#au itself more in order and i also really want to watch it!! ive just been busy with school and other art. a drawing i did for fathers day | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

floralseokjin · 4 years ago

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⤑ made-up love song v (m).

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, fluff, smut; a shit ton of kissing, oral (f), seokjin likes eye contact, slight overstimulation, he also seems to have a slight potty mouth when turned on, romantic sex, protected sex, shower scene, oral (m), this chapter is basically just sex, enjoy! (yes, the dilf dick is b i g) lingerie described found here for the visuals ~ words; 9,572

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough. You were like a little kid at the lead up to Christmas. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this excited for something. Actually, on second thoughts, you couldn’t think of a time you were this excited for anything, period. And all over the prospect of sleeping with Seokjin, and definitely not in the innocent way… He had in no way explicitly stated that you’d be having sex this week, but the insinuation was heavy in the air. Everything leading up to this moment was suggesting come Saturday night you would not be sat in front of Seokjin’s 75” television watching boxsets…

On the morning of you decided to pack a few things in a small case. You definitely planned on returning home in the day if needed or bored while Seokjin was at work, but the essentials were required: underwear, pyjamas, a few outfits, toiletries and skincare, your iPad, miscellaneous chargers. Soojung on the other hand was acting like you were never coming back…

“I’m going to miss you.” She whined, having been hovering around you as you packed. “Leaving me alone with smelly Tae.”

In a bid not to be alone in the evenings she’d invited her smelly boyfriend over for the week, but although she sounded irked it was all just an act. God knows what they’d get up to while you were gone, you dreaded to think. On second thoughts, maybe it would be best to stay at Seokjin’s place all week… You had no clue what you’d walk in on in your own home.

“I won’t be gone the whole week. Besides, we can meet up for lunch and stuff.” You often visited her at the department store, perusing the food court until it was time for her lunch break. You weren’t secluded from the whole world while away. What did she think was happening?

She helped you fold your clothes in momentary silence, deep in thought it seemed. “What if you love it there and want to stay permanently Dilf mansion?”

You scoffed immediately, taking the small pile of t-shirts from her to pack away. “Soo, way to jump the gun.” You’d been dating barely six weeks, hadn’t even had sex yet, moving in together was number 1 on the highly unlikely list. Although, sliding in a couple of pairs of flats into the top pocket of your case and zipping it up, you hummed in consideration. “Dilf mansion does have a ring to it though…”

Soojung’s attention was on another pile of clothing now – one you would be wearing this evening to leave for Seokjin’s house. Her fingertips brushed along the delicate baby blue lace of your lingerie, sitting on top of the pile and she looked up at you and grinned wickedly. “You’re going to knock his socks off with this.”

You and her had spent yesterday browsing the mall with a very important task. To decide on the most perfect lingerie set. Knowing Seokjin for a while know, you’d noticed he had an inclination for the colour blue, so your chosen piece had to be a winner – practically see-through, littered in beautiful lace flowers. You were well and truly prepared for tonight, you were a woman on a mission.

“His Dilf socks,” you corrected your best friend, both of you instantly exploding into a fit of giggles.

Arin had left with her grandparents this morning, and as much as Seokjin was eager to get this weekend started and see you immediately, he actually had a few things he needed to take care of at work. It wasn’t until around 5pm that you got into your car to make the short journey, Soo waving you off proudly like you were about to attend your graduation. You were honestly quite calm given the circumstances, although one look at Seokjin as he stepped out the front door to take your case and all inner composure was lost. You were one big ball of excitement, most of it flurrying around in the pit of your stomach. Yet you kept cool on the outside, grinning at the handsome man in front of you despite your lingerie burning marks into your skin.

And handsome he was today, (as if he wasn’t every day), his dark hair parted in the centre of his forehead naturally, his eyes crinkling as he smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You tasted a hint of mango on his mouth, an obvious sheen to his plump lips, and you presumed he’d applied some chapstick before you’d arrived – the chapstick you’d bought him not too long ago after he’d complained of cracked lips to you on the phone one night.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, his arms around your waist, body pressed snuggly into yours.

“Hey yourself,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his neck, gazing into one another’s eyes before you lightly teased him. “Are we going to stay out here all night?”

Chuckling heartily, he reached behind you, lifting your case with ease. “Let’s go put this in my room.”

You’d never once stepped foot onto the upper level of his house before, so you were very observant on your way to his bedroom, eyes catching art pieces (you noticed numerous of Arin’s) and photos along the walls, light fixtures, as well as the odd plant here and there. You had to walk two flights of stairs to get to your destination, one average in length, the other shorter, veering off to the left of the corridor to reach a landing leading into his bedroom. You remembered what he’d said about changing and designing his bedroom himself, so you were very curious as to what it looked like inside. Yet still, the sight of it stunned you to brief silence.

His was the largest bedroom in the house, the master bedroom if you were being fancy, but in your opinion it was more like a mini home in itself. All it needed was a kitchen and you would be good to go. It smelt just like him – of his cologne and the recognisable vanilla scent his house seemed to waft of every time you visited. The walls were warm grey, décor similar with dashes of cream and gold. The bed matched the whole vibe of the room – insanely large, and you could already tell it was going to be the comfiest thing you’d ever slept on. Directly opposite, but a long way away, were a sofa and love seat sat around a TV hooked to the wall above a stunning fireplace. There were two sets of double windows, from the ceiling to the wooden floor, dark grey drapes open – not that it mattered. Seokjin’s house was out-of-the-way, no chance of being seen. All you were met with as you looked down, was a small patch of garden you hadn’t seen before, plain and simple, but very beautiful. Tranquil.

To the left of the room a door opened into another, perhaps a quarter of the size – his closet, and you followed him inside, still pretty much lost for words. He said there was no point putting your belongings away tonight, you could do it tomorrow, but he’d saved a drawer for you and there was an empty section of hanging space you could use too. There was also a dressing table you could put to good use, because he sure didn’t, and then he whisked you away into the bathroom, which was probably the most beautiful room in the house. Everything was warm marble in colour. A separate bath and shower (both gigantic) and double sinks.

“I got you a robe,” Seokjin pointed out, and you followed his gaze to behind the door, two fluffy white robes hooked to the wall.

Oh, boy. You could get used to this.

Seokjin ordered takeout for dinner – from an Indian restaurant Namjoon kept raving about apparently. With the amount he ordered you could have sworn he was feeding a whole party, not just the two of you. You were stuffed in no time, curling up on the sofa with a glass of red wine as Seokjin loaded the dishwasher. He still hadn’t cooked an actual meal for you, and when he joined you, of course you reminded him. This week he was preparing dinner for you one night, and that was final. You needed to see what Chef Kim had in him – even if he insisted his skills were long forgotten.

You cuddled as you watched a movie, which more often than not meant you’d start to become sleepy – just ask Soojung – but tonight was different. You were wide awake and practically thrumming with excitement. You were begging for the movie credits an hour before they were due, and when they finally popped up your heart started to beat harder in anticipation. It was nearing 11pm. Your lingerie was still burning welts into your skin…

Seokjin kissed the top of your head, your back pressed into his chest where you’d been snuggled into him, legs across the sofa, for the duration of the night. One of his arms was crossed around your front, the other free to drink his wine as he propped his feet up on the glass topped coffee table. You could really get used to this.

“What did you think?” He hummed, reaching forward to place his glass on a coaster. You grabbed his hand, not wanting him to leave you and he chuckled, quickly resuming position to now loop both arms around your shoulders, pressing you further into the warmth of his body.

“I enjoyed,” you replied with a small shrug. In all honesty it would’ve been a great movie if you hadn’t been so distracted.

You felt him lower his head, breath hot against your ear as he spoke. “I’m glad you didn’t fall asleep on me.” You giggled as he started to kiss the column of your neck, his barely there presses of his lips tickling you. Yet still you pushed into his hold, letting your head fall back. He took the opportunity to suck your earlobe between his lips, eliciting a sweet sigh from you. “I really can’t wait to spend this entire week with you.” He whispered.

You tried to keep your voice as uninvolved as possible – which was a lot harder when he now had your earlobe between his teeth. “Eh. I’m so-so over it.”

“Y/N!” He scolded playfully, groaning a laugh as he lifted his head away. “Stop. Now’s not the time for joking around.”

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, latching onto his hands.

“Face me,” he murmured almost suddenly. “Let me kiss you properly.”

His kisses were gentle and loving, his hands cupping your face as you leaned into him, hands placed across his hard chest. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt tucked into some black pants, he’d looked irresistible all night. He pulled away slowly, lips upturned almost drunkenly. “What’s that grin for?”

Seokjin’s gaze flicked from your lips to your eyes repeatedly as he replied, thumbs massaging circles into your cheeks. “I’m just very happy. Is that allowed?”

Giggling, you pressed your mouth to his, wrapping your palms around his neck to pull him in closer. He hummed loudly – indulgently, and let you lick into his mouth, his own hands slipping down to your neck and down your torso, gripping your middle. Your chest was flush to his and you welcomed the heat of his body. You were happy too. It had been a long time since you’d last felt this content, and tonight you’d realised just how lovely it was to be able to lounge with Seokjin and be in his company so casually, so naturally like this. You would become spoiled this week, but you couldn’t feel too worried right now.

Breaking away again, it seemed like he wanted to say something, but your mouth was a greedy thing, finding its way down his neck and across his throat as he leaned his head against the back of the sofa, his breathing shallow as he let you wonder. His fingers brushed up and down your back distractedly, until he seemed to remember what he wanted to tell you. “Hey,” he whispered, breath catching in his throat when you pinched your teeth into his Adam’s apple softly. “Hey, stop for a moment. There was something I wanted to say before…” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the very obvious direction of his sentence, and as much as you wanted to nosedive straight into that pool, you pulled back to look into his eyes, waiting patiently.

He straightened his back and you eased off him a little, finding his fond smile contagious. “I’ve enjoyed these past few weeks so much.” He began, sincerity in his tone . “I know I’m not old old by any means but dating you has made me feel like I’m young again. I mean, grinding in the middle of a bar is something I didn’t even do back in my college days.”

“I fail to believe that,” you laughed.

“Really,” he insisted, looking amused. “I was a nerd. A handsome one, but a nerd nonetheless.” Before you could roll your eyes he was continuing. “What I’m trying to say is that, I really like you, Y/N.” His fingers played with the ends of your hair lovingly. “You know that already. Shit, I’m crazy about you. Just hearing your voice makes my day better. No matter how short a time we spend together, even if it’s just on the phone to say goodnight, I feel happy – I feel relaxed.” He paused to take a breath before moving to cup your face with one hand. “No matter how stressed I am you make it better by just existing.”

“…Seokjin,” you murmured, a little lost for words at his declaration.

He chuckled warmly, tops of his cheeks tinged somewhat rosy. “Too cheesy?”

You shook your head adamantly, reaching for his face as well. “Not at all. I’m crazy about you too.” His face lit up instantly and you couldn’t help but kiss him. “I’m so happy we met,” you confessed against his mouth. “I don’t want this summer to be over.”

“It’s not over yet,” he laughed. “We still have time to make it even better.” You wanted that more than anything. Finding it difficult to keep away from your lips, he practically had to tear himself away. He was out of breath. “I know saying this out loud is silly given everything, but… Let’s make this official.”

Your heart started somersaulting. You felt like you were in high school again, over the moon because Kim Rowoon had asked you to prom. Only this was better than that – much, much better. Linking your arms around Seokjin’s neck you tilted your head to the side, a grin unable to keep off your face. “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Mr. Kim?”

“What do you say?” He sounded hopeful and soft.

You hummed out loud, thinking hard. “Can I get back to you? 3 to five business days seems about right.” You immediately squealed as you finished your sentence, Seokjin’s hands finding their way around your butt to tug you forward. You gripped onto his shoulders with the surprise.

“Too bad because I’ve already been calling you my girlfriend at the office.”

You didn’t have a chance to reply, the hard press of his lips against yours knocking you senseless. You found yourself in his lap not long after, fingers dragging through his hair as you clung to him, mouths moving in gradual urgency until you began to feel out of breath. Your tongues seemed to grow more daring, intent, as your soft moans mingled with his quiet groans. You hadn’t quite found yourself in this position before, usually moulded to the soft leather but this time you had Seokjin pinned tight, a heat that was quickly becoming unbearable burning between your bodies, and his hands running up and down your back didn’t help.

Each brush of his fingertips had your skin prickling with warmth, dizzying your mind, and when you felt him brush against the curve of your left breast you leaned forward into his touch, desperate for more. Seokjin grunted, encouraged by your action as he cupped the soft flesh, his thumb grazing your nipple which hardened from the touch. Your kiss turned a lot more frenzied after that, Seokjin roaming your body with confidence, his unoccupied hand cupping your butt to rock you against his crotch.

He was hard. You’d felt it stiffening ever since you’d climbed into his lap, but now he was solid, flesh pressing (probably painfully) against his pants, and feeling emboldened you lifted your hips, hovering over him for your hand to slot in between your bodies, cupping his erection firmly. He stiffened under your grasp, his breath hitching and you took that moment to drag your tongue along his, teasing him as you slowly started to stroke him above his slacks. He felt thick and rigid between your fingers, pulsing erratically against your hold, and he broke away from your mouth, head falling back as a loud, drawn-out groan slipped from his throat. You gazed at him – eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed, mouth parted as he breathed shallowly – and took a mental picture. You wanted to remember this moment forever. He looked gorgeous, basking in pleasure and you wanted to pleasure him more. It was an urge so strong you practically dived on him, mouth slamming into his. He soon gained his bearings, kissing you just as wildly as his hands groped your body.

“Do you – mm, do you want – mm – to take this upstairs?” He asked against your lips, fingers currently digging into the soft flesh of your ass. The veins in his neck were visible, his desperation for you obvious, and you pulled away from the kiss to nod rapidly. If he didn’t get you upstairs soon you’d surely explode.

You let out a little squeak as you suddenly found yourself in the air, safely held up by Seokjin. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as he began to make the brisk walk to the hallway and towards the staircase. “Oh, my god,” you muttered, laughing as you realised he was about to carry you bridal style all the way up the stairs.

“What?” He laughed back, his eyes twinkling warmly. Your heart melted at the sight and you leaned in to kiss him, uncaring that you both may fall backwards and break your necks.

“I may have forgotten about the amount of stairs in this goddamn house,” he panted lightly once you’d made it past the first set.

“Put me down then,” you giggled.

“Never,” he sang out, pecking you on the mouth sweetly.

Once in his bedroom, he placed you down, closing the door behind you before caging you against it, kissing you like he hadn’t seen you for months. You keened into his touch, whole body hot and ready for him, but in the end you couldn’t keep up with his mouth. He’d never kissed you like this, he was a man possessed, you physically felt weak at the knees and you clung to him, moaning softly when his mouth fell to your neck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he confessed against the wet skin, fresh waves of arousal washing through your body. His voice was an octave lower, gruff and nothing like you’d heard before. “I can’t contain myself knowing we’re going to be alone for a whole week.”

“What do you plan on doing to me?” You laughed weakly, but to be honest, the time for wisecracks were gone. You were hanging on by a thread, this close to begging him to tear your clothes off.

Cupping your neck he pulled away to look you in the face. His pupils were blown out, more black than the warm brown you were used to. The tops of his cheeks were tinged red, his own arousal very evident, and when he replied he sounded as sincere as ever. “Anything you want me to.”

Okay, if he carried on like this, he’d mess up your plan good and proper. He was rude. Very rude. And hot, and sexy, and yours. God, you really wanted him. Your body was screaming for him. You pressed a kiss to his mouth, and then another, and another, determined not to get yourself glued there no matter how much he tried to drag his tongue along the seam of your lips. “L-let me freshen up,” you managed to get out, voice shaky as you (with great difficultly) held him away at arm’s length.

At your words, he slowly made sense of them, his eyes refocussing before he gave you a short nod and politely stepped back. “Ok.”

Before you could be tempted by that mouth of his once more, you made a dash for his bathroom, closing the door behind you. Immediately you began to rush out of your clothes, not even bothering to fold them properly because you were in such a hurry. You’d had this planned all night, wanting him to be rendered speechless, and staring at your lingerie cladded self in the giant mirror he had hooked to the wall, you reminded yourself to take a breather. You were going to walk out there calmly, the epitome of composed as you sought out his reaction. With one last look at your reflection, you walked towards the door and opened it.

Seokjin was sat on the edge of the bed, legs sinfully spread (but oh so casually, which just made it hotter), but he wasn’t looking your way, his eyes darting around the room a little as if he was desperately trying to find some patience. Knowing he was riled and aroused made your head even more dizzy, and stopping by the doorframe, you called out to him.

He looked your way instantly, eyes bulging even quicker. Actually they practically popped out on storks as he took in the sight of you in the baby blue underwear. He seemed paralysed.

“Hey,” you smiled, all of a sudden feeling a little shy as you waited for him to say something.

It took another moment, but then he was swallowing hard, wetting his mouth as his lips parted. “Oh, shit.”

You smiled victoriously, those simple two words satisfying you fully.

He outstretched his hand, voice thick and raspy as he beckoned you forward. “Come here.”

You obeyed, closing the distance between you quickly and Seokjin wasted no time clasping his hands around your hips as you stood in front of him, between his legs. If felt so good to finally have his hands on your bare skin. His touch was warm, soothing, but most of all, electrifying. Goosebumps spread as he dragged his fingers up and down your sides, his eyes drowning at the sight of you.

“Do you like it? It’s not too much?” You asked, looking down at him. You glowed under his gaze.

He lifted his head up, arching an eyebrow. “Do I like it? Is that supposed to be a genuine question?” He sounded just as baffled as he looked and it made you giggle. His fingers started to play with the thin waistband of your panties before delicately outlining the lace flower petals on your ass. The sensation made you shiver, and a small smile grew on his face as he watched you. “You look gorgeous.” He leaned forward, beginning to place small, gentle kisses on your abdomen and your skin rippled, butterflies appearing. “You’re beautiful.” He murmured, hot puffs of air hitting you, heating you up even more.

You curled your hand in his hair, needing something to latch on to as you watched him mouth even more kisses along your flesh. The point of his tongue dipped into your navel scandalously, and as you gasped he looked up with his eyes and smirked, tongue now swirling invisible patterns along your stomach. The sight sent you a little gooey, legs feeling weak again as your heart thrummed inside your chest.

“However… I was looking forward to undressing you…” He teased.

You teased right back. “You still have the lingerie.”

He couldn’t handle that, growling quietly against your stomach, his hands rounding your ass to mould the flesh in his palms firmly. He’d soon tear the panties if he kept that up. Obviously the idea of stripping you naked sent him feral – something you’d remember well for this week. You yelped when you felt him sink his teeth into your hip bone, pulling him closer to your body by his hair, desperate for more. It was when you looked behind him, did you notice the pillar candles aflame on the two nightstands that sat either side of his bed. They weren’t burning before you’d entered the bathroom. You were sure of it.

“Seokjin, did you light candles?” You asked without realising, changing the atmosphere slightly, but you didn’t mind too much, not when the image of Seokjin rushing to burn candles for the ~ambience~ was too damn adorable.

He lifted from your skin, looking up at you. “Um, yeah.” He sounded a little awkward before he chuckled softly. “I thought against the slow R&B music.”

“Good choice,” you laughed, fingers rubbing small circles into the nape of his neck. That would’ve been hilarious.

“I’m totally out of my depth here…” He admitted, nudging you backwards a little to stand in front of you. He kept his hands on your waist, ducking down to be eye level with you. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

“Snap,” you grinned, rubbing your nose against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close. You kissed him deeply, feeling happy and relaxed. There wasn’t a nerve in sight and despite his honest words you knew he was at ease too.

Your hands slipped over his shoulders and down his toned chest, stopping just before the waistband of his pants to tug at his t-shirt, untucking him. “You have to get naked too.” You whined, detaching your mouths. “I’m feeling sorely underdressed.”

He let out an airy chuckle, immediately reaching for the neck of his shirt to tug it over his head. Your hands greedily started to explore his torso, running your fingers along his faintly lined abs before trailing up his hard chest. He shivered as you brushed against his nipples, a tiny laugh slipping from his throat.

“What?” You laughed.

“’Tickles.” He mumbled, leaning in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, loving the feeling of his bare chest against yours, but soon enough you got impatient again, hands reaching for the button of his pants. You popped it open and proceeded to unzip him, at least giving his poor erection some reprieve. It had been pressed up against your lower stomach for quite some time, still rigid but as patient as ever.

He took over, stepping back to push them past his hips, his lips still attached to yours. “Mm–Bed.” He hummed, taking you by the hips to switch places. You pulled away and sat down, watching him kick his pants off his feet and your eyes zoned in on the curve of his erection, hidden by his Armani underwear – black with a red waistband. His thighs were perfectly toned, his skim glowing in the soft lighting. He looked good enough to eat and your heart skipped a couple of beats as he walked forward.

You laid back against the mattress, instantly groaning at how soft it was. You practically sunk inside. “Oh, damn this is comfy.” Rolling onto your side as Seokjin climbed on the bed, you hid your smirk. “I could just go to sleep…”

“I don’t think so,” he told you, hovering over you. His hand smacked you ass causing you to squeal, and you flipped onto your back as he took the moment to cage you under his large body.

This time his mouth completely bypassed your lips to kiss your chest, pressing into the indents of your collarbones before slipping to the tops of your breasts. He kissed the fabric, wetting it as his tongue traced the delicate flower petals and you gripped onto his shoulders with a moan as he encased one nipple between his lips, sucking gently, soaking the lace a darker shade of blue. “You drive me crazy,” he quietly panted, his hands reaching behind your back, arched into the pleasure he was giving you. “May I?” He asked, fingers finding the clasp of your bra. You nodded hastily, moaning louder when he lifted his head to kiss your lips. His motions were firm, tight pleasure filled grunts leaving him as he freed you of your lingerie.

Immediately he pulled away, dark eyes soaking in your bare chest like it was the most stunning thing he’d ever seen. Your back arched further when his warm palms cupped your breasts, spreading a heat down your spine that settled between your legs. “You’re beautiful,” he awed, looking into your eyes, causing a sweet moan to fall from your lips.

He moulded the soft flesh gently, before brushing his thumbs over your hardened nipples. That had you moaning again, pleasure you hadn’t felt in a long time rocketing up your body. It felt amazing to be touched by him, and you were greedy for more. He was on the same page, his lips replacing his thumbs, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud that had you sighing out his name, your fingers threaded in his hair. He hummed against you, squeezing your breasts and pressing his body into yours – once – his erection pressing into your thighs, before he pulled away, kissing down your sternum before licking into your navel, his hands rubbing up and down the outside of your thighs.

His lips avoided your clothed heat, which was frustrating to say the least. You were so eager by now, unsure if you could take much more kissing before you exploded, but Seokjin was a man determined – determined on kissing every inch of your body it seemed. He made it down one thigh before moving onto the next and as he got towards your knee you couldn’t help but giggle – it was beginning to tickle, but he didn’t stop, lips pressing down your calf.

“Seokjinn,” you whined.

He chuckled as he made his way back up the other leg, bending you at the knee before gently getting you to spread out for him. “What?” He murmured. Although you were distracted now, realising how aroused you had become, your underwear clinging to you desperately. He was kissing the inside of your thigh now, fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties and he was so close to where you wanted him you were trembling. He nosed his way to the apex of your thigh, groaning as he smelt you and then he was hastily tugging the lace down your legs, the last of your covering. Now you were totally naked in front of him, and he looked like he wanted to eat you up.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, voice gruff. He sounded so sexy. His eyes were glued to your centre yet he didn’t touch. When you didn’t reply, they flickered to your face. “Y/N. Hm?”

You mind was a blur, you couldn’t think what to say, mainly because you wanted him to do anything and everything to you. You startled when he nosed the inside of your thigh, his hands sliding down your hips to grip the flesh underneath. “Taste you? Is that what you want?” He whispered, sending your insides somersaulting. He looked up as you nodded, and grinned. “You have to say it out loud, honey.”

The bastard. He was teasing you. Trying to get under your skin. Your forced yourself to speak. “Taste me.” He hummed in response, pressing his mouth to your hip bone. You raised your tone, more determined. “Seokjin. Taste me.”

