unable to resist teasing Aaron when he was clearly already a little uncomfortable, “Plus, Hotch is a gentleman. He’ll keep his hands to himself. Right, Sir?” 

He stares at her, and it’s strange to think that a year ago she wouldn’t see the spark in his eyes. That she wouldn’t have seen past the glare he wore as a mask and see the mix of adoration and fake irritation lying beneath. It makes her grateful that he’s hers, that she had the privilege of being allowed to see what he hid from everyone else, and she knows she wants to see it for the rest of her life. 

“Of course, I will, Prentiss,” he says, giving as good as he gets in the way he says her name, an inflexion in it that makes her press her lips together to stop herself from smiling. The dangerous line of giving themselves away that they had walked like a tightrope for months getting thinner by the day.

They go back to the hotel to get ready after they’ve figured out the plan for the evening. Emily looks at herself in the mirror, her chest tight as she feels herself slipping into a role she’d played countless times before. She’s still messing with her hair and plucking at the material of her dress when there is a light knock on the door before Aaron uses his card key to let himself in. She smiles when she sees he’s followed her instructions to remove his tie and undo a couple of the buttons on his shirt. 

“You look handsome,” she says, smiling softly before she looks at her reflection again, blowing out a slow breath as he steps towards her, his arms tight around her middle. It’s a reminder of the moment they’d had together in her kitchen before they were pulled onto this case. She leans into it, into him, seeking the comfort she never quite found the words to ask for. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, kissing her cheek before he turns her in his arms, his hands on her hips before they slide to her back. He watches her carefully, sees the tightness to her smile that usually only the memories of the things she’d endured, or her mother, could bring out of her. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? We’ll come up with another plan.” 

She shakes her head as she links her arms around his neck. She runs her fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head, “I’m okay,” she says automatically, shrugging before she continues, “We both know I’ve done worse, honey.”

He presses her closer, his palms wide and firm on her back as she tries to laugh it off, a coping mechanism she’d had for as long as he’d known her, “Em, sweetheart, you don’t have to do that with me.” 

It disarms her, her shoulders slumping with it, but she nods, her lips pressed together as she shifts closer to him, “Someone needs to do it, I’ll be fine,” she smiles softly, her focus on the lapel of his jacket as she picks off a piece of lint, sure if she let her eyes meet his she’d lose her bravado entirely, “Besides, you’ll be there with me. I can just pretend we’re on a date,” she smiles wryly when she finally looks up at him, “But with all of our friends watching us thinking we’re faking being together whilst we’re trying to lure out an unsub.” 

He smiles and reaches out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “It is getting a little hard to keep track of isn’t it?” 

She chuckles and nods, stamping her lips against his, “It is,” she says, kissing him once more before she pulls back, “But, if we catch the unsub tonight we can go home and everything will be simpler again.” 

He kisses her forehead and then reaches for her hand, linking their fingers together and squeezing, “In that case, we’d better get going Agent Prentiss.” 

She shakes her head at him, her lips pressed together to try to contain her smile, “Lead the way, Agent Hotchner.”

___

She can almost pretend they are on a normal date. That it’s just the two of them focused only on each other and that they aren’t there to try and lure a killer out of his nest. 

She makes a point of holding Aaron’s hand over the table, of leaning in and whispering things to him and laughing at his responses, acting the part of the loved-up couple that they actually were in full sight of their co-workers. JJ and Derek were sitting at the bar keeping watch, and Spencer and Dave were sitting in a van outside with the lead detective. Every now and again she’d look up and see Derek smirking from behind his alcohol-free beer, his amusement clear as he exchanged comments she couldn’t hear with JJ. Emily avoids the gaze of her best friend, the curiosity in her eyes that looked a little too close to realisation for her liking, and continues to focus on Aaron, on the feel of his hand heavy on her thigh. 

As the evening drags on she starts to feel someone watching them, the familiar prickling on the back of her neck that had been almost permanent when Ian was hunting her down. She casts a glance at a man a few tables over. He looks away, but not before she can see how he’s looking at her, a way she’s been looked at since long before she understood its meaning, and she turns back to Aaron. She leans in close, her lips against his ear, “I’ve spotted someone who might be our guy.” 

Aaron looks over too, his grip on her tightening when he spots the man looking at her like she’s a piece of meat, like she’s there just for him to look at. “I see him.”