He dived in. Placing gentle kisses up your slit, his lips ever so slightly brushing your clitoris. You moaned quietly, letting your eyes close as you laid back against the softest pillows you had ever felt. Your fists clutched the sheets, hips raising up when you felt the first wash of his tongue. Your breath caught, warmth turning you gooey. “Taste so good,” he mumbled into you – so quietly you wondered if you’d imagined it.

You enjoyed the sensation for a few moments, quietly moaning intermittently before you felt the urge to take a peek. Opening your eyes and looking down your body, you saw Seokjin watching you, his eyes hungry. You quickly looked away, the back of your hand coming up to cover your mouth as a groan left you, your legs falling wider apart. The scene had been erotic but in all honesty you were feeling a little shy. It had been a long time since you’d had sex, so the idea of someone watching you so intimately made you feel funny.

Seokjin was there to reassure you though. “Don’t look away, Y/N,” he murmured, pulling back to get your attention. “I want to see your face.” You looked again, watching him kneel low as he ran a hand up your thigh. His lips shone with your arousal. He looked beautiful.

You moaned lowly when you felt him rub a finger at your entrance, and he watched you intently as he pushed inside, feeling you squeeze around the intrusion. He slowly began to curve the digit, pressing against your inner walls. Committed to pleasuring you, he watched your every reaction and this time you didn’t look away.

“Does it feel good?” He asked, in awe as you writhed around on the bed, chasing the feeling.

You moaned as you replied yes, only to jerk upwards when his thumb began to rub tiny circles against your clit. “Seokjin!”

He liked that. Hearing you cry his name. He wanted to hear it more, dropping low to replace his thumb with his lips. He sucked the sensitive bud of nerves between them, flicking the tip of his tongue against it rapidly, earning him another cry, and he moaned gruffly against you, the vibrations shooting up your body. His free hand moved to your lower stomach, palm hot against your skin as he applied gentle pressure, holding you down.

Oh god, you were a mass of pleasure, mind addled, unable to think straight. Not when he was making you feel so good. He slipped a second finger inside of you, his eyes flicking up to yours and you made it your life’s mission not to look away, chest heaving up and down as you squeezed around his digits. Your orgasm was building, pressure below getting harder to control – harder to ignore. Seokjin guessed it, breaking eye contact to bury his face further into your heat. The image was almost crude, so were the noises, but the most beautiful kind of crude. A crude that had you desperate for more. You jerked into him, rolling into each snap of his wrist, the pads of his fingers grazing your g-spot.

“Want to make you cum,” he rasped, before sucking your clit back into his mouth and sucking determinedly. You groaned, head flinging back into the pillow, eyes clenched closed, a hand coming out to grip the roots of your hair as you rolled your hips into his face, giving into the pleasure well and truly. This orgasm was going to blow your brains out – and it did.

In the end you had you to clamp your legs around Seokjin’s head in a bid to get him to stop, pleasure still rolling through your body as you panted like crazy. He eased from your clit, tongue dragging down your folds instead, meeting his fingers that were almost locked inside of your pulsing walls. With a grunt, he removed himself, kissing your mound one last time before he stopped. With his hands on your thighs as he kneeled between them, he watched you adoringly.

“Oh, my god,” you panted weakly. Unsure what else you could say to describe what you’d just experienced. Why had he not been doing that from the get-go? From as soon as he’d reversed into your car?!

That was all he needed anyway, your simple vocalisation, because no sooner had the words exited your mouth, he dived on you, kissing your mouth, your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead – whatever he could reach. “You’re amazing,” he gushed, his lips and chin still glistening with your wetness. You could taste yourself on him. It was glorious. His hands roamed your body like it was all new to him. As if he hadn’t been it for the last forty minutes or so. “Fuck. I can’t stop touching you.”

Your stomach flipped around, the sound of him cursing sending you dizzy. You licked into his mouth, kissing him messily, your hands raking up and down his back, before they settled on his ass. You gave the meat a squeeze and he grunted, pushing his crotch into yours. He was painfully hard – and desperate. (You hadn’t missed the way he’d been rutting into the mattress while going down on you…)

“Seokjin,” you breathed, moving your head to the side to get your words out. His tongue carried on going, swirling across your cheek. You liked getting messy with him. You tugged at his underwear. “Get naked. Need you.”

“You don’t need a minute?” He asked, tongue now in your ear. He gyrated his hips into yours, grunting as he did so.

You shook your head. “Like hell I do.”

He laughed at that – breathlessly, but it was something. He moved, rushing out of the last bit of clothing he had on, and your eyes drunk up the sight. The missing piece. His dick was long and thick – smooth and warm once you got your hands on him. Hovering over you, you ran your fist up and down him steadily, just enjoying getting to touch him. He dropped to your side, pecking your lips before he pulled back. “I need to be inside you.”

You continued to touch him, running your fingers along the rigid flesh as he stretched behind him to pull a box from the nightstand drawer.

It caught your attention right away. You raised both eyebrows as you let go of his length. “A hundred condoms?”

He chuckled, sounding a little sheepish. “Too enthusiastic?”

“Do you want to kill me?” Death by (Dilf) dick wasn’t how you’d expected to go, if you were being honest.

“Not particularly,” he shrugged, pulling one of the packet. (Discarding the box to the floor.) He turned back to you with an impish grin. “That’s why I bought the bumper pack of condoms.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest, but he grabbed your hand and kissed you, distracting you successfully. “No, if I’m being truthful,” he continued, letting you steal another kiss. “They were better value for money. I’m partial to a bargain.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you scoffed.

“You should’ve seen me purchasing them, I have never been more embarrassed in my life.”

“Seokjin, you’re a near 40 year old man,” you judged openly, however on second thoughts – “But yeah, I’d be embarrassed buying a 100 condoms too.”

Seokjin shuddered, looking mortified. “Just the thought of the cashier knowing I was going to get lucky…”

You arched an eyebrow. “Get lucky?”

He looked comically caught out, eyes wide for a second before he shook his head. “Less talking now…” And then he was kissing you again…

Between rushed mouths and eager hands, he managed to tear the condom packet, pulling out the latex to slip it over his erection. Kneeling over you, you could see perfectly when he attempted to roll it the wrong way up. “Oh, shit. Ignore that,” he muttered, fixing it immediately.

You stifled a laugh. “Ignored.”

He gave himself a tug, making sure everything was secure and your mouth practically watered. “Just warning you now, this may be a three pumps and Bam! kinda thing,” he informed you as he laid over you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I am so turned on.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his middle. “I don’t mind. Just want you.”

“I want you more.” He rubbed his nose against yours.

Hitting his ass, you shot him a look. “It’s not a competition.”

“Isn’t it?” He asked, pretending to be confused.

“Quit stalling,” you whined. “Let’s have sex.”

“Let’s,” he agreed with a warm smile. You turned gooey instantly.

Pressing his knees to the mattress, he hovered over you, wrapping his hand around his dick to direct it between your legs. He rubbed the length up and down your slit, flesh heavy and hot, coating himself in your arousal. The sensation was good for you, but for him it seemed to blow his mind, eyes practically rolling back into his skull as he grunted. He stopped at your entrance, looking up at you as he slowly pushed the head inside.

You shifted under him, trying to stay patient. You wanted nothing more than to be stuffed full of him, but realistically you needed to take things slow. You held onto his shoulders, silently telling him to continue. He let out a strained groan as he slipped in deeper, your walls snug and hot around him, begging him for more. Inch by glorious inch, you kept on taking him, until you were filled up just right.

“Shit,” you uttered, looking up at the ceiling as you adjusted to the sensation.

“Was that a curse?” He asked, voice tight but greatly amused as he nosed your throat.

“Hardly.” Your voice was barely there, desperate for him to move.

“I’d still class it as swearing.” He was holding his breath, yet still felt the need to be a smarty-pants. You moved your hips practically a centimetre and he grunted. He didn’t want you to win though. “I want more. Maybe not tonight, but I will turn your mouth filthy by the end of the week…”

A moan tore from your throat uncontrollably, and you couldn’t look at his face because you knew you’d be met with a gloating smirk. You steeled yourself, nose in the air. “Game on.”

Seokjin laughed obnoxiously, but couldn’t wait any longer, slowly dragging out of you and then pushing back in. His breath hitched – so did yours, and he carried on, propping himself up with one hand as he gained a steady rhythm.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moaned, watching your face.

“You too.” You clung to him, feeling your face heat up and ended up dropping your gaze.

“Honey, don’t be shy,” he whined, reaching to cup your face, in the process pressing more of his body weight into you. You clutched him tighter, wanting him as close as ever. “I like watching you. Knowing I’m making you feel good.” His mouth on yours now, you sunk into the kiss, moaning softly as his thrusts got quicker. You met each one, rolling into him.

It wasn’t long before he was on your throat, kissing and nipping the skin, his hands exploring the rest of your body. Your ran your fingers through his hair, sighing sweety when his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, slipping the hard flesh into his mouth to suck.

Face pressed against your chest, his movements became a little erratic, breathing heavy until he was panting. You moaned along, loving how he was making you feel. “You are honestly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He awed, voice raspy.

You let out a weak chuckle, running your fingers through the ends of his hair. “Of course you would say that with a face full of my boobs.”

He laughed too, kissing his way back up your chest, his hands pressing into the pillow as he leaned in for your mouth. You stared at one another for a little while, your moans mingling together, and it was the most intimate moment you’d ever shared with anyone.

“Good?” He asked. You were unsure if he was asking how you were or if you were enjoying yourself, but regardless, the answer was the same.

“Really good,” you smiled, running your hand down his chest.

His thrust were getting messier, less controlled, less strategic, so it was no surprise when he had a confession to tell you, kissing you once again. “I’m-I’m… close.”

He’d exceeded the predicted three pumps at least… “Hey, you can go a little harder,” you whispered against his mouth.

He grunted, slacking at your words but quickly got a hold of himself. Each snap of his hips got firmer and harsher, fucking – because there was no other way to describe it – you into the expensive bed. Your cries of pleasure came out stunted and unsteady, his own grunts louder now, gruffer as he chased his end.

“Seokjin –!” Your hands fell to his ass, holding him tight as he pounded into you. “Don’t stop,” you encouraged, which seemed to tip him over the edge – quickly.

“Fuck. Coming…”” His face fell into the crook of your neck, panting as he tried to keep moving, and then he froze, his body hot, partly sweaty, a long drawn-out groan sounding against your ear as he came.

You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him to you because in all honesty, you didn’t want to let him go. You could feel his heart beating against your chest rapidly, even after he’d partially caught his breath, and you knew yours was beating just as fast. You kissed his shoulder when he kissed yours, and slowly he lifted his head, turning to give you a drunken smile. He sighed contently. “That honestly beats any orgasm I’ve ever given myself lately.”

“I should hope so!” You burst out laughing, not quite expecting those to be his first words and he immediately joined you before hugging you tight.

You awoke naturally, light from outside peeking through the loosely closed drapes. Seokjin had his arm around you, his body curved into yours, and you could tell by his breathing he was still very much sound asleep. Proving your point, he grunted softly, rolling onto his back, his grip on you loosening. Carefully, you turned around to face him, taking in the sight of his sleeping form. His lips seemed to be pouted, eyebrows furrowed slightly – of course he had an adorable sleeping face. Of fricking course.

The bed sheets were pushed down, draped across his pelvis, one hip sticking out, while his broad chest and toned stomach laid bare. You found yourself smiling, insanely happy, wondering if you’d been a saint in a past lifetime – you had to have been. How else had you hit the jackpot? A kind-hearted, beautiful man with a banging body? You’d struck big.

Wanting to leave him sleep longer, you got up quietly, needing to pee, not worrying that you were butt naked, and as you left the bathroom, you moved to the closet (room) to fish for your phone in your purse. You’d left it there all evening yesterday, not wanting to be interrupted, and low and behold you had a bunch of notifications waiting for you on the screen. You got back into bed, getting comfy before you scrolled through them. Most were unimportant, news updates and social media notifications. You had a text from your mom reminding you to call your grandmother soon, one reminder regarding your phone bill going out tomorrow and then, from half an hour ago, a text message from your best friend. Why the hell was she up so early on a Sunday?!

Soojung (8:32am) Spill the details girl! How was Mr. Dilf 🥵👨🏻🍆💦

You snorted, pretty loudly, couldn’t help it, and when you realised you shoved a hand over your mouth, hoping you hadn’t woken your boyfriend (yes, it felt so good to finally use that word) up. You glanced over, but his eyes were still shut, a peaceful look on his face, so with a relieved inner sigh, you went back to your phone, wondering how you should reply. You had quite a lot to say, messaging her “the details” wouldn’t work. Maybe you could give her a summary? Until tomorrow when you could call her while Seokjin was at work. Maybe you could meet her for lunch. And who knew, you’d probably have more to tell her come then –

“Good morning, beautiful.”

You jumped when you heard Seokjin’s voice, his arm wrapping around you once more as he snuggled closer, encasing you in his body warmth.

“Seokjin,” you greeted, instantly shoving your phone onto the nightstand, face down. “Good morning.”

“Mmm.” He rubbed his face into the crook of your neck, burrowing his arm under the covers to touch your skin, hand cupping your waist. He was still sleepy, voice groggy. You settled into his hold, closing your eyes. With a kiss to the top of your shoulder, he spoke again. “What were you snorting at?”

Your eyes immediately flew open. He’d heard that? “Nothing,” you tried to reply casually.

He laughed, the throaty sound shooting up your body, leaving warmth in its wake. “Come on, something made you laugh.” He lifted his head, looking at you pointedly, plump lips pressed together, mouth curving up slightly. “You have to share, it’ll be rude not to.”

It took you a second to give in. “Fine.” It was probably time to let him know anyway. Soojung might try to kill you, but she couldn’t get you if you were gated in at Seokjin’s home… You reached for your phone and flashed the screen on, holding it out to him. “Soojung’s an idiot,” you sighed.

He delicately held the back of your hand, steadying the device so he could read the messages. A second later he was deeply amused, lips quirking before he let out a little laugh. “Has that been my nickname the entire time?”

“Maybe…” Amongst other things… They could wait till later though.

He hummed, trying to keep his expression casual, but you could tell by his eyes how amused (and smug) he was. “The emojis add a nice touch.”

You rolled your eyes, about to tell him to shut up, but immediately his lips were pressed against yours. He kissed you sweetly – which was all just an act. When he pulled away, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, tone arrogant. “So… how was Mr. Dilf?”

“Seokjin!” You exclaimed. This couldn’t be happening. He was just as bad as Soo and Taehyung.

Laughing loudly, he kissed you again, caging you under him smoothly. Your hands reached for his biceps, feeling them flex underneath you. “Was it good enough for a round two? Don’t expect me to keep my hands off you,” he told you, his fingers tickling your stomach as his face fell to your neck, kissing and biting the skin.

You began to laugh, squirming under him, but no matter how much you tried to free yourself it was impossible. “Stop,” you whined. “Seokjin, you’re tickling me!” He eased off with the tickling but his mouth only seemed to ramp up, his tongue licking up your throat. “You’re so sexy,” he groaned, meeting your gaze, and instantly laughed. “I love embarrassing you.”

You grumbled, realising you’d started to blush. “I’m not embarrassed,” you insisted. “I’m turned on.” Two could play at that game. Seokjin’s eyes widened comically, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Yeah?” He murmured, getting a hold of himself, mouth ghosting over yours. You nodded, dragging your hands down his back to settle on his ass. You could feel his dick rousing between your thighs. It was so easy to get him. He was like putty in your hands.

“You’re okay though, mm?” He asked, tone softening as he stared into your eyes. “Did you enjoy last night?”

“I thought that was obvious,” you informed him, but his tenderness didn’t go ignored. God, you were really lucky. “I feel so happy,” you grinned, moving to clasp your arms around his neck. He grinned too, teeth on show, and then you couldn’t hold off any longer, kissing him eagerly.

“Fuck,” he breathed, after you’d just licked a strip up his jaw line. His hands clung to hips. “I want you in so many ways.”

You gave him a dangerous smirk. “We have all week, I’m sure you’ll be successful.”

Groaning, he seemed beside himself, skin hot and sweaty, his hair dishevelled, falling into his eyes, cheeks patched red. Finally, he settled on a decision. “Would you like to shower with me?”

“Okay,” you replied instantly, your excitement already tenfold, and suddenly you were in his arms, rising off the bed to be carried (naked) bridle style to the bathroom. “Seokjin!” You squealed, clinging onto him tightly, but all he did was laugh. You could get used to this.

His walk-in shower was grand, practically a separate wet room – two glass doors leading inside and a marbled tiled bench to the left with two panelled windows behind it. There were two showerheads – one large one attached to the ceiling and the other jutting out from the wall. Seokjin chose the centre one, knocking it on and enclosing you both in hot water. Warmth radiated from beneath your feet too – heated flooring, of course.

You spent the next ten minutes wrapped together kissing, hands exploring one another’s soapy bodies. It wasn’t long before there was a very obvious erection bobbing against your stomach. “Someone says hello again,” Seokjin hummed against your mouth, nipping your bottom lip before he broke away and chuckled. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’ve been the cause of many an awkward boner.”

You laughed, hooking one arm around his neck. “I noticed.” Your other hand wrapped around his dick, the wetness of his skin making it easy to glide your fist along the veiny shaft. You gazed up at him, admiring the way he’d pushed his wet hair above his forehead. He looked incredibly handsome – so handsome, you were finding it hard to control yourself. “Was this one of your ways?” You murmured.

“Maybe,” he said with a smile, huffing out a little when your thumb grazed the sensitive slit across the head of his member.

“I have a better idea…” You whispered, pushing a little at his chest. “Sit.”

He obeyed, sitting on the bench while watching you wordlessly (but curiously), his eyes flashing when you moved to kneel in front of him. “Fuck,” he muttered, dick twitching in anticipation. You took him in your fist again, feeling oddly confident as you flicked out your tongue. It had been a long time since you’d sucked dick but you were more than ready.

You washed your tongue across the head, hearing him grunt above you, and encouraged, you took him in your mouth, sucking firmly around the tip. His hands instantly reached for your head, fingers carding through your hair. He groaned lowly, thighs tense, but when you started to jerk your fist along his shaft, he relaxed into the pleasure, murmuring your name.

“Okay, this idea seems better than mine,” he admitted, voice tight.

You hummed in agreement, vibrations travelling up his length which made him groan, fingers in your hair tightening. Taking him deeper, you washed and swirled your tongue as best you could around the thick flesh. Seokjin’s length was impressive, but you had all week to grow accustomed to it, for now, you had your hand, continuing to stimulate him with both that and your mouth. The water from the shower hit your back and calves, the heat beneath you making sure you didn’t grow cold.

“Should we go back to the bedroom?” Seokjin asked, sounding concerned, despite how good you were making him feel. A hand ran down your back soothingly. “Your knees will start aching.”

Pulling off him, a string of saliva that attached you breaking apart, you shook your head and ran your palm all the way up his length, twisting against the tip. He bucked into your hold. “It’ll be worth it.”

Seokjin let out a low growl, eyes dark. “Don’t say things like that.”

You smirked, spreading your saliva up and down him slowly before speeding up, concentrating on the head. Seokjin’s mouth was open, his breathing shallow, chest littered with red blotches, making it painfully obvious how aroused he was. You wanted to run your hands all over the muscular torso, mouth too – but that could wait. First of all, you wanted to make him cum.

“You have a pretty big dick. Has anyone ever told you that?” You purred, eyes flicking down to his crotch.

Seokjin grinned confidently, the hand in his hair reaching to cup your cheek. “You seemed to handle it very well last night.”

Oh. Heat exploded through your body, settling between your legs, and you took him back in your mouth, a hiss leaving his throat. He tapped your chin, gaining your attention. “Y/N, look at me,” he commanded softly.

And you did. You watched every bit of pleasure that flitted across his face as you continued to suck his dick, never breaking eye contact, even when he did; eyelids closed, face scrunched up as he came down your throat a few minutes later…

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjin smut #bts smut #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #bangtansorciere #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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babesonly · 4 years ago

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fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS.

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny.

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

An ethics lesson from Hell

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want?

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god.

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #mine

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agntofhydra · 4 years ago

Text

Sawbones // TWO

(gif credit)

summary: Red String of Fate Soulmate AU

Soul mates have a red thread tied to each others pinkies that only one of them can see.

You’re the Resistance’s head medic. You can see the red thread of fate that leads you to your soulmate. Poe doesn’t believe in the soulmate / thread theory. You don’t agree with his tactics, nor does he approve of yours. Leia and Holdo just really want a win.

pairing: poe dameron x reader

rating: mature for later chapters

read me on ao3!

part one here!

read on till the end for notes!

SAWBONES

TWO // PULLED TAUGHT

No.

You hadn’t been avoiding him.

You were busy. Taking inventory, filling out incident reports, stocking, taking care of your patients - which, you noticed, had decreased in number over the last couple days. And you knew why.

Someone must’ve been taking better care of their pilots.

Jasti was released the morning after the whole - for lack of a better term - ordeal. She’d heard your violent retching and had banged on the door, asking if you were okay.

Your vision was white, and after about two rounds you were dry heaving. No fucking way, your mind rattled. The revelation shook you to your core. You were happy being unsuspecting, ignorant of the fact that your soulmate had been pittering around D’Qar for literal months while you sat in your office, pissing off FX-7 and berating their antics in your head. The furrow of his eyebrows, the flicker of concern in his eyes at your sudden change in demeanor when you saw his pinky also had ingrained itself in your mind. Lingered every time you shut your eyes. You must’ve stayed in the refresher for an hour or two, senses numbed to Jasti’s incessant banging on the door.

You also weren’t good with conflict, and a conflict this was indeed.

What were you supposed to do? Tell him? Would he even believe you? Ziff said he didn’t trust the concept anymore, too many girls taking advantage of where he once was soft. Exploited that weakness until it was solid beskar.

So no, you didn’t tell him.

You’d stayed busy. He was busy, too. Per your objections, Leia had him and his squadrons flying more recon and actually formulating a real operation to investigate the cargo ship orbiting around Kessel. You’d heard that from whispers in the hallway, and you didn’t really want to venture out for any updates.

Turns out, you wouldn’t have to.

As if your thoughts had summoned him, Poe was dragging a pilot from blue squadron into your medbay, one of their arms around his shoulder, one of his around their waist. His eyes were searching, panicked until they met yours as you flew from your office and threw the pilot onto the first open bed.

“What happened?” You asked, immediately checking for vitals. His skin was burning, clammy. FX-7 recorded his temperature and your heart dropped at the number.

“We were flying back, literally leaving hyperdrive when I was notified Blue Three was having trouble, and could barely steer his x-wing through D’Qar’s orbit.” Poe paused. “His skin is on fire.”

“I’m aware,” you tried not to bite back as you threw FX-7 an IV bag. You also did not dwell on the fact that Poe didn’t even know this pilot’s name. “Do we have hadeira serum?”

“You did inventory,” FX-7 duly responded as he inserted a needle into the pilot’s basilic vein. Poe cringed and looked away, eyes focused on you instead.

You hadn’t really done inventory, and you were cursing yourself for it now.

“Wait,” Poe frowned. “Hadeira? You think he’s got bloodburn?”

“He’s been in with a fever before,” you muttered as you rifled through the cabinet on the opposite wall. Poe followed, barking over your shoulder.

“And you didn’t ground him?”

You paused, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before returning to your search. You really didn’t need Dameron on his high horse right now, questioning your calls.

It was only fair. You had done it to him, you reminded yourself. That didn’t mean you couldn’t whip around and land one in the middle of his chiseled, ridiculously handsome and symmetrical face. You groaned audibly at not only your thoughts, but your inability to locate the literal life-saving serum.

“Back off, Dameron,” you said between your teeth as you all but sprinted back into your office where you kept the more valuable medicines. You unlocked the closet behind your desk with your hand and entered, eyes scanning the shelves. Once again, Poe followed.

“What’s wrong, doc? Don’t like it when people question your authority?”

You finally turned to him, slightly put off by the fact he was less than a meter away. You didn’t let it show.

“You wanna do this right now?” You raised your eyebrows. He crossed his arms over his chest and the thread around his pinky was directly in your field of vision. You held back the bile that rose in the back of your throat.

“His fever is so high that his blood is boiling right now. Which will kill him. So please, Dameron. If you think this argument is worth more than me finding the serum and saving his life,” you punctuated each word, “keep talking. But I’m not listening.”

Your eyes caught the vials to the right of his head, and he stepped out of the closet and into the expanse of your office as you grabbed the vials and quickly returned to the medbay where FX-7 had started hydrating the pilot. You handed the droid the hadeira serum and FX-7 made quick work of administering.

You let out a long breath. You weren’t totally in the clear, but it was as under control as it could be. Poe gave you a look and you nodded, silently telling him his pilot was okay. For now.

Poe stared at him for a couple moments longer, and once he was satisfied leaving him in the care of FX-7, he kicked your boot lightly.

“Can we talk now?”

Swallowing thickly, you nodded and led him back into your office. Poe sat down in one of the stark white chairs that matched the rest of your office as you locked the medicine closet. You turned around to him but kept your distance.

“What’s there to talk about?”

He bit the inside of his cheeks to keep him from grinning. “I don’t bite, y’know.”

You rolled your eyes, but nonetheless moved closer to him and sat atop your desk.

The red thread floated between the both of you, moving as if it was being jostled by the air currents in the room. Before you could even think, your left hand went to pluck at the string tied near the base of your finger. To your utmost surprise, the now tangible string pulled back due to your force. You let go in shock. The string vibrated and you watched the movement travel to shake the thread connecting to Poe. He coughed, left hand clenching and unclenching his fingers. You watched the action and met his eyes. Once again, he furrowed his brows.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

It was your turn to furrow your brows, and Poe continued, “Y’know. Looking into space and then turning pale like there’s a rancor in here that I don’t see. And then you look at me like it’s my fault?"

It’s now or never, you told yourself. Come clean.

“It’s nothing.” Coward.

Poe dropped the subject. “Anyways, you must’ve been swamped these last few days because you haven’t checked in to hear any updates on the cargo ship.”

Not trusting your voice, you just shrugged as your eyes rested back on the crimson that connected the two of you. Seeing it was definitely a curse. You tried not to dwell on how different things would be if it was Poe that could see it. What a weight off your shoulders that would be.

Maybe if he could see it, it wouldn’t be you on the other end, the voice in head told you. Poe was still rambling about Kessel and you definitely weren’t listening. You don’t want that, do you? For him to be soulmates with someone else?

It happened all the time though, people ending up with those who they weren’t tethered to. The galaxy was far too huge and vast, many people never having the opportunity to leave their home planet, let alone venture and seek out their soulmate. Some people, Poe included now, saw it as a myth, it was becoming so rare. You’d only ever known one pair of soulmates to meet in the years you’d been alive. Your parents.

Either way, your mind needed to slow down. You didn’t know Poe. From what you’ve seen of him, despite his impeccable physical features, you weren’t really a fan. But...just regarding his physical features? Big fan.

He snapped you out of your reverie. “Stars, you are infuriating.”

You apologized, placing your hands in the front pockets of your medic coat in hopes to ignore the thread, but it stuck out of the material of your pocket instead.

“There’s no harm in collecting more intel,” you told him. “Especially if it saves lives.”

He rubbed his forehead. “There is if it’s time sensitive! The ship could leave Kessel at any moment and then we’ll never know what was on it.”

You snorted. “You said it’s been in your knowledge for a while, been written off until now. I don’t buy it. I don’t know what you’re wanting from me, Dameron, but I won’t apologize. This is how I feel, and General Organa and Vice Admiral Holdo agree with me.”

“I want a common ground,” he said. Your gut twisted. “We met not ten minutes before you blasted me to pieces in that briefing room.”

“I don’t think you’re used to opposition.”

“I’m not.”

“You should always consider every point of view, especially for things like this. Have you heard about the terror running the First Order? You really want to face him in your little x-wing?”

Poe jerked his head. “Do not insult my ship.”

“Stars, Dameron, can you listen to a voice that isn’t your own for five seconds?”

“I was listening, obviously, ‘cause I heard your jab about my ship.” You could force-choke him right now. “But I get where you’re coming from. Where you’re more conservative and safe, I’m intuitive and risky and you hate it,” he said with a smile that met his eyes.

“I would call it impulsive and ill-informed,” you countered. You definitely didn’t hate bantering with him. You noticed subtly that over the course of the conversation, Poe had begun to move closer to you, inching closer and closer to the edge of the chair.

“Astute and adept,” he stood, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes never left yours.

“Reckless and arrogant.” You didn’t want him to come any closer, unsure if you would either retch all over his shoes or bunch up the material of his brown leather jacket in your grip to pull him closer.

As if the stars were listening and answered, FX-7 appeared in the doorway. Your eyes broke from Poe’s, turning your attention to the droid and Poe followed suit.

“Pilot Nunb’s fever has broken,” it said. “He will make it through the night.”

Night? You realized you’d been so consumed the last couple days you’d lost all concept of time.

“Great news,” Poe said, turning from FX-7 back to you. “I need to go tell the rest of blue squadron.” Poe shamelessly looked you up and down.

“‘Till next time, Doc.”

Poe sidestepped the droid in the doorway without another glance at you. You remained on your desk, hands still in your pockets as you watched the thread disappear into the wall as Poe left.

“It is hardly relevant to speak in matters that pertain to humans,” FX-7 began, “let alone ones that concern my superior, but if I may?”

You couldn’t hide your confusion. FX-7 never spoke to you unless it was a medical matter. You nodded for him to go ahead.

“You are consumed with plenty. I caution against adding Commander Dameron to the list.”

You frowned. “FX, do you know about the soulmate thread?” What harm would it be to tell a droid? FX barely talked to you, and chances were zero that the droid would air this to anyone else.

The droid lifted its metal head up and down. “Yes.”

It was the most humanistic the droid had ever been, and you felt mildly miffed. Has FX-7 always been able to not be so robotic? You’d save that thought to be pissed about another time.

“I can see it,” you said quietly. “It’s tied to him.”

FX-7 was silent, motionless for a few moments and it almost seemed like he had powered down. “That is…” he paused. “Inconvenient.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said, hopping down from your desk. Your hands left your pockets to run through your hair as you tried to clear your thoughts and just breathe.

“Is that why you have busied yourself more than usual?”

“Didn’t wanna deal with it,” you nodded. “Still don’t.”

“That will only prove to make things more arduous. You have two options when it comes to Commander Dameron, and you know which I favor. For the good of the Resistance and your work.” FX-7 then left the doorway to your office as promptly as he had arrived.

✗ ✗ ✗

You fell asleep in your office that night, or maybe it was morning by the time you collapsed against your desk. Despite FX-7’s confirmation, you couldn’t let yourself go back to your quarters when the pilot in your medbay was teetering on the cusp of cardiac arrest.

Leia Organa woke you by softly brushing the hair out of your face. Your head lifted instantaneously, a paper stuck to your cheek. You quickly removed it and smoothed down the rest of your hair to at least try and look presentable.

“General,” you regarded her, standing up from your seat. She smiled softly at you.

“Doctor, I apologize for waking you.”

You shook your head and tried not to wince when you peeked at the digital numbers glaring at you upon the wall.

“I needed to be awake, anyways. I’m late for rounds,” you muttered the last part to yourself.

“I came to update you on the operation,” she moved back around your desk and sat down in the seat Poe had occupied only a few hours prior.

“We’ve received intel that the TIE fighters stationed in front of the ship are no longer there, presumably to return to the First Order to refuel or receive maintenance. It’s a narrow window, but Commander Dameron and both Red and Blue squadrons have departed a few hours ago to hopefully investigate that cargo ship.”

You nodded at her words and contained the frown from surfacing on your face. Your stomach knotted, fearing that the absence of First Order protection was all too convenient, and they were falling into a trap.

The First Order was smart, something you had learned first hand. You’d been on their radar for as long as you could remember. The bad guys needed medics, too.

Some of your peers that you had completed medical school with had left to join, and ultimately you couldn’t blame them. The offer was tempting, yet mostly threatening. Most of them joined more out of fear than anything. You had been moments away yourself, but instead you were here. On D’Qar. A vital part of the Resistance. If you were someone who believed in such phenomena, you would swear the galaxy itself had made sure of it.

“Have you heard anything since they left?” You asked.

Leia shook her head, trying to hide her worried expression. “They’re in good hands. Poe is the best pilot I’ve seen since…” She stopped herself. “He’s the man for this.”

“So I’ve heard,” you said. “I hope he proves me wrong. And also brings every pilot back in one piece.”

“Together, I think you two would make quite the formidable pair.”

“With respect, General,” you tried not to snort at her words. “I think it’s better if we keep our distance. Our stubbornness might tear a rift in the galaxy.”

“Or,” she winked. “It could bring it together.”

You had no response.

“I’ll be back should there be any word from Poe, and - “

Leia’s words were cut off by the familiar screech of a x-wings cutting into the atmosphere and landing on the runway.

Wordlessly, the two of you all but sprinted from the medical wing out into the open, expansive area that was the runway. Countless others were surfacing outside, watching the ships land and be courted off into the hangars for repairs. From what you could tell, they all looked fine. No exposed wires or blaster burns. For the most part, the squadrons looked untouched. The last ship to land was Poe’s black and orange T-70.

The second the x-wing was stopped, Poe all but threw himself from the cockpit, shucking his helmet off and chucking it at the ground. BB-8’s body blurred as the droid tried to keep up with his long, quick strides. His eyes met Leia’s first, immediately spurning his feet to turn in her direction. When he eventually realized you were also next to her, his eyes all but physically set you on fire.

You held your breath as he crossed the runway. Poe looked downright dangerous, he was so angry. Leia noticed this too, but did not change her demeanor as she waited patiently for him to come to her, hands clasped behind her back.

“Mission report, Commander Dameron,” she said.

“Can we discuss this somewhere else?” Poe asked as he stopped walking, finally reaching his destination. BB-8 rolled up a second later. His eyes flicked to yours.

“We can, but the Doctor will be there regardless.”

Poe wanted to scream.

“The mission went as smoothly as expected. We were met with no First Order resistance or ambush as we docked and investigated the cargo ship.”

“And what did you find?”

Poe took a deep breath, calming his heartbeat that was deafening in his ears. His fists clenched and unclenched, and unfortunately the thread was still there. Except this time, it was pulled taught between your bodies when it usually sagged with slack.

“We found spice, General.”

Oh.

Maybe you did believe in some higher power. There had to be someone pulling the strings behind this scenario. You wanted to laugh, point your finger and tell him ‘told you so’. But you didn’t, because the tension and anger in Poe’s body was so apparent that it looked like he was a chain pulled so tight it wasn’t a matter of if, but when he would snap.

So you settled for pursing your lips very tightly.

“Nothing else to report?” Leia questioned.

Poe shook his head.

“I’m glad you all made it back safe,” she said, putting her hand on Poe’s shoulder. “It was one mission, Poe. There will be other opportunities.”

He nodded, not meeting her eyes as Leia took her leave. The two of you stood in intolerable silence and you weren’t sure why Poe didn’t immediately sprint off as soon as Leia left.

“I’m glad everyone made it back safely,” you spoke slowly, offering a metaphorical olive branch.

Poe cocked his head, eyes narrowing as he met yours. You braced yourself, waiting for him to maybe pull out his blaster and take you out on the spot.

“Save it,” he said, though his voice didn’t hold the venom you expected. “Do you want me to tell you that you were right?”

You shrugged. “Not required, but I’m not against it.”

He did not accept your poor attempt at lightening the mood. Instead, he sighed deeply and dragged a hand down his face.

“I look like a complete joke . Making such a big deal out of this whole operation, only to be completely and utterly wrong.” He laughed dryly, and you tried not to wince.

“But you know who was right? A fucking medic. The holier-than-thou doctor who doesn’t ever leave her medbay, but the one time she does she completely undermines everything.”

Of course, it was your fault. Poe didn’t want to face the fact that his lack of patience and impulsiveness had forced him and his whole squadron to investigate a cargo ship full of spice. Against your better judgement, you let him continue his diatribe. He continued, berating your position, your lack of expertise and inability to, how did he put it? Stay out of matters that don’t pertain to you. He seemed to have forgotten the minute detail that Holdo had asked for you to be there, even though you reminded him of that fact last night.

After a ridiculous amount of time, Poe eventually stopped to catch his breath. As soon has he did, he tried to continue.

“Not to mention - “

You cut him off. “Are you done?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I could go on all day.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m sure you could. Because you absolutely have the right to completely tear me down when we met for the first time a couple days ago.”

“I’ve heard enough about you,” Poe countered.

“As have I,” you clenched your jaw. “Your reputation precedes your rank, Dameron. You really think you’re going to earn respect and trust around the base when you’re running through every female here? You think that speaks well of your character? You think that’s Commander behavior?”

Poe interlaced his hands on the top of his head as he laughed at you incredulously.

“I can’t even stand to breathe the same air as you right now,” Poe said.

How fucking immature. You narrowed your eyes. “Then stop breathing.”

At your words, the red thread tightened around your finger painfully. So tight, it felt as though it was about to cut through and remove the finger entirely. Your other hand rubbed at your finger - desperately, futilely trying to loosen the string.

Poe watched your action, and then sucked in a breath through his teeth as he grasped as his own pinky in pain. He noticed his movements mirrored yours.

“Wha-” he paused. “Wait - “ Two pieces clicked in Poe’s brain.

But it didn’t matter, because you were already retreating, your steps quick and purposeful. You were fleeing back to the medbay and away from whatever was about to come out of Poe’s mouth. You couldn’t deal with it, not now and probably not ever.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes watched your hands before watching his own, his forehead creasing with confusion, then what you hoped wasn’t realization. You didn’t think your actions obvious, but if he felt the same pain you did, it was impossible not to notice.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, your mind spiraled. Poe called your name, your actual name, but you were too far gone and nothing short of the force would make you go back to him.

This time, your interaction with Poe Dameron didn’t end with emptying your guts in the refresher, but by entering your office and locking it.

Small victories.

thank you all so so so much for all the positive feedback and support!! i love it!!! i’ve gotten a couple requests for a tag list so if you’d like to me to create one / be added to it just send me a message! also, if i made a playlist for this, would y’all be interested? lmk! xoxo.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #soulmates #soulmates au #red thread soulmates #red thread of fate #medic!reader #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy #mine #slow burn #romance #pre-TFA

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launchpadthai · 4 years ago

Text

Heliotropism [a Fethsteel fanfic] 1/?

Summary: Fethry finds Steelbeak in a bad state and gladly nurses him back to health. Genre: Fluff, bonding, platonic intimacy. Confident!Fethry and Humbled!Steelbeak I just want these two to interact so badly Q_Q Rating: G Word count: 1500ish

Notes: AU where Steelbeak is washed to sea instead of saved by F.O.W.L from S3E3. Shout out to whoever posted that prompt first and to Mighty-Ant’s oneshot fic with the same prompt for the inspiration! I consumed all the Fethsteel I could find, a lot of other people’s head canons and ideas inspired this so if something looks familiar, it’s cause it is lol. There’s plenty more written roughly, just need to polish it up. I really like Fethry’s comic personality so I leaned more towards it. Also AU rules, the Sublab didn’t get blown up. **No beta and I haven’t written fanfic in years so if you see anything written weirdly feel free to correct me! I’ve been sitting on it for months but if I don’t post it now I never will okay thank u

The absolute pure darkness of say, the depths of a cave or the middle of a forest during a new moon was something Steelbeak was use to. Dim lights in a hidden base, or the cheap lights of a jail cell were almost homey to him. Almost.

So when he woke up in an unknown dim room, he didn’t feel the need to panic. Though, his head did hurt more than usual as he sat up slightly and reached up to rub it and was interrupted by a small tug. He looked over to see an IV needle stuck in the crook of his arm so reflexively, he reached to pull it out. “It’s just water.” Said a voice, cutting through the dark. Steelbeak tried to blink the sleep from is eyes, only able to make out a small blob of a body walking towards him. With another bag of clear fluid, a duck with a red hat appeared. “I don’t have anything fancier than that.” His tone was weirdly upbeat, or so Steelbeak thought, considering his situation. He tensed and a sharp pain shot through his chest, making him groan and the other bird paused mid step. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” He put his hands up and spoke in a casual, yet jolly tone. “I’m Fethry, we found you in the ocean.” “We?” Steelbeak meant to say out loud but nothing came out. Anxiety began to bubble as he realized he couldn’t open his beak. He grabbed at it, trying to pry it open but it didn’t budge. He cursed Heron and the duck at the lighthouse but Steelbeak knew it was the buzzards. What he didn’t know, was if it was a malfunction or if the remote had that kind of range. Either way, it was annoying.

He punched at his beak a few times before falling back into the bed roughly, immediately regretting it as more sharp pains exploded in his chest. Fethry openly winced, watching as Steelbeak curled up and grabbed fistfuls of blankets to ease the pain while trying to catch his breath as much as he could through a closed beak.

“Okay, so that isn’t normal then. I tried to get it open myself but thought you just had that strong of a jaw.” Fethry walked to the bed while chuckling. Steelbeak let him get closer, but knew he could still take the bird out if he tried anything funny, even in his current state. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got a cracked rib, maybe broken?” Fethry spoke calmly. “You’re severely dehydrated too.” He switched the bags quickly, stepping back to give the larger bird room once more.

Steelbeak caught his breath, stopping the tunnel vision enough to scan the room. He was in a small bed that looked out of place compared to the rest of the area. Some kind of lab with big windows that were pitch black, save for some small dim lights that seemed to be floating around...Wait what? Were those Christmas lights? Was he in space? Steelbeak squinted and Fethry followed his gaze. “They’re bio-luminescent krill.” He said through a smile. “They were worried about you.” ‘They?’ Steelbeak’s expression spoke out loud. “We were the one’s that found you. You’re lucky you were so close to the lab.” He waved lightly, looked over to Steelbeak and tossed his head sideways a bit, motioning to the window. Without thinking, Steelbeak put his hand up and also waved lightly, a small gesture to the krill. They both looked into the sparkling, floating abyss in silence, the only noise coming from a generator. Somewhere down the empty halls, a light flickered and there was a groan, the sound of steel under pressure. The lab seemed to breathe, humming a metallic lullaby.

Steelbeak tried to fight off the exhaustion, his eye lids grew heavy but he lost the battle. Sinking back into his pillow, he fell asleep so fast he almost missed Fethry bringing the blankets back up to his chin.

Steelbeak didn’t know how long he slept. He was keeping track of the dream to nightmare ratio but lost the numbers when his eyes opened for the first time without a headache in...who knows how long? He was still in the same bed in the corner of the same lab but it was bright, like noon and Fethry greeted him even brighter, like the sun itself. Oh, that’s who knows how long. Steelbeak sighed but flinched slightly when Fethry got closer and jolted his arms out. “What’s your name?” He wiggled the marker and pad, a motion for Steel to take them.

He spent a little too long writing his name and when Fethry got the pad back, he stifled a laugh at the wobbly lines of “STEELBEAK.” Steel furrowed his eyebrows, sat up straight, and immediately curled forwards from the pain in his chest. Not the first time bravado had hurt him. “You seem more like a man of action anyways and I’m really good at Charades.”

Fethry was able to rig up a device that could fit through a small hole on the side of Steelbeak’s mouth so he could eat, but not before some convincing that Fethry needed to drill said hole. ‘I’m gonna kick this guy’s butt when I feel better.’ He thought through the vibration of the drill as it distorted his vision, making Fethry a fuzzy blur. It was quick, like a piercing, but soon he had the taste of something like gravy hitting his tongue and his body lurched, feeling desperately hungry. He swiped the tube from his hands with malice and Fethry just giggled as Steel poured another cup of the liquified food in the funnel and crouched in the corner, facing away from the small bird. “You’ll have your energy back in no time! I’ll run you a bath.” Fethry put a lid on the liquified food and left, humming a soft tune. Steelbeak brought his legs closer to his chest, trying to shrink even smaller, away from the whole world. Fethry was the smaller bird, so why did he feel like he was?

As soon as he had enough energy to walk on his own without getting winded, Steelbeak did what every sane person who was held hostage did. He tried to break out. Every exit was met with loudly painted warning signs though and he had to talk himself out of swimming to the surface a couple times. Whenever he hit a dead end or his stomach started growling, he’d heave a sigh, go back to the designated lab room, crawl into the bed and ignore Fethry while he did...whatever it was he was doing. One day he was placing lab equipment in a big cart when Steel walked in after another failed attempt and collapsed on the bed. ”I can use a different bathroom so you don’t have to walk so far, you know, if you really need privacy.” Steelbeak’s face flushed as he sat up quickly, flung his head around and scowled at Fethry. He just cackled and pushed the cart out. “I’m just kidding!”

Steel felt confident when he finally found a room with what looked like escape pods on the outside of it. So he opened the nearest hatch, and almost drowned again.

As he floundered in the flooding room, his hands on the ceiling, he took what he thought was his last breath, when the alarms stopped blaring and a big metal plate slid over the hatch, stopping the deluge. The water drained quickly at multiple grated pipelines and Steel floated down, collapsing on his hands and knees, attempting to catch his breath through his nostrils. That had to be the most annoying part about his locked beak. That, and the fact he couldn’t eat, or talk, or do anything. He heard a door slide open and a pair of webbed feet met his vision. He kept his head down and prepared himself for a verbal assault. “There’s always the front door.” Fethry said, his voice playful. Steelbeak looked up, admiring his casual stance. A confidence shone from Fethry that Steel craved his own body felt again. One hand was in his coat pocket, the other held out a towel towards the crouched bird. “I can take you up to shore, you’re not a prisoner.” Steel hesitated, accepted the towel, then sat back on his heels and buried his face in it. He learned early on in life he had to take and fight for what he wanted, the simplicity of “asking” blew over his head. He felt silly. He was going to feel embarrassed for the rest of his miserable life, wasn’t he?

“Do you have a way to unlock your beak out there?” Steel shook his head in the towel. He could face F.O.W.L again, but his communicator was probably lost at sea. Any real reason to contact them was slowly flowing down the drains with the last trickle of the unwelcomed sea water, and having to beg for his spot back sounded more awful that usual. It actually sounded so bad, it was the last thing he wanted to do. “I did some research and studied your beak so I ordered some reverse magnets.” Steelbeak looked up from the towel at the smaller bird. “Stick around for a bit, underwater parcel delivery is inconsistent but they should be here any day. I can help you override that lock.” All of Fethry’s weight was on one foot, both hands in his pockets and Steelbeak was baffled by the laid back stance. To place the cherry on top of Steelbeak’s confusion, Fethry shrugged nonchalantly, and said, “If you want.”

Steelbeak organized his thoughts. Fethry had yet to do anything to Steelbeak that warranted danger, he was just nice, right? This is what nice people did? With a lost expression, Steel looked back up to Fethry, who smiled again and reached a hand out. “Can I show you my favorite part of the lab?”

Part two

#fethsteel #Fanfic #fethry duck #ducktales

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the-cookie-of-doom · 4 years ago

Note

Good morning! Whats your favorite show/movie? Who are your favorite characters? Why do you like them so much? Also!! Did you have a good sleep?

Okay so I was a film major for a while, and I have opinions.

Penny Dreadful

I love this show. Like, so much. I adore it. I can not get enough of that show. Just all of the imagery, and the fantastic writing and acting. The episode intro alone is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Eva Green is a goddess and I love everything she’s been in. The take on classic horror stories is So Good, and it actually became the inspiration for my Gay Frankenstein story! (Started as a stitch AU, and then went completely OC after I had Ideas) but the show itself is so intimate? I think it’s largely that the period they’re in, everything was so repressed and restricted. So when the characters break out of those moments, it’s more meaningful. And the love-hate relationship between Ms. Ives and Malcolm in season one? Exquisite. I could literally write essay’s about this show, but I’ll restrain myself and just say: it’s the best ensemble show I’ve ever seen. The characters come together, but they also each have their own distinct lives that sometimes intersect, but in s2 especially, are quite separate. They are constant with one another like ensemble shows usually portray. Also gothic horror and romance? My absolute favorite.