She places her hand on his cheek and makes him look at her, her eyes firm but tender as they meet his, a subtle shaking of her head that lets him know she has all but read his mind. That she knows exactly what he wants to do to the man they’d come here to find for even just looking at her. She loves him for it, for wanting to protect her from something that was truly nothing in comparison to everything else, and she can’t help but wonder when the idea of him protecting her stopped annoying her, when she started to want him to do it.

“This is what we came here for, honey,” she says, the gaze of the man in question burning the back of her neck whilst Derek’s and JJ’s burn into her cheek. She lets her hand drop to his shoulder, “We should go outside. See if he follows.” 

He nods, squeezing her hand once more before he gets the waiter's attention and asks for the bill. Aaron catches Derek’s eye on the way out, his hand on Emily’s back as they nod at each other, a silent agreement he and JJ would only be a few minutes behind them. When the cool air wraps around them Emily shivers, leaning into Aaron’s side on instinct, chasing the warmth he always had an abundance of. She wraps her hand around his and tugs him into the opening of the alley, smiling as she pulls him close. She boxes herself in between him and the wall, the brick rough and cold against her back contrasting the warm softness of him against her front. 

“What are we doing?” He asks, unable to stop himself from smiling, something about her presence that always brought it out of him. A balm to his soul that he thinks he must have always been looking for. She shrugs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she pulls him closer, smiling when he instinctively puts his hands on her waist. She nods towards the other end of the alley, at the man who’d followed them out and looped around the restaurant to try to cut them off. 

“Putting on a show,” she whispers just before her lips touch his, sighing at the familiarity of it, the comfort it brought despite the reason they were doing it. They lose themselves in it, his grip on her waist tightening as she sighs, her nails scratching at his scalp as she pulls him impossibly closer. They’d shared all kinds of kisses in the last ten months. Passionate. Soft. All consuming. Gentle and comforting and everything in between, but she thinks this might be her favourite type. Familiar. Loving. The kind of kiss she can see herself sharing with him every day for the rest of her life.  

She’s pulled from it at the sound of Derek shouting, announcing himself and JJ as FBI as they pull their guns on the man in the alley with them, still far enough away that they were never in any danger, his own gun dropped to the floor.

Aaron steps away from her as Derek handles the arrest, clearing his throat as he tries to act as if they hadn’t just been caught making out by the team, even though it was part of the plan. Emily reaches out and wipes her lipstick from his lips without thinking about it, a habit she only realises she’s doing until she’s pulling her hand back. They both look towards the end of the alley when they hear someone clearing their throat, and Emily sighs as her eyes meet Dave’s, knowing they are caught simply by the look on their friend's faces. The varying degrees of confusion and knowing smirks painted across them. 

“Looks like our couple here has a little explaining to do,” Dave says, his smirk only getting wider as Emily glares at him. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emily says, running her hands down her dress to smooth it down, the material creased at her hips where Aaron had been manhandling her. 

“Come on, Princess,” Derek says, his eyebrow raised as he puts the unsubs cuffs on a little tighter than necessary, “Even Reid could tell that wasn’t a first kiss.”

“Hey,” Spencer says, his arms crossed, “I’ve kissed people before.” 

Dave turns to JJ, “I think we solved the mystery of who Emily’s boyfriend is.” 

JJ hums, pulling her phone out of her pocket, “Pen will be delighted.” 

“Can I please remind everyone we are still on a case,” Aaron says, finally snapping back into Unit Chief mode, clearing his throat to try and distract himself from the embarrassment burning in his cheeks, “We still have work to do.” 

“Fine,” Derek says, cutting over the conversation, smiling as he hands off the unsub to the local cops, “But if you think we’re staying quiet on the jet home you’ve got another thing coming.” 

Emily sighs, her arms tight over her chest as she watches the rest of them leave, grateful they at least had the decency to give them a few seconds alone, “It just had to be Idaho,” she grumbles, “Couldn’t have been somewhere closer to home just an hour flight away,” she looks up at Aaron, smiling softly at the slightly shellshocked expression on his face, “This is going to be a long flight home. Think you can scare them into not asking any questions?” 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he laughs and shakes his head, wrapping his arm around her to pull her close to stamp a kiss against her forehead, “But I don’t think I’d be able to stop them even if I threatened to fire them.”