Anything by Guillermo del Toro

This man Owns My Entire Soul. I’m not even joking, everything he writes and directs is perfection. Crimson Peak is probably my favorite (I have a stitch AU for this too ;) ) because again, Gothic horror and romance. I’m a slut for that shit. Also Tom Hiddleston and Jessica Chastain? Delightful casting. I think it’s obvious by now that I love tragic relationships, so their dynamic is *chef’s kiss* amazing. they’re so damaged. And this quote right here is one of the BEST things I’ve ever read:

“But the horror... The horror was for love. The things we do for love like this are ugly, mad, full of sweat and regret. This love burns you and maims you and twists you inside out. It is a monstrous love and it makes monsters of us all.”

Engrave that on my headstone, please?? I’ve got a sort-of Dorian Gray AU (it’s delightful) that’s basically built on this entire premise. Mitch makes the mistake of falling in love with Stiles, and does many terrible things because of it. Mostly to himself, at least.

I think my love of Crimson Peak is very closely tied with The Shape of Water. another beautiful movie, I could wax poetic about this forever. it was beautifully written, and such an artistic movie. I love the way it was filmed, and the set design, and all of the subtle imagery. Such as Elisa’s apartment being cast in cooler tones, it always felt very damp and had evidence of water damage, compared to Giles’, a mirror image of her own, in more warm tones. This is another one I could (and have) write essays about. There is so much packed into this movie, from the themes on toxic masculinity and entitlement, to the conversation on queerness and race and disability, and how all the various relationships are portrayed. Like. there is so much to pick apart in this movie.

Aside from that, ofc Hell Boy deserves an honorable mention because i grew up on those movies. I’m pretty sure the Golden Army especially is responsible for who I am today, given all the lore on the fae in that universe. Wow, that explains so much about me... Also one of my first WoW characters was an elf named Nuala xD I still have her, too, and it’s been like 12 years lol

Near-Future Sci-Fi

Sci-fi is one of my favorite genres, I am a huge nerd for theoretical and astrophysics. But my favorite kind of sci-fi is the stuff that still takes place on Earth, rather than epic battles in space. Ex Machina and Annihilation are at the top of that list. Alex Garland is another writer/director that I love. He has the same kind of approach as del Toro, where he puts a lot of fine details into his work. And I love that it’s very cerebral; there are so many layers to Ex Machina. My English 101 prof actually refused to analyze it in class when I suggested it to him, because he didn’t think my class could. Basically handle? Dissecting that movie? Because a lot of it comes across as very surface level, but in some cases when you look deeper, it’s actually suggesting the opposite of what you might think at first glance. (And he was right, my fellow students were awful. I miss that class though, it was one of my favorites T_T Mr. Ryder was an awesome dude and super chill.)

Morgan is another good example. As you can see, I fucking love androids lol. Which brings me to another of my all time favorite movies: Cloud Atlas. I could literally watch this movie endlessly, I love it so much. The acting, the writing, the filming, all of it is top notch. And one thing they did in the movie that didn’t come across in the book, was reusing the same actors through the different eras in the book. That was just so neat, because it really encapsulates how connected these souls are, as we follow the threads of their story throughout time. If you haven’t seen the movie, I can’t recommend it enough.

Another one I always think of alongside Cloud Atlas, even though they aren’t related at all, is Predestination. It’s a great movie that explores the idea of fate and free will in a really clever way, utilizes time travel in a very organized way that I think was neat (think Umbrella Academy. They even use briefcases! As you can see, I love sci-fi bureaucracy, it’s fun. In fact The Bureau is another movie I enjoyed) and the main character is actually, explicitly trans, which was cool. You basically get to see the entire story of their life, and I don’t want to spoil anything, but it’s just. So good. Mindfuckery galore.

Shoot, and I almost forgot! Arrival! That is one of the best movies, and another one I could watch nonstop. It focuses on mathematics and linguistics and I swear to god, I almost altered my entire college course because of this movie. Amy Addams is brilliant, Jeremy Renner is so soft and nerdy, and again, it has an amazing take on time travel. I am very particular about how time is handled in Sci-fi, and this portrayal was one of my favorite. (Most of my physics studies have been dedicated to the theory of time, so like. Strong Opinions.)

Fantasy

Stardust! It wasn’t until Good Omens can out that I realized Neil Gaiman is responsible for most of the stories I loved as a kid lol, and I had no idea he wrote stardust! But that is such a beautiful movie (I have a Stardust AU lol) and it’s definitely one of my comfort movies. Captain Shakespeare is one of the best characters ever, bless Robert de Niro. I would die for him. Fun fact, i had no idea Ipswitch was a real place until like. 2019. I 100% thought it was made up for the movie 😂

Alongside Stardust, I’ve always loved The Golden Compass. It’s fantasy, but also with that old-timey steampunk science feel, which is so fun and surprisingly difficult to find!

Mortal Engines also has the same kind of feel, and it was such an epic movie in every sense of the word. I’m a little sad that after all the work that went into it, it didn’t get a dedicated following or fan base, because I feel there’s so much potential in it. But at the same time, fandom tends to gather around media that has plenty of flaws for us to repair with gold, and there wasn’t much room for that in Mortal Engines.

I’m going to put Jupiter Ascending here even though it technically fits with the sci-fi, because that section is long as fuck and also this movie has such a fantastic feel. Mila Kunis? beautiful. The CGI? beautiful. Eddy Redmayne? One of the best villain portrayals i’ve ever seen. The whole oedipal vibe he had was immaculate, as was their portrayal of reincarnation, and just. The world building. GOD. I get so weak for through world building. Also the fkn intergalactic bureaucracy when they’re basically at the space DMV? One of my all time favorite scenes in movie history.

Horror

I have very little room in my life for horror. As I said, I have strong movie opinions, especially when it comes to horror movies. I don’t like how most of them rely on cheap jump scares and overused gore and gratuitous rape scenes, instead of, y'know, actual good writing.

Which is EXACTLY why I adore It: Chapter 1 & 2. It has none of those things, but still manages to be so terrifying. They are my favorite horror movies, and I’m saying this as someone who has genuine childhood trauma bc of the novel. Like. I couldn’t shower/take baths alone until I was almost 10 T_T When I was 6-7 and saw kids play by storm drains, I would run over screaming about how Pennywise was going to get them. Like, I had issues man. I was terrified to see the first one, and wouldn’t go until I could go with my best friend after she had already seen it, so she could warn me when something scary was about to happen 😂

And, one of my favorite aspects of the movie, and the thing that gave me Mad Respect for Any Muschietti? The way he filmed Bev and her father. They have a character who is literally being molested, but they never once have to show it. And yet their interactions are still so viscerally upsetting to watch. Sexploitation puts me off of most horror, and the fact that Muschietti doesn’t use it here, even when it would be actually somewhat justified? *chef’s kiss*. I love him.

I love horror as a concept, I’m just really picky about it because I expect the writing to be good. I don’t like short cuts. But in a lot of cases, even if I don’t enjoy the movie itself, I love to watch analysis videos on youtube! I love to see the philosophy and symbolism in different horror movies, even if i don’t like to watch the movies themselves. It’s a fun hobby.

Misc.

Then in general, some other stuff I love in no particular order:

The Internship (Bless Dylan, Stuart is such a bitch and I love him)

American Assassin (ofc. The writing itself is eh, but Mitch is my man)

Dylan’s episode of Weird City. (I actually have a lot of feelings about this one. Jordan Peele is another amazing writer/director, I really need to catch up on his works.)

Dorian Gray (*chef’s kiss*)

Rogue One (Makes me cry every time)

WARCRAFT (Obviously this is a fav. It made me so happy, words cannot express.)

Coraline and most other stop motion animation. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for that.

Literally anything associated with Tim Burton. Fun fact, when I was 12 and in middle school, I planned to decorate my future house inspired by tim burton. Like, i had Plans.

Most adaptations of Alice in Wonderland!

So! this got long as fuck! But you said you like that kind of thing lol 😂 I had kinda Eh sleep since I was up so late lmao, and I kept waking up (as usual, rip). And I’m so mad I go up for nothing! The dude I was supposed to show my listing to never showed, and is refusing to answer my calls >_> It’s been 2 hours now, and I still haven’t heard from him. But whatever, I already have a full price cash offer on the house so who cares. And that means I can play WoW all day, now!

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eyesforjade · 5 years ago

Text

Underestimate — Jill Valentine X Carlos Oliveira [Resident Evil 1 and 3]

Summary:

underestimate

verb

direct transitive

not giving due esteem, value or appreciation to; not having a lot of consideration; disdain.

"s. someone's intelligence"

direct transitive

miscalculate, for less.

"s. the demand for a given commodity"

Five times a man underestimated Jill Valentine, and one time one didn't.

Author’s Note: Hey there, this was an idea I had while I was listening to “Boys Will Be Boys” from Dua Lipa. The result made me really happy, and was something I really liked writing, although, I’m very insecure about it, because, I translated to english, but english is not my mother language, hey, I’m Brazilian, just as Carlos in my future AU’s. Well, stay tunned for my other works, and I hope you guys really like this.

Word count: 3841 words.

Warning: Maybe for my bad english, but besides this, there’s some points where the character’s lines are sexist, and there’s also scenes of shooting in the characters.

Also available on ao3

i. dick valentine

Jill vaguely remembers having a day with her father, even though he wasn't training her skills. She was a smart girl, and she knew very well what her father did for living, and even though she didn't think it was right, it was the only thing she had, knowing that her mother would never return to her life, especially because of her father.

Dick Valentine has always been very hard, he wanted his daughter to follow in his footsteps, because he knew how much capable she was. But all the pressure to learn drove Jill crazy, and often missed the things she did. At the time, Jill never understood, but now older, she understands that he underestimated her many times, so that she was better at what she did.

And that's why when he saw the opportunity for Jill to join the S.T.A.R.S., it was when he started getting heavier. Days and nights in the clear, a lot of pressure, Jill worked hard that year, got a lot of injuries in the process, but it was from that she managed to achieve more things, Jill learned to live and it was all thanks to him.

But she never denied that it was a heavy childhood. The training was intense, but it taught her things she never forgot, like that day in her teens, when Dick trained her on how to deftly break into a home. “Only fools accept the obvious and go no further; use your brain, Jilly”. That same day, they had a fight, and Jill will never forget her.

— You can do it, Jilly. — He said that on average at least 30 times a day, and Jill was tired of hearing that, dropping the lockpick gear, she turns irritated to her father.

— If I can do it, why do you keep demeaning me?! — Jill always thinks about what she will say, and that day she was just tired.

— Because I want you to be better! — Hearing that from him, at that moment, was something that ended the training for him. He stood up, dropping her in front of the lock. — Better than me. — Jill spent the rest of the day trying to perfect her skills, she didn't want her father to have to talk to her like that. Never.

Δ ii. brian irons

It was another normal morning at R.P.D., everything was very calm. All corridors were with as little noise as possible, except for the whispers about the special ceremony that the S.T.A.R.S. were organizing. The captain of Alpha team, Albert Wesker was organizing a shooting competition between the two S.T.A.R.S. teams for training, and it was obvious that for incentives, he had a huge trophy for the winner, second and third place medals, and medals of participation for the other places.

As the event was entirely focused on S.T.A.R.S., they organized on their own, and participated, while the other policemen watched and cheered for whom they preferred. The event would take place outside, at the entrance to the west wing, there the two teams were divided and being led by their respective captains, Wesker and Marini. Enrico ordered his team to make sure that all weapons were good and ready for the competition, while Wesker, ordered his team to assemble the entire structure of the competition, and as a perfectionist, he wanted everything perfect.

When the lack of duct tape to stick the targets is over, Wesker sends Jill Valentine to get more. It was a simple task, which he had forgotten to do and he says to Jill, that he had left some boxes of tape on his desk in the office, she does not complain when she receives the task, she just turns to smile at Rebecca Chambers of Bravo, and go looking for it quickly. She was already close to the office, just another corridor, entering the door to her left, she immediately smelled the coffee that the office always carried.

With a smile on her face, Jill begins to approach the door to Wesker's small office, listening to the door she entered close. Albert was right when he said that the box of tapes would be on his desk, Valentine takes four tapes, thinking it was too much, but it was better to be left than missing, heading for the exit, when her hand holds the handle, she hears some voices outside, voices that were speaking about her, Jill grips the knob tightly, not turning it.

— Seriously, a little girl like her? — She soon recognizes the voice, Brian Irons, the chief of police, Jill takes a deep breath, being as quiet as possible, did not want them to know she was there. — Is that what you're rooting for?

— I think she has a lot of potential, Irons. — It's impossible not to recognize Marvin Branagh's voice, he almost never talks to her, but it was nice to know that he thought she had potential.

— If we were placing a bet, you would lose. — Jill is silent, trying to hold the hurt that burned in her chest. — She won't even come in third, I don't know why Albert admitted her to Alpha... — Valentine remains silent, hearing the voices fading due to the distance. She swallows hard, trying to get it out of her head, leaving the office as soon as possible, heading back to the west entrance.

Jill could say that the shooting competition was one of the worst disasters of her life. She wasn't at all motivated after hearing Irons say that, and she blamed herself a lot for letting it take over during the competition. Be in line with the rest of the S.T.A.R.S. waiting to receive his participation medal, it was one of his worst nightmares.

He was in the middle of Barry and Joseph. Barry had stayed in fourth place, while Joseph secured himself in sixth, Jill knew that fifth place was a good position, but the words of that filthy man, circled her head, while she practically stared at the floor. She had seen Irons whisper among some policemen, making them laugh, and that discouraged her even more. Chris had won the trophy, and she couldn't be happier for it, but she also really wanted to get out of there.

That day, Jill learned her lesson. She would never let any man say anything bad about her, ever again. She left R.P.D. without speaking to anyone, whispering: "your happiness is worth more than winning a stupid competition".

Δ iii. barry burton

Walking around the mansion had a bizarre mix of feelings. Jill liked quiet places, and the empty mansion by itself was a perfect place for her, except that almost every corridor had a new surprise waiting for her, zombies, crows, and the insecurity of opening a door, and finding one more. STARS member dead.

Jill had a lot on her mind, and the new area of the mansion made her unsure about things. She had just put a cylinder inside the machine that would make the underground elevator work, the four buttons lit a red light. Pushing the buttons, even in the most obvious order, hadn't worked, and Jill becomes impatient when she sees the cylinder come out again. Examining the cylinder, she can see that it had a sequence of numbers, but that the two parts did not meet.

Rotating the top, she discovers the sequence. “IV II III I”, with a smile on her face, Jill puts the cylinder back in the machine, pressing the buttons in the same sequence, glad it worked. The sound of the elevator, which was held by very visible chains, reaches the floor she was on, and she walks to him, analyzing the buttons on the panel, she hears the sound of the door she entered opening, and soon recognizes the voice that called her name.

— Barry?! Thank god you're safe. — She leaves the elevator, approaching the older man.

— You too, Jill. — He starts looking everywhere, like every other time that Jill had found him. — A noise I heard brought me down here, but... — He enters the elevator, Valentine followed him, watching his movements. — I didn't expect to find a place like this. Have any idea as to what might be at the bottom? — Barry asks, while Jill continues to analyze the panel.

— There's only one way to find out. — She says confidently, pressing the button. It didn't take long for the elevator to reach the bottom, they weren't sure what was there, but they heard a strange noise. Barry pulls out his gun, looking around intently.

— What the hell is that sound? — Jill starts to analyze the place, the caves under the mansion were certainly huge, it would take a while to check all that. — It could be a person. — What Barry said next made Jill question Burton's character. — Jill, go check it out. We have had enough surprises for one day. I’ll stay here, and secure our escape route in case something happens. — Valentine was totally against the idea of spliting up, she thought if they were together, maybe they could find Wesker and Redfield faster, but she also didn't complain when Barry sent her to check, she was part of the S.T.A.R.S., she didn't have to refuse to do something. It was her job.

Entering a door near the elevator. Jill had to face a woman, or what was left of one, her body had become monstrous, and now she couldn't even distinguish the woman's monster anymore. Valentine couldn't help but be sad, everyone in the mansion was a person, and they were alive before that.

Facing her, Jill discovered it was her making the noises. Knowing this, she had to go back to Barry, and maybe, that would mean they could walk through the caves together. When she got back to where the elevator was, her heart sank, Barry went up with the elevator, leaving her right there. She was sad, angry, and that only motivated her to continue, and get out of there, why did Barry act strange?

The next time they meet, Barry looks surprised to see her. His look was one of despair, fear, he seemed much more nervous than the other times they met. Jill had been through many things since that meeting in the caves, had returned to the mansion, and placed the emblems at the back of the stairs. Seeing Barry again, made Jill unsure, about trusting him again.

When she found him, he was touching a stone structure, it looked like a coffin. He was holding his gun, and as she started approching, he turned to her, placing the gun behind his back, as if he was trying to hide it. He acted as if she hadn't seen it.

— Jill! Are you alive! — Jill approaches him, in silence, watching his movements, Burton looked really nervous. — I was worried, because I thought you were ... — “Dead? After you left me there?” Jill thought, anger was all she felt, Barry had underestimated her.

With a quick movement, Barry points the gun at Jill. Reacting fast, Jill manages to execute a maneuver, disarming him, Barry was distracted, in other situations, he would never have let him be disarmed, Jill holds the gun, pointing at him, she was tired, and couldn’t believe he had aimed the weapon at her.

— Start talking! — She says, her anger increased more, every time she thought about everything that was happening. And then, she decided, no matter what, she would come out of that nightmare alive.

Δ iv. albert wesker

The mansion incident was something that would forever be remembered in the memory of the five S.T.A.R.S. survivors. Being inside that office, which was once lively and cheerful, left them really agitated and insecure.

The mansion had been blown up. Probably to prevent them from having concrete evidence of Umbrella's guilt about all of this. They only had some evidence, files, that they had taken from the mansion. Much of it was brought in by Chris and Rebecca, who lead with the mansion's things together, Jill carried some she found during her time there, Barry, while having to side with Wesker, contributed some too.

But there is one that Jill will never forget to read. She took it from Albert's body, after Tyrant killed him, it was a pocket diary, which he was updating while they were trying to survive in the mansion. About Redfield, he said that Chris was already suspicious, and it would be a long time before he found out the truth. About Burton, he had written that he was the weakest link, because he had family, and he could use that against Barry. About Vickers, well, it was just him thanking the fact that he was a coward, because he didn't have to get his hands dirty to lure us to the mansion.

About anyone from Bravo, there wasn't much, just that he imagined they were already dead by then. But about Jill ... He had written that she was a skinny, good detective, and had already left R.P.D. suspicious of him, but for him, she would be an easy target, and it would be the first one he would kill if she got in his way.

Jill didn't want to count this as a victory. It was not the time, especially after so many casualties. But she had survived, and he hadn't, and it shows how much she wasn’t an easy target, Valentine was sure it wasn't done with Wesker, and she was going to take Umbrella down now.

Δ v. nicholai ginovaef

During the outbreak of the virus in the city, Jill obtained refuge and support from a man named Carlos Oliveira. It wasn't much, but it was a start, even though Valentine didn't know how far her confidence should go, since in less than 10 minutes, she found out that Oliveira was with Umbrella, or almost.

Umbrella had sent a platoon to save the survivors from the outbreak. Jill met the U.B.C.S. platoon captain, and even though she didn't want to trust them, she wanted to help civilians as much as they did. So, following Carlos' requests, Jill was on her way to the subway substation.

Going there, she passed a garage in a car repair shop. Where she found a man... A soldier, dressed in clothes similar to those of the U.B.C.S. injured, without thinking twice, Jill approaches him, who was propped up in the car. His injuries didn’t appear to have been made by zombies. Jill experienced zombie bites, and that one definitely wasn't one. The injuries were more like a melee attack from someone alive.

— You’re U.B.C.S.? — She begins to analyze her injuries, while the man looks desperately at her.

— Yeah. C-careful, careful. — Jill gets lost in her thoughts, it definitely didn't seem like a bite, who could have done that to him? — Come on, don't look at me like that, alright? I'm not infected!

— Okay, let’s take care... — Suddenly, the soldier starts to say “no” quickly, and all Jill could do was see the gunshot directly through his head, leaving Valentine slightly scared. She gets up, looking at the bald-haired man, dressed in a U.B.C.S. uniform, looking at the body of the soldier he had killed. — What the fuck!

— He was infected. — His accent was strong, similar to Mikhail's, Jill looks at him in disbelief, unable to believe what the man had just done.

— He MIGHT have been infected! — The man laughs, turning his back on Valentine, it was surreal, Jill followed him with her eyes.

— Are all S.T.A.R.S. this soft? — He laughs, starting to walk, he walked fast, as if he wanted to get out of here fast, Jill takes his step following the same. — No wonder so many of you are dead.

— And what are you? — Jill confronts, the same stops walking, he had started up the stairs, and to look at her. — U.B.C.S.? Killing your own people? — He goes down a step, approaching Jill's face, as if he was trying to intimidate her, Valentine doesn't give in, she looks at the man with the same intensity, no man would intimidate her.

— He would have turned. — He smiles sideways, making fun of her, Jill feels her fists clench in a tight grip, he had no mercy, he seemed to follow his own rules, even if Commander Victor was in charge of the U.B.C.S. — Where's your sense of self-preservation? — He laughs dry, and goes back up the stairs. — Go back to the subway station. We don’t need a bleeding heart like you getting in the way.

Jill is left alone again, she was sure that this would not be the last time she would meet him, but she realized that she would have to be careful around him, because she wouldn’t die in Raccoon City.

Δ vi. carlos oliveira

When Jill arrived at the helipad, she saw Carlos lying on the ground near the helicopter, she imagined the worst. She had stayed behind, to put an end to the tyrant who pursued her during her stay in Raccoon City, and asked Carlos to go after Nicholai and the vaccine, see Carlos' fallen body, made her think the worst.

She runs over to him, crouching down to try to feel a pulse in his neck. She soon hears footsteps approaching him, and she sees Nicholai, who kicks her, without being able to react quickly. She recovers quickly, trying to pull the gun, but she is soon disarmed by another kick from the man. He had the vaccine in hand, and a gun pointed at her.

— You’re not going to stop me. — He shakes the vaccine in his hand. — Promised you this, didn't I? — He throws the vaccine at her side, and Jill tries to reach it, only to see it being shot by Nicholai.

— Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? — She looks at Nicholai, who had a sarcastic smile on his face.

— Don’t know. Don’t care. — He shrugs. — My client ordered me to reduce Umbrella to rubble. — When the robotic voice announces that the missile is only 10 minutes away from reaching the city, Valentine's heart is racing. Nicholai smiles, looking the same. — Ah, the missile has launched. And this is my cue to leave. — Jill was still on the ground, she hadn't gotten up, afraid the man would rush over and shoot, but she knew he would probably kill her now. — Goodbye, Miss Valentine. A shame you didn't listen to me when you had the chance.

She feels safe when she sees that Carlos' body was no longer in the same place. She was happy, happy that he hadn't died, but afraid that he was fighting Nicholai now, trying to disarm him. Despite the shock, Jill turns her attention, and reaches for the weapon she had lost earlier. Aiming at Nicholai, who was now surrendered by Carlos, Jill takes a deep breath, looking at Carlos.

— Jill! Shoot him! — Hearing Carlos say that, made Jill insecure, she knew she wouldn't be able to shoot Nicholai without hitting Carlos.

— I can’t! I'll hit you! — It was an idiotic moment for this, and Jill knew it, but at that time, she remembered Iron’s comment on the day of the competition, and how much it affected her, if she couldn't hit the targets there, how could she hit him without hitting Carlos?

— Shoot! You have to! There's no other way! — Jill tries to aim with all precision, her shaking hands didn't help at all. — I trust you. — That was more than an incentive for her to pull the trigger, hitting Nicholai in the chest, making him fall to the ground, and consequently, Carlos too.

— Carlos! — Jill approaches him, lowering, part of her worry leaves her, when she sees the smile on his face.

— Hey, I told you I couldn't leave you in a Carlos-less world. — Jill smiles at him, happy that he was alive. — That would just be too cruel. — Jill extends her arm, lifting Carlos. — What about him? — Carlos asks about Nicholai, getting into the helicopter to start him.

— Why’d you do it? — Jill asks next to Nicholai, the man smiles, holding his chest.

— There's a price tag for everything. Even letting the world burn. — Jill looks at him with disgust, tired of all this.

— Who are you working for? — She hears the helicopter engines, she knew Carlos was waiting for her.

— I'll tell you if you get me out of here. I'll pay you whatever you want. — Valentine smiles, looking at the helicopter, walking to it. — You’re a fool. You’re a fool! — Nicholai kept saying, looking at Jill close to the helicopter. — If I die, you’ll never find out the truth.

— I don't mind a little detective work. — She climbs into the helicopter, closing the door, sitting down, feeling the helicopter start to take off. Her gaze lands on Carlos, and she can't help but smile, she was finally where she wanted to be.

Δ bonus

B.S.A.A. organized a huge event, with all the team members, to honor some people. Jill hated this type of event, but it always came because Chris insisted that it was good to rest after all the B.S.A.A. missions, but she knew that she only came to make fun of people's behavior with Carlos.

Carlos and Jill stayed together after Raccoon City. They were together, dating, for a long time. Carlos loved it when Jill made a joke about these events, and to Jill it seemed kind of forced when he insisted that they come to that specific event. Jill knew she never won awards, they always came for the food and the joke, and sometimes, they would come to Carlos receive his awards.

Redfield had contacted Carlos, convincing him to bring Jill. The reason was simple, the only honorees of the night were the former members of S.T.A.R.S. for all the service they did and still do, Oliveira was happy to bring Jill, he loved seeing her smile with the jokes they made, and she looked beautiful in those chic dresses.

Jill always accompanied him when he received awards, and he was more than happy to be able to accompany her on this one. He knew he would be up front, seeing her on stage, and applauding her, Jill was an extraordinary woman, and Carlos couldn't be more proud.

When they called her name it was a shock. Jill had been very happy when they called the name of Barry, Chris and Rebecca, applauded them with a huge smile on their face, but didn’t expected when she heard her name, she looked at Carlos, with a weak smile, and he opened a huge smile, standing up to hug her. Following her as she headed towards the stage, joining Barry and Rebecca, while Chris gave a short speech.

And Carlos was there. At the front, cheering her with a smile on her face, Jill cried when Chris's speech spoke about her, she laughed and hid her face in Barry's jacket, ashamed, but Carlos, Carlos thought she was beautiful.

#carlos x jill #carlos oliveira #jill valentine #jill valentine and carlos oliveira #chris redfield #albert wesker #brian irons #barry burton #rebecca chambers #dick valentine #jarlos #valenveira #valeveira #enrico marini #brad vickers #nicholai ginovaef #s.t.a.r.s.#resident evil #resident evil 3 remake

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grasslandgirl · 4 years ago

Note

For the ask game F G H R T please!

tysm anna 🥺🥺💖💖

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

ahhhhhh this is SO hard, you’re getting top three sorry not sorry

in no particular order:

1) from I’ve waited and watered my heart ‘til it grew (the magnus archives, jon and martin):

“Georgie told me once- before the Unknowing, before… before we really understood the gravity of everything- that I needed people around me, to anchor me, as it were. To talk to- to all of you, but I think she also meant you, Martin, specifically. You were always there to anchor me, to listen to me, even when you were neck-deep in Lukas’s business. Even- even when I didn’t think I deserved it.”

Martin looked down at Jon, met his inscrutable and unwavering gaze. “You always deserved it, Jon,” he said, with all the conviction he had.

[i just ahhhh i think i really nailed jon’s voice through all of this fic but martin’s line here specifically. that’s it. that’s the crux of all of it i think.]

2) from my unfinished juno steel amnesia fic (the penumbra podcast, juno and rita):

“Amnesia?” Juno mumbled, looking at Rita for confirmation. “I lost… two years?”

“I mean, yeah, Mister Steel, if the last thing you remember was the Robertson case that was two years ago. And that means you don’t remember anything about Mister Ex-Mayor Takano-Flaherty or the THEIA’s or Mister Ransom or- OH!! This reminds me of that one stream we watched, Boss, with the guy who had his brain sucked out by aliens only they weren’t aliens they were actually a super secret government agency taking away people’s memories; but oh, no, I guess you can’t remember that either, because we watched that one after the case where that lady’s cat exploded after you lost your eye and you were still all sad about Mister Glass again- we should watch that stream, Boss! Especially now that you don’t remember anything either, even though-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up, Rita,” Juno said, waving his hand vaguely, “what was- any of that, if I’m being honest. Ransom and the mayor? We blew up somebody’s cat?”

“I mean technically, the cat blew itself up, Boss.”

[did i mention that i LOVE rita penumbrapodcast? cause i LOVE her and i love to write her she’s so fun and her dynamic with juno is So fun to write, she just talks and i get to run away on my keyboard and let her say whatever her salmon-crunchie flavored heart desires <3]

3) from my bad kids fantasy au unposted wip (dimension twenty, fabian and adaine and gorgug):

Fabian frowned at Gorgug, considering. “Gorgug, we need to duel more often. If I’m going to be Captain, I need to know all my competition- even if they’re my best friend.”

“Aww,” Gorgug smiled down at Fabian, “I’m your best friend?”

“What?” Fabian blinked in confusion, before noticing Gorgug’s widening smile. “You dick-” he punched Gorgug in the shoulder- “you nearly got me! Of course we’re best friends, Thistlespring-”

“What about me?” Adaine asked, watching her boys’ friendly scuffle.

“You’re my best friend, too,” Gorgug said eagerly, “I can have more than one best friend.”

“Well I have dozens of best friends,” Fabian said, never one to be out done. “But, uh, I suppose you two are the- the top of the list. Of my many friends.”

[i simply think.... they!! their dynamic is SO choice if i do say so myself, i just think that old childhood best friends is one of the Best dynamics out there and is sorely underutilized and i am taking it upon myself to solve that problem. you’re welcome, world]

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

i HAVE to write my fics in chronological order, from start to finish bc there are always scenes that i really Want to write and if i write those first then i have No drive or focus to write the Rest of the fic or the context that goes with it, so i make myself write chronologically and use the scenes that im really excited to write as a goal and a driving force to get myself through the other, equally important scenes, that i’m less excited about, otherwise the fic sits half-finished and abandoned in my wip folder, never to see the light of day......

H: How would you describe your style?

truly i Could Not Tell You. ive been told i write how i talk which. yeah. but idk how true that is for my fic/fiction writing? i truly don’t know tell me about my writing style im begging you i don’t know what my style is i just write its just there

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

there aren’t any specific writers that i draw regular, constant inspo from, really? i’m lucky to know and be friends with multiple incredibly talented authors (you, anna grace, chief among them of course) and sometimes when i read a really good fic or story ill get inspired by the author’s style or tone and work off of that; but those beats of inspiration aren’t super common and tend to just lead to short little spurts of writing, most of my longer ideas and wips are products of plot and character inspiration, drawing from my life or the original media itself and less from fic or other writing (shoutout to @nojoyinmudville and @cauldronoflove both for writing SO good that it made me write fanfiction for THEIR fanfiction sfjvnksjfbd)

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

uhhhhhh not off the top of my head? im a sucker for coffeeshop and bakery aus but they always sort of infuriate me bc you can always tell when theyre written by people who have Never Worked In Food Service nor have they KNOWN anyone who’s worked in food service bc they’re always “im the owner of a very popular, well-trafficked bakery and i’m the owner and also the ONLY EMPLOYEE. I BAKE ALL THE BREAD AND PASTRY MYSELF. AND I RUN THE REGISTER AND THE COUNTER. AND I CLEAN THE WHOLE KITCHEN. AND I DO ALL THE FINANCES AND ORDER FORMS AND LEGAL TAPE. I ALSO HAVE TIME FOR A FUFILLING SOCIAL AND ROMANTIC LIFE. SOMEHOW, I SLEEP SOMETIMES.” plese. im begging u people. use your critical thinking skills. or, if all else fails. GOOGLE HOW WORKING IN A COFFEESHOP WORKS. YOU DON’T WORK 6AM- 8PM SHIFTS SIX DAYS A WEEK WITH ONE COWORKER. YOU HAVE SHIFTS. MORE PEOPLE IN THE RUSH HOURS. YOU HAVE DAYS OFF. ahem. anyway. yeah.

this got. so long sorryyyyyy ksjbskjf but thank you a million anna grace ilyyy 💖💖🤧🤧

send me a fanfic ask!! (my ao3 acc is @/grasslandgirl and is linked in my bio!)

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missmonsters2 · 6 years ago

Text

Drive Her Crazy || Part IV

PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x OFC/Reader

Summary: AU. Meet Wanda, the new ‘It’ girl. She’s built her social standing as a social influencer through Instagram and vlogging on Youtube. Queen Bee in her social circle, she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. She’s perfect, you think. Girls like that require a little finesse, and you’re ready to play the game.

Warnings: Non-healthy relationship, psychological games, smut(?)

Note: Welcome to a Tumblr exclusive! PM me if you would like to be added onto the tag list for updates.

Also, these parts keep getting progressively longer...sorry 😬

PART I || PART II || PART III

PART IV of X

Count: 4655

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

You pull up on the driveway of someone else who looks like they have a lot of money (well, you knew they did on the fact that it was a gated community, and then the person’s house had a personal gate again that you had to tell a guard your name before they opened it).

You parked your car onto their spacious driveway along with the other cars. Goddamn, this person had a fountain...in their driveway. You grab the wine you had gotten as a gift, your bag that had a little surprise for Wanda and make your way to the door.

Ringing the doorbell, you wait a couple seconds before someone opens the door. You’re greeted with Wanda’s blue eyes as she excitedly hugs you.

“You made it!”

You return her hug, and when you pull back, she’s already leading you through the massive house. In the kitchen, you find a group of people there who are flitting around preparing for dinner.

They all turn to you, curious and some smiling. You see Vision in the corner next to another man.

Wanda introduces you to everyone, and they’re greeting you. “That’s Tony and Pepper, they’re married. This is Steve and Bucky, that’s Clint and Bruce, my fiancé Vision there, and of course, the star of tonight, Natasha!”

You’re trying to keep up with the names, but you’re sure you’re going to have to ask for them multiple times tonight. At least you’ll remember Natasha since the party is for her.

“Congratulations are in order I hear,” you tell Natasha, offering her the wine bottle.

“I hope you like red,” you say.

Natasha grabs the bottle from you, eyeing it with an impressed raised brow.

“Bordeaux wine Pétrus. Impressive. Even my new boss hasn’t gifted me anything this nice,” she smiles at you and for a moment, you’re enchanted by her slender and seductive features.

“Hey!” You hear, looking over to see the man with the Goatee (Tony, you think?) yell indignantly.

“Working for me is the gift,” Tony says, and you try not to laugh as Natasha rolls her eyes. Tony turns to you, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve finally managed to snipe Natasha from the competition, you see. I’ve got the best publicist in this state, possibly America.”

You whistle impressively, turning to Natasha who just winks at you. Wanda grabs your attention again by touching your arm. You look over and give her a smile.

“What’s...Bordeaux wine Pétrus? Is it that good?” You look over to see the unbelievably fit blond man ask (seriously his body is the shape of a Dorito).

“The bottle is around two grand, Steve. It’s more than good,” The guy next to him says. Steve’s eyes widen at you, and Wanda does the same. You just scratch the back of your head awkwardly with an upturn of your lip.

When dinner starts, you opt to sit across from Natasha instead of Wanda. The dinner is pretty peaceful until Natasha asks you what you do for work. Wanda is about to answer for you, but you answer first.

“I’m actually a DJ,” you say. Natasha hums, licking her lips.

“Really? I don’t think I recognize your face.” Natasha says, and everyone is squinting trying to see if they know who you are.

You chuckle, “Yeah, probably because I do wear a mask when I perform.”

“Ah, hah! Since I highly doubt you’re Marshmellow, you must be Lady Phantom.” Clint snaps his fingers, and everyone turns their attention to him but then back to you.

You nod once, putting another bite of your into your mouth. Natasha’s just smirking at you, and you’re returning the look with a slight raise of your brow.

“What’s wrong, Wanda? You look like someone just snatched your belongings.” Tony says, and you turn to look at Wanda who does look a little displeased.

She glares at you with a bit of sulk, “I can’t believe you just told everyone so easily, while I made a fool of myself before finding out.”

You laugh as she throws a grape at you.

“How did you find out?” Bruce asked.

You smile, taking the grape she threw at you and ate it. “Wanda had a photoshoot in Palm Desert the same time I had a gig there. Since she needed the ride, I took her along with me, and she so kindly gushed how she was a fan of Lady Phantom, not realizing that that was me. She didn’t find out until I was playing at the gig.”

Wanda groans as everyone begins to laugh, sending you another glare. Vision looks at you with slight displeasure showing on his face.

“I don’t understand the mystery. Why the mask? Isn’t it contradictory to have the mask but seek fame?” Vision asks.

You raise your brow at him with a crooked grin. “Well, I wouldn’t say I seek fame. It’s more of a result of my work. The mask is my branding. That’s how Clint was able to recognize who I was before I could say. I’m not opposed to the public knowing my face, but while I can, I enjoy my privacy.”

“It doesn’t feel very authentic,” Vision comments and Wanda elbows him in the rib, and he looks at her confused.

You merely shrug your shoulders. “My process is my own. My work speaks for itself, and I believe that image is a part of owning success and fame. You have to be extremely talented if you want to put your work out there anonymously as your brand. If you don’t believe in branding, then you’re just one of the billions of people who are floating with nothing to differentiate yourself. If you aren’t just made of talent, then you have to work hard, which means putting yourself out there. It would be incredibly naive to believe that success will just fall into your lap.”

You say and Natasha and Tony nod approvingly at you. You glance at Vision again with a subtly smug look in your face as he frowns at you with his brows furrowed.

The rest of the dinner goes smoothly, you and Natasha make a lot of conversation, and you purposely did that. You could see Wanda staring at the two of you, conflicted on trying to join in on the conversation but finding it hard to.

“You should show me your work sometime,” Natasha says as you both pick up the plates and head over the sink.

“Depends, Romanoff. What do I get in return?” You ask a little flirty. The redhead curves her lip upward.

“I’m pretty negotiable,” Natasha tells you in return. You lick your bottom lip and watch as Natasha eyes the action.

You’re about to say something else when Wanda comes up and interrupts you two.

“C’mon slowpokes, everyone is in the living room. Tony says you can just leave the dishes on the side.” Wanda grabs your arm and starts pulling you away while Natasha walks behind you two.

This time, Wanda gets you to sit next to her, and Natasha sits on your other side. Tony and Pepper had brought over the alcohol, including your wine while Steve and Bucky went over to the bar to grab some glasses.

They open your bottle and pour everyone a glass. You limit yourself to just this one glass as you want to be able to drive home later.

Once the drinks are served, Tony immediately announcing it’s now game time. You play a variety of board games. After about 4 games, you all opt to sit and relax a little.

“So,” Natasha starts. “Any upcoming plans anyone?”

“I’m taking Pepper to the Bahamas for our anniversary next week.” Pepper grins as she’s sitting in Tony’s lap with his arms around his waist.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of taking the kids and wife to our lake house for the rest of the summer,” Clint says.

“Bucky and I are going to Brooklyn to visit our friends there for a couple weeks. We actually are considering moving there.” Steve says, looking over to Bucky who nods.

“I have a huge project, so this is probably the last time I’ll see the outside world for a while,” Bruce says with a sigh, taking a sip from his glass.

Wanda sighs as she’s leaning against Vision. “I want to go to Wasteland, but I want to get a guest pass so I can avoid the crowd in the VIP section, but all the brands I’ve worked with couldn’t get me passes. I might just have to risk it at VIP.”

You smile, and everyone turns to you. You pull your bag towards you and dig for what you’re looking for. You pull out 3 Artiste passes and Wanda gasps.

“I’m actually performing at Wasteland. They gave me some Artiste passes.” You hand two over to Wanda so she can give one to Vision. She squeals happily and throws her arms around you. You return the hug, eyeing Vision briefly but he catches it.

“What are Artiste passes?” Natasha asks.

“They are basically above VIP passes. It is a secluded section for basically celebrities. You can only get them from producers of the festival or from artists. With the Artiste passes, you can go backstage though.” Wanda says as she admires the photos. She’s already taking pictures of them for her Instagram with her phone.

It was purposeful. You wanted Wanda to see how you could provide her anything she wanted where Vision could not, and the man could see that.

He eyed the passes with a level of anger but didn’t say anything.

You weren’t done there, though. Originally, you were going to give all three passes to Wanda and have her see which of her friends wanted to tag along, but you decided you were going to ask Natasha yourself.

The redhead was perfect in the sense that she was a moving piece to make Wanda look more carefully at you.

You tilt the last pass at Natasha.

“Come see me play,” you tell the redhead. She smirks and takes the pass.

“What happened to getting something in return?”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something there,” you tell her with a smile.

You could hear Clint snickering in the background.

“Let’s get back to playing some drinking games!” Wanda suddenly exclaimed, getting up and getting other people to stand up with her. You hid your smirk as you also stood up and held out your hand to Natasha to help her.

It felt like a frat party after with all the drinking games you haven’t played since college.

It was getting pretty late, and you were in the middle of a beer pong game with Steve and Bucky, and Natasha as your partner. You had let the redhead know you weren’t looking to drink as you wanted to be able to drive home safely after and she kindly drank every cup you guys lost.

It was getting to a pretty close game, and since you were both competitive by nature, you told Natasha you both needed to start trying to get your shots into the same cup so you could try to end it in the next turn.

On your next turn, you had shot one into Steve and Bucky’s middle cup, and Natasha followed your suit, easily shooting hers into the same cup. Steve and Bucky loudly groaned in disappointment as they began to drink the middle cup and all the surrounding cups that touched the middle.

You cheered, and Natasha smirked, taking her beer from the side and took a sip from it.

Opting to not play another round, Clint and Bruce went to play against Steve and Bucky. The two of you instead stood against the kitchen counter and chatted.

It was mostly just banter, but it was going pretty well until Wanda showed up, looking quite unhappy.

“I’m not feeling well. I want to go home,” she looked at Natasha before turning to you.

She looked pretty drunk, but you weren’t sure if you would say she looked sick. You made it clear you were looking for Vision but found him passed out on the couch from drinking too much.

You turn your attention back to Wanda and Natasha, and gave the redhead an apologetic smile.

“Alright, Wanda. Let’s get you home,” you tell her and she tries to walk but stumbles, causing you to reach out and grab her. She leans against you with her eyes closed.

“Sorry, Natasha. I’m going to head out and take Wanda since I haven’t drank. It was really nice to meet you and congratulations again.”

Natasha stops you from leaving for a second, grabbing a pen from the counter. She scribbles something on your hand, and when she’s done, you take a quick look to see it’s her number.

“Call me,” Natasha purrs, and you’re about to reply, but Wanda is tugging on your sleeve. You just give Natasha a smile and wrap your arm around Wanda’s waist to help her walk.

At the stairs, you place her on the step as you find her shoes to help her put it on. She’s quite compliant now, grinning a little as you slip on her flats.

“I’m like Cinderella,” she giggles.

You give a snort in response, “and what? I’m your pumpkin carriage ride?”

You’re helping her outside and placing her gently into the passenger seat and strapping her in. You really hope she doesn’t vomit as you get into the driver seat and drive off.

“No,” she whines like you’re supposed to get it. “Obviously, you put my shoes on. You’re my prince!”

You can’t help but laugh because she sounds ridiculous.

“Anyway,” Wanda says. “You’re getting along with Natasha really well.”

You turn over to look at Wanda, but she has her head against the window with her eyes closed so you can’t really tell exactly what she meant by that.

“Yes,” you say slowly. “She’s great.”

You hear Wanda grumble something under her breath that sounded strangely like, “I’m great,” but you can’t be sure.

When you arrive at Wanda’s house, you get out to open the passenger door and try to wake her up. She grumbles and throws her arms around your neck, and you’re stuck trying to half-drag, half-carry her to the door. You pull her keys from her pockets and help her up to her room. She mumbles that it’s the farthest room in the back.

When you settle her on the bed with a huff, you’re thinking that you need to start working out again. Not that Wanda was heavy, you’re just that out of shape.

Wanda shifts a couple times to get comfortable, and you just look at how adorable she is. Looking around, you look at the bedroom Wanda and Vision share. It seems like Wanda had mostly styled it. There was a giant picture of them at the beach together. You walk over the ledge to look at the smaller picture frames.

There were some of Vision and Wanda, a couple of the friends you had met today, but there was one photo of Wanda together with a man you didn’t recognize. He had his arm wrapped around Wanda, and her arm was around his waist as they laughed.

“That was Pietro...my twin brother.”

You turn around to see Wanda still lying in bed against her pillows, but her eyes were now open.

You walk over and sit next to her on the bed. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Wanda’s eyes flutter lightly as she looks downward. “I don’t anymore...”

Your heart race is picking up a little, you gently put your hand over hers. “Hey, hey, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m sorry.”

Wanda just shakes her head, wiping her tear. “No, sorry. It’s fine. It’s just...still hard to believe he’s gone sometimes.”

You shift against the bed a little more, but Wanda scoots over for you so you can sit next to her.

“It was just really sudden,” she starts, looking at the ceiling. “That morning it was normal, I had even called him to chat. But then in the middle of the night, the police show up at my door saying he was just at the wrong place, wrong time. He was shot many times because he witnessed a bank robbery.” It was the alcohol that made Wanda’s emotions so frayed as she choked on a sob. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder and pulled her into your arms.

“Shh, I’m so sorry, Wanda.” You say. You’re mostly sorry for bringing up such unpleasant memories, but Wanda just cries in your arms, her shoulders heaving as you rub her arm and back.

Eventually, the crying stops, but she doesn’t leave your embrace.

“Sorry,” she says hoarsely. “I don’t know what came over me.”

You merely just rub her arm in response and softly ask, “When did he pass?”

“It’ll be 3 years in a week,” she tells you. It’s just before Wasteland, so you’re surprised that she would want to go, but everyone has their way of grieving.

It’s silent for a moment until Wanda speaks up again. “Have you ever lost anyone?”

You look up at the ceiling for a bit before turning to her.

“Not like you have,” you say softly. “But my aunt passed away when I was 16. I was mostly raised by her since my parents were constantly working. My aunt was pretty much everyone I needed back then.”

“What happened?” Wanda asks, softly, leaning against your shoulder.

“Cancer. It came back pretty aggressively,” you say, reminiscing the past briefly.

“Sorry,” Wanda says, a little muffled.

You chuckle softly and shake your head. “It’s alright, my aunt was pretty intense about me accepting her death. Snarky little thing she was,” you said, and Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I remember when she first caught me smoking. Oh boy, she was so damn mad, I thought my life would end there. But then she went eerily calm, and that’s when you know you’re in deep shit with her. The goddamn woman made me smoke an entire pack at once. I still gag when I smell cigarettes.” You say, shivering at the memory.

Wanda bursts out into laughter, and you smile at your success in getting her to do so.

Wanda starts to open up, sharing stories about Pietro, laughing as she recalled some of them.

“He used to take me to Manhattan beach and make paprikash. He would always make it a picnic, and we would sit out there for hours, just remembering what it was like back in Sokovia.”

“How long were you in Sokovia?” You asked.

“We immigrated when we became 18 since our parents were gone.”

You nodded and looked over at her again. Her eyes were threatening to close, but she was fighting to hang on.

You turn your head away and put the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to not laugh at how cute she was.

“Alright, you. That’s enough for one night. You need to sleep.” You tell her, getting ready to get up and leave, but Wanda holds onto you.

“Stay,” she says, and you look confused. “Just until I fall asleep. Please?”

You take a deep breath in but nod and move back to your spot. Wanda settles in under the blanket this time, and it’s not long at all before she falls asleep.

You’re looking at the photo of Pietro and Wanda through the dark the best you can, tapping your leg idly.

Another moving piece.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

You don’t have too much time to spend time or chat with Wanda the next week because you’re preparing your set and making sure everything is perfect for Wasteland. You do manage to call Natasha as she asked. It’s mostly spent with her asking about Wasteland and how to prepare for the event. It felt like she was expecting you to ask her on a date, but you were saving that.

That week, you had also spent time looking for a restaurant that served authentic paprikash. You managed to find one, but it was a little out of your way. You still went, of course. It was owned by an old woman who ran it with her son.

You ordered the dish, and it tasted amazing. While you had nothing to really compare it to, it felt right. You probably sat there for hours trying to figure out what was going on in the dish with an insane amount of Googling.

After sitting for two hours, the old woman came up to you and sat down.

“What is it that you want?” She asked with a heavy accent, looking at you suspiciously. “Are you trying to steal recipe?”

“What? No!” You say but then pause. “Well, I guess kind of, but not to sell. My friend is from Sokovia, and she gets homesick sometimes...I just want to learn how to make this for her and hopefully make her happier.”

The old woman just stares at you before getting up and walking off. You think she’s just going to leave you alone again until she turns back.

“Well? Are you coming?” She says with a raise of her wrinkly brow.

You get up automatically and follow the old woman into the back. She pulls out the ingredients and puts it in front of you.

“You will start with seasoning chicken...”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

It’s early in the morning of Pietro’s death anniversary. You’re just planning to bring some paprikash to Wanda since you’re pretty sure Vision is spending the day with her.

You have other things to do during the day, but around late evening, you make the dish. You’ve damn near perfected it at this point with the help of the old lady.

You get the contents into a cordless slow cooker and carefully bring it into your car. When you drive over to Wanda’s, you see the lights on. You bring the pot over and use your elbow to ring the doorbell.

To your surprise, Vision answers the door.

“Oh,” he says, looking confused. “Hello.”

“Hey...” you say. “Wanda home?”

Vision purses his lips and rubs the back of his neck.

“Um...today is kind of...” He starts, but you cut him off.

“I know what today is,” you tell him, trying to not roll your eyes.

“Oh,” Vision says, looking surprised. “Okay. Well, Wanda has told me she is someone who prefers to spend this day alone. She pretty much spends it at the beach the entire day.”

You’re floored at his response.

He’s seriously never tried to do anything for her on this day?

You almost want to laugh in his face.

“Right...” You say. “Cool, well, bye.”

Without saying anything else, you turn and walk off back to your car.

You had an idea. You just needed to get a couple things from the store first.

When you got to the beach, the sun was setting. There were still many people walking around, but most were beginning to leave. Carrying everything you could in your bags and hands, you set up your picnic.

With a sigh of relief, you sit down and pull out your phone. Holding the phone against your chin, you think for a moment.

With what Vision said, she was most likely already here. You look over to the pier and see many couples walking along it.

Then you see her.

She’s someone you would never miss. She was sitting at the edge, feet dangling over the water with her back turned to you.

You grinned and dial her number. From a distance, you could see her pull out her phone from her pocket, staring at it. For a second, you don’t think she’s going to pick up, but at the last second, she does.

She calls your name out a little confusedly.

“You know,” you start. “Pretty girls shouldn’t sit alone on a pier. There’s a high probability of attracting trouble.”

There’s silence on the line for a moment.

“And how would you know that?” She asks, and you see her turn her head left and right as if to search for you.

“Mostly because well, you’re a pretty girl, and I’m like 95% sure the dude on your right behind you is planning your kidnapping.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

You laugh, “Seriously? Of all things I say, that’s what you catch on?”

Wanda looks behind her and does see the guy creepily gazing at her, but she’s searching around again.

“Where are you?” She asks, obviously knowing you’re close by.

“Behind you on your left...keep turning....stop.” You guide her, and she makes direct eye contact with you even though you’re a bit away. You think that’s her jaw-dropping, but it’s a little too far for you to discern for sure.

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Wanda says, standing up.

“Well, come over and find out,” You say and hang up the phone.

It takes a couple minutes for Wanda to reach where you are, but when she does, she’s in awe at everything.

“What is this?” She asks, tears welling up in her eyes.

You get up and stand in front her, putting on a nervous grin. “I know today...well...sucks. And I know it’s not the same as him being here, but you deserve more than just sitting on a pier by yourself.”

Pulling her to sit down on the pillow, she looks at everything.

“How did you know?” She asks.

“Well...I...I guess I stopped by earlier and Vision told me...I stopped by to give you...well, this.” You awkwardly stumble over your words but turn to the slow cooker and open the lid. The food is still piping hot as you left the cooker on to prevent the food from getting cold. The aroma immediately hits the air, and Wanda groans happily.

“Is that paprikash?” She asks, eyes wide with a small smile.

“I sure hope so...” you mumble. It wasn’t that you doubted the old lady (well you kind of did), but Wanda was trying it, and you were nervous as fuck. This was a dish she ate with her deceased brother.

Wanda grabs a bowl and the ladle you brought along and scoops herself some. You’re trying to not obsessively watch her as she tries her first bite, but you’re definitely waiting with bated breath.

She closes her eyes and hums satisfyingly, and you release the breath you were holding.

“Wow, this tastes just like home...how did you know how to make it?” Wanda asks, scooping more into her mouth.

You relax a little, scooping some yourself to eat.

“There’s actually a restaurant owned by this old Hungarian woman about 40 minutes away from where we live. I went to eat there last week and pretty much loitered until she showed me how to make it...provided I’m not opening my own restaurant.” You say as if it wasn’t a big deal, happily eating your meal.

You notice Wanda just staring at you, lips turned slightly upward as she softly but intently gazes at you. She then turns her attention down to your fingers that have a couple band-aids on it. You follow her eyes and sheepishly laugh.

“Yeah...I wouldn’t say cooking is my strongest skill and she takes paprikash very seriously.” You flashback to the number of times you accidentally nicked your finger or burnt it on the stove.

Wanda is looking even more endearingly at you, and you internally feel the satisfaction.

“Thank you,” she says sincerely, putting down her finished bowl. “This was really sweet of you.”

You just smile in return and shrug your shoulders. “Don’t spend this day completely alone, okay? I would hate to hunt you down again.”

Wanda smile as you, glint in her eyes as she relaxes.

“Perhaps that wouldn’t be bad.”

PART V

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thesunnyshow · 4 years ago

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Name: leyna

Age: 1X

Writing Blog URL(s): @jensungf

What fandom(s) do you write for? nct (dream)!

Nationality: american!

Languages: english, vietnamese (spanish??? very bad)

Star Sign: capricorn sun!!

MBTI: enfp-t hehe

Favorite color: lavender

Favorite food: beef chow fun/noodles

Favorite movie: our times!

Favorite ice cream flavor: chocolate chip cookie dough

Favorite animal: cats!

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? hmm i’m not a big fan of either tbh but vietnamese iced coffee with a LOT of condensed milk is super good

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): honestly idk! maybe an editor or professor who knows

Go-to karaoke song: “gee” by snsd or “if it ain’t you” by alicia keys

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? vocal-induced manipulation or basically power of persuasion with my words hehe

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? maybe the 90s! i really like the vibes and aesthetic

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? no bc learning is a part of life!

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? horse sized chicken hahaha bc horses are wild

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? drama queen LOLL

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? to an extent yes!

If a genie gave you three wishes, what would they be? world peace, equality for all, and hmm true love in every life i live

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? i have 3k followers on pinterest hahaha weird flex

When did you post your first piece? april 2020!

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? i write most fluff and angst or a combo! with some crack bc who doesn’t love some humor hahah

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? i write reader inserts

Why did you start writing on Tumblr? ive been writing on tumblr since 2015, just for diff fandoms bc i always loved reading fanfics and i wanted to become a better writer

What inspires you to write? other writings, real life experiences, dreams, basically anything!

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? i find fluff easier to write than angst but i like a good balance of all the genres! i rly like writing soulmate!aus for some reason or just some domestic fluffy established relationship stuff

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? i hope they can actually feel the emotions i’m hoping to convey from each character (referring to my more angsty works) or their sweet tooth gets satiated hehe

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? i try to read other stories or talk to my moots to help me!

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? i think my fav has to be only forever because it’s something that i feel like is really cliche but it actually represents the meaning of young innocent first loves. i reminds me of what someone’s youth should sort of feel like. my most successful has been jsmr: sugar and spice because who doesn’t love jsmr!jeno and some sweet fluff and a spicy make out scene 🤭

Who is your favorite person to write about? jeno or jaemin tbh

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? there is a slight difference because fanfiction provides you a sort of foundation with characters but to be honest, i believe that if you just switch the names and perspectives for most of the stories on here, it would become a bestselling hit because it conveys the same emotions and it’s just as enjoyable to read. the writers on here are truly exceptional.

What do you think makes a good story? i definitely think little details and the nuances that add to the plot development and character development. most importantly, if a story evokes emotions from me and i can feel the story then i think it’s beautiful in itself.

What is your writing process like? for me, i can come up with an idea based off of anything that might inspire me. like watching something, reading another story or just a dream i have. then i like to outline my stories by bouncing ideas with my best friend and from there once i figure out all the points i wanna hit i start writing! or for spur of the moment fics i deadass just start writing

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? yes, most likely.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? i love fwb to lovers and enemies to lovers! also soulmate!aus / tatbilb tropes cus i’m a sucker for cheesy stuff. i’m not a big fan of cheating/parent/apoc!aus or love triangles. oh and i can’t stand slow burn 😭

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? as someone who lives off of validation, it means a lot and motivates me to write my stories and post them! we put so much hard work into our stories, so feedback and engagement is honestly the least you can do 🥺

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? i think just being in a community with other talented writers has taught me a lot!! and of course, having people read my work.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? yes! all the time.

Do you think art can be a medium for change? yes, maybe not on a macro scale but personally definitely.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? sometimes, but i always try to pull myself back into why i really started writing. but writing for others helps motivate me.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? not on a serious level! it’s more so how details and events are interpreted but it’s fun to see how ppl have different perspectives on own piece versus your own vision.

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? yes!! not my family ofc but my close friends do and support me 100% and i’m forever grateful for this

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? thank you so much for everything you’ve ever done for me no matter how little or small it may seem, it means the world to me.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? i think you need to realize why you’re writing and it’s because it brings you happiness, and you’re sharing your beautiful work out there and it has the possibility to change someone’s life whether it’s bringing them a little bit of joy or helping them feel emotions. you might discover things you never knew about yourself as well.

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? not really! as of recently i’ve seen a lot of changes with the platform and although it’s a big struggle, i can’t regret it because it’s brought me so much.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? i’d hate to pick and choose because all my mutuals have really helped me in some way whether or not they know it because they inspire me, motivate me, and are just genuinely amazing people to talk to. but honestly talking to mary / @neostains, nana / @nanasarea, anie / @mjlkau have helped me open up from being shy and i appreciate them a whole lot.

Pick a quote to end your interview with: “to burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.” - spanish poet federico garcia lorca

#@jensungf #thesunnyshow #featuredauthor #episode 15 #nct dream

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reylofanfictionanthology · 6 years ago

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The Reylo Fanfiction Anthology St. Valentine’s Day Love Fest

This year, to celebrate St. Valentine’s Day, we wanted to show the Reylo Writing Community a little bit of love by hosting a Reylo Fanfiction St. Valentine’s Day Love Fest.

We will accept recommendations for this project until the end of February. You can find details about how to submit a recommendation to the project here.

Love Fest List #1/?

Reylo Community Recommendations

all true lovers are by addictedtoacertainlifestyle

Summary: She might seem lonely, but Ben can sense that this forest is her faithful audience, and she is nothing but alone. The birds chirp a symphony to her, and the greenery around her bows, grateful to be blessed by her beauty. She truly is beautiful, but that’s not the entire reason he is so drawn to her. It’s her Magic.

Recommendation by @politicalmamaduck and dearly: “This fic epitomizes everything I love about Reylo, and my favorite AUs (historical/fairytale/mythology). It's basically a fic that I wish I had written or was capable of writing. The writing is just gorgeous and evocative.“ and “a lovely fairytale au one-shot with a slightly dark Rey.”

Eidelweiss by aionimica

Summary: Captain Kylo Ren hires Rey, a postulant from the local abbey to be a governess for his adoptive children. As time goes on, music grows in the Ren household and the Captain and Rey must choose: love or duty?

Recommendation by crossingwinter: “Because it is the Sound of Music AU I didn't know I needed until I read it!”

A Reylo Christmas by Biekewieke

Summary: Complicated situations call for intricate solutions... So when Leia Organa asks her Personal Assistant Rey to join her on a family vacation in Mon Torri for the holidays and highlights a big bonus, what is she to do? Only catch... Leia's son is coming along...Ben Solo is the enfant terrible of the family. Broody, sullen and with a huge chip on his shoulder, the young man is notoriously difficult. Combine this with complicated family dynamics, and you'll end up with one very interesting holiday.

Recommendation by @noppoh: “It's the perfect, Hallmark-type, Christmas fic. It has all the elements -- the misunderstandings, the secrets, and covert looks -- without it becoming cheesy or cliché. I absolutely adore it.”

running on empty by Jessa

Summary: Rey's on Jakku. Kylo's about to land. Something intrigues them both.

Recommendation by tehanufromearthsea: “This is a set of six drabbles. I love it because I think Jessa makes Kylo and Rey's characters very real. She has a way of grounding them and their environment in vivid, telling details.”

You're Sick, I'll Humor You by LoveThemFiercely

Summary: Just a short, silly, sickfic from @glitzescape's Tumblr idea. It wedged itself into my brain while I was supposed to be writing something else, so here it is.

Recommendation by @nuanceismyjam: “It's short and simple and maybe a little silly, but it's also so so so sweet. I love the vulnerability of strong Ben Solo being a total baby when he's sick, and I love Rey shifting from her impatience to taking care of him. And the fact that she knows what movie he's going to ask for to the point that she loads it in the player before even asking which one he wants to watch? That makes me melt. I love me some soft!Ben, and we get that here in spades, even if it's because he's sick.”

miles we'll wander by meritmut

Summary: “I saw—a place,” she says, hesitates, forges ahead: “a planet. We were there. Both of us. I think—I think the Force was telling us to go there.”Her eyes are full of the stubborn faith that’s becoming so familiar to Ben: it draws him in.“I saw it too,” he breathes.

Recommendation by dearly: “Beautifully written canon divergence where Ben and Rey run off together.”

RFFA Writers Self Recommendations

(you’ll remember this) by addictedtoacertainlifestyle

Summary: A steady heartbeat; one look given, one returned. Again, and again. They are the waves, together in motion until the universe collapses or the Earth dries out. After that, they continue, orbit around one another like celestial bodies, perihelion and aphelion, closer and farther in a never-ending dance. Again, and again.

“I’m very proud of how it turned out. it’s my favourite fic I’ve written, because I didn’t hold myself back and wrote exactly what came to my mind. It has a very poetic outlook on things, but is still realistic in a beautiful way. It’s vague enough for people to make their own interpretations what is going on outside of the fic, but the moments described in the fic itself have that kind of mundane beauty that I love.”

Event Horizon by Arwen_Evenstar

Summary: The old, decrepit body has fallen, finally. Wasn’t that expected? After all, there was a long tradition in the Dark Side of students bringing death to their Masters. This was no different. The intent, the resolve, was there. It only needed that extra push. The girl. He felt the conflict stirring within his pupil. And, slowly, the conflict became too loud for him to ignore. Kylo would be forever marred by the Dark, there was no going back - he made sure of it. The girl could try as she might, she would never succeed in full. He would be condemned either way - there was too much Solo in him, but he carried a heavy legacy.

“It was my first solid, full story written for RFFA. It was an adventurous, exciting, tragic, love story, which ties with other stories that I am currently writing. I know its long, and perhaps its a wrong bet for me to propose it, but…I think it has so much of me in it…I had to propose it. Thank you for the opportunity.”

Syrup by cuddlesome

Summary: Rey offers Kylo her blood in an effort to get him to stop feeding on other members of the First Order.

“I love this fic because I really enjoy the idea of there being classic monster elements mixed in more with the main Star Wars canon. Vampires are really fun and Kylo is just perfect for it. I like to think about the logistics of having a terrifying bloodsucking commander in the First Order, how Snoke might control him, and Rey’s reaction to it.”

It Feels Like a Thousand Eyes by jitterygummy

Summary: "I lie awake and watch it all; It feels like thousand eyes" - Thousand Eyes by Of Monsters and Men Even with the thousands of eyes watching Rey and Kylo Ren, they find each other each anniversary. But a great deal can change over the course of a year.

“While it's an older fic, I still love how the style shows how much can change over the course of the year, and I think people might enjoy the dynamics of what could happen if Kylo had betrayed Snoke.”

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #valentine's day love fest #rffa writers #mod post #photo edit #love fest list

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areyawinninson · 6 years ago

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My Favorite Fics/ Fic Recs (Part 1???)

(I said I’d do it so.) ((Also These aren’t put any any particular order so.))

Hearts of Men and Yokai by GreyDayMoon

Author’s Summary:

Katsuki was relaxing in the forest simply enjoying his peaceful world when a small six year old green haired incarnation of trouble came across him. Even worse, the kid seemed to be able to see yokai. Now fully annoyed but also intrigued, watch Katsuki interact with the child.

OR: An AU inspired by Natsume and the Book of Friends and Kamisama Kiss

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

I really do love this fic with all my heart and soul! It’s so pure and cute! Plus Kitsune Katsuki is a weakness of mine! I’m not quite caught up with it yet but so far It’s great

This contains / warnings:

At least in the beginning Izuku is underage but I believe the author said Izuku will be aged up later on.

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2,645 Miles by mynameis152

Author’s summary:

Izuku wants so badly to get to the other side of the country without his parents realizing he's missing. He just wants to find out who he is.

Katsuki is desperate to make it to Los Angeles without being caught by the police, desperate to fix his mistakes.

Neither know what to expect, but on a roadtrip across the U.S. involving four fugitives, two oblivious runaways, a high risk crime ring, and a police taskforce, the two will discover that there's more in store for them than what they originally thought.

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I didn’t know this fic was complete till I went looking for it to put in here! I really love this fic. A lot! All the characters are amazing and everything is so smooth. I’m gonna need to start rereading some parts again but I do remember many homework assignment missed and sleep lots from the fic so don’t do what I did and read it over the weekend. (though it was kinda worth it.)

This contains / warnings:

I can’t really think of anything too bad in this fic (I sadly haven’t read it in awhile.) But I do remember there was a attempt at rape at some point (not by Bakugo or Deku,) It’s tagged it the story itself and it probably put in the author’s notes for that chapter with a warning as well. (But don’t quote me on that.)

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Welcome to Magnolia Springs! by pearliegrimm

Author’s Summary:

Bakugou Katsuki was going to tear up this shitty suburbia, one school bake sale at a time. Amongst the quinoa encrusted mundanity of fuck-knows springs, Katsuki is in for a lot more than just another relocation.

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Another fic I didn’t know ended. I never laughed so hard at anything before in my life. It you ever wanted to laugh so hard it hurts this is the fic. I can never listen to Africa by Toto the same again. This was one of the first Bkdk fics I’ve read so it definitely means a lot to me. (Also if you look at the comment and see some guy with a dumb username talking about how sleep deprived he is it’s me. I feel bad about leaving all those dumb comments now but they’re kinda funny to look back on.)

This contains / warnings:

There is homophobia that appears kinda a lot in the fic but it’s also super satisfying to see the people who said it get wrecked so it’s kinda a win-win. Also there was abuse but it’s mentioned a lot less.

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This post is already to long so that’s all I’ll put. (for now??? Maybe???)

#bkdk #bakudeku #katsudeku #bkdk fanfic recs #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fan fiction #i've never done this before #so go easy on me please

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wonderlustlucas · 6 years ago

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joie de vivre - kim yugyeom

⇢ prompt “What an odd individual. What an odd joy.” ⇢ pairing yugyeom x female reader ⇢ word count 10.7k ⇢ genre fluff & comedy ⇢ warnings swearing & a gross amount of fluff ⇢ summary (i couldn’t come up w a summary but camille did so here u go heheh) In this sweet and relatable story of hopeful romance and inner girl power, you find yourself meeting and getting to know the effervescent boys of GOT7. With exotic food orders and the unmistakable heart-fluttering that defines young love, Joie de Vivre delivers a humorous and cleverly fun take on the awesomeness of your favorite K-pop stars.—beach!au ⇢ a/n wow i can’t believe i’m finally posting this. since july i have deserted & gone back to this damn chapter so many times & i’m just so happy i can finally post it. nevertheless, considering it’s almost christmas & i have zero summer vibes left, this is probably going to be on hold for a looong time since i have so many autumn & winter inspired works i wanna write, so i apologize for the tease. i’d also like to give a big shoutout to my friend camille who edited this for me (along with helping me in various other ways) since i didn’t have time:) & last but not least, i wanted to have this up for yugyeom’s birthday but couldn’t make time, so happy belated birthday to my love, i hope your year is full of all the happiness in the world❥

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moodboard

Contrary to all the whining and complaining that ensues at the start of each grueling summer year, it truly is the beginning of the most thrilling months.

A time when, despite the startlingly tremendous surge of obnoxious, vape-induced teenagers hoarding the boardwalk like flies drawn to an outdoor barbeque, and the influx of ignorant young children flopping through the ocean waves like they are training to become fish, there is always a milieu of genuine elation hanging in the air.

This constant joy—whether it is emanating from the relaxation that oozes from unwinding vacationers flooding the beach and boardwalk, continuous hours wasted away doing nothing and days melting into one another, or simply the enkindling of town—makes up for all the downsides that arise with the start of summer.

Over years of enduring this unnamed cycle of life, you have come to appreciate that there are four types of joy; the expected, the unexpected, the habitual, and the unknown.

The expected—a joy with which you are familiar and the elation it will give you.

The unexpected—aware of the plan, but not expecting the joy that will result from it.

The habitual—occurring so frequently that, while still appealing, is more of a routine rather than a new and exciting experience.

And the unknown—any choice resulting in a different ending, a different joy.

However, despite recognizing these, the unknown sort of joy is the most enigmatic because, named for this specific reason, you never know when it is happening or when it will be.

Even so, one such occurrence is most certainly not a habitual joy. Rather, a royal pain in your ass: when Kim Jinae, in an effort that you could never grasp entirely, decides to wake not only herself but also the two of you up at a time that you should most definitely still be dead asleep nearly every day during your months off.

“You know,” you huff, deeply inhaling the morning ocean hair to fill your lungs. Your body is sagging in sheer exhaustion as you follow her peppy steps—how is she still so fired up?—a few feet behind, sneakers skidding lazily against the worn wood of the boardwalk. "I really miss when your shift was in the morning, and we worked out at night. I hope you know I hate you for guilt-tripping me into this."

Jinae scoffs, coming to a stop and whipping around. “I’m sorry, but who wants to spend the whole damn day down at the beach? And who guilt-tripped who into switching shifts?”

You huff heavily, accepting defeat because she's right, but you would never tell her. You look away to peek at the waves approaching the shore nearly a football field away that reflect apricots and azaleas on the horizon from the remaining sunrise. Your irritated thoughts are replaced with the wonder of today’s plan. “Speaking of, what are we doing today?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. You make a mental note to never ask her anything again because—Lord knows—Jinae is zero help. “I assumed we were just doing the usual.”

You sigh, following her silently down the wooden steps from the boardwalk, the ocean now faintly hushed behind you. You wipe away a bead of sweat dripping down from your hairline. “Can you make breakfast before I have to leave?”

Jinae mutters something under her breath, then twists around to face you. “You’re a real brat, you know?”

You beam. “Learned it from the best.”

Your first joy, practically your best friend since you could walk, quite possibly your soulmate—Kim Jinae.

While some days do in fact seem to drag on endlessly, working only four hours a day and four days a week during the summer months is a bargain worth paying for and an opportunity sent by the heavens. It pays what your parents don’t, you tell yourself when service is slow and customers bark at you as if you’re the one doing the cooking. A little extra in the cookie jar, you whisper under your breath after covering eight tables at once, shifting uncomfortably in your uniform as perspiration dribbles down your spine while darting from the sweltering kitchen to each consecutive table.

However, most days seemingly fly by. After all, eight to twelve are prime breakfast hours, and so the quaint diner is not half as cruel as some prior jobs. Not to mention, it is right on the boardwalk, which makes meeting up with Jinae for the rest of the day well spent at the beach even simpler.

Upon setting down the check for your last table and offering a polite farewell, you scan the room curiously until, after a few seconds of concern, your gaze lands on a certain busboy setting down silverware on a recently cleaned booth. "Hey Markipooh," you coo, greeting the unacceptably gorgeous brunette and sliding across the tiled marble floor to stand beside him and to help finish laying out paper placemats.

Mark Tuan—the Devil in Disguise. During your first few days at the new job, you were quietly aware of the only other employee that took advantage of the locker room, initially an exceptionally attractive blonde who had not even graced you with a glance since you started.

That was, until hardly a week later, you found yourself packing up for the day when he entered to do the same.

“Woah, you’re a brunette now.” It slipped out before your brain could truly even process the sentence, gears positively malfunctioning in your head because God, he’s hot but God, you’re an idiot. He blinked, running a hand through his darkened locks and eyeing you curiously for an agonizingly long heartbeat before he straightforwardly said, “It’s pink, actually.”

Oh, so he’s sarcastic. “Hilarious,” you retorted, watching curiously as he made way for his own locker. “I’m glad to see that you do in fact talk, though.”

He laughed lightly, a percussion that made your heart soar. He disregarded a chiming notification from his phone to stare intensely back at your inquiring gaze, saying, “Is that what keeps you up at night? Whether or not your incredibly hot co-worker is mute?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Don’t flatter yourself, you're not that special.”

And so, it came to be that the busboy was not who he seemed to be. Like two puzzle pieces that fit together seamlessly, you clicked with Mark so quickly that even Jinae seemed to impatiently grow jealous. Tirelessly cunning, Mark is a perfect force against your own quick-wittedness. However, he is a precious munchkin of a boy when he wants to be. The fact that he has not only been to but has lived in so many places in the span of twenty-four years, plus his expansive knowledge of more languages than you could ever possibly grasp, has heartily drawn you in until, you have realized your second joy—Mark Tuan.

And here you are, hardly two months later.

Instead of replying verbally, Mark only glares at you coldly before, finally, "You're going to use that against me for the rest of my life, aren't you?"

You grin mischievously at the mathematics major—well, the mathematics major working on his Master’s, as he likes to remind you at every chance that presents itself—and follow him once he makes way to the otherwise empty locker room.

“Probably,” you chuckle while slipping the suffocatingly hot sneakers off your feet. You check the door behind you once more before peeling your top and bra off and replacing them with the navy-blue bathing suit top shoved haphazardly into your locker. You add, “It’s really funny seeing you get annoyed.”

“It’s really funny seeing you get annoyed,” Mark mimics under his breath, voice uncharacteristically high to impersonate your own, as you slip a plain tee-shirt from high school over your head. “I had to become friends with the spawn of Satan, of all people.”

You laugh, shimmying out of your pants and underwear and swiftly pulling up the matching bathing suit bottoms. “You know I love you.”

“Nuh-uh,” Mark grumbles from somewhere behind you. You are too preoccupied with trying to fold your clothes as nicely as possible into your bag. He continues, “Don’t pull that shit on me. Just ‘cos you’re a senior now doesn’t mean I’m gonna deal with your crap.”

“Just because you’re a senior now,” you mimic as he had, only he interrupts your shenanigans with a hard punch to your arm as the two of you head outside. “Anyway,” he sighs, ignoring your scowl and pausing to inhale the briny aroma that never seems to leave the thick ocean air, “I don’t know what your plans are, but some of my friends are working at a joint that opened recently, and I was hoping you’d come?”

“Is this just another sneaky plan to hang out with Jinae?” You chuckle, digging into his side with your elbow. He gasps, “Hey! Maybe I’m just being a nice friend.”

“Oh, yeah, a friend,” you snort. At the genuine pout that clouds his expression, however, you stop and hook your arm through his. “Don’t worry, I promised I would be your wingwoman, didn’t I?”

Mark sighs, shrugging. Then he says, “Why couldn’t I have fallen for you instead?”

With a noise of amusement and disbelief that sounds like something between a snicker and a choke, you rest your head against his bicep momentarily before glancing up at him. “You’re too hot for me.”

“Sure, and pigs fly. I’m actually kind of worried that my friends are going to pounce on you.”

You scoff. “Yeah, okay. Speaking of, who are these friends of yours?”

“Oh!” Mark exclaims, visibly brightening, his white teeth dazzling as he smiles. “So there’s six of ‘em. We all ended up meeting each other at the studio for the first dance class.”

“Pause,” you interject, surprised. “They all go to the same school as us?”

He nods eagerly. “They’re all getting their Master’s, too. Youngjae just graduated with Jinae, and I think BamBam is in your class. Yugyeom is a grade below, I believe.”

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. “BamBam? Like, the—”

“The really cute, bubbly loudmouth?”

“Yeah! You’re friends with BamBam?” You gape. What a small world, you think. When you glance up you happen to notice Jinae waving like a madwoman several feet ahead. You wave back, however, Mark’s snort interrupts you. “What?” He says. “Am I not cool enough to be friends with him?”

You giggle. Though it is tempting to agree, you do not feel like delving into a full roasting session. You instead opt for, “No, shut up and stop being insecure. I was just surprised. I never spoke with him, but we had calculus together.”

Mark only hums in agreement. You assume that by reaching Jinae he has suddenly clammed up. You clear your throat. “Jinae! Mark has plans for us!”

Whether Mark notices it or not, you certainly catch the way Jinae’s face brightens, her enchanting brown eyes scrunching in delight. They’re so into one another, you think, just as she gushes, “No way! Let’s go, then! Where at?”

Your gut truly twists as a result of the saccharine sweetness between the two, an indisputable and perpetual attracting force that all people but the pair can recognize. In an instant, you clear your throat after a disgustingly long amount of time passes of them just staring at each other before you end up with a cavity. “C’mon, then. I’m not going to wait all day.”

Mark jolts, turning to you as the apples of his cheeks bloom pink. He scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah—Yeah, let’s go.”

You cannot help the satisfied smirk that comes with him rushing ahead and Jinae positively melting into a pile of mush. You snort, patting her flushed cheeks and following Mark’s speedy path ahead of Jinae’s delayed trailing.

Like most shops and grills lining the boardwalk, JJ’s—as you learned several minutes later once the two bounced back after whatever happened moments ago—is just the same.

With an entirely open entrance, aside from two small table-and-chair sets halfway on the boardwalk and halfway under the ceiling and walls painted butterscotch orange, the grill is squeezed between an unnecessarily expensive jewelry store and a bustling candy shop. The mouthwatering aroma of bulgogi and honey soy filling your senses is a grand contrast to the briny odor from outside. It’s so small you wonder if customers even order to stay, yet it is not cramped in any way—within a space of ten feet, give or take, there is shelving on each set of parallel walls, wide enough to dine at, with two metal chairs tucked in front, a black refrigerator stocked with cold drinks, the counter, which is checkered marble and decorated with a change jar and a vase of snapdragons, is to the right of a sliding barn door painted with doodles of the beach and a lighthouse.

Beyond the counter is a small kitchen with deep fryers to the left and three large aluminum dishes full of fried chicken resting on an island in the middle of the room. The archway that leads to an unknown area occupying the rest of the space is blocked by a plain maroon curtain; with one last scan of the quaint space and another deep inhale, you conclude that, even before tasting anything, this may be your new favorite place to eat.

Your captivated daze is cut short by the voice working behind the counter.

“Mark-hyung!” None other than BamBam calls from his perch on a stool, silver hair pushed up and over his forehead in a messy comma-shaped style. Mark scoffs, “Stop calling me hyung in front of my friends. It makes me feel old.”

“Is that Mark?” Shouts a disembodied voice as BamBam hops from his seat and slides open the drawn-on door. You glance to Jinae, whose baffled expression most certainly mirrors your own, just as said voice bolts over to greet your eldest friend.

“Mark!” Roars an unreasonably attractive brunette, shoving BamBam to the side so roughly that you lean back a bit just to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.

“Jesus, you guys are so fake. Stop putting on a show. My friends are normal,” huffs Mark, sending the loud newcomer a condescending glare. Just as you begin to think you have gone invisible, he twists to you with a beaming boyish grin that reaches his eyes. “Jackson, BamBam, this is ___,” he says, introducing you and resting his palm on the small of your back. “and Jinae,” he adds.

“Hello!” Shouts another figure who you had not spotted working behind the counter. Like BamBam and this Jackson, he too is classically handsome, and you practically feel your stomach twist into knots at the sudden intensity of it all, not one but four strikingly gorgeous young men—where have they been your whole life?—in one room that is most definitely tinier now, and you cannot breathe, and there’s still three more you have yet to meet?

“Hey.” BamBam’s chirpy voice—having not heard it since sophomore year, you reckon that it matches the sweetness of his facial features—interrupts your short-lived tizzy of emotions. “weren’t you in my calculus class?”

“Yeah, that would be me,” you nod, smiling in response to his own heartwarming grin. “I didn’t know you lived around here.”

“Youngjae?” Jinae’s gasp cuts into BamBam’s potential answer. Evident surprise is laced in her tone as the aforementioned employee rounds the counter. Your gaze flicks back and forth from her and Mark to his three friends, not knowing where to focus. You decide on Jackson—Hell, he’s nice to look at—and find yourself thanking the heavens that fate has made it so Mark entered your life and has ultimately led you to a much too small grill, containing way too many blessed genes all at once.

“You look lost,” says the brunette god himself, catching on to your hazy staring and shuffling to stand beside you, “not that I blame you.” You laugh lightly, dragging your gaze from the distracting way his dark hair falls over his forehead to Jinae and Youngjae bubbling away, something about not having seen one another since graduation, and how they both will be working on their Master’s. Finally you look to Mark, who stands beside BamBam with an expression of delight gracing his features, watching two separate groups of friends intermingle.

“Yeah, this is a bit much,” you admit at last, refocusing on him once the cogs inside your brain begin working again. “I like it, though.”

Jackson grins widely and you positively swoon. He laughs. “Sorry to break it to you, but if you’ve survived three years avoiding Bam, your life is probably going to go downhill from here.”

“Hey!” The plump-lipped model—oh, he could definitely be a model parading down the runway with that face—cuts in, his brows drawn together in mock irritation. You choke, making a noise of surprise when he continues, pulling you into a tight side hug. “This is the beginning of the best chapters of their lives.”

“Keep dreaming, bud,” Mark snorts, slapping his shoulder. You watch from under his chin as BamBam frowns, shooting your friend a glare that could most definitely kill if it weren’t for the dazzling grin that follows.

“Where’s everyone else?” Mark questions as BamBam unwinds his arms from around you��why do they have to be hot and nice?

“Dad and Dad are trying to fix the sink and Yugyeom is...” Jackson says. Rubbing at his bottom lip, he trails off, looking to Youngjae and BamBam. “Where is Yugyeom?”

“I think he went to get chocolate milk,” Youngjae chuckles, dark hair falling over his eye as he does so. “You know how he is.” You look to Jackson, whispering, “Who’s Dad and Dad?”

“Jaebum and Jinyoung. They own this place, plus we’re all pretty certain that they’re an item, so we call them that. They’re in the back,” he explains, nodding to the archway. At this, you hear the muffled noises bustling from behind the curtain that you had not noticed beforehand.

“And Yugyeom?”

“Oh,” Jackson smirks again—trouble—and makes his way back to the counter, “He’s the big ol’ goof. You’ll like him.”

“You guys have bubble tea, right?” Mark changes the subject as Youngjae and BamBam follow Jackson. With them not clustered around you any longer, you take another moment to glance all around, pausing your meandering to glance over the options on the menu. Fried chicken, tacos, rice bowls, kimchi fried riceballs... kimchi cheese fries? You jab your elbow into Jinae's side, nodding to the overhanging menu, "Kimchi cheese fries, dude."

"That's definitely not part of my diet."

"Oh, fuck the diet," you hiss, earning a sharp glare, but you roll your eyes nevertheless.

"No, the bubble tea menu is just there for fun," Jackson snorts, finally responding to Mark’s question and grinning like a madman. Youngjae is howling, smiling so bright you fear his whole jaw may break. "Hilarious," Mark grumbles, turning to you for backup. When he finds you mirroring Jackson's expression, though, he frowns. "This was a mistake."

"Oh, lighten up," you coo, ruffling his parted hair, but he smacks your hand away with a huff. You roll your eyes and look to BamBam, who stands ready for your order. You say, "I'll have a large black milk with tapioca and, uh, hm—a chicken rice bowl."

"Sure," he hums, tapping the screen. "That's gonna be fifteen ninety-one.”

"Make it ten," Jackson butts in, grinning like he just won the lottery. Oh, you're burning up now. You smile to the floor but hide it as you fish for money in your pocket. "Thanks," you manage to croak out, passing the cash to BamBam. After he’s finished, he smacks Jackson on the shoulder, muttering something about his discounts for hot girls putting them out of business, which causes the elder to howl in faux pain while shuffling to the archway to yell back your order. You watch the entire episode with an amused smile that can’t seem to leave your face. You shake your head and at last move to sit on one of the barstools while Jinae orders.

“Should I pay for hers?” Mark whispers, leaning onto the ledge with an expression of apprehension etched onto his face. He chews on his lip. “Yeah, that’s sweet,” you grin, and with an encouraging squish of his cheeks, you push him forward.

You watch, utterly zoned in and praying to every god out there that he does not turn into an awkward pile of mush. The grin can’t seem to leave your face when he steps up beside her and—

“Oh my God, he’s become a man,” says a voice from beside you suddenly. You nearly jump out of your skin, jerking in your seat. “Holy fucking shit!” You wheeze, clapping a hand over your heart but, alas, this does not comfort the additional torment your essential organ faces once you look up to said tormentor.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the boy-man-squish giggles—he giggles—with pinkpinkpink, heart-shaped lips pulling back to reveal quite possibly the cutest and most endearing smile you have ever seen.

And, just like that, you sit there, dumbfounded, positively enamored by this—this attacker, with every last working brain cell stuttering to a halt to admire him. “Oh,” you laugh—or was that another wheeze?—with a cough, then you clear your throat, squinting in some sort of weak attempt to make eye contact instead of gawking at his windblown, light golden brown hair that, conveniently, falls right into his eyes. However, as soon as you focus on the darkness of his irises, you realize you are totally, unquestionably screwed, lost in the depths of his nearly black eyes—obsidian is a better word—and even though there is nothing astoundingly exceptional or different about him, you simply cannot help feeling absolutely overwhelmed within a matter of seconds.

“That’s okay,” you finally force out. “I just didn’t see you come in.”

He smiles softer this time, and while your heart still jumps at the expression, you force yourself to look back to Mark and Jinae before a heart attack ensues. You come to find you missed whatever proceeded Mark’s initiative. However, judging by the threatening smiles and rosy cheeks, you assume it had to have gone well, and so your interest that's burning like a wildfire to peek at the boy that remains beside you proves to be preeminent.

Upon twisting back around, you take notice to the plastic twenty-two-ounce convenience store cup, full of what looks like chocolate milk, gripped lazily in his hand, an outrageous juxtaposition to his height and strong features. Condensation drips from the bottom and onto the tiled floor. You ask, hardly without thinking, “Are you Yugyeom?”

“That’s me,” Yugyeom hums, eyes scrunching into precious crescents as he smiles. “How’d you know?”

“They were talking about where you were earlier,” you say, waving your hand to the others. “Mentioned chocolate milk, so I assumed that was you.”

“Of course. That seems to be my only known trait,” snorts Yugyeom, sending his friends a condescending glare despite them being deep in their own conversations. You snort out a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand when his eyes fly back to soak in your reaction. You compose yourself, then say, “That’s not true. Jackson called you a goof.”

“Wow,” he sighs, frowning, and you watch with a grin etched onto your face as he slaps a hand over his chest. “What did Jinyoung say? Do I have to kill him?”

Snorting quieter this time, you shake your head. “I haven’t met him, so he didn’t say anything. Homicide is not necessary today, bud.”

Yugyeom beams—fuck, it is so unfair to be this good-looking—lifting his cup up to take a long sip. “Hold up,” he pauses, chewing on the straw, “are you ___?” Upon hearing your name fall from his lips, you sit up straighter in your seat as if being on a name-basis suddenly changes things. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Mark has a habit of talking about you and Jinae when he’s with us, seeing that you’re his only other friends,” Yugyeom says proudly, diverting his gaze to the aforementioned boy who is settled beside Jinae at the other seats. He takes another sip of his drink. “Well, it’s mostly about your friend, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget how many days he went on about there being a girl in the locker room.”

Your mouth falls open. “No way!”

“Totally serious. He was annoyed about not having the room for himself for a while, but he always whined about you being pretty, and then one day he started complaining about how sarcastic you are and how he can never win with you, so I guess his little crush ended. And then he met Jinae,” Yugyeom explains, grinning mischievously. “And we all know how it is now.”

“I’m—wow,” you whisper, flabbergasted, mostly from the clarification but also, deep down, hearing the unfairly tall boy use the adjective pretty while talking about you. “I’m glad they met, then. He’s too stinky and old for me.”

“Wait, aren’t—”

BamBam’s sudden calling of your name interrupts whatever the blonde was about to ask. You nearly stumble out of the barstool but relax upon realizing he has only placed your order on the counter, ready for you to grab. “I got it,” pipes Yugyeom from beside you and, heart hammering in your chest, you watch with starry eyes as he places his cup beside you before skipping over and taking your tea and a disposable paper bowl from the counter.

“Thanks,” you smile appreciatively as he places the order in front of you. You twist to sit correctly in your seat. Instead of staring at the wall, you watch curiously as the iced chocolate boy shimmies onto the chair next to you. You clear your throat. “You were saying?”

“Hm?—Oh! Yeah, aren’t you in the class above mine?”

You nod, tearing open the chopstick packet and diving right into the dangmyeon and honey soy chicken. “That’s what Mark told me.” You pause, stuffing food into your mouth. “Although, if I were to judge you by your height,” you chew, letting out a mesmerized sigh at the unacceptably delicious flavors, “I would have thought you were older.”

Yugyeom, smiling charmingly once more, breaks into laughter. “Would you want to try that again without your mouth full?”

You gape, kicking his shin before silently realizing you’re not close enough with him to do that. Grumbling, you say, “What else am I supposed to do when you’re trying to talk to me when I’m eating?”

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll leave you be,” he chuckles to himself, taking a slow sip of his milk, and you look back to your meal, digging down to the rice and prodding tacky clumps into your mouth. Your neck suddenly begins to prickle at the notion that you’re being watched. With another mouthful, you slurp up a dangling noodle before building up the courage to look at the blonde only to find him already watching you intently, a lazy smile softening his features.

“You know,” you say as he raises a brow. You take a sip of your tea for effect, nearly choking on an unexpected tapioca ball. You continue, “A stranger watching you eat is rather uncomfortable, especially when it comes to noodles.”

“What else is there to do? Talk to Mark and his girlfriend?” Yugyeom retorts playfully, nodding to the pair, and you smack yourself when the idea of pushing away a stray strand of hair that falls into his left eye arises. Instead, you follow his gaze to Jinae and Mark cheerfully talking away.

“Point taken. Don’t you work here, or something?”

“I get out at one,” he confirms, chuckling when you oh-so-gracefully miss your mouth. Rice lands on your bare thigh. His gaze trails the grains and, upon realizing your lack of clothing, his cheeks flush cherry red, and you fight back a laugh. Deciding to save him from his internal, middle school boy panic, you continue, checking the time on your phone, “It’s one now. Yet when I got here, you weren’t working.”

“I had to get my iced choco.”

“But… don’t you need to work?”

“Eh,” he twists to look at the three behind the counter. “They don’t need me.”

“I don’t think that’s how jobs work, but okay,” you laugh, picking up the dumpling—Jesus, why is everything so good?—and, panicking over the fact that the conversation is ending, you opt to continue, devouring your meal in silence.

Barely two swallows later, a hand slaps against your shoulder and you drop yet another mound of rice as you lurch in surprise.

“Do you like swimming? In the ocean?”

Jackson, looking way more handsome than your average employee should—you’d love to meet the parents of everyone in this room—grins mischievously down at you, dropping his hand.

“Of course. My parents practically threw me into the sea the day I was born,” you joke, slapping yourself on the back when he rears his head to let out a roaring, high-pitched laugh. “Why?”

“On days when we get out at the same time, we always head down and stay until, like, seven. Do you guys want to come with us?”

“Oh.” Nearly choking on the lack of a response, you twist to look at Yugyeom, who watches with the same gentle smile that has not left his face. You cough, turning back around. “Definitely! That’ll be fun. Who is us, though?”

“Me, Jackson, Youngjae, and Bam,” Yugyeom interjects. Once more you turn and offer him a thankful smile before glancing back to Jackson, then past him to Mark and Jinae still chattering away over their meals like two doves sharing a bird bath. You sigh, half out of the dejection that comes with achieving the role of a third wheel but partially over the greedy realization that this means you may have these new friends to yourself. You clear your throat, glancing back between Yugyeom and Jackson before you say, “Are you the type of guys who like to yell ‘shark’ when we’re swimming?”

Jackson smirks. “Shit, are you not into that?”

Within the span of the time it takes for the foursome to change behind a dumpster outside of the grill and join you on your walk down through the sand, you have come to learn four things.

One—these five boys together are louder than any colony of seagulls fighting over a half-bite of a sandwich (if you have ever been the victim of that scene).

Two—Youngjae and Mark are co-parents to a fur child.

“You’re a dad?” You initially hissed, nearly dropping all the belongings you carried. “Coco is a dog,” Mark sighed, clearly exasperated by your conclusion-jumping. You rolled your eyes. “You never told me you had a dog.”

Three—Mark’s friends have a very in-depth plan to give him and Jinae their final push.

“You have to stay as distant from them as possible. We’re going to be your new best friends,” Jackson whispered once you fell in step beside him. “How do you plan on getting them together?” You whispered back, laughter lacing your tone at the idea of scheming on their future relationship. Jackson paused, blinking. He looked to Yugyeom on your side, who casually shrugged.

“We’ll have to leave during random times so they’re left alone together,” BamBam piped up from beside Jackson, nodding to the aforementioned pair walking ahead.

And four—when you are not used to it, insecurity has the claws of a vulture and the weight of an anchor.

And yet, insecurity may be the wrong word. Whatever it is, it sparks a small fire in your tummy, and butterflies are gradually coming to life at your obvious delay, barely there until you proceed to remove your tee. At this, you are startlingly aware of the quick glances thrown your way, and this is when it grows. Or, were there even glances? Had you imagined it? Yeah, that’s what happened, you tell yourself, laying your blanket onto the lumpy sand with unexpected accuracy that only comes with years of doing so. No, they’re staring, definitely staring. An internal panic—an unknown panic—now a forest fire, heart thumping against a glass ribcage. No, nobody is even looking.

You cast an inspecting glance over your newfound group, all mindlessly busy with their own belongings, until—there it is!—there's a fleeting peek from choco boy. You gulp, catching the way the right side of his mouth quirks up. Once you catch his agonizingly long stare, you look away, focusing on flattening the edges of the blanket until you realize, fuck, your boobs, practically spilling out like the Niagara Falls broadcasted on television for all to see with this position. Scrambling to stand upright—fuck the blanket—you skip on the sunscreen orgy and hurry towards the white blanket of froth that forms as the tide gradually approaches the shore, sighing in relief as your toes come into contact with the nippiness of the waves.

So. That’s what it was. Who it was. Shivering against the waves, you trudge on, dodging a wailing child who stomps madly toward his mother. You sigh blissfully as the burning temperature of your skin—whether it be from your fizzing nerves or from the sun beating down relentlessly—drastically cools once you duck through a wave.

In the past you were able to brush off passing thoughts of those around you, those watching you and possibly judging you, by starting up a conversation with Jinae, and even when Mark began joining you, he was so enamored by her that you knew you had nothing to worry about.

However, this is the first time in years you are at the beach with a group predominantly male.

Pushing back your now saturated hair and kicking your legs to stay afloat, you spin to look for your crowd, squinting at the shore that fades into liquid gold, vivid in the brilliant light, and search through the masses of gaudily colored umbrellas and chairs until you catch sight of your blanket and what looks like Mark practicing a backflip in the sand. Mark, Jinae, Youngjae, BamBam… fuck. Recounting, with your fingers this time, and still coming up with a measly four, you shudder into a silent panic all over again, rifling through the clustered vacationers for two certain boys. However, once you do in fact locate the duo resurfacing after diving with aesthetic synchronization under a wave, it seems to only benefit in their search for you, seeing as the older of the two beams like a star and quickens his pace.

“Thought we lost you there for a second,” Jackson greets. At this, you conclude that you may never get over his smile, and you force yourself to turn to the horizon in order to gather your thoughts. “Well,” you grin, looking between him and Yugyeom, both tanned honey gold from daily exposure to the sun, “You found me.”

“What happened back there? You looked like you saw a ghost,” Yugyeom continues, staring up at him. You wonder whether or not the glint in his eyes is innocent but brush it off as simple, playful banter. “I don’t know,” you lie, shrugging. “I think I just got really hot.”

Jackson hums, oblivious to the unexpected tension that has you longing to swim off to another nation and never return. “Do you think it’ll work?”

Yugyeom shrugs, finally breaking eye contact in order to look to his hyung. “Yeah, I mean, at least in the beginning. Don’tcha think they’ll catch on eventually, though?”

In the midst of focusing on jumping up with the current of the waves, you process their words, realizing you really do not even know what they are talking about. “Does this have to do with Mark and Jinae?”

“Mhm,” Jackson starts. “While we’re here, Bam and Youngjae are conveniently going to take a nap.”

“Oh, smart. You guys are really serious about setting them up, aren’t you?”

“At this rate, they aren’t going to do it themselves,” Jackson chuckles, running a hand through his darkened locks, pushing wet strands back. Your gaze absently follows the action. Barely a heartbeat later, salt water is splashed at your face, stinging at your eyes, but you are quick to squeeze them closed. Upon opening them again, you come to find Jackson, eyes wide and honest, and Yugyeom, biting down on rosy lips to hide his laughter.

“Did you just—” splash.

He does it again!

“Oh, you ass!” You yelp, lunging forward and reaching out for the younger boy’s shoulders. No matter how new of a friend he is, this is war. You fight against the strong tug of the ocean at your body. Cackling like a hyena, Yugyeom dodges your weak attempt of a punch, smacking away your insistent hands and shit, you can’t touch the floor anymore. In a split-second decision, you dive beneath the surface and peel open your eyes as much as you can despite the salty sting prompting you to close them. You swim toward your assailant, wrapping your hands around his leg, just above the knee. When you dig your nails lightly into his skin, you nearly choke on a mouthful of water at just how muscular his thigh is. When he starts to squirm away from your grasp, all mouthwatering daydreams about the thighs your new friend possess disappear, and you regain your pose, releasing his leg for hardly a second, just long enough to dig your fingers instead into his side and resurface.

“Stop!” He whines, thrashing away from your tickling. He splashes more water your way as a result. Once he finally trips over his own feet and his head submerges under an approaching wave you finally relent, backstroking away from him to an amused Jackson. “What a thot,” you grumble, rubbing the sting away from your eyes and warily watching the child as he recovers from your attack. “I met you guys hardly an hour ago and suddenly we’re close enough to beat one another up.”

Jackson shrugs, flicking your shoulder, and you shoot him a warning glare.

“I told you we’re going to have to be your new best friends,” he says.

“You! I could’ve died!” Shouts a bewildered Yugyeom as he swims over, looking way too gorgeous for someone who just got knocked by a wave. Despite his playful exaggeration, you smack away the finger he waggles in your face with an eye roll. “You splashed water in my face! Twice!”

“You were staring!”

“Staring? Staring at what?” You snort, unable to even recall what was happening before he suddenly splashed you. “I—hm. Nothing,” he sighs, the apples of his cheeks blooming pink. He looks down and focuses on the ripples of the water. “Never mind.”

“Ooh. ‘Kay,” you laugh awkwardly, looking to Jackson, who mirrors your puzzled expression. Finally letting silence settle in comfortably, you look to the shore in search of Jinae’s obnoxious rainbow umbrella to find all four lying on their towels.

“Anyway, I’m going to see how things are going. Try not to kill each other,” Jackson smirks—how dare he—before moving with the current to shallower waters.

Now what?

Praying to every god out there that conversation will come as fluidly as it did back at JJ’s, you look to Yugyeom, only to witness him with his leg held to his chest as he pulls a shell from between his toes. You wrinkle your nose, laughing, “Did you just pick that up with your foot?”

“It bit me!” He whines, frowning.

“The shell bit you?”

“No,” he caves, grinning stunningly. “It’s a hermit crab.” As he speaks, he moves closer to you, rolling the small cerith shell onto his palm before holding it out to you. “Aw,” you pout, pushing your wet hair away from your face to lean closer as the crab hesitantly taps Yugyeom’s hand with its claws. “They’re so cute.”

He snorts. “Not when they bite you.”

“That’s called karma,” you smirk, cupping your hands for him to drop the crab into. “People who splash their new friends and practically blind them get bitten by crabbies.”

“You’re very dramatic,” Yugyeom says, watching you the same way you adoringly watch the hermit crab. Your attention, however, is not so fixated on the small crustacean in your hand as it is on the slow rise and fall of Yugyeom’s chest—right there in front of you. Tears of water race down the toned muscles of his stomach each time the water level climbs and retreats. You’re just in the middle of ogling when you take notice to the sharp, black edges of tattoos on his sides, more so to the intricate pattern you can only partially see on his right. No, you scold yourself. What are you doing? You just met him today. Shaking your head to rid your mouthwatering daydreaming, you say, “So are you, Mr. I-splashed-you-for-staring. By the way, let me see your tattoo.”

“You’re not going to have it pinch me, right?” He chuckles cautiously, casting a wary glance to said it, and you laugh, gently letting the waves take the hermit crab out of your hands with a shake of your head. “I said I wanted to see it, not pinch it.”

Rolling his eyes, Yugyeom finally lifts his toned arm up to offer a better view to the precise design of a flower, a rose, on his side. You ignore his quiet intake of breath when your fingers subconsciously trace at the detailed ink. “It’s so pretty. I’d kill to do something like this.”

Yugyeom shrugs. “You should, then.”

You scoff, finally stepping back. “I wish, but then I’d have to deal with my parents. They already threw a tantrum when I got my first.”

“Can I see?”

“Oh,” you chuckle, heat rising to your cheeks—God, how old are you?—at the realization that answering his question would take a bit more effort considering you’re shoulder-deep in the ocean, “I’ll have to show you when we get out.”

“Sure,” he hums with a pretty smile, looking around quietly as you drop beneath the surface to once again cool the heat scorching your body. Then, when you come up, he says, “Do you want to get out now?”

“Yeah. We should tell Jackson we smacked each other or something,” you grin, beginning to head back to shore with him trailing a few steps behind. Once you get to the point where the waves start to break, you cross your arms over your chest to keep the girls in place, angling your body to avoid being knocked to the ground for an inevitably sandy, humiliating death.

“Oh, yeah, we’ll think of something,” says Yugyeom.

The sarcasm lacing his tone has not even registered in your brain when his hands are on your waist, shoving you forward until you helplessly trip over the force of the current, flailing ungracefully into the sand with a cry that only gets smothered with the wave passing over your head. That son of a bitch.

When you surface and rub the stinging water from your eyes, you watch unamused as he reels back in laughter, louder than any of the children around you, and with him not paying attention you grab at his ankles, tripping him into his own sandy misery and ignoring all the judgmental stares from bothered teenagers sent your way. Although, you realize much too late that you should have taken him falling on you into consideration. This still does not prepare you for an elbow in the gut and his unfairly giant build squashing you further into the sand. To make it worse, as a wave recedes and another surges forward, all you can focus on is the gritty sand smearing your skin as you tussle in battle with Yugyeom.

“You are,” you spit, finally shoving him off once you’ve gained some safety from the waves, “a royal pain in the ass.”

Unable to contain his laughter, Yugyeom stays on the ground. You wrinkle your nose grossly at the sand not only coating your hair but also his lightened locks. At his lack of a reply, you scoop up a handful of wet sand and slap it onto his stomach. “Hey! That wasn’t cool,” he whines, reclining up on his elbows and glaring at the glop of sand spreading over his abdomen, torso heaving with laughter, “c’mon, that was pretty funny.”

Your irritated façade finally breaks once he flashes an unfairly adorable, boyish grin, and you finally join in with his laughing, scooping up more soppy sand and dribbling it on his toned arm. It does not hit you until he only frowns playfully instead of stopping you how unexpectantly intimate yet natural it is for someone you just met. “I like the tattoo,” Yugyeom suddenly states, poking at the lavender and coral shaded scallop shell right above the waist of your bottoms. You jolt in surprise, cheeks burning at his friendly gesture that only further supports your earlier thoughts.

“Thanks,” you smile. With the last bit of sand glopping onto his stomach, you cringe at your own state of filthiness. “c’mon, we should wash this off. And no more tackling.”

With another quiet laugh, Yugyeom stands to his feet, watching sickeningly as wet sand slides off his body and back into the shallow water with an unpleasant plop! Then, much to your surprise, he reaches his arm down to help you up. “I think your knee went up my ass,” he giggles once you’re up, walking ahead and using the waves to wash off. you grimace at the thought while walking out further to rinse out your hair. “Yeah, and you nearly pulled my top off,” you scoff, cupping water into your hands and scrubbing the sand off your skin. “You’re like a little kid.”

“And you complain too much,” he fires back once you start heading back. This time you keep a watchful eye on him in case he tries to pull another stunt. You gasp playfully, slapping a hand over your heart. “Ouch.”

“Don’t worry,” Yugyeom says. You look over to catch his playful expression. His lips are curled up into a sly smile and his dark eyes twinkle mischievously. “it’s hot.”

You blink, suddenly overwhelmed. Walking alongside the unfairly tall boy you look back to your feet, wary of holes dug and left exposed as a tripping hazard by reckless children. You scoff. “Since when is being a bitch hot?”

“Technically I paused in between those phrases, so I could’ve been talking about the temperature,” Yugyeom says, smirking like the little jerk he is as you lean down to pick up your towel. “What are the first three letters of assuming?”

Scowling, you contemplate kicking up a shower of dry sand if Jackson was not snoozing peacefully next to your own layout. Instead, you punch his arm and watch in satisfaction as he grimaces. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Please leave me alone now.”

“I need help putting on suntan lotion, though,” he pouts just as you plop down onto your blanket, towel wrapped snugly around your shoulders.

“Jesus Christ, how old are you?” You groan, falling back and glaring upside down at him, biting back your laughter when he lets out a loud sigh. “Please? Just my back.”

“Oh my God. Fine, you big baby. I’m not moving, though, so pop a squat.” Finally giving in, you lean up with a defeated sigh, scooting over to leave enough room for his tall ass. You watch disgruntledly as he drops beside you, crossing his legs with his back faced to you. Once he passes back the bottle, you give it a good shake before twisting the cap off. Spraying routinely over is skin, you mutter an apology when he breaks out in goosebumps. “Here,” you mumble, tossing the bottle into his lap before rubbing the greasy spray further over his back and shoulders. You cringe for a millisecond before quickly swiping over the lowest area at the waistband of his bottoms and slapping his shoulder. “Begone, thot.”

When he spirals to face you, you are momentarily whiplashed, and you almost—almost—tell him that he’s so pretty with the mole under his eye and indisputably gorgeous face. However, you quickly remind yourself, oh yeah, you have only known him for a few hours. Fortunately, he replies to your banter, concluding your drool-worthy trance.

“I’m not moving. Just because you called me that.”

You watch, dumbfounded, as he casually flops over and onto his stomach, burying his face between crossed arms without another word. “You—You’re despicable. You have a whole towel to yourself. Leave me be,” you protest, poking his ribs with your foot, still wrapped cozily in your towel.

At your insistent jabbing, he finally pulls an arm away and seizes your ankle, holding it still with an amused smile while he stares up at you. He looks way too hot for someone so incredibly, undeniably annoying. “Yugyeom,” you whine defeatedly, poking his thigh with your other foot. You watch the confidence only grow over his features. You say, “Stop being an ass.”

“Jesus Christ, I thought we were here to set up Mark and Jinae, not you two children,” BamBam suddenly grumbles from beside Jackson, leaning up on his elbows and scowling in your direction. “We’re the same age as you,” Yugyeom retorts, looking to him with a glare. You wait for him to deny BamBam’s accusation, heart thumping loudly in your chest, and yet he doesn’t. “Shut up or I’ll kill you,” BamBam grumbles, realizing it’s not worth the fight. He returns to his interrupted napping.

Laughing, you accept defeat as well and remove yourself from your towel’s shielding concealment, crumpling it into a ball as a pillow and placing it down a few inches from Yugyeom’s head. You lay on your stomach beside him. “Your friends threaten to kill you a lot.”

“It’s because I’m the baby,” he grumbles, resting his head on his wrists to look at you. You do the same.

He continues. “It’s whatever, though. They’re just jealous I’m taller than them.”

“No, you’re just annoying,” faintly, you hear BamBam mumble. Laughing, you cover your mouth with your hand. “I agree with him,” you whisper, the smirk growing harder to hide when Yugyeom frowns in playful hurt. “Shut up,” he grumbles, kicking your ankle with his own. “Don’t you need sun lotion?”

“I put some on before work.”

“But you went in the water,” he pouts, “and that was hours ago.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, heart warm at his concern. “It’s almost four, anyway. The sun isn’t as strong.”

“Oh,” Yugyeom seems to accept this, eyes traveling to your shoulder and lingering there long enough until you feel the heat spread from your head to your toes. Then he looks back to your face, expression soft. “You don’t actually mind if I nap here, right?”

Smiling against the dampness of your crumpled towel, you quietly say, “I don’t mind. As long as you don’t kick me, or something.”

“I can’t make that promise,” he smiles once more before finally resting his forehead on his forearms. You study what you can see of his relaxed silhouette for a moment before messily tying up your damp hair and comfortably burying your face into the towel with a peaceful sigh. What an odd individual.

What an odd joy.

Two hours and a series of blurred insignificant events later, you find yourself lying on your back. A hand jerks your shoulder and brings you back to blurred consciousness. “What?” You grumble, your mind hazy as a result of a long, hot nap that has your brain momentarily reeling at where you are. “It’s a little after six. I’m leaving. Are you good?”

Squeezing your eyes as a sort of fine tuning to get your mind back into business, you finally blink up to Jinae. Holding beach items in her arms, she tells you she's heading back up to your apartment. “Um,” you pause, straining to sit up and scan to see if the others are up. “I’m good. I’ll see you tonight.”

Once she’s off, a tired sigh escapes from your lips as you flip back onto your stomach. You easily drift off for another fifteen minutes or so before waking once more, this time to a screaming baby. Rubbing sandy knuckles over your eyes, you look to your side. Yugyeom, still fast asleep, remains spread out across your blanket, right hand positioned into a small hole in the sand an arm’s length away. You wonder if he dug it in his sleep.

“He sleeps like a dead man. Once we left without him and he came to me and Mark’s apartment at, like, two in the morning ready to kill us,” a voice grumbles ahead of you. Jackson is lying just as you are with a messy case of beachhead, strands dried and awkwardly sticking up in all directions. You laugh, momentarily looking away from the brunette to the dimming sun, which is much lower in the sky at this point. You finally respond, “I can tell. Every time I woke up, he was still knocked. Also, I didn’t know you were Mark’s roommate.”

Wrinkling his nose, Jackson glances over his shoulder to the other three boys still passed out on the sand. “Is that good or bad?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just hear a lot about you. And now I have a face to match all the stories with.”

“Gosh, what does he say?”

You contemplate it for a moment. It's not like Mark has ever really talked shit. You decide on messing with him. “He says when you sleep, you talk about feet.”

Mouth hanging open, Jackson absorbs your bullshit before his face drains of color, spewing nonsense like a child caught in a lie. “What? Oh my God, you’re joking. You’re joking! Shit, you probably think I have a thing for feet or something. I swear I don’t, oh my—oh my God, bro. I definitely don’t talk about feet.” In an attempt to hold back your laughter resulting from his panic, you force your gaze elsewhere. You focus on Youngjae’s hair billowing from the light breeze until Jackson has exhausted himself breathless.

“I was joking,” you finally cave, but only when you glimpse the deep puppy frown he holds. “All he’s ever said it that you’re too loud in the morning.”

It takes Jackson a few seconds to process your trickery. He blinks. “Wow,” he heaves, sitting up onto his haunches. “I see how it is. You have betrayed me. I guess we’re enemies now.”

“Ha!” BamBam roars somewhere behind. “You really had him!”

“That was pretty good,” pipes Youngjae, sitting up and lifting his sunglasses to push back his hair. He pokes Mark beside him. “Yo, your side girl just flamed Jackson.”

“Side girl?” You snort just as Jackson flails to stand up, kicking sand in the process.

“No, she didn’t!” Jackson shouts defiantly, hands on his hips.

“What’d she say?” Mark grumbles tiredly, blinking to keep his eyes open. He reclines on his elbows.

While Youngjae fills him in, you look to Jackson, who shoots daggers your way but fails to hide his own humored grin. You stifle a laugh as Yugyeom stirs beside you. He mumbles, “What’s all the commotion for?”

“She,” Jackson says, looking at Yugyeom and pointing a finger at you, “is a bitch.” He smirks, flicking your forehead on his way back to his towel. You stick out your tongue. In response he adds, “But a smart bitch.”

“I thought we already established that.” Yugyeom sighs. You shoot him a glare, and he returns the gesture with a sleepy smile that extinguishes your urge to smack him.

“Hey,” you wrinkle your nose. “Since when is it ‘national attack ___ day?’ For a group of guys, you sure are babies.”

Jackson gasps. “Shit, she’s Jinyoung in female form.” He shakes BamBam by the shoulders. “We can’t let them meet. They’ll be too powerful.”

“You’re so whiny,” Yugyeom says sharply. All eyes fly to him. He shrugs. “They’ll be too powerful.”

“Oh shit,” BamBam snorts, moments before Jackson shoots up and charges for the younger boy. Yugyeom flounders away in time to run away. You dodge the sheet of sand sent your way with a prepared duck and watch the two sprint up the beach. “Tragic,” Mark comments as Yugyeom stumbles face-first into the sand and Jackson hops on top of him to choke him in a headlock.

“Well, that’s my queue to go,” you quip, patting around for your crumpled tee shirt, finding it, and pulling it over your head. “This was fun. We should do it again sometime.” Shaking the sand out from your blanket, you become startlingly aware of the sudden silence hanging over the four like fog. You realize before Mark even speaks up that, chances are, this will be a regular thing.

He hesitantly says, “Well, I was thinking… maybe we could—”

“Yes. I know what you’re gonna say. I don’t think Jinae would mind hanging out, either. Anyway, I feel like I’ve known everyone for years, and the teasing is kind of fun,” you say, cutting him off. You return the smile he tries to hide before swinging your bag over your shoulder and waving to the others. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Wait!” Youngjae yelps. You watch with wide eyes as he jumps up and gives you a warm hug, encasing his arms around you only for a moment but still long enough for your heart to warm. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smile, patting his cheek and waving once more to BamBam and Mark. You start up looser sands when Jackson finally separates from Yugyeom after shoving him once more into the sand for good measure. “Careful you don’t kill him!” You shout over, watching with a laugh as the older boy whips his head up like a dog summoned by the shaking of the treat bag.

“Are you leaving?” He shouts, bouncing away from Yugyeom and jogging to you. Abs. “Yeah,” you say once he has reached you. “A shower is calling my name.”

“Are we hanging tomorrow?”

Looking to the three still lying out a few yards away, you shrug. “I’ll be here. Who knows with Jinae, though. Sometimes she gets bored of beachin’ every day.”

“Oh, well, whatever you guys decide to do, we’ll be here,” Jackson grins sinfully, slapping your arm before walking away. Of course you couldn’t have gotten a hug from him. “Keep your eyes out for the baby!” He suddenly calls, and you twist around to dumbly watch the tanned boy return to his friends. Your heart is suddenly beating loudly in your ears, and your internal fire only intensifies when said baby whines, pulling you into his chest, “Why are you leaving?”

Sucking in a necessary breath, you practically fall limp against Yugyeom’s hold, pressing your cheek against his chest but turning away from his friends in fear that they’re looking. “I want to shower. And eat. Plus, I have some dramas to catch up on.” At this he leans back, gazing down at you peculiarly. You’re painfully aware that his arms are still looped around your waist. He’s just a touchy guy, you tell yourself as he continues to groan like a child denied what he wants. “We could get food together.”

“Don't fret; I'll be back tomorrow,” you offer, satisfied when his lips quirk up and the corners of his eyes crinkle. “And probably all the days after that. Also, when school starts, I bet we’ll all be hanging together. We have plenty of days to get food.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He smiles, his expression soft. Then he pulls you in for another hug. “Text me when you get home.”

Flustered, heart beating frantically, you choke out, “I don’t have your number?” Grunting in realization, Yugyeom reaches for your phone in your hand. You watch with a held breath as he tries each of your fingers for the correct fingerprint scan until it unlocks. He goes into the Messages app and puts in a new number. “You do now,” he smiles, irises reflecting gold specks. He hands your phone back, and it’s not until you cross both arms over your chest that you notice the goosebumps painting your skin. “Thanks,” you force, spinning on your heels and making way for the sandy walkway up the dunes.

“Come back to the grill tomorrow with Mark and Jinae!”

“I will!” You shout back, not daring to look back for fear that the tall boy will make your heart hurt more, in a way that it most certainly should not. You sigh and concentrate on the sand dried on your feet rather than how you hope he will decide to crash on your beach blanket again tomorrow.

“Pussy,” Jinae taunts as you crash onto her mattress. You struggle to stretch your leg out far enough to give her bare ass a feeble kick as she changes out of her uniform. Scoffing, you tumble to lie on your stomach, twirling a strand of recently washed hair in between your fingers. “Like you’re any better. I just met him today while you and Mark have been galloping around each other like eighth graders since summer started.”

“Touché,” Jinae says, accepting defeat. She tightens the strings of her sweatpants before thumping down on the bed to be beside you. The bed dips as she rolls to curl her form around your own. “I bet you’ll both be in love with one another by Saturday.”

You laugh and wrap your arm around her shoulders, running your fingers through her dark corkscrew curls, the only thing she fully acquired from her mother’s genes. “You and Mark already are in love. You just refuse to act on it.”

“Yeah, whatever, I don’t wanna talk about him.”

Sighing, you tug harshly on a curl. “It’s gonna happen this week. You and Mark will be official.”

“Mhm,” she hums, smirking. “And so will you and Yugyeom, Miss We-Practically-Fucked-In-The-Ocean.”

“Stop,” you whine. You retract your arm and drape it over your face, shielding the burn that is creeping its way up. “Seriously, though,” Jinae giggles, tugging at your elbow. “I can’t believe you met each other today. The attraction was unbelievable. Chemistry classes across the world are quaking.”

“Shut up.” Groaning, you roll away from her relentless probing. “Listen, he’s cute. Really cute and yeah, sure, we got along great. But who said that I’m ready to date again? And you don’t even know if he would be interested.”

“You could always ask Mark,” Jinae says as you struggle off her bed, leaving her sprawled out alone. “Double dates!”

“Yeah, sure, Jinae. Keep dreaming.”

She pouts. “You’re no fun,” she huffs, reaching for her phone. “Get out, it’s almost two-thirty, and we have to get up soon.”

“Can’t we skip the jogging for one day? Sleep in? No one wants to see the literal ass crack of dawn,” you yawn. Folding your hands in prayer, you beg her to give you a break for one day. Jinae ponders it for a moment, rubbing her bottom lip with her index finger, before an open-mouthed grin evilly lights up her features. “Sure.”

Squinting, you waggle an accusing finger at her while slowly backing out of her room. “I don’t trust you. Try anything, Kim Jinae, and your ass is out on the street!”

“You can’t kick me out!”

“Yes, I can!” You shout, finally allowing your grin to show once you have closed her door.

Maybe some days are just a tad more joyous than others.

